Months after the initial testing, Alonso makes good on his promise to 'let her know when the time is right'. The time is, apparently, right. He rouses her early one morning, makes her breakfast, and lets her know he's taking her into the hedge for her final exams. He doesn't put too much emphasis on this being a make or break ordeal, if anything he's treating it precisely like any other day. That is, to some extent, entirely the point. They start at stoneheart, however, and do not immediately ride out. The combat portion of the testing is to take place right there in the freehold's hollow, where it's safest should anything go wrong. He's got boxing gloves, shinai, and other safe-- or as safe as can be realistically managed --alternatives are on offer. The first order of business, however, is the weight lifting. Helpfully aided by a rope tied through the middle of a mill stone. Because old school, that's why. Alonso simply gestures to the stone and nods his head. "Squat thrusts. Until you can't any longer. I expect you to release the weight /safely/, so know your limits, yes?"
The thing about Earthbones and weight? As long as her feet touch the ground, she's stronger. Way stronger. Gisa may not do as well at other parts of the challenge, but they start at one of the things she's quite literally best at. She hefts the millstone a lot more easily than anyone has a right to do, and settles it on her shoulders, then lifts it up in the air. Lowers it to the ground. And so on. And she's a stubborn fuck, even if she doesn't always make a point of showing it. He saw this the first time with her, too. She's just... rooted in the ground, drawing strength from it. And when her bones are turning to jelly and her joints are aching, she finally lowers the stone to the ground again with a wobbly grunt. "Hngh." It's the first thing she's said since he told her that it was final exam day.
"Improvement, if you can imagine it," Alonso states without approval or amazement. Or disapproval, even. His tone is very mild, despite the show. No doubt this is purposeful, given the circumstances. Some aloofness is to be expected. "Take some time to recover, have some water if you need it. Then put on your boxing gloves." Alonso, while she's recovering, puts on his target pads for his hands. He gives them the sort of thwacking one might give to a baseball glove the first time you're putting it on for the summer, working out the stiffness in the leather. He passes whatever additional time is required by swinging his hands through the counterpoint to a few boxing combinations. Practicing the reception of her blows the way she might practice her intention to dish them out. Once she's ready, he squares up before her, lifts up the target mitts, and waits.
-> >> Gisa to Here << <-==============================================
Rolled 4 Successes
< 5 5 6 6 8 9 9 10 >
=============================-> >> Resolve + Survival No Flags << <-
GAME: Gisa spends 1 Glamour
She spends no time whatsoever; Gisa shakes her limbs out, and tips her chin up a little bit when he informs her that, yes, she's done better this time. Yes, she expected that. A golem tries to always become stronger. Once she's literally spent ten seconds shaking out her limbs, her Mantle flaring with that scent of ozone, of a match being struck, that moment of change, she approaches Alonso and drops easily into her fighting stance, lowering her center of gravity. Once more she doesn't say anything: she just does as instructed, her fiery eyes flickering.
She must have spent a good deal of time on the speed bag, because this go around her blows fall rapidly and squarely on his target gloves. Even when he startes to get creative, her fists slam home with punishing thuds. Truth told, she starts to wear down his own hands and arms well ahead of the waning of her blows. But he sticks with it, wincing a bit here and there when she slams home a particularly nasty blow. At the end of things, he's left shaking out his hands and rubbing at his throbbing palms. There's a gruff chin up as he states, "Clear improvement." It's a small mercy for him that the next test doesn't involve him doing anything more involved than watching where the arrows land. He makes a small gesture towards the bow and arrows, then over at the hay bale and target over yonder.
-> >> Gisa to Here << <-==============================================
Rolled 3 Successes
< 1 2 4 5 7 7 9 9 10 >
==========================-> >> Dexterity + Athletics No Flags << <-
-> >> Gisa to Here << <-==============================================
Rolled 5 Successes for an exceptional success.
< 3 3 4 5 5 8 9 9 10 10 >
==========================-> >> Dexterity + Athletics No Flags << <-
-> >> Gisa to Here << <-==============================================
Rolled 2 Successes
< 1 1 2 3 3 6 8 10 >
=============================-> >> Resolve + Survival No Flags << <-
And she doesn't leave him in pain, either -- there's no need. "Motek," she says simply, and there's a flash of pride in her eyes when he says there's clear improvement in her fighting. Gisa's tired, now, and she shakes out her hands, but then her right hand reaches out and gently touches his shoulder, sending warmth through muscle and bone. There's no reason to be in pain if you're the one who made breakfast, after all. Then she picks up the bow -- not as pretty or as flashy as his bow, of course -- and lifts it, loading her first arrow. And here? She's light years beyond where she was before. She was good before. This time? She splits her second to last arrow with her last arrow. It is possible she's showing off for her boyfriend. Maybe.
-> >> Alonso to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 1 Success
< 1 2 2 4 5 5 6 6 6 7 9 >
=======================-> >> Dexterity + Weaponry + 3 No Flags << <-
"Improvement," Alonso needlessly observes with another small nod of the head. Three for three thusfar. "Good. Now. Grab a shinai and a mask and meet me on the mat." Here, when they pair off, Alonso will finally have something of an advantage on her. The simulacrum of a sword is as natural in his hands as if it were a part of him, rather much like her own fists when applied in the defense of others. He limbers up by working his way through a few katas, then squares himself up yet again in order to receive the best she can offer him. Once she's ready, he simply keeps on the defensive, retreating his steps and fending off her attacks with the firm clack of wood on wood. After what feels like minutes, but is probably far less time, he leaves a brief opening in his defenses. Blink and you'll miss it, but there it is. Sufficient to leave a crack on his mask if capitalized upon.
"Mmmhm," she agrees. Damn right she did. There's pride, at a low burn, underneath the golem's surface. It's there, though.
She's not nearly as adept with a weapon in her hands; a golem isn't made for such things. Gisa moves far more awkwardly with the weapon in her hands than he does, and she feels it. The strikes reverberate back into her hands as she tries to get through his guard and he skitters back defensively. Now, she knows that he's really good at not getting hit. Like, obscenely good. Which means that the opening in his defense must have been left deliberately.
That doesn't mean she isn't going to take it and try to crack him on the mask.
The opening that was left, she'd missed her first go around. This time she does not, and the blow lands squarely on the front of his mask. Probably leaves his ears ringing a little, truth told. He withdraws a few steps, lowers his guard, and nods his head in acknowledgement. "Improvement. That's a sweep of the combat category." No congratulations are offered, though making note of the fact she swept the category might be construed as such, under the circumstances. He removes his mask and sets that and his weapon aside, gesturing for her to follow him towards the exit from the hollow. "Outside, on the trod, I've erected a bit of an obstacle course. It differs from the one you ran the first time around, as I'm interested in testing your talents here, not your memory. You'll have to sneak past Rojo and Aguila, find the hedgefruit planted on the side of the road, discern if it's poisonous or not, steal it out from under the noses of my horse without tipping him off, then come back in here and see if you can weasel out of the hobs here where you can trade it in with the locals for some information." You know. Easy. "For this part, I'm going to simply sit down and observe."
The golem tips her chin up again and props her hands on her hips in what's commonly called the Superman pose. It's just how she stands a lot of the time, he's well aware, but right now? She's pretty damn happy. Swept the combat category. "A golem should," she informs him. That is, after all, a large portion of why they are made.
Gisa listens to the obstacle course that was set up, and her eyebrows go up. Perhaps this obstacle course is a little more absurd than the one that he set up the first time. Perhaps not. "I see."
And so she grunts, and turns on her heel to go out and undertake this obstacle course.
She sneaks past the hawk and the horse, plucks up the hedgefruit at the side of the road. A moment's examination finds it to be a common healing fruit and thus not poisonous. She's so proud of herself for sneaking past Aguila and Rojo the first time that she doesn't notice that the horse has, in fact, noticed her.
It informs her of same by biting her ass, which makes her yelp; she'd smack said horse, except -- well -- it gets its just desserts in the fact that it just tried to take a bite out of a ceramic butt. "Sore teeth, horse?" she mutters, and then heads in to weasel information out of the hobs, absently rubbing her butt with her hand. That, she does, and then hands the fruit over to Alonso. All done.
Alonso takes the fruit from her, tosses it up into the air, and catches it with his opposite hand before taking a big juicy bite from it. Crunch. He chews it noisily for a time before swallowing with some measure of satisfaction. He must have planted it there for the taste. There's a faint hint of butterscotch that carries in the air after he takes that first bite. He explains the next challenge rather manner of factly, "As a Marxist-Leninist, I believe strongly in the science of dialectical materialism. Analyzing the material conditions of society and undertaking such changes as are necessary to improve the material conditions of society, such that over time society is incrementally improved. A constant analysis of the self and of one's society will instruct one generally about what actions one might undertake on a regular basis to help improve ones own material conditions and those of others." She's probably heard this song and dance from him about a thousand times. "So. Your task, whether or not you accept dialectical materialism or not, is to at least attempt a dialectic analysis of a socio-political problem that exists here in Fate's Harvest, identify potential causes, and then suggest potential solutions. Then you must defend your thesis to me, and finally put pen to paper and draft a manifesto illustrating your dialectics in a concise, easily digestible format. Such as might appear on a handbill." Alonso glances out the mouth of the cave to make note of the sun and then informs her, "You have until sun down to complete your work. Begin."
The showboating with the hedgefruit makes her actually crack a smile, no matter how stoic she normally is and how nervous she totally isn't hiding that she is.
"Yes, motek," Gisa agrees with his statements. She has heard this song and dance from him before. At least twice a day and three times on Shabbos, the day of resting and also talking philosophy, apparently. She raises her eyebrows at the task put before her, and pauses. "I see."
She comes back to him a bit later and posits that one of the main problems she has encountered is the lack of consistent communication between the various subgroups in the Freehold -- she has no idea what the Greenies are up to, for example, and perhaps the leaders are aware, but a consistent line of communication that isn't the person in charge would be a good idea. The boss is always busy, after all, so maybe having another person whose job it is to be point of contact for the Custodians, or the Harvestmen, would be good. Plus, it gives another person a purpose beyond simply being a Custodian. And this, of course, is where she loses the anarchosocialist, who doesn't want any more jobs for anyone, just for things to get done. She can't convince him... but her paper is good. "Well, that is my analysis," Gisa finishes, simply enough. "One cannot see the rabbi for everything. Sometimes the cantor or a rebbe is a good fit." Of course that's how she'd phrase it.
"I still maintain it is unnecessary for someone to have it be their job to ensure someone else shares what they know. Just share what you know if it's necessary to be known, and those interested in knowing it can listen. Or read. Or what have you. And what good is a job of information sharing if the people who are the bottleneck of information currently continue not to share? The problem would not exist if they simply shared what they know now." Alonso's shoulders lift and fall, his head shakes in obvious disagreement. He feels, no doubt, that his logic is sound in this. "Still, you concisely encapsulated your point, and I concur that you have identified a shortcoming that requires a solution. I would encourage you to present your analysis respectfully to those in charge of the various groups. Perhaps they will see matters differently than I do." With that all said and done, Alonso gestures out the mouth of the cave towards the horse who stands idle by, gnawing on the low tough grasses that line the well traveled path. "Rojo will take you down towards the village near our hollow. I've secured the cooperation of some of the villagers. They're going to present you with three individuals. It will be up to you to decide which of the three will respond best to intimidation, to coercion, and to simple comraderie. Your job will be to corroborate the information the hob here gave you about the best place to pawn off those fruits. Grab another before you head out, as this one is sort of half-eaten." He takes another chomp to make good on that description. "Once you've traded that fruit for something else, bring it on back here. Whatever it might be. This will be your final test."
"It creates a purpose and a responsibility. Sharing once a month at Court does not enough." Gisa shrugs her shoulders, and lets the matter drop. She's never going to convince the anarchist that more structure is a good idea, and he's never going to convince the golem that less' structure is a good idea. So it is, and so it may be.
She listens to what Alonso has to say, and nods her head once before swinging herself up onto the back of the horse. Gisa knows how to ride, and doesn't remember where she knows how to ride from. It's one of those things that happens when you sell your memories.
Funny thing: when someone trades you a seashell for a fruit (she does get a whole fruit) and you think well this is probably just part of the test and you don't realize until you get halfway back up the road that something is in the shell because you're not used to sniffing out lies? Well, you come riding back up the road with a profoundly agoraphobic little crab whining at you from your jeans pocket about how it will just stay in your pocket forever and how you cannot make it leave your pocket.
Apparently no matter whether or not Gisa wants a Hedgebeast Companion? She has one, now. Swinging down from the horse, the golem sighs, profoundly. "I made the trade," she sighs. "They did not tell me about Herbert."
Apparently they didn't tell Alonso about him either, because he looks briefly puzzled before he busts out laughing once he grasps what she's talking about. "Oh, that's priceless. Oh, that's too good. I asked them to try to screw you in the trade, I didn't expect them to foist off a-- uh. Herbert. On you." Herbert, given his druthers, might only be seen by a pair of eyestalks poking rather cartoonishly out of the shell from time to time. That, and the hollow echoing of his somewhat dopey, high pitched complaining. Gisa's got her work cut out for her if she intends to befriend and domesticate that ball of anxiety. Alonso can't help but chuckle at the outcome of the whole experiment, though. "I did not anticipate this would be today's outcome, but honestly I'm tickled. It's quite the cherry on top of everything else. Once you've calmed your friend down and decided what to do with him, you can swear the Pilgrim's pledge and you will become one of us. With all the rights and priveleges that conveys, along with all the nigglesome drawbacks." Such as symmetric perfection, and a penchant for running off on wild adventures from time to time.
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