There'd been a lot of chatter about Aspire Arena the night before, and Vorpal's there today, doing some legwork to get the place ready to open again. This means a lot of boring, menial cleaning, but at least it's something to -do-. So, he's doing. And, since there's nobody else around, he's doing it in typical godly fashion- entirely too fast for human hands, because he can always buy another broom if this one catches fire.
Which it won't.
... probably.
Peggy buzzes in from outside; presumably she's let in, because otherwise this isn't really going anywhere, is it? The golden-haired Treasured is dressed in sneakers, leggings, and a long top that's belted at the waist. "Um. Hello?" she calls, blinking at the blurry sweeper. "Are you busy? I can come back later, if you like."
Vorpal swoops to a stop at Peggy's voice, flipping the broom up with the last of its momentum and slinging it over his shoulder. "Not busy enough to refuse to pause! Peggy, yes? Has anyone told you that you really should meet Logan sometime? You and he have a lot in common. Visually speaking, I mean, you seem rather delightfully distinct in pretty much every other way." He strides over to conversational distance, head tilting. "No need to come back later. Were you here to wonder about the job? Or the practice?" His grin widens. "I'd usually add a third option for "just couldn't stop thinking about me", but anyone who has that wide-eyed 'hey wait what the shit' look when they first meet me?" He laughs, thoroughly amused at himself. "Youuuuusually isn't in that category, I've found."
Peggy seems a bit taken aback. Also, her cheeks tinge with gold again. The blush. "I haven't met Logan, no. Um. I came about the practice and the job would be good, too. Not the... other thing." She raises her hand to gesture toward the broom on his shoulder. "I could sweep, so you don't have to. I'm a pretty tidy person."
"Do you -want- to? Or do you feel like you -should-? Because if it's the latter, don't worry about it, you can do that some other time. The practice is far more fun to discuss." Vorpal's grin widens as that gold flush floods Peggy's cheek. Mission accomplished.
"So. I imagine you got an idea, last night, of what you'd be working towards if you kept practicing with swords. Is that how you want to proceed? It's perfectly viable to specialize in your fists, instead, or with knives, axes, spears- what -feels- right to you? Do you want to try a few more weapons before you decide? Not like you can't change your mind later."
Peggy shifts her weight from foot to foot. It's hard to relax around Vorpal - he is so very clearly other. Much more than she herself is. "I could sweep another time. I'd rather practice, too." She pauses, biting her bottom lip for a moment. "I was thinking about taking up archery, for a ranged attack. And also because people do archery and it's not that weird a hobby to have if you're a normal person. I still think I'd like the sword, but knives might be good to try. Just... those are more close-up than swords. The sword would give me... reach, right?"
"You'd think so. But here. Let me show you something." Vorpal tosses the broom to her and brandishes his freed hands, letting the flesh fade from them and expose the bladed curls beneath. "I'm not going to touch you, don't worry. It settles more firmly when one has some inherent respect for how close they have to get to something truly scary. Again- I won't touch you. Now. Choke up on the broom so it's about as long as a sword. Then come over here and tell me that distance -really- makes you feel any safer or not." He adopts a boxer's pose- which makes sense, the razor edges lie along his knuckles, not the inside of those blades- and shadow boxes, just to illustrate -his- range while she tests her own with the "sword."
Peggy catches the broom deftly enough; she nods to him and chokes up on it, though her lips are pressed together. It really doesn't feel like a sword, but this is about feeling safe. She creeps toward him, steps light. She's quite quiet. "About here. Where you have to lunge more to reach me than I have to swing at you." A bit under a sword's length away.
"Ah, you're starting to understand," Vorpal explains. "You're already feeling a little nervous back there, even though you aren't close enough to hurt me yet. There's one big advantage to knives that swords don't have." And just like that, Vorpal backhands the broom and whips in closer, throwing exactly one punch past her head, close enough to ruffle the pretty gold strands at the end of her ponytail.
"Swords are -far- easier to smack aside. You -feel- safer, but it's an illusion. When you're in that phantom zone of safety, all you're really doing is asking them to hit your sword, THEN you. Your real zone of control is a good pace or two nearer, where THEY still have a LITTLE further to go, but YOU can hit them, slash them, stab them. And the difference between the control zone for swords, and for knives? That's basically nonexistent. I mean, it's THERE, but you won't really feel it. It's like I said. An illusion."
Peggy starts when he closes the distance, throws the punch. She's got pretty good reflexes. Really, there's potential here, for all that she might not look impressive. She takes a step to the side, readying her sword once more. "Okay," she says thoughtfully. "What about a sword AND a knife?"
"Well, that depends," Vorpal says, musing on the speed of her reaction. "It's not easy. Having only one hand on your main weapon costs you some leverage, and you need a lot if you're gonna be using lighter weapons. But it's basically what I do- I just do a knife and an empty hand. That's honestly my recommendation, a light blade and your free hand. You said you're decent at throwing punches, yes? Having a free hand opens up a lot of defensive and manipulative options. You don't HAVE to do a knife- a light sword would work nearly as well."
"Oh. I don't know that I'm decent with punches yet, but I've gotten better," Peggy explains. "Maybe a light sword, then. Though a knife is easier to conceal, which is kind of important. Depending on how often things happen outside the Hedge. Do things happen outside the Hedge?"
Vorpal backpaces a step to give Peggy her personal space back, flesh fading in to hide the blades that seem to be his phalanges. "Of course it does. We had a group of serial killers in town who'd been travelling from place to place slaughtering changelings as a profession. From what I've heard, Hunters like that aren't uncommon. Some know enough not to hunt us the way they do the real monsters, but there's also just muggers, thugs, gangsters and psychos. I mean, how much more dangerous do you think you are now, than when you were human? Not the skills you've picked up, I mean between your natural blessings and the clauses you've picked up. Do you think you're significantly more easily defended now than you were as a human?"
Peggy exhales. "A little?" she ventures. "Not significantly enough, though." Her nose wrinkles. "I don't want to be what I was before. As a human. I want to do better and be stronger." She shrugs a shoulder, a display of indifference that is just that - a display.
"That's a great goal, but I'm making a specific point. Most of us- myself not included, but I am an exception- are -not- significantly more dangerous or harder to kill than we were before we were Taken. You are- or at least look like- a pretty young woman. That makes you a target for rapists, a target for muggers- as absurd as it is, you looking female puts you more at risk for lots of crimes, most of which have nothing to do with your gender. Which is a very long way of saying "yes, lots of things happen this side of the Hedge, and not all because we're fairies." But the nice thing is, it doesn't take all that much effort to become every mugger's worst nightmare. And that's before you even start delving into contracts."
When he calls her pretty, Peggy winces. Just a bit, and she schools her face back to neutrality in the blink of an eye. "I understand," she says quietly. She tilts her head to the left. "Can you show me some drills to practice? So I can improve my muscle memory?"
Vorpal ponders. "I can do you one better. What we can do, because we are who we are, is Pledge, to GIVE you muscle memory for a time. Then you can work on making what you've done something you don't need the pledge to do. I want you to show -yourself- what those muscle memories should be like. It doesn't change the work you'll need to put in. It just gives you a far clearer picture of where you're going."
Peggy blinks, nodding slowly. "I... okay. I haven't Pledged before, though. I'm not really sure what it entails. What... would I have to do?"
"It's simple. Just agree to this promise," Vorpal explains.
"For the next month, we enter into a partnership. I teach- you learn. So long as we pursue this with good faith, may the Wyrd bless my fists and mind, and your hands and blade. Should one of us abandon this partnership before its time, may our blessings turn upon the traitor for a full season."
Vorpal gives Peggy a prompting look!
Peggy considers this for a few moments. Seems legit! And so she inclines her head. "I agree." She holds her hand out to shake. "Is that all I have to do? Just say that, or do I need to say the same things about fists and blades?"
That question is answered almost immediately by the magic of the Pledge settling over the pair of them. Vorpal grins at her and shakes his head. "Nope. You already sealed the deal, you're fine. Come! Let's test your new talents. You should -feel- how to wield your blade with finesse instead of force, now- not to mention know how to get into position faster and what to do when under attack by multiple opponents. Ever fought more than one person? Felt that overwhelming hammer as you have to fend off more than one blow at a time? It should take at least three people to start overwhelming you now."
"Oh!" exclaims Peggy as the weight of the Pledge comes to be. "I... that's very interesting. That's a very interesting sensation." She raises the broom again, head bobbing. "Also I have never fought more than one person. Or, um, any persons. Unless you count last night, and I'm not sure I do. Let's practice!"
Vorpal grins and paces back a couple steps. A length of wood spins into his hand, seemingly from nowhere (but really, just from being shoved into his belt behind him). It's a NASTY looking thorn, but he reverses his grip to keep the blunt end forward. "Certainly. Come at me, I want you to feel the way you can shift the weapon's weight to quicken your first strikes."
Peggy is impressed by the sudden appearance of the knife. Thorn. Thorn-knife. There's wide blue eyes and blinking. She looks down at the broom in her hands and back up at him. "Using the broom?" They did just agree to improving her with something more... swordlike.
"Hm. Maybe not the broom." Vorpal tosses the thorn, letting it skitter along the floor rather than risk the point stabbing into her. Aaaaand produces a second thorn with the same careless ease. "That'll do for now. You hold it proper."
Peggy nods, moving over to the wall (ponytail swinging) and leaning the broom there. Then she's stooping to collect the thorn. She turns it in her hand, and a little smile curves her lips. Yes, she can feel the difference. Peggy lopes toward Vorpal, knife in hand, and closes quickly. The thorn lashes out toward his chest.
Vorpal whips to the side when Peggy comes in hot, the thorn lancing through the air where his chest had just been. He sidesteps around Peggy and strikes her in the back with the flat of his palm. Not hard enough to hurt, but... it's REALLY hard not to show off at least a little. He dances back a pace, thorn spun once in his hand. "So!" He starts conversationally. "You don't like being called pretty? Or don't like -being- pretty? Which one?"
Peggy grins, even though she didn't hit. Even though there was no way she could have ever hit. She can feel the difference, and it feels goo. The grin falters, fades when Vorpal asks that question. "Neither," she says. "Both. It's... hard to explain." Her cheeks tinge gold again. "And kind of embarrassing?" She reverses her grip on the knife, going for an overhead stab this time. She plunges the thorn knife down toward his heart.
Vorpal snaps his own thorn upwards as she brings hers down, locking it against her hands before bringing his own free hand down across the thorn and leveraging it out of her palms. He catches it midspin and offers it back, handle-first. "Hm. Interesting. That's awkward, I imagine. Let me think," he says as he dances back away from her after returning the weapon. "You blush gold, hair is literally spun aurum- am I off target guessing you got to spend a lot of time on display? Is that why? I call it awkward because the same way that people's first reaction seeing ME is "oh my fucking god what is happening", their first reaction seeing -you- must usually be "aw, she's so pretty." Which we've established isn't your favorite. But. If it bugs you, I'll refrain from that particular comment. Would you prefer if I told you how well-placed your first blow was instead? You seem to have a knack for this."
Peggy's eyes are wide when he disarms her so easily... and then hands the thorn back. "Oh," she says. "Thank you." When someone gives you something, you say thank you. It's automatic for her. She swallows, nods. "I do prefer the latter, thank you." She offers a little smile to him, adjusting her grip on the thorn and slashing out again. "I know it's not ---- compared to other people, my Durance wasn't... all that bad, considering? Just being on display. And being very still. I'm guessing yours was... much worse."
Vorpal leans back in an impossible, whip-like move, letting the slash eat the air in front of him. "It was its own sort of horrid. I'd say yours sounds worse to me. I'd rather spend decades hunting rapists in a dark dungeon than spend a week on display. I thrive on accomplishment, challenge, success. Being forced into -nothingness- for any length of time would be crushing, no matter how admired. I'd prefer my Durance. I see the horror in yours." His tone is effortlessly casual as they spar, letting her go all out and test her limits without concern.
If Peggy had seen The Matrix, that move would have reminded her of the movie. She has not. Her mouth opens anyway until she snaps it shut again. "You move... that's amazing," she breathes. Peggy tries to feint. It does not work the best, but still, she tries another strike. "Mmmn. Still. It's a little embarrassing. I don't remember much at all."
"I understand," agrees Vorpal, moving to catch Peggy as she starts to trip in the clumsy attempt at the feint. "Careful," he warns idly, before stepping back again to let her do her thing. "I imagine, faced with all these people who endured horrendous torture or loss, being "forced to be pretty" for a while must feel... pathetic. Pitiful, embarrassing. But. The -point- is. You're doing something about it. Right? After being forced to literally be an object, now, you're refusing objectification. You're claiming agency. You're going to be a force, not a goal. Don't be embarrassed about where you came-" He suggests, abruptly snapping forward around her weapon to deliver three- five- HOW many times did he punch the air beside her head?! "-be proud of where you're headed."
Peggy is sparring with Vorpal. Sort of. Mostly, she practicing trying to hit him, and he is deftly dodging and pointing things out to her. She's moving with more ease than she did last night, for those who were present (Teagan), which is interesting on its own.
Lips pressed together, flinching at the phantom strikes despite the fact they don't hit her, Peggy nods in response to Vorpal's words. "That's exactly it. That's exactly what I'm going to do," she confirms. This time she tries a thrust that would probably be better suited to a rapier. But she's trying.
There's a new group of gym-goers that have arrived to the place, even though at least -one- of them is trying to stay well and good out of sight, by skirting around the edge of the room to get into position behind Vorpal. Should Peggy spot her, she holds up an elongated, webbed finger to her dark lips, continuing to stalk towards the godling. Alas, she isn't presently the most stealthy around, even though the wind seems to have calmed the click of claws on the floor somewhat.
Ziv is trying to sneak up on Vorpal? Teagan's mirrored eyes glitter sharply as they lead June in; their fingers are knit companionably in with June's. They bump their shoulder against the red panda amusedly, leans and kisses the top of June's head, and then... they disappear.
Because, ya know, there's sneaking, and then... there's ... well. Teagan.
June rarely tries to be sneaky, since it usually doesn't work out well anyway. She's clumsy enough that the only thing stealthy about her is that she's tiny, so she can be easy to overlook. That's probably why she's chattering as she enters, and holding Teagan's hand. She wobbles a bit and laughs when her shoulder is bumped, and doesn't seem surprised when Tegan disappears. She just keeps chatting. "I just wish there was a proper climbing gym too," she continues off of whatever she was saying before. Because one thing June IS good at, inexplicably, is climbing. And talking to empty air, evidently.
"Good. Own your past, wield it to build your future. Take what was DONE to you, and DO, with it," Vorpal encourages, flourishing his thorn in a swatting twirl that bats the thrust -just- too far to that side of his form. He pauses in their spar, holding up a finger as the weave of the Wyrd quivers with approaching presences. He notes three, feels one vanish, but recognizes the clause in us. "Ahhh. It's to be -that- sort of afternoon, is it?" He says, to nobody in particular. Then, to Peggy- "We have guests. One of them is being sneaky, one of them is being -very- sneaky, and the other is... hm," he murmurs as he catches the last bit of June's ramblings. "... wants a climbing wall? That's not a terrible idea at all."
Peggy pauses, lowering her weapon - one of Vorpal's thorn knives - and peers about. "Oh?" she prompts. "Oh. I didn't realize people were coming," she says. "I thought this place was still closed, actually."
Ziv, if nothing else, is at least set to -try-... and probably fail to actually do anything, but while Vorpal's not looking at her she -lunges-. Wings out, foot claws back. She's really just trying to throw her wings around him and get a proper hold on the Shadowsoul. Most likely, though, she's going to fail.
The other Shadowsoul, who moves as light as a feather and as soundless as... well. Uh. Soundlessness? Slides up alongside Vorpal while he's distracted by getting jumped on by Ziv... and whatever was in his pockets? Disappears into Teagan's. Who still can't be seen. Though there is a crackle of radio static and a broiling heat that hangs in the air, it's not the sort of thing you can use to pin someone's location with...
The warmth of June's summer mantle kind of gets drowned out around Tegan's, and probably other stronger mantles as well, since hers is pretty middling. When Ziv tries to punch Vorpal she stops and stares, blinking a couple of times, and then she just shakes her head like she's pretending it didn't happen and replies to what was said, "of course it's a good idea! It was mine." The tiny red panda girl is laughing as she says this, so hopefully it's humor not hubris. "I'm June," she introduces then, giving Vorpal and Peggy both a bright (and startlingly sharp-toothed) smile.
"Well. Strictly speaking, it -is.- But as I'm well aware, that doesn't always keep folks from wandering in. Rather a danger of being a changeling-centric establishment, isn't it?" He executes a rather elegant sidestep-tripstep-catch when Ziv does her best to tackle him, ending with the diminutive bat dangling under one of his arms while he tries VERY hard to look like that's not taking a lot of effort to support her. "Ah, Ziv! Hello there, little one. Who've you brought to say hello?" Static, heat, asphalt. "Teagan, I see, and- ah! Hello, June, it's a pleasure." He bows, turning Ziv vertical by association as he does so, gently letting her slide ears-first onto the floor before straightening. "Teagan, do come out, you're starting to make me twitch."
Peggy's lower lip curves under to be lightly seized by her upper teeth. "Hello," she greets the newcomers. She raises her free hand to give a little wave. "I'm Peggy. I'm kind of new around here."
Ziv squeaks in surprise as she's grabbed and dangled, going perhaps annoyingly limp while Vorpal moves her about. And then he puts her down on her head, and she slumps to the floor, limbs spread out and back contacting next, before she rolls over and sits upwards. One wing reaches up to scratch at the back of her head, and she looks over at Peggy. "'Lo. You're new here?" she wonders, before starting to get to her feet. She's wearing some basketball shorts and an oversized hoodie - a bit different than the usual lazy wear. And even lazier.
"Well, welcome!" June says to Peggy with cheer and enthusiasm, her default mode when she's not angry. Which is most of the time, actually, which might be why her Summer mantle isn't the strongest. "Are you getting settled in well? And is that just new around here, or new lyback entirely? Either way, let me know if I can do something to help." Tiny, clumsy, adorable, and friendly. Not really the picture of a model Summer courtier, nope. She turns to look at Vorpal and remarks, "you're kind of impressive."
The Darkling doesn't come out, not yet. But what does come out -- and maybe this is why Teagan doesn't appear yet -- are a wallet, a cellphone, and a red queen chess piece, all of which are casually tossed at Vorpal's head. Not really aimed, just sort of... flung, the way someone would underhand a beer to someone, perhaps. They don't say anything yet. And keep moving, in case ... well. In case.
Vorpal adds his hand to Ziv's atop her head when she scritches a moment, ruffling the wild little mane affectionately. He offers a hand down when Ziv moves to get to her feet- no hard feelings, clearly, and the flying objects, idly flicked his way? Wallet and cell, plucked from the air and chucked into his other hand, newly retrieved from Zivhead. The queen stays in his hand, and- for an instant- is studied by a particularly blank expression, before all are tucked away. June has a number of perfectly reasonable questions, and he lets the women hash out their conversation for the moment.
"Thank you!" Peggy tells June with a smile. "I'm not new-new, I've been out for a bit and in town for a while. I'm settled, I'm staying with my sis... oh." Peggy trails off, raising her arm to look at her wristwatch. Who even wears those nowadays? "I'm sorry. I need to get going. Nice to meet you, everyone! Thank you, Mister Vorpal!"
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