pawnstorm | Training at Sunrise

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Training at Sunrise

Who: Tieria and YOU
When: May 9th, a day AFTER Intro Log
Where: Caissa, Coastal District
What: Tieria organized a mass training session, hideous ensues?
Rating: Violence, language, more violence

If you made your way to the location, you're already one step closer upon completing your training because this part of the beach is the furthest away from any settlement or port and also the hardest to find. You probably found it by following other heroes' trail, or you're those who stumbles around until you found it or you're actually one of those who went scouting before the actual day.

Either way, congratulation for making it this far ( puns completely intended ). Surrounding the rocky beach is an even rockier cliff. Be careful not to stumble or you will find yourself in need of healing. Thankfully, there are Kings ready to make a guinea pig out of your healing needs around. Your training will be held on the round rock-carved deck overlooking the beautiful sea or on the less rocky stretch of the beach, depending on your Trainer's choice. If you're lucky, your Trainer might even have you hike up that rocky cliff. You may even treat yourself to Caissa's fantastic sunset if you made it up there in time!

In any case, once you've arrived at sunrise ( or rather when the sun has risen sufficiently over the horizon because you're that bad with direction or has no sense of time ) and is done catching your breath, you will come to a notice pinned on the tall fences that tells you to tie a ribbon ( in the buckets, also tied to the fence ) corresponding to the training you wish to partake in on your arm.

Stamina ( GREEN ) ✽ Endurance ( ORANGE ) ✽ Weapons ( BLUE ) ✽ Magic ( PURPLE )

The notice will also instructs those who volunteers to be Trainers to tie a different set of ribbons, with black stripe over the four corresponding colors, on their arm to help differentiate them and the course(s) they're instructing. Of course, if you turn out to be a terrible Trainer, Tieria will rip that ribbon off you and very possibly shoves you into the sea.

There are no training weapon available because you're supposed to bring your own magic weapon.
If you forgot, you can either run back for it or pick a different course.

There's also a clause in very bold red letters that forbid killing. Break it and you will be broken in return.

Are you done tying those ribbons? Then what are you waiting? Get moving!

(( OOC: Please indicate in your top level if your character is a Trainer (which course are they instructing?) or Trainee.
eg.: Harry Potter | TRAINER - MAGIC
eg.: Severus Potter | TRAINEE - EVERYTHING PLEASE

Feel free to mingle around! Make friends, frenemies and even better, rivals! ))

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[ He smiles gently.

Canting his head to the side slightly and shoulders back, The Fool still held in one hand to the side, its tip pointed downward and just a breath above the sand, but with a gentle sort of calm ease in his posture.

And something so inexplicably sad about it, too. ]

I'm sorry— [ That I don't remember you. ] ... that I went away.

[ And left a friend behind. ]

I didn't mean to make you worry.

[ No sooner than the words I'm Allen Walker reach his ears, Sion lowers his sword, sees the glittering blade returned to its place at his back without needing to hear more. No explanation need be given, not just yet (and it would not surprise the King if there were no exact answer, no rhyme or reason for Allen's disappearance, save for the fact that the nature of the Gods and the will of the world would always be a too fickle, too unpredictable a thing), because there is a poignant air of melancholy about the other man's smile, something which strikes a deep, resonant chord within Sion himself. How unsettling must it be, to happen upon a perfect stranger, one who professed to a bond beyond the reach of one's memory? To have forgotten, regardless of the reason why, is to be infringed upon in the very worst of ways, and having the recollection of loved ones and friends stripped clean from the mind is...

Something which shakes the King's foundations as well. Sion Astal is thousands of years old and twenty years young, comprised of dozens of lives and different verses of himself, all of them bound together by the entity which devoured him as surely as he devoured it in turn.

One day, there would be nothing left of him; he would be changed by way of merging with that thing, no longer so simply Sion, but more, and though he'd accustomed himself to loss (by the day, his emotions dwindle, and it becomes all the more difficult to distinguish between the pinpricks of feeling which denote happiness and sadness, delight and dismay), he knows without a doubt that he is glad to see Allen again.

Allen, who is whole and well. Allen, who...]

So you are. [ ...Sion vows never to forget, for Allen had been the very first person in Enprise to call him friend. ] But you must know that you've nothing at all to apologize for.

[ Seamlessly, he bridges the distance between them, reaching out with what at first is a hesitant, tentative touch (he does not wish to impose familiarity, but...), his hand resting gently atop the crown of Allen's snow-white hair, ruffling the strands as a burst of mana transfers between them. ]

I had hoped you would have been returned to your home, but to see your smile again is heartening.

[ So much so that he cannot help but smile himself, the touch of his hand drawing away. And when he speaks next, his voice carries with it a playful lilt, an airy, whimsical quality which would seek to dispel any unease which remains between them: ]

...there is only one thing for us to do now, you realize.

Edited (syyyyntax. ) 2016-05-15 18:37 (UTC)

[ Ah— that's... ]

... [ That's something that makes his throat tighten, but in a good way and Allen can only give a nod. Oh. A little surprised at the cool tickle of mana that goes along with it. And remembering his own sword he lets the activation drop, the blade fading away like an illusion until only the playing card in his hand remains.

He'd been doing fine. Really, he had. Leaving like he had. Being on his own like he had. So why does that...

... why does that familiarity and gesture of friendship—kinship—make him realize how crushingly lonely that's been. ]

[ And makes the Exorcist smile back at that and give a nod again, more certainly this time. Grateful. Heh.. ]

Mn. [ Thank you.

And he holds up The Fool in its dormant state then, just a gothic joker between gloved index and middle fingers. With a brighter, lighter look in his eye. Lively. Because it's contagious, Sion's smile as well, and what he presumes the other means. And it's been a long time since Allen actually felt excited.

And like he might belong somewhere again. ]

But if we're going to get reacquainted— [ He wags the card for a moment. Just maybe a little cheeky. ] —shouldn't I know your name first?

[ Allen's after his name, is it?

Sion gives pause, a hum of consideration playing upon his lips as his golden eyes fix first upon the playing card held lofty and high between Allen's fingertips, then upon Allen himself with a lofted brow which masks none of his amusement.

So they are to be reacquainted, then, and this Allen has decided for himself, leaving the King to only...

Bow his head, briefly, in gratitude. He is touched, perhaps, by Allen's faith; by the younger man's certainty that this is the right path, that what once had been could be renewed again, despite all odds and poor circumstance. ]

Would you like the long or the short of it? [ With or without his entitlements, his epithets? ] Or dare I ask that you wager a guess of your own, and so be dubbed something akin to 'Franklin' or 'Oswald'?

[ From King, to trainer, to welcomed companion, Sion finds himself transformed into something lighter and lighter still, someone who is far more of himself, and truth be told, he is at ease. Relived to see Allen find his footing, to be smiling brightly and without so very glum a look. ]

Perhaps, though, you may just call me 'Sion'. Nothing more is necessary.

[ Making himself be certain of his path when his world is its most confusing is the only way Allen knows how to live. And that means he has to rely on his gut and what it tells him. And this...

Someone with Sion's sort of smile and the sense of loss he has, that bearing—nothing in Allen feels that's a ploy. And he's not a shark at cards for nothing. ~~Beyond cheating ruthlessly.~~ He's a good read on character and when someone is being forthright and themselves or not.

And this person—this immediate and respectable, warm sort of person, because if there is any kind of person Allen recognizes it's one who cares for others—'Sion'...

I don't know you but I feel I can trust you. And Allen's not the kind of person to cast doubts on that. Because he has absolutely no choice in this kind of situation except to trust this person, because that's the only thing that makes sense. And right now, that's okay. Because right now...

... it's the only thing that feels okay. ]

And here I'd just gotten used to 'Oswald'. [ Said with a light smile though. Allen only ever teases very lightly and as an obvious tease. ]

Sion... [ Allen's eyes hood slightly, white lashes over grey, and the card between his fingers tics down for a moment. He doesn't want to be the one to bring down the mood. He doesn't. But he also needs to know— ] How long...

[ ah ] ...how long was I here? [ How long ago.

Before. ]

Did something happen?

Two months ago, I met you, nearly to the date.

[ He understands, really he does, Allen's need to ask and to know, and though he cannot wholly fathom what it must be like, to be so aware that one has lost something without ever truly knowing it, how could he not wish to aid the younger man? How could he not offer his compassion, his smile to a friend swiftly met and shortly departed? No, Allen could never spoil his mood—Sion is humbled and he is glad, as he once had been, to stand at the side of someone who, so very much like him, would do all that they could to save another—and so... his sigh is light, gently sloping his shoulders, his hands clasped behind his back as the coastal wind picks up the long, white locks of his hair. ]

We fought at one another's side, that day, and after... there was a lull, a peacetime which fell upon the Capital with the coming of spring as the snow melted. We were given summons, then, by the Commander and Secretary of State, and granted passage to the location of our duty upon an airship more magnificent than anything I've glimpsed before in my life.

[ Looking to the sky above, he pictures it there, uses the sense of wonder and awe the craft had instilled in him to further spin his tale, making the recounting seem more like the great adventure he'd once promised to speak of before. And he does seem to have a talent for this, speaking, his voice measured with practice and with grace, growing more pleasing to the ears as he continues on: ]

On board, there were spas boasting baths of milk, training facilities and those practiced in the art of fighting in three dimensions, and... [ Canting his head, he meets Allen's eyes with a side-long glance, his own lashes lowered to half-mast. ] ...a casino, though when you board the airship next, I should caution that you not try the 'pai'.

[ But ah, he does digress. ]

Our destination, at that time, was a temple of old, a dungeon which had been harmful to the land and all those dwelling near. We did not share the same assignment, you and I, however I had faith that we would be reunited shortly after the trial we were to face.

[ … ]

And here we are, it only took a little while longer than I had expected.

[ He laughs, airy and light, with a shake of his head, thinking on how quickly so very much had happened; how he had been brave enough to reach out, only to have that bond, that connection severed from him.

And now... now it is again within his grasp, offered by someone he knows to be impossibly kind, and he is stalling, perhaps hesitant.

(Really, he's being much too silly.) ]

You were present here for but a single month, vanished for another, and now are returned again. I do not know what manner of magic it was that caused such a thing to happen, but rest assured, I intend to find the answer.

[ Hearing about everything they went through together and how Sion describes it...

It's a strange feeling. Almost a little scary—but it's with a bit of awe too. (Although ehehehe... Allen does flash a somewhat sheepish smile at the knowing look Sion shoots him about the casino. ~~Well that sounds accurate.~~)

But it's more than hearing about what history there might be, what they might have done and where they've been. It's about how Sion describes that. He really believes in this world and its places. Its people. That's what Allen takes from that.

So he holds his hand up to stop him at Sion's pledge to find out why though, even if it makes Allen smile as he shakes his head. It's the red left hand too; his uniform didn't come with gloves and he hasn't had the time ~~or money~~ to buy new ones. ] Sion—

[ It's a new name on his tongue, but that's not a bad thing. ]

...It's okay.

It's strange... and I don't know how I feel about it really. It's weird, hearing about things I'm supposed to know about but don't. And I want to know so very badly because I'm afraid of what else there is I might have forgotten.

[ That part scares him worst of all. Perhaps that's why he remembers miss Sakura as well, although it's as if in a dream. Who knows.

But Allen's expression softens then and he lets his hand drop. ]

But you know, that's alright. There isn't any point in worrying about something we can't change now. What I believe is important is what happens now.

Who I am, or who you are—that hasn't changed. [ He hopes. ]

And besides—

[ Smiling brighter than his sword and with such quiet but solid cheer—

—he extends his hand to the other. Warmly and certainly. ]

...now I know why we're friends.

[ Sion didn't have to say the word out loud. It's obvious from how he speaks. ]

[ It's okay.

But is it really? What had befallen Allen, could it not also happen to another? And those who had vanished, who had yet to resurface still, where are they now? The King fears not for his missing Lieutenant General (such a man... someone so despicable, so beautiful, would always land upon his feet regardless of circumstance), but for others; for the prospect that they, those so summoned as Heroes, are being used for far more than warfare. More than anything, it had been his wish to find a path home for all those who had awoke to find themselves displaced, to counteract the magic which linked their worlds to this one, a realm which is sore need of saving, but now...

Now he knows he can do no such thing without first seeing the conflict between Blanc and Noir put to rest, the people of both countries protected and prosperous, resting beneath the veil of peace which he had once sought to spread across his own country and did.

And that peacetime had started with a gesture akin to the one which Allen makes now, extending to him a hand.

Startled is not something which Sion often is, but then, how often is he lucky enough to be reunited with a friend? Friend, Allen's said, and it is not so simply for Sion's own benefit, but for the strength of both, a testament to the path they walk together now, united by more than just common cause.

(In truth, it should not be so very surprising, that Allen would be the one to offer his hand.) ]

What happens now, and what happens next— [ Gingerly, gently, he takes Allen's hand with his own, though for however careful the action is, it is still steadfast; resolute. ] —we will be the ones to decide it.

[ Mana exchanges, between the link of their hands, and it is a little more personal, a touch deeper now Sion is unguarded (at least, in part). The King's energy is a guiding light like that of his sword, protective (of Allen) and of all living things. ]

Though I would ask what it is that has lead you to this epiphany of yours. [ His eyes fall, studying the play of fingers clasped together. ] I will say no more, in regards to how it is I knew you, for you needn't be burdened by it.

Always, there are new memories to make, and if there should be anything more which you have forgotten, it will find its way back to you. The good which one imparts upon the world always does.

[ His voice softens, then, and he gives Allen's hand the barest of squeezes with a curl of his fingers, says that which he thinks the younger man needs to hear, perhaps most of all. ]

You... really haven't changed in the slightest, Allen.

Edited 2016-05-17 03:27 (UTC)

[ It's true, it didn't occur to Allen that perhaps this has happened to other people. And when he finds out he won't be okay with that and will feel righteous fury as people's feelings being toyed with and ripped apart like that. But when it's he who's the victim of that... it's a different story. And the most anger he can feel about it is that it was Sion who was left alone. To Allen—everything is as it always was. He wasn't the one who suffered.

But he has a feeling getting angry for Sion's sake would only upset the other and wouldn't undo what was done. And what's important for the both of them... it's to focus on what's in front of them.

This world, this war. Where they all stand in it and not how they'll fight, though Allen will purely because he feels moved to protect everyone around him... but how they can make the fighting stop so they can all return home.

Even with the Earl, even with Allen's war, hasn't that always been the thing even if it's so far from reach it's hard to think about it so concretely. It's about stopping the cause of all that suffering to begin with. ...Problem is, when it comes to countries and the wars between them—Allen can't understand that. At least, not how you stop that fighting when it's between people fighting about land and power.

It's not so simple as simply destroying the Earl then. But he supposes that now he'll have to learn. And adapt. Because what other choice does he have?

So that's why he said it's okay. Even if it really isn't.

...and there's something about Allen deeply troubled at the idea at prying at what might be closed memories in his head. Even if he wants to know everything so he might better understand and thus be able to do something about it. He might ask Sakura about it later. Maybe. Since they both have shared memories together in this place before they actually met.

Maybe they both went missing in that temple Sion says Allen was supposed last seen in. (That's right, in the dream—he'd been fighting with her in one...) ]

...! [ His eyes widen a bit at the other man's words though. That— Sion...

It means so much. So much that it makes his throat tight and how regardless of realizing he's those words he's needed to hear so badly he didn't even realize it...

(Or that it makes the corners of his eyes smart and well.)

You haven't changed when so many people around him were saying he had. When this man quite frankly has only just re-met him and so quickly accepted him as the person he knew and befriended before.

It's overridden though and any tears are quickly blinked back by what actually takes his breath away because he wasn't expecting it. That tap and surge of connection this time—like something snaps awake in Allen—when the older man takes his hand. Mana transfer. The hair ruffle—it was an odd sort of tingle he'd mostly dismissed. But this...

...Allen hasn't really experienced mana transfer yet. Not really. Actually it had kind of slipped his mind that it was even a thing. ]

What— [ It's a little breathlessly asked, eyes dropping to their hands and then back to Sion's. ]

What is that...? [ It's not bad. It's... kind of like the tingle when his Innocence would hum to life. Kind of a cool, rejuvenating feeling actually. Like being terribly thirsty and suddenly finding water.

That giant sword of his is his mana channeled into holy form after all, and it drains him very quickly. ]

Edited 2016-05-17 05:32 (UTC)

Ah. I forget it, at times, for I have grown so used to it myself, but this is— [ The closeness of camaraderie, and the strongest link; the clearest definition, and the tautest wire all rolled into one little transfer of energy: their hands, now raised before them by the King's own measure of whim, remain locked fast in their hold, though in the moment Allen so wished it, Sion would relinquish his grasp. ] —energy renewal brought about by the exchange of mana.

[ This is the best way to support the younger man, or so Sion thinks, his friend whose grey eyes had been bright with tears only just blinked back—helping him to adjust, to understand. ]

There is something beautiful about it, how the power we lose by practicing magic and wielding the weapons attuned to us might be best restored by a coming together. By an understanding, such as this.

[ And by trusting in someone newly re-met.

(Though, for all the world, the longer they stand here, hand-in-hand upon the beach, the more it seems that they had not parted at all.) ]

Maintaining mana levels is a necessity, and monitoring them when in combat is paramount. Should you ever be in need of the energy to fight on, know that it can be replenished by taking another's hand in your own, or by way of an embrace. The close contact accelerates one's mana intake, and it...

[ Giving pause, he seeks out Allen's eyes, his smile a touch apologetic. ]

...likely feels a bit strange, doesn't it?

A little! [ It's sheepish smiles he cracks. Ah good. He's not the strange one for finding it surprising. ]

But...

..it's not bad.

[ Not when Sion explains it like that. ]

Actually, I think it's sort of reassuring. [ Something nice. If very personal. Because when he explains it like that, isn't it kind of like when he held Lenalee's hand in the Ark? To give strength and support, right? Just... in this case... it's more literal. And intangible. ] Because you know...

[ Relaxing a little—allowing himself to relax to something so foreign, maybe—Allen's own mana signature seeps out like it'd been unconsciously dammed before. Just a trickle at first, uncurling. Like sunlight through a crack.

And Allen's eyes hood a little, white lashes over grey, as he speaks a little more softly. ]

Someone told me that here we're all connected by the powers of this world. That that means we're all responsible to each other, to fight together and for each other. [ That trickle—like he's still holding back his own mana, if that's even possible, like he instinctively fought with himself at the connection—flares a little. The connection between them more an actual connection. Becomes clearer. Brighter. ]

And that because it exists, we're not alone. [ And because we're not alone...

He smiles again, this time bright and certain, eyes lifting up to the other man's as he gives his hand a small but firm squeeze and nods. Like a reaffirmation. A vow. ]

I don't think I really understood what he meant until now...

...But I'll believe it too.

[ And with that vow is Allen and not him just bottling himself up. Because whatever transference there was before with him holding himself back to something tepid and uncertain about the contact—that was nothing compared to this. Like latching on suddenly. Something bright and cool-hot and strong, such a tumble of emotions that it's just searing. Sadness, joy, longing, regret—faith. Like if it were light it'd be something too bright to look at that redefines white itself into heat.

Kind of like his sword.

Unabashed. ]

Edited 2016-05-18 06:58 (UTC)

[ And Allen just smiles at that. So very, well—happily. Honestly and genuinely and like it's nothing special or out of the ordinary. Heh—

He pats his other hand over their clasped ones. Almost like brushing it off as nothing weird at all. ]

So I don't think there's anything strange about that [ part ] at all. [ even if ok the whole concept is weird

and he'll still be even more self-conscious about who he touches and why. ]

[ Something changes, something shifts, and the King finds a sudden, stark reminder of what it is to well and truly feel in the boundless connection which Allen has opened between them; in that vow which is not only meant for him, but all those who walked Enprise and looked toward a brighter future.

Mortals, they have always possessed the strongest power, the greatest faith, and the array of Allen's humanity (his sadness and his joy, his longing and his regret) coalesces into a force with strength enough to tug at the King's heartstrings, pulling from him sentiment which he'd feared might have been gone from him forever.

For the briefest of moments, the world seems warmer, sharper, in more clarity than it has ever been, but then, the sensation is fleeting, even if their handhold should not be. Rather, Allen only strengthens it, lifting his free hand to skirt over their clasped ones, and in that instant, Sion...

Feels guilty, incredibly so, for withholding facets of himself from someone (a friend) who'd offered him so very much. But then...

It is for the best for Allen (or for any other soul) to never come to truly know him, and in that way, he (protects them) will always be alone. ]

Then I am honored to have shown you it. [ Playfully, lightly, he swings the link of their hands in a slow back-and-forth, to and fro. ] May your belief be strong, your blade never dull. May you protect many, befriend many, and one day...

One day, may you know hard-won peace, whether it be in this world, your own, or both.

Edited 2016-05-20 02:59 (UTC)

And in the meantime, if you would so care to oblige me... [ As he gives pause, so too does the swing of their hands slow. ] ...I think I should like to pick up our spar where we left off.

[ Ah? What's this? ]

Once I've finished with you, Allen, you'll never be able to forget me. This, I swear.

[ Game on. ]

[ Ho...

Allen lets their hands begin to drop at that, smiling lightly. Nonchalant as he reaches for his breast pocket and draws his card from it once again. ]

If we played together before at this airship... [ Ever so nonchalantly still, so.. blasé, he spins The Fool in the air, cocking his head to the side in a way that's almost.. conspiratorial.

And catches the card with a snap and a small flourish. ]

...shouldn't you know it's best not to boast?

[ Set and match. ]

[ My, my.

In the wake of such finesse, of such subversive insouciance, how could Sion ever hope not to smile, broad and true, the golden aura he wears as an ever-present shroud glowing all the more brightly as their hands part, leaving him to...!

Put a measure of distance between them, a summons for wind upon his lips to aid in a swift propulsion back, gusts of air stemming from either of his palms to kick up sand, tousle hair, and convey how very light of heart the King is all. ]

Boast? I do you a service, now, more than anything else. You should know who it is you truly face— [ Again, Guiding Light is drawn from its place at its back, the blade glittering and agleam. ] —the Hero King of Roland Empire, Sion Astal. He who sundered the darkness of old and who moves now to not only properly greet a friend...

[ Heartily. With might and with vigor; with a zeal few have seen from Sion himself. ]

...but to learn from him, as well. Allen, I— [ His voice quiets, his smile softens, though both are no less bright for it: ] —cannot thank you enough.

[ But for precisely what goes unsaid. ]

[ Oh, he's fully expecting he's going to have his ass handed to him. That instinct he had when he'd approached Sion in the first place that the man was formidable enough to not be taken lightly, and Allen is without the weapon he's used to here even if he's still got his physical prowess.

And honestly, sparring for Allen generally involves getting beaten into a bit of a pulp. But that's not the point.

It's about giving as good as you get.

And given from the titles Sion's just given, he might be in for a doozy. But Allen smiles and shakes his head; warm and at ease. Relaxed.

This is good. ] The pleasure is mine.

Now— [ Abruptly, he grips The Fool again, conduit that it is, and the manablade shoots out again, forming the illusion of a bright white sword as it shimmers into existence. The selfsame mana Sion had just felt about Allen now taking its form into the weapon.

He spins the sword then, almost like a baton it's impossibly light again in his hands for its size, and takes a ready stance. ]

...where were we?

[ With the cheeriest, cheekiest twinkle. ]

Edited 2016-05-22 15:18 (UTC)

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Training at Sunrise

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1/3 ide.........

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1/2 TURNS TO COMMENT CHAINS...

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yes good c:

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