Take a Look Around

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Log Info

  • Title: Take a Look Around
  • Emitter: Aryia
  • Characters: Aryia, Aya, Murder
  • Place: The Colosseum
  • Time: February 17th, 2022
  • Summary: Aryia is giving some pointers to others in the Colosseum while Aya arrives to train. Murder makes a mention that it's a crappy day to train (because it was cold as sin) before they head out. The two sisters converse, Aryia getting a bit emotional as she tries to let Aya understand the trials and tribulations it took to get her back, to implore to focus on oneself, as well as see the ripples of one's actions. Aya listens, still troubled about her current place in life, but its not something that's going to get solved in just a couple of days. They then proceed to do what the two sisters do best: beat the snot out of each other.

The Colosseum, Late Morning.

An overcast day over the arena dedicated to the two gods of battle and strength casts no shadows, instead spilling a chill and a dampness to the air. Though, this didn't abate those that trained for the sport of it, or to sharpen their own skills for more worldly applications.

There's a small ensemble of fighters going through a drill with each other. A light sparring with whatever weapon they use, though a scarred mul'neissa woman walks between them. Stopping at one to adjust an arm, at another to take a fake jab at an opening. Ever since Andelena asked to be trained, more took that as the ice being broken to ask the silent elf for some pointers.

And, to her credit, she kind of liked it. Aryia rests on her back foot with her arms crossed, watching the group as a whole with her lips quirked off to the side. A bit more rested than usual, this time around.

A perfect day for training... even if there is a lack of shadows. The field soon bears yet another trainee, one absent for quite some time. Aya emerges from the entrance, though does not step far infield. Rather than seek a live partner, much less a trainer, she steps to a worn stone column near the seating.

Thus she acquires both device and 'partner,' which she begins utilizing to stretch; an important step so that one does not hurt one's self. Aya spends only a very few minutes at this, however, before she shifts to more active exertion. Namely a few slow, practiced strikes against the stone before they expand into full force strikes.

It wasn't until the impact of fist against stone ringing out for the mute pugilist to take note of someone joining the training field. Aryia glances back, her almost disregarding it until her head whips back for a double take. Holding up a hand for someone about to ask for advice, she quits the training area, boots against sand near silently approaching the training ex-mentor.

Aryia stops a few paces away, glowing gaze watching. Was this was it was like? The hole in her memories ached. As did her emotions. Or, rather, they were dulled at present, due to the sheer amount of back and forth the past... week or so has been.

It is not a wall that Aya is striking, but there is more than a little similarity in the situation to another's past ... 'training.' Left. Right. One. Two. The stone does a poor job of evading, though makes up for this with resilience. This allows her to simply strike more, and increase the effort and pacing. Harder. Faster. If her goal is to chip away at the column, she begins to gain progress. If her goal is to wear down her knuckles, she makes ground on that as well. She does not appear immediately aware of Aryia's approach or presence.

GAME: Murder rolls stealth: (9)+5: 14

From the mists, a pair of glowing red eyes advance. The pace is casual, almost careful, as if someone is attempting to avoid bumping into things or trip over something.

Aryia watches on, feeling like the few paces were leagues in distance between them, and the strikes oh so-not familiar. A sigh leaves her, and she steps up to be astride the fellow mul'neissa.

She's about to make some sort of attention getting sound, but an ear twitches, and she glances over to the mists. She files it away, but instead focuses on Aya and her training.

Another hit to stone. And another. And - then a pause. "Hello, sister," Aya speaks, though doesn't shift her attention from the column. It seems that she was aware, afterall. Whether she is similarly aware of the eyes in the mist remains unknown.

Murder slowly approaches the voices she can hear, and the vague shapes her eyes can make out.

"Ah. Aya. Aryia. Fun day for training, is it not?", she says quietly, glancing around. "Makes for tranquil, if muted, practice. How are you both?"

Aryia gives a little wave from the hip, a faint smile tugging at her lips from being addressed so. There was a veritable plethora of topics she wished to discuss, to share, to question and show.

To show? She could show something. And punching stone is something Aryia was good at. Before she could make good on that, the glowing red approaches and speaks.

There's a sort of awkwardness from the mute, like she had a bunch of words on her hands, yet nothing was said yet. And that was a difficult question to answer. "... good. I think," she hazards a guess with a gesture, unsure, but it felt right. <Handspeech>

After catching the hipwave from her peripheral vision and the approaching gobber speaks, Aya now turns away from the pillar. A nod to Aryia as her hands lower before she looks to Murder. "I am alive." A simple fact with the appropriately bland inflection. Mostly. "Every day is a good day to train."

The Gobbo's eyes squint as she tries to make out the hand movements from Aryia. "I suppose there are worse things than that, yes?" She grins toothily, and nods then to Aya.

"Being alive is good. Kind of basic to being good is being alive. Maybe?" Murder shrugs at the response about training. "I feel that training in adverse conditions is good, but... not every day is a good day to train." She eyes Aryia. "Did you want me to leave you two alone?"

Aryia rests a hand on Aya's shoulder after her answer and gives it a light squeeze. She turns to Murder, trying to return that smile, but it comes out half baked into a tired looking thing. "Some days are best spent resting," she motions slowly in agreement.

The question makes her purse her lips and glance to Aya, consider it for a moment, then slowly shrugs. <Handspeech>

"Some days," Aya finally admits, though she doesn't clarify as to whom. At Aryia's glance and shrug, she gives a small, vaguely dismissive gesture in return. "There is always time for rest, after. There is a demon to destroy, among other things." A pause as she looks to Murder. "Yes, there are worse states than living, but you need not leave."

Murder rubs at her cheek. "Yes, I have experienced a few of those ... states, as you say." She shrugs and sniffs, and glances about, shrugging again. "It's kind of a piss poor day, if you ask me, to train."

The Gobbo reaches out to pat Aryia's arm. "And I know a little of what you have gone through. Don't stay out here too long, you don't want to catch a chill." She winks, and offers a nod, before turning and stalking off into the mists.

Aryia frowns a bit at Aya's answer, but she addresses Murder. "Sort of, just depends on what kind of day you want to have."

She sighs, and clasps Murder's shoulder. "I'll be fine, thanks though," she signs, shifting on her feet some as the fire goblin stalks off into the fog.

Now it was just the two of them.

Fidget. "... you really should be resting..." she gestures to her sister. "There is a demon to kill, but..." she trails off. <Handspeech>

Aya watches Murder stalk off a moment or three before she turns to focus upon Aryia. "Should I? If I sit and do nothing, would matters improve?" A brow arches, then falls as she frowns. "You may be right. Most of the actions I chose made matters far worse."

Between the time of then and now, Aryia has certainly changed. From her attire, her posture, and even her disposition. And while the past Aryia might have folded at the first statement, she doubles down. "I /am/ right," she jabs a finger at Aya, scowling. "Maybe, but what matters is what you do /now/. And you have had your entire existence taken for a fucking marathon. It's okay to just stop and /breathe/, for fuck's sake." <Handspeech>

Aryia is not the only one changed, as she accusing finger and confident certainty causes Aya to... fold? She pauses and exhales with a small nod. "You are right." That was easy...?

Aya's eyes lower. "Was I? Ever?" Lack of doubts or regrets may have had its drawbacks, but the shift from famine to feast is... did they swap roles in that interim?

Aryia's scowl abates some as the one she once held so high in regard was practically brought low to something more of... equal? The dynamics were still hard to figure out, but now... what role were they to each other? If any aside from sororital?

A sigh escapes her. "On some things, yes. You were right," she concedes, reaching out to rest a hand on Aya's arm. "Like... helping me when we first met. And... showing me my worth. And, well, helping push me when I needed it." <Handspeech>

Aya looks up at the words and touch. The combination causes something of a reverse-scowl from her: a faint smile, if brief. "I am glad that I did something right. If anyone deserved that, it is you." Her other hand reaches to path Aryia's hand on her arm. "Perhaps it is justice that you now push me?"

Aryia smiles back lightly, though unlike the others, this one is honest and true. Her fingers curly lightly into the arm. "Thank you."

Her head cants to the side. "Justice? Maybe in some capacity. But that'd be a piss poor excuse for me to push you on that alone."

"I'd rather push you because-"

It comes so easily. So candid.

"-I love you," she gestures with a broadening smile, just a hint of film cresting her glowing gaze. <Handspeech>

Aya clasps Aryia's arm in kind with the hand on the arm already clasped. Her other shifts to that it is ready when, by a tug of the former to pull Aryia to her, she can embrace her with it. Firmly.

"And I love you," she re-affirms with a whisper to the very near ear. A pause for a half-breath before she pushes out, "After Lily, and Daed, I feared..." and that's all she manages at that. She loves... loved(?) them, also, and look where that got them.

All it took was a hug. And three simple words to be returned after months of holding out, waiting, vying for a chance to say them, and hear it back.

The embrace is returned with just as much gusto. "... it was... so. Hard," she hisses back quietly, the verisimilitude confidence shown before cracking easily as the mute starts to tremble. "... I.. I trained so hard... so hard for you..! I-I thought the others would get you, and then... and then the months dragged on with nothing to show, and more and more I wanted you to be okay."

Fingers latch on and into clothes. Breath stuttering and sniffling. "So much had to be done, so much- I had to- and then-"

That's the extent of her cohesion, as the hug becomes crushing, and she quietly sobs in little musing notes, "Don't ever do something so absolutely stupid alone again!" <Celestial/Tongues>

Aya's grip softens and she leans on her sister a moment. She then straightens to look to her. "You were, you are, magnificent." Aya being here, now, is irrefutable proof of that. She then exhales a sight. "What do you suggest? That I risk others with this latest demon?"

Aryia's face is a mess with tears, her sniffling and wiping at her nose with the sleeve of her jacket. She glances to Aya with her brows knitted, her doing her best to stifle a sob coming through. "Everything is a fucking risk," she gestures between them. "I just want you to know you don't have to do things alone. I didn't go alone to stop all those slaves being sacrificed to that asshole. I didn't go alone into those towers. I sure as fuck didn't go alone into the Grey Halls to fetch /your fucking soul/," she jabs a finger into the spot she punched on the other's sternum. "You don't have any do overs, for fuck's sake. You die, you won't be able to meet my parents. You won't be able see Lily again. Or Cryosanthia's eggs. The thing you're risking is YOU." <Handspeech>

Some of this is of no surprise: Yes, everything is a risk. Yes, she would be risking herself. Yes, she is aware of her one-and-done situation. She gives Aryia a brief nod with each.

As for the rest, she blinks. Thrice. Once for each W, T, and F. Aryia did what?! Has what?! Who has eggs?! Her mouth opens, though there is neither inquiry nor retort prepared.

Her sister's dumbfounded expression spurs the mute on further. "Hello! People care about your well-being, Aya! Especially me! Seyardu and Jinks lost a couple decades of their life going to the Halls, I traded some of my memories of you. You have a lot to catch up on, a lot to realize, and a lot of humbling, because it /sounded/ like you were going to go do this demon shit by yourself. Again."

She pulls out of the hug, swivels on a heel, and throws out a speedy haymaker. It connects to the stone pillar and-

A veritable chunk explodes out of it. When was she able to do that? The mute shakes her fist off, then points to her self with both hands. "/I/ want /you/ to live," she motions briskly, getting worked up. "So take a fucking second to stop. Breathe. And focus on yourself before you move onto the next challenge. Alright? Fuck." <Handspeech>

Aya closes her mouth, at last. When could Aryia do that? Aya does not know. However, as was pointed out: 1) she has much to catch up on and 2) Aryia is magnificent. She nods again.

"You are right. Again. As always?" A flicker of brow rise with that last in a possibly redundant inquiry. She then stops to do as directed and breathe. "There is ... much more to worry about."

Directive taken, the mute pugilist steeples her fingers together and takes a breath In for herself.

She relaxes her shoulders. "I'm not always right, but at least now I know what's right for me."

She steps closer, then gestures slow. "There is. But that's the thing, there always has been a lot to worry about. And those worries make all that is you."

"So just... take a moment to look around, instead of looking forward. Okay?"

A breath Out. "Because you'll miss a lot if you don't look at what you're walking by." <Handspeech>

"I ... do not know what is right anymore," Aya admits with a sagging exhale. "What I believed to be was proven not. I do not wish to miss anything." A pause for a breath, again (as previously reminded). "In truth, I preferred myself when there were far fewer worries within."

"As did I. But yet here we are. You've been given a chance to find what is right. For yourself, and for others," Aryia gestures before resting a hand on Aya's shoulder. She smiles. "And I don't mind helping you find that. Guiding light sort of thing. Shit, I still have the fucking candle. Which I need to beat you over the head with." She smirks a bit. <Handspeech>

Aya doesn't frown at that, but doesn't smirk, either. Pursed lips, at worst. "I ... apologize. It was the wrong choice. One life balanced against so many. I was foolish, and I was aware... and yet it felt ... right."

Aryia sighs, and kicks her foot idly in the sand. "Yes. Me and others were ready to help go get her. It may have felt right to you because of how important she is to you. But... You're not alone in your choices. Else me and the others wouldn't have done what we did to get you back."

"Just... yes. You fucked up. Big time. But you've a good heart, I know it. You'll set it straight." <Handspeech>

Aya is silent for a long time following that clear description and evalutation of her efforts, methods, and reasons. She may well be absorbing it to help reform her own self-view of them, given how that internal sense is still rather raw, re-aligned, or rough.

Eventually a firm nod, and confidence returns to her features and tone, along with an accompanying sharply-pointing finger at Aryia. "I will, but not without your aid..." The corner of her lips then rises. "Though you already seem well aware of that."

The finger point is met with crossed arms and a raised brow. "You're absolutely fucking right I am," she motions firmly before faintly smiling. "Besides, who's going to tell you when you're going to fuck up? I'll tell it to you straight, I've dealt with too much shit these past months to sugar coat shit. Now square up. I don't remeber how you fight, and I still need to kick your ass," she thumbs her nose and raises her fists, smirking lightly. <Handspeech>

-End Scene-