[Training] shades of blue

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Skyport trips were inevitable, given how inaccessible Stormbreak was to the rest of the world, save for those capable of flight and the trusted diligence of the pilots. So touching down upon Torchline’s port had come as some semblance of a comfort, given the familiarity of the docks, before embarking further down the inevitable coastline.

Notebook and basket in hand, the youth made her way along the shore, hoping to catch sight of newfound fauna – especially before they made their way into the Celestine. She had a few notes jumbled and pieced together by hearsay alone: large, turquoise birds, down in the midst of kelp forests or coral beds, scales instead of feathers. There was also the potential of mudtigers, and some other kind of reef creature, but she figured a sighting of one would probably be enough for the day.

If she was fortunate.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

Torchline had been peaceful in the aftermath of War; rebuilding after the rise of the islands had knocked the city askew had taken up a great deal of energy, leaving little for mischief of a more violent sort. The fauna - and, if reports were to be believed, the flora of at least one island - were less... respectful, however. Though he hadn't seen another Sea Panther since that tragic day, there had been other encroachments.

There were guards for such things. Men and women trained to handle weapons and magic and use them against those threats to merfolk and humans alike who ventured into the water and the intertidal zone, but his strength was occasionally needed.

And his weaponry. Safrin's gift was a potent deterrent to the local carnivores, though he wished it had a bit more... distance to it. He was currently coiled in a tidepool and considering a piece of driftwood just out of reach of the starlit water's range when movement nearby caught his attention and he raised his head.

"Lena," he called in greeting, raising his deep voice to be heard above the surf. "It is good to see you. Are you well?"

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

With her attention snagged in a variety of directions, the Caretaker might’ve anticipated something rising from the swells of the surf – but she hadn’t presumed it’d be Hadama. With a slight laugh at the deep voice rolling along the waves, she offered a friendly nod of her head, tucking her notebook back into her basket to ensure a more formal and polite greeting. “Hadama – I’m well. There’s been quite a bit of change along the lands. Thought I’d try to catch any of the new creatures about.”

Pausing, for she thought she’d heard rumors about him taking up the mantle of Merfolk some time before war resounded in their ears, she placed her hands behind her back, resting them against her spine. “What about yourself? How are things going?”

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

It was no surprise that the Caretaker was looking for new fauna to study, and Hadama tucked the thought away, giving himself time to consider an offer before he made it. But in the meantime she had questions of her own and he tilted his head at her, eyes sparkling with wry humor.

"It is easier to herd catfish than to lead the mer," he admitted, a rumble of humor in his voice though his expression remained serene. "We are an independent people. But I have found a balance, and it goes well."

He nodded towards the driftwood his shots of starlit-infused seawater had been falling short of. "Today I am training. If you would like to join me?" he offered courteously.

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Considering Stormbreak’s current predicaments with titles and leadership, the Caretaker could only offer a small smile in accord. “That is good to hear.” And if the mer could be maintained in their ilk, perhaps the same could be said for those now living amidst the clouds.

Contemplating the skies for a moment, she hadn’t expected his inquiry – especially given that Lena was not one of weaponry and armaments. Her skills revolved around kindness, benevolence, mending, and assuaging, and the slight hesitation was apparent on her features. “That depends on how you’re training. I can only admit inexperience.” At mostly everything – even with Helen or Anju’s best efforts.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

Lena's calm courtesy was always a welcome match to his own, and Hadama tilted his head in contented acknowledgement of her kind words. She was always a welcome visitor and he looked forward to showing her at least one of the new fauna that had begun to appear in the reef, but first...

He nodded gravely in understanding of her hesitance and gestured towards the driftwood log. "I was trying to increase the range of my trident," he explained. "But without success. I could practice my accuracy with my water magic," he offered instead, the implication that Lena would be dodging and improving her own dexterity. "Or I could attempt to dodge your own attacks?"

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Even in the herald and incomings of war, Lena hadn’t taken to carrying any armaments, much less practicing with them. Much more focused on healing, on ensuring some angles of Stormbreak were safe. Swallowing down the traces of bile suddenly bounding down her throat, her eyes roamed over at the log, and any other driftwood nearby. “Um, I could…throw things at you?” She winced and grimaced, but it was better than nothing – pelting rocks, sticks, shells, and the like probably wasn’t an ideal situation, yet, it could benefit the mer’s needs for training. Maybe she could configure some amount of accuracy through it all.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

There were plenty of mer who preferred a quiet, peaceful life and never desired to pick up a weapon. Hadama, though not necessarily pacifistic by nature, had once counted himself among their number until the need to defend his loved ones and by extension his people became too important to continue a weaponless path.

Events during the War had only cemented that decision, and the recent Sea Panther sighting reinforced it.

He considered Lena thoughtfully for a long moment, including her grimace and discomfort before he nodded deeply in acknowledgment of the cost to the gentle woman. "Thank you," he agreed gravely, seemingly oblivious to the incongruity of thanking someone for throwing things at him. "I will try to block them with the trident."

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Lena might have been inclined to agree, with the nature of meeting Trinket recently, and her abrupt threats of potentially hurting the animals of the Celestine. But kind and gentle, the Caretaker could find other means to ensure the youth never touched them, or faced consequences for doing so, so the notions of wielding a weapon still didn’t mark or measure the depths of her mind.

Rocks and shells though, in a training manner, could do something.

With the agreement at hand, she placed her basket down upon a nearby boulder, and searched the sand by her feet. She snagged a few stones, pebbles, a long, archaic looking piece of driftwood, and a random assortment of shells. Taking a solid breath, she grabbed hold of the first rock. “Here it comes!” by way of announcing her motives and movements, before she threw it, definitely not as hard as she could, towards the mer and his trident.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

As shallow as the water was, he had little choice but to block with either weapon or water magic; his normal swift grace within the waves was significantly hampered by how he had to coil his tailed bottom half beneath him on the sand to hold his torso upright above the surface so that he made a fair target.

He made for a good target, at least, for someone unused to throwing projectiles at a living target with intent to - not harm; that was not the Caretaker's way, but at least... to impact.

Lena's call of forewarning was met with a short nod and nothing more as Hadama focused on the rock in her hand. He'd practiced this game with his water magic before, of course, when Melita had done the tossing, but it was a different set of muscles - literal ones - to train now as he swept the trident with its starlit tines through the air where he expected the stone to be...

And missed.

The rock bounced off his muscled chest and he glanced down at the spot with a slight furrowing of his brow. "Hmm." His opinion of Lena's aim went up a notch and he considered how he had swung too early. After a long, thoughtful pause and a slight shifting of his grip he nodded to Lena again, a pulse of encouragement nudging through the Attuned bond to let her know he was ready for round two.

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

The Caretaker fully presumed the merman would be able to counter a small rock – especially one she’d lobbed. When the direct opposite happened, she grimaced, wincing slightly for the effort. “I’m so sorry!” Though it didn’t seem to affect him much, given the notions of readiness and reassurance through the Attuned measures, but Lena’s face still held a noticeable hesitation throughout the whole set of motions.

Snagging at a shell this time, pretty, dainty, and blue, from her pile, she nodded her head. Maybe that would be enough of a signal? A warning? Rolling her shoulders, she wound up again, and then threw the little husk towards Hadama, expecting entirely different results from the first round.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

If anything, Hadama felt bad that Lena felt bad, and he gave a small shake of his head. "I am not hurt," he assured her. "This is why I am practicing." Because these things took both time and repetition to learn and get right, and while he had a lifetime of learning to dodge and strike underwater, he'd only begun his education in the physics of relative motion through air within the last two years. A long time, to be sure, but most of that time had been spent honing magic or learning to dodge, not necessarily to strike back.

He and Melita had played such a game once, it was true... but that seemed like a very long time ago.

He prepared himself again, and this time when the projectile came he managed a glancing impact. The shell wasn't entirely deflected; it still continued on a trajectory that skimmed over his shoulder, but this time he'd at least made contact, however slight.

His satisfaction with the slow but perceptible progress could be felt through the bond as he nodded for Lena to go again.

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

She half-wondered if Hadama was reassuring her just so she wouldn’t feel bad. She certainly would have feelings about being hit by a rock – but maybe the mer were made of sterner, stoic stuff. “Okay,” she muffled into a vague whisper, still not wholly convinced. He’d managed to glean off the portions of the shell anyway, so there wasn’t a harsh impact, and less of a wince on Lena’s part.

As he nodded for her to persist and continue, the youth snagged at a different object from her pile. This time it was a portion of driftwood, clearly aged and shriveled from its time amongst the waves, and then finally the sand. Gripping the twig, she gave a solid bob of her head to indicate she was throwing again, before winging it towards Hadama.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

Not all Mer were so stoic; Andromeda would likely take such a bruise with far more commentary, and Kaiden was... volatile, even at the best of times. But Hadama had practiced against Melita's throwing arm and compared to her fastballs Lena's tentative tosses were downright gentle.

Both had their place, and if he could help Lena become more comfortable with her aim then he hoped it would be time well-spent for both of them.

It was certainly proving to be beneficial for the King. This time he was able to judge the speed and distance through the air accordingly and the starlit tines of his trident struck true. With a neat twist and flick of his wrists he brought the broad side of the tines around and hit the deadwood squarely so that it spun off to the side and well away from his body. He almost smiled as he resettled himself and nodded in appreciation of Lena's aim. "One more," he requested, "to make certain that was not a fluke." Then it would be up to Lena how much more practice she wanted with her aim; something he was happy to help with since she had been willing to help him with his own training.