CLOSED ▼ AMAZING

[metagame]

Who: Wash, Morrigan, eventual OTA
Where: Fighting Ring, the Temple of Beginnings
When: Before Akvos
Rating PG-13; minor violence and language
What: I don't even know.

I. ▼ there's frustration in this one - closed to Wash
[Foreign - European swords are heavy. He's not used to the extra weight in the blade. It makes for somewhat clumsy footwork and overcompensation on the swing-pivot. Khopesh are much better suited for his style.

Unfortunately, Astoria's lacking a dedicated blacksmith among the Circle and her servants. Not that he knows ideal measurements for a sturdy khopesh outside of its shape and feel. Feelings alone can't make a good sword. He works at his shoulder, adjusts his grip, and takes another swing with a forward slashing motion. Muscle memory carries him for a quarter step turn where he abruptly stops short due to the sword's lack of hook. He catches himself before any accident could occur. (Horus' Eye, he's thankful he wore his sandals opposed to Yugi's boots this morning.)

First archery, now this... Ugh. Must he swallow his pride?]

II. ▼ cats to that - closed to Morrigan with eventual OTA
[Osiris scuttles through dried leaves, their small talons crunching them for the novelty of the sound. Every so often they tilt their head up to sniff the air with both tongues; eventually they catch a particular scent that drives them from their leafy-amusement, enough to even pick-up speed necessary for flight. Atem figures it's a rodent (they're almost always hungry), and with a heavy sigh lifts from his resting spot to follow the tiny beast back to the temple. Can't let them bite more than their mouths can chew... wait, can they even chew? He swears they swallow their food whole like a snake.

... It's a cat napping in a stray sunbeam. A cat. Osiris caught scent of a cat, and not one he recognizes from the temple either. Osiris' loud, hawk-like screech is the only warning for an impeding dive.

Oh no.]

III. ▼ wild card
[Have an idea? Feel free to private message this journal or moezilla.]

Comments

iii

[eyeofassault]

[G11's main goal for her stay with the Circle...is to find as many nice napping spots possible. Especially if it means sleeping through lunchtime since there isn't a free meal during that time slot.

So eventually she stumbles into whatever unlocked room that opens for her. The T-doll's presence is announced with a yawn, and while there's several pieces of furniture she can drape herself across (or even in front of the fireplace), her attention fixates on the stranger in the room. More specifically that hair. She thought IDW's hair was weird, but Atem's is mind-breaking by comparison.]

Hair gel from other worlds is craaaaazy. [G11 moves towards him with her hands partially raised, fingers wiggling as if she's barely holding back from touching his hair.]

[metagame]

Not hair gel. [He doesn't bother to glance up from his game. From the sound, though... it's some girl? And she's approaching him. Nosy people always asking about his hair. It's not even that unusual!] And don't touch, either. Do you have any manners?

[If she tries anyway, she'd find his hair is coarse, rather dense, and almost spongy to the touch. Surprising, right?]

[eyeofassault]

[If Atem was a Tdoll she would totally be messing with his hair. Though is he really human if that glorious starfish hair isn't gelled? She'll assume he's human for now (or at least her programming tells her to listen).]

Who needs manners in a place like this? I don't think that's part of the criteria for being dragged in. [But G11 relents and puts down her hands...only to take a seat at the table with her gun slung over the back of the chair. She hunches over immediately, her arms laying limply along the edges and her cheek smooshed against the surface while she turns her head in his direction. There's a brief internal debate on whether she should go into sleep mode, but the weird objects he's playing with are interesting. Plus she's been bored.]

Whatcha doing?

[metagame]

[So the girl doesn't care about etiquette..? Despite his clear annoyance, he finds himself liking that a tiny bit. So long as she doesn't bother to touch him anyway! The thought of someone treating him exactly the same as everyone else regardless of status though. Hah, not like she'd ever know.]

Ever hear of the game Jacks before? [The bone dice roll clatter on the table surface. Sure, he's lacking a ball, but the concept is pretty close thanks to his modified rules.]

[eyeofassault]

[Oh boy, if he really wants to be treated like the average Joe, G11 is the perfect and worst person for that. There's a lot more than just etiquette that she cares very little about. Like emulating normal human social skills, hence the intense slouch she's got going on.]

Nope. Don't normally have this much downtime, and I usually spend it sleeping. Unless you mean jumping jacks-- that'd be a weird choice for games. [She pokes at the nearest bone that rolls by her face.] Are these teeth?

ii obviously

[nogoldenmirror]

[Simply asking the "witch" was out of the question. A part of her internally screamed at the idea still. It would take time before she even remotely trusted her to do so. Thus she'd started going through the list of creatures she could transform back home in the vain hope that she still had some semblance of familiarity. Bear was a solid "no," as was a spider or swarm of insects. Finally, she reached for the magic and focused on the familiar feline shape and mass compacted before shrinking down to what appears, in all senses, a small black house cat.

The transition exhausted her. Like it had when she first mastered the form of another creature when she was a little girl. So, she lay in the sunlight and waited for it to wear off.

Then there's the sudden screech. Her ears pick it up and flatten against her head as she jolts to the side. She tenses as her tail lowers, hissing.]

Well well, what have we here? A serpent wanting to play~?

[Try her, snake. She's already in a foul mood. Give her an excuse to test out tiny fang and claw.]

[metagame]

[When she jolts away, Osiris hits the ground on all fours with enough force to cause Atem to wince. This is... Not good. Crap.

Whether Osiris understands is of little importance, they're angry and quite keen to fight with the cat (really, any cat after Arashi's cat tried to eat it not long ago-- this cat just so happened to be in their range). They dig their talons deeper, clawing at dirt and stone to brace themselves for the ball of sparks forming in their now unhinged lower jaw.

How fast can Atem move to pull both of them apart? (Not fast enough.)]

[nogoldenmirror]

[A reptile that can use magic. Why is she not surprised? But then, it had the look of a miniaturized dragonling. She can't say it shocked her so. However, it only serves to increase her irritation. Certainly, bring in a witch who could cast lightning and transform into terrible beasts or toy with other's nightmares. Let her maintain some more mundane forms, but block access to her magic. That certainly won't become a problem in the long run.

She puts a tree between her and the blast, already climbing up the trunk with claws extracted. She waits atop a low-lying branch, poised to leap at the tiny beast.]

[metagame]

[The ball of lightning explodes from Osiris' mouth and misses its target. Morrigan is too fast for Osiris, who must charge their magic before unleashing it and cannot aim while doing so. A severe disadvantage as now they're left unguarded on the ground below. The forest terrain make it difficult for Osiris to gain enough speed for flight again.

That doesn't seem to bother them, though. They emit yet another hawk-like screech to challenge Morrigan. Are they upset she's up the tree?

Atem manages to pick Osiris up to intervene this strange spat, but Osiris claws and bites their way out of his grasp. Quite a nasty scratch, too. Ouch. Once free, Osiris scuttles to the tree's trunk for pursuit.

Why is this even happening...]

[nogoldenmirror]

[Don't look at her. She climbed the tree to escape the tiny dragon-lizard. And yet, here it is. Trying to follow her up. She hisses a warning, already bored with this and exhausted from the change, yet she was not going to let herself be hurt, thank you very much.

...

It's still trying to climb up after her. Seriously? Ugh.] Leave me be, you daft creature.

[...If the creature is successful however, she will hop down and hide behind the very person it sunk claw and teeth into. Potentially big mistake? Yep.]

i, because why not do prompts in complete reverse order

[unrecovered]

[There's no pressing matters or dire threats at hand, which means Wash has made his way to the sparring ring. The dummies aren't the most exciting sparring partners, sure, but there's this thing about beggars and choosers and he's pretty sure he knows which one he counts as right now. Plus, it gives him something to do.]

[This time around is a little different, namely in that someone's beaten him there. It's Atem, doing sword work, and Wash settles in to watch for a few minutes; it's partially out of interest and partially the cynical side of his brain insisting someone should be here just in case Atem can't handle that sword.]

[That doesn't turn out to be the case exactly. It's clear that Atem has some combat training - Wash doesn't recognize the form, but Atem seems to have some idea what he's doing. Weapons familiarity is a whole other ball game, and that's where Atem looks like he's striking out. Time to step in before the cynical side of his brain gets vindicated.]

Have you worked with one of those before?

[metagame]

A sword? Yes. [This kind of sword? No. ... So apparently he isn't swallowing his pride.] I'm out of practice.

[unrecovered]

[Wash isn't entirely sure he believes that, but okay - he'll roll with it as long as it doesn't result in injury. In the meantime...well, he's here for a reason. He shrugs.]

In that case, how about a sparring partner?

[metagame]

That's fine with me... [He adjusts his grip for what feels like the third, fourth, perhaps even the fifth time? Whatever, it doesn't matter anymore.] I appreciate the practice. [Working with a live person and not the weird multiplying dummies can allow him a more natural progression.]

[unrecovered]

No problem - it's better than the dummies.

[He heads into the ring and settles into a ready stance, drawing his knife from its sheath and easily flipping it to a reverse grip. He's very obviously at home with his weapon of choice; time to see if Atem can match that.]

Your move.

[metagame]

[Ah... A knife. Seems oddly fitting for a soldier and crazy tree talking man. Right, so he needs steady foot work, and use the sword's reach to his advantage. Defense and distance as in this instance Wash should be offensive.

Atem slides into a more comfortable position with the sword, keeping its weight and balance in check. Two steps forward and he goes for a rush.]

[unrecovered]

[Atem should be handling that sword like it's an extension of himself, but he moves it like he as to think about it - either he really is out of practice or he's not familiar with that sword. Either way, if Wash can get a good position, it shouldn't be too hard to take that sword from him.]

[He sidesteps the rush, sweeping his knife upwards to redirect the blow and hopefully get Atem off his balance.]