Dielle is back in Kerrigan's Sacrifice, with that practice cupboard full of non-hurty weaponry in it, and the cooler full of sports drinks and water. And again, she's practicing her archery, which she's ok at but not great, which is kind of normal for her: she's more the Jack of All Trades sort, and she's looking very thoughtful today. Her hair's pulled back tightly into a braid that's been turned into a bun, and she's wearing leggings and a t-shirt. And it's a weekday night and time for some learning or teaching. Or just running interference.
Vorpal is on hand early, and changed to more agreeable clothing for a spar. His coat- a dark grey greatcoat, RAF-cut, is set aside with his hoodie set atop it, and a scattering of weapons atop those. Hedgespun butcher knife, a few Stabapple thorns, and an absolutely wicked-looking darkened metal blade without a hint of the supernatural to it. Vorpal's searching through the cabinet for daggers suiting his needs at the moment, explaining something to Dielle, calling over to the wanna-be archer. "... and since I've held steady and relatively sane at my strength for... well, a few -years- now, Heather seemed confident I could do the job. Which I was, as well, of course. Confident, I mean."
Peggy rushes in, ponytail swaying. "Hello! Sorry I'm late!" She is tardy by maybe a minute. Peggy is a keener, though, and super eager. "Hi, Mister Vorpal!" She has yet to stop calling him that. "Hi, Dielle!" Peggy peels off her coat - it looks a bit too thin - and finds somewhere to put it down.
Dielle beams. "I don't know if anyone's coming yet, or not, but if not, that's ok, too, it means you'll have more training time, Peggy. Heya, Johnny! Who's Heather?" She's just happy anyone showed, by the looks of things, and happier that it's all actual Harvestmen.
"Eh? Heather's our Councilor. Dawn's, I mean. You haven't met her?" Vorpal pauses. "... though, I suppose, -I- hadn't either, until relatively recently. She's neat. Keeps a horse farm." He turns to Peggy and plants his hands on his too-thin hips, as if he's ACTUALLY irritated at her tardiness. "You SHOULD be sorry, young lady- though for calling me MISTER instead of being all of 74 seconds late."
"Sorry!" Peggy immediately says. "I just... it's weird. It feels weird. Also, you are a teacher and it's just disrespectful not to mister you." She sidles toward the magical weaponry and asides to Dielle, "I've been working with a rapier lately. I've started with archery, too."
"That's great, Peggy! You realize that you're gonna end up a total badass, right? I mean, physically. Anyone who manages to escape is a badass mentally, just for having the strength to get out!" Dielle sounds delighted. "I can do some sword-fighting, a lot of the moves for knife translate to sword or stick, which means if you can do one, you can do all of them to some extent. But it doesn't mean you won't end up better with what you practice with most, if that makes sense." She says to the pair in front of her, "So, what do you guys want to work on today?"
"Fairly pointed, though I consider "Mister" a rather stark step down from the implicit godhood contained in just using my name," explains Vorpal- though his cheeky grin and utter lack of ACTUAL agitation says that if he ACTUALLY cares, it's not much at all. "As for what we're going to do? I leave it up to the two of you. I'm here to share my skills, and let them become more commonly known so that my comrades and commander know better what I'm capable of."
Peggy beams a sunny smile at Dielle. "I certainly hope so!" And she clears her throat gently as she takes a slender practice sword from the armory. "Well, um... just Vorpal sounds... a little... silly to me," she says super quietly. Timid.
"I dunno. Names are weird on a good day. Look at me. Who the HELL would name their kid "DaisyLu" except a sadist?" asks Dielle. "Which is why I go by my initials." Her face darkens a moment, like she's thinking of what she's gonna do if she ever gets ahold of the person who gave her the name she has. "At least Vorpal's named after a kind of sword. Even if I do wanna start making serious amounts of Jabberwocky jokes."
"Pfft," protests Vorpal. "It's -hardly- silly. "Johnny" is a silly name. "Mister Drexel" is a silly name. "Vorpal" sounds like someone you'd best be wary of, lest they go snickersnack! And with your head, go gallumphing- okay, too far, now it sounds silly to me, too."
"Is THAT why you go by Dielle? I thought that WAS your name!" Vorpal's clearly surprised, though he nods encouragingly. "I'd do the same, were I you. But I chose that name. It wasn't given to me. I feel like I've earned it, though."
Peggy's head bobs, ponytail swinging. See? Vorpal is a silly name. But Dielle's got her surprised, too. Peggy blinks a couple of times. "It's 'Dielle' like 'dee-ell'? Daisy is a nice name, though! I had a friend named Daisy in school."
"Daisy isn't bad. DaisyLu is /horrid/. But yeah, Jon always slurs my initials together, so I started going by that. I do like it better," admits Dielle. "Not quite so hick-lookin'. Like it matters out here in the middle of nowhere." Because it's true, after NYC, this is the middle of nowhere. She shrugs a bit, then says, "If you two wanna spar, I can do some archery or watch for a bit."
So, for the moment, Peggy has a rapier and Vorpal's right there in front of her. Dielle's dressed in a t-shirt and leggings, and is holding her bow and practicing her archery. Well, really, they're all chatting more than practicing at the moment.
The door to the parking garage creaks open and Duncan ambles in. Despite the winter weather, he's dressed in a black and gold 'Boston Bruins' t-shirt, blue jeans, and hiking boots. He changes course to head for the group of Harvestmen already present and practicing. The Elemental lifts a hand and offers a wave in greeting, along with a grin. Better late than never?
"I practice with Mister Vorpal all the time," Peggy points out. "It might be nice to spar with someone different for once. If you two don't mind?" She glances between Dielle and Vorpal. Spying Duncan, she bites her bottom lip and raises her hand to wriggle her fingers at him in a somewhat timid wave.
Dielle chin-tips up at Duncan, and grins. "Sure, Peggy. Pick an opponent! Heya, Duncan, how are you doing?" She seems prepared to put up her bow, and grab a sword. Or a stick. Something.
"I certainly don't mind," offers Vorpal, gesturing towards Peggy, indicating she can make her own choice. "Duncan! Welcome!" Vorpal waves in welcome, glancing between he and Dielle. "Which of you two feel closest to Peggy's level in a fight? I could practice with whoever's left?"
"Ma'am," Duncan greets Dielle with a lazy salute. Then he nods to Peggy and Vorpal in turn. The question of who's closest to Peggy's level leaves him looking between Dielle and Peggy, ending with a shrug. "Haven't fought the Captain yet. But I'm easy. Someone pick."
Peggy clears her throat gently. "Well, last time didn't go so well," she murmurs. "But I've gotten a little better since then. Dielle's the one I haven't worked with before, so... Dielle?" She pauses. "You really don't like being called Daisy?"
Dielle nods. "Ok, me and Peggy for now, we can always switch up, assumin' no one else shows up. And I don't mind Daze, or occasionally Daisy. I prefer Dielle or Dee. Call me DaisyLu and I will happily take revenge. Ex-lax in someone's coffee or liquid LSD or somethin'. Ok, not liquid LSD, that's overkill, even for me." She puts her bow up, and goes to get a practice sword. Then something hits her. "Was that a...salute? What the fuck you doin' that for?" She grins as she says it, she's teasing.
"Works for me," Vorpal offers at Dielle's comment, finally claiming a wooden dagger nearly as long as a short sword. He moves back towards the center of the area, gesturing to the cabinet. "Anything in there, friend- nothing in there will actually cause harm. Is that right? No harm? Or is it just gonna be minor damage? How's that work?"
Once the opponents are sorted, Duncan turns to grin at Vorpal. He's avoided looking directly at the high wyrd one so far, but if they're squaring off there's not much choice. The grin turns to a wince as Duncan gets an eyeful, and then he nods and glances aside. "Right." He moves to claim his own weapon, selecting a practice spear. That will do. Then he ambles back toward his opponent, raising the weapon and taking a ready stance. It's a bit of a reach advantage over sword and dagger, and Duncan looks perfectly fine keeping his distance. It's obviously taking an effort of will to even face off with the smiling, scarred being before him, but he manages well enough. "Ready."
"I think it was a salute," Peggy tells Dielle, quite earnestly. Then she smiles, lifting the rapier and backing up some to get a little more space for them to spar. "Ready?"
Dielle whispers to Peggy, "I know. I'm giving him shit because it's fun." Then she raises her practice sword and says, "Let's give it a shot." She's grinning, though, because it's frequently more dangerous to spar with a new person who'll be unpredictable. "Come at me, bro," she quotes. Well, she thinks she's quoting. It's something.
-> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 8 Successes for an exceptional success.
< 1 1 2 2 2 3 4 5 5 6 7 7 8 8 8 8 8 8 9 10 >
==========================-> >> Dexterity + Subterfuge 8-Again << <-
"I... bro?" Peggy repeats, brow crinkling with mild puzzlement. She does not understand that slang yet. Maybe she's managed to not encounter bros or bro culture, lucky girl. But she does, in fact, come at Dielle. Her game's improved since the last time she was here. She's not holding the sword and thwacking at things with it. There's more grace to her form, too.
GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Willpower
-> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 21 Successes for an exceptional success.
< 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 4 4 4 5 5 5 6 6 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 8 8 8 8 8 8 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 10 10 10 10 10 >
==============-> >> Dexterity + Brawl + 1 + 2 8-Again and Rote << <-
Dielle parries Peggy's cut easily, and comes back with one of her own, but she slows it down so Peggy can see what she's doing and how she's moving. She doesn't slow it down MUCH, mind you, it's maybe 3/4 speed, rather than full speed. "The hard thing is not telegraphing your moves and learning to move from your center. Although, one thing you may want to remember is that as a woman, your center of gravity isn't in the same spot as a man's, and if someone tells you to move around your center, that's what they mean."
-> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 7 Successes for an exceptional success.
< 1 2 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 5 5 5 6 6 7 7 8 9 9 9 10 10 10 >
=======================-> >> Dexterity + Brawl + 1 + 2 8-Again << <-
"Okay, so where's my center as opposed to a man's?" Peggy asks, watching Dielle's movements and blade intently. "And how do I stop telegraphing?"
Vorpal lunges forward when Duncan invites him to approach. He's -fast.- Extremely fast, and launches through the distance between them. The approach is very much predictable, and for a spear user, that's a clarion call to take advantage- but the instant before he moves into reach, Vorpal lurches impossibly to the side to come in from an entirely different angle. Duncan's got time to move and react, but as he does, Vorpal slides into range and whips the wooden practice blade in a thrust past the side of Duncan's head, designed to control his movement rather than actually strike and do damage- a clever feint!
"Believe it or not, right about here," and Dielle puts her sword up for a moment to indicate. "About four inches below your belly button...well, four fingers. In other words, your womb." She just KNOWS that's gonna get a blush, but it's true. "I was talking with a woman who was a karate sensei, but she was also a mom. And she said her center of gravity changed after she got pregnant, as the baby got bigger. And changed again after she gave birth. Not that that's a problem for us anymore."
Peggy pauses. Oh, wait. Oh, no. "...It's not?" she inquires, blinking a few times. Shit. She didn't know. "I can't... be a mom?" Her voice is little. She lowers her practice sword.
Dielle lowers her sword and her voice is totally different. She shakes her head, her lips thinning as she presses them together. Then she says, quietly, "Another thing they steal from us. I'm sorry, Peggy, I thought you knew or I wouldn't have dropped that bomb that way. I'm so sorry." She takes a breath and says, quietly, "I plan to adopt, later, assuming I'm not killed first. It's still a viable option. And there's a lot of kids that need people. It's not a consolation, but it is."
Hearing Peggy's comment, Duncan glances aside and belatedly notices Dielle is grinning at him. "You're the Captain," he explains. Then Vorpal lunges at him and it's all he can do to follow his attacker's movements. He expected the wizened to be fast, but expectations have been exceeded. Duncan is no slouch -- if fact a trained eye would note that he's a skilled fighter. But in this case he is completely outmatched, and despite the reach advantage, he's immediately backpedaling to try and keep Vorpal from getting inside the spear. He makes a stab at the quickly closing target, but the spear point finds only empty air.
Peggy's hand comes up to cover her mouth. She blinks rapidly at Dielle. She opens her mouth, as if to speak, but she just kind of makes a weird noise and puts her hand back in place. She stays where she is for several heartbeats. Then her hand comes down again, and she says, swiftly, "Excuse me." Peggy turns and darts away.
GAME: Vorpal rolls dice for: Throwing Defense out for Lunge (+15), +7 from Feint, -3 after the 7 die reduction in defense, +9 from boxing 4.
-> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 33 Successes for an exceptional success.
< 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 >
-> >> Dexterity + Brawl + 1 + 2 - 3 + 7 + 9 + 15 8-Again and Rote << <-===
The strike at empty air seems to be -precisely- what Vorpal was guiding Duncan towards. It's not that it was poorly placed- on almost any other opponent, that blow would have struck home and driven through the solar plexus. Vorpal, though, is just -too fast.- He's IMPOSSIBLY quick, and as the perfectly executed spear thrust impales what would have been his after-image in an animated feature, the God whips back in close, leading with the dagger- and abruptly reversing his stance to bring in his other fist, a wooden "brass" knuckle wrapped around his fingers. It's hard to count how many times Vorpal strikes in the next instant, but it's "a lot"- and enough to throw Duncan completely off his feet and onto the ground a few feet away. He's pretty sure some of those blows hit while he was still mid-air, too.
Vorpal turns- too late- to see Peggy bolting away. His head turns towards Dielle, and he grimaces.
"... That's... shit." He murmurs, Duncan still kept in the corner of his eye.
Knocked down and momentarily stunned, it takes Duncan a second to re-orient. There's a stirring in the air as the Elemental climbs back to his feet, apparently little the worse for wear from the sparring weapon's blows. He looks seriously irked, his eyes narrowed and his hair flowing with the wind around him. "God damn son of a bitch," he curses under his breath. He's about to level his spear and try again when he notices Vorpal is more focused on the fleeing Peggy, and this gives the Elemental a moment's pause. He exhales a long breath but remains where he is, at the ready. "What was that?" he asks Dielle. Apparently he was too busy to overhear their conversation.
Dielle watches Peggy leave and looks upset. "Shit. I really didn't mean for her to hear it the first time in /that/ way." She looks back over and says, "I kinda underestimated how much Peggy knows about bein' Lost. She didn't know we can't have kids." She pauses, and then puts away her sword, saying, "Shit," and it's very heartfelt and guilty.
Vorpal turns on his heel and gestures to Duncan, welcoming him to move in or not, as he likes. He's unhappy. Not with Dielle, or he'd have aimed a comment her way, but he doesn't like being reminded either. "There's no good way to learn that. Better before she starts trying. While she's still trying to build herself up. It'd be worse if she tried to build on that foundation." He glances to Duncan, one corner of his mouth moving up mirthlessly. "I can teach you how to do all of that. Not a bit of it was magical. I know a -lot- of other tricks, too. We just need to find out which ones you want to learn."
"Huh," Duncan says when Dielle explains the issue. "Have to find out sooner or later." Not exactly heartfelt compassion. He notes Vorpal's unspoken offer and smirks, but he declines to charge right back in. That was far too one-sided -- possibly a first for the Elemental -- and he's not going for a repeat without some reflection. "Are you kidding me?" he laughs at the assurance that Vorpal moves were all natural, "no human is that fast." There's grudging acknowledgement as well. "But you did play it perfectly."
"I seem to keep doing it," says Dielle, and she makes a face, but drops the subject. Instead, she leans against a wall to watch Vorpal and Duncan.
It takes Vorpal a moment of consideration before he nods and allows that he's not human-fast. "Still, even if I was slower- HALF this fast- I think I'd be able to do what I did, just less effectively." Granted, "half that fast" is roughly Olympic Athlete fast, but still. "Point is that the techniques are teachable, and I'm glad to teach them. Happy to pledge you into the basics, too- as you learn, that little buffer will grow with you, and let you learn by -knowing-. It's a pretty neat method. Peggy likes it okay." He glances after her, and sighs, looking to Dielle. "... I oughtta go after her. Make sure nothing happens. At her hand or anyone else's."
"Don't sweat that it keeps coming up. It matters enough to you to be on the front of your mind. That's not a flaw," Vorpal reassures.
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