Throwing Hands

Log Info

• Title: Throwing Hands
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Verna
• Place: Mountain Road
• Time: January 28th, 2022
• Summary: Upon the Mountain Road in a fresh quarry, Verna finds Aryia punching boulders. Literally. Smashing them slowly into smaller chunks. It's for training, she implores, needing to get stronger after seeing how a supposed copy of her sister fought. Verna brings up that she has a plan to find her sister, speaking of delving once more into memories that aren't her own. Aryia disagrees with that idea, thinking that another delve may be the last. They go back and forth on the topic before Aryia's emotions boil over, and she's throwing signs in a heated manner. Though, through such blunt truth, Verna sees reason, and accepts such wisdom. Then Verna goes and jumps off a cliff. She's fine. Magic, you know?

Mountain Road, Sunset.

Ever present is the traffic on the Mountain Road. Though, on this evening, there is an offshoot that is closed for construction. The magical kind, expansion for a platform dug into the mountainside. Right now, nothing is truly developed for it if one were to peer in, as it looks like a barely dug quarry upon a passing glance.

There's the sound of breaking and crumbling rock. Miners staying overlong to get some work done, perhaps. Though, a keen ear would catch nary a sound of a pick chipping away at stone.

Indeed, this stretch is oft heavily travelled during the day, due to its status as the path between the airstation and the nobility district, not to mention the markets below. As well, there also stands the black basalt of the temple. It is from the steps of the last that Verna reaches the road. Another span of duties ended, perhaps.

The stretch of road... or, rather, the mountainside face beyond it, is of some specific interest to her. In addition, her ears are more keen (and pointed) than some others'. The noises of work upon the stone draw her interest further and she approaches the worksite with curiosity.

Stepping past a the 'under construction' sign (who heeds those anyways?) would show a number of hard rock boulders that have been carved out of the mountain side, ready to be broken down into smaller pieces. Though, it seems as if someone has already gotten to work.

Back to the entrance is a familiar scarred mul'neissa woman. Her green jacket is tied around her waist, a tank top drenched in sweat as her arms gleam of the stuff. Tape is wrapped tight around her fists, and steam rises off her exposed skin. She chugs a waterskin in full, wiping her lips off with the back of a hand before tossing it over her shoulder to join a growing pile.

She rolls her shoulders, cracks her neck, and resumes her work, getting into a rhythm. Each hit is met with a small microburst of bright light, and the area around her is illuminated from her shining fists.

Every few blows to the stone causes it to crack and splinter formidably. She doesn't note Verna's arrival.

Verna is quick to note the scarred full-blood. Intriguing. Practice and professional benefit simultaneously? Most efficient. She does not immediately interrupt, closing only enough to be in comfortably audible. The Mourner awaits Aryia to reach a pause in her efforts before speaking up. "Good eve. Your skills appear quite useful in ways I did not expect."

It's a couple of minutes before Aryia lets out a heavy heave of a sigh, her having caved in a sizable hole into a boulder. Her arms hang to the side, her panting in fatigue before tightening up the tape on her hands, some bruising apparent in her knees and hands.

She's about to launch into another repititon, but the voice makes her halt fast. Then, she relaxes, turning slightly to look over her shoulder. "Hey," she waves. A glance to the broken boulders, and she shrugs a shoulder. "I guess. I should be getting paid for this. Not supposed to be here. How are you?"

She shifts a bit to the side of the boulder to see Verna, and she resumes hitting flesh against rock. Though, with more pauses to catch words. <Handspeech>

"If you are aiding their work, it would be appropriate," Verna concures. "Yet as you are not, they may not approve of the trespass." Not that she is blameless, herself. "Do you know what their goal is, here? It seems an unusual location to mine stone, though not inappropriate."

Aryia gets a few more jabs into the stone face before an uppercut sends a spray of rock upwards and out. The dust sticks to her. A light chuff leaves her. "What are they going to do, arrest me?" she poises, chuckling a bit breathlessly. "I don't know. I needed to punch rocks. I found some rocks. Need to train harder."

"How's your face?" she inquires before resuming her mineral onslaught. <Handspeech>

Verna observes her for a few more strikes before commenting, "No, I do not believe they would arrest you. My face was healed without much effort. I was not inclined to return to Aura with blackened eyes." Perhaps to no surprise.

After another pause, she adds, "-Do- you need to train harder? There is a point where it is counter-productive. Not to mention that there are other activities worthy of your time."

Aryia snorts. "Not a bad idea," she motions in between a cross to an elbow. The pugilist jams a low cross into what would be someone's lower ribs into the rock, and another section of it crumbles and clatters to the side. She spits the dust out of her mouth before looking to Verna with a raised brow. "I do. That... /thing/ wasn't my sister. But it was some copy of her. I... I didn't know she could move that fast."

She huffs, and rolls her shoulders. "So I have to push myself. Though, it sounds like you have a suggestion." <Handspeech>

"It was not her," Verna nods as she affirms this, "yet it was a copy of a sort. A lesser version, perhaps, yet still rather powerful. That is the second I have encountered in a rather short time, which raises the concerning possibility: there could be several or they continue to be produced." Not a pleasant thought.

She falls silent for a few breaths before she nods once more. "I only advise that you not focus to the point that you lose sight of other aspects which you value. You parents and Violet, as examples."

Aryia frowns. A lesser version? Shit. "That only tells me I have to train harder to be ready if I have to face the real her," she signs, sighing through her nose. "Probably both, to be honest. I just don't know where the fuck the real her is. I think the bodies retain some memories, or maybe the host controls them. Because that fraud signed 'sister' to me. I... have a vague feeling that she actually got us in on purpose to do that."

The mute ceases her assault on the poor stone and rests on her back foot. "... your wisdom is appreciated. But I haven't neglected them. I just... had to change my training routine up." <Handspeech>

Verna's lips purse. "I noted the sign." She simply chose not to comment on it at the time. "I believe it more likely they hold some shadows of memories, rather than direct control by the original. Even so, you confirmed that what they hold is only her body and not her true self. I agree that she must be located, and retrieved from them. A possible army of simulacra is untenable, and I intend to do my utmost to locate her."

Aryia pinches the bridge of her nose, kicking a stray pebble under her foot. "Fair point. The real issue is twofold. She's apparently moving everywhere across that country. I don't know if its the copies fucking up the spell, or if she's just moving around that fast, that much. First issue is figuring out something to lure the true her out. The second is, well, getting her to stay still. You saw how fast she moved. In a blink. I don't know what else she can do."

She draws a deep breath, and slowly exhales Out. "If I'm to hazard a guess, she's probably just as hard to hit as me. So... locking her down is going to be a bitch and a half."

Then, a thought. "Did you remove the memories yet? Getting a little fatigued speaking vaguely." <Handspeech>

"I did not, yet," Verna answers the inquiry, first. "It is likely that he knew the agenda, itinerary. Whether it is the simulacra or mobility interfering with the scrying or discernment, the memories may be the solution. We could determine her true whereabouts or where she shall be at a given time. Indeed, limiting her mobility is a priority, but first she must be located."

Aryia squints, frowning. "... going to be honest. You were pretty close to slipping away back then. I don't doubt your abilities, but..." she trails a hand off, her expression firming some. "I fear doing once more delve will no go well." <Handspeech>

Verna exhales a breath and nods. "It was ... strenuous and difficult. I have concerns. Still, I am inclined to make the attempt. To risk others, to leave a friend in need, simply to spare myself discomfort... Would you not consider that proper? Or rather selfishness? Cowardice?"

Aryia's expression is flat. "When we said we're done last time after you proposed your idea to Auranar, you did it anyways and didn't listen. I had to slap the sense back into you," she bluntly points out. "I consider it a fucking stupid move. It's tempting, but... come on. When have you cared about cowardice? We almost lost you to it all." <Handspeech>

Verna is silent in the wake of that, though promptly breaks it. Not in a literal sense as her hands lift to make her response. "It is -you- I care for. Yourself and Aura," Verna's gestures are more rapid and firm than her norm, whether from energy or accentuation. "I sought to aid her, I seek to aid you. That is what I wish..."

The surge falters and hands hesitate as she frowns behind them. A delay before she continues, now with less force and less certainty. "I am uncertain whether I helped her or harmed her. I- what would you have me do? Tell me."

Aryia's jaw tenses as the signs point to the mute woman more often than not. There's a rising emotion behind those blazing eyes, lips ticking in quarter formed words. She's got them. She knows what she wants to say.

Her hands rise. Then fall. Then rise again. Then fall. She mouths something or another to herself in her native tongue, grinding her teeth before-

She pivots on the spot, whips a fist out, and crashes it into the boulder behind her. It splinters, cracks, then crumbles into two halves.

"For fuck's SAKE Verna! -I- care about -you- too!" she gestures widely, using both hands to point to herself then to Verna. "And -I- don't want someone I fucking care about to be lost this dipshit that should STAY. DEAD! I don't want a fucking trade of someone close to me for someone else. Can't you fucking /see/ that?" <Handspeech>

Verna is aware that Aryia is rather quick with her words, regardless of whether they might be repeatable in polite company. Perhaps, in this case, she is expectant or welcoming of that fact. The former more than the latter. Thus she is somewhat surprised by the hesitation, and startled by the turn to ... yell... at the boulder.

When the reply to her does come, does understand the delay. Enough that her own is not so delayed, and now flows more steady and typical. "I do not propose an exchange, nor do I seek one, yet I do not wish to stand idly by. There must be some compromise we can attain." Logic and rationality confirm a return to the more typical. "Should a few slaps or bruises be the cost, there is no shortage of ice present." That still qualifies as logic, yes?

She then exhales a long breath. "Admittedly, I must confer with Auranar as well. I did assure her that I would do so no more, and I would not break that vow."

Aryia curls her fists as she sees the gestures unfold before her. An eye twitches.

"That's not the fucking point!" <Handspeech>

"Th-t's n-t th- f-ck-ng p-nt!"

Shade flies off her hands at the brisk motions, eyes dimming some. "I fear next time you do this, I'm going to have to cave your skull in! And this /fucker/ is tempting you with this! We can find my sister some other way, or by finding a pattern or something. Maybe the kid we found can tell us more. Shit, he's an oracle, yes? He probably knows all sorts of shit."

More shade flings, dripping from her arms. And then. She stops. Puts her hands up.

And just breathes.

The shade ceases its flow as she signs in a much more calm manner. "There are other avenues. Be rid of this thing in your head so we can do some actual fucking work so you'll stop being a liability to those you care about. Does that make more sense to you?" <Handspeech>

Ah, there she is. No hesitation, and no shortage of expletive gestures. The Aryia that all have come to know and love. Verna is silent and listents through the infliction of blunt force wisdom.

As it is, and is another aspect of Aryia that she has come to appreciate, even rely upon. Afterall, she is not wrong, whether dripping shade or flicking light. In the end, Verna simply nods.

"Yes, I understand, and, no, I do not wish to be a liability to others. Certainly not to you, or her." She pauses and nods a second time. "He works to manipulate us even now, as he sought to. My apologies, and my thanks."

Aryia puts her hands together, her breathing steady and controlled. In. Out.

She claps her hands once, as if she was resetting herself. "Right."

Resumed shining gaze settling on her friend. She reaches out, putting a hand on Verna's shoulder and giving a light smile. "You're welcome. You're a wonderful person, and I am very glad you are my friend. But for fuck's sake, go for a second opinion more often, yes?" <Handspeech>

Another nod, if a light one. Then comes a curl at Verna's lips before they part. "I did do so, if not so efficiently as I might have. I shall do so again, and as you say." A gloved hand lifts to pat affectionately at the hand upon her shoulder. "Your opinion holds wisdom and weight, both."

Her eyes shift from and past Aryia to the edge of the precipice, and beyond, as a thought strikes. "Though you also speak of leaping off the mountain." The relevence of their location obviously comes to mind before she takes a step or three towards the edge. "Have you already done so?"

Aryia smiles more, her retracting her hand. "Good. And I'm glad."

she tilts her head to the side, her following after Verna once she picks up her discarded waterskins. She shoves them into her bag before signing. "Not yet. But I've fallen from roughly forty flights or so before. Boots kept me safe. I could probably do it again and not fracture anything. But it'll jar me for sure. Why do you ask?" <Handspeech>

"The same cause for most questions," Verna notes flatly. "Curiosity." She looks back to Aryia for her comments as she steps further. Halting at the edge, she takes a moment to look down at the district below. "That does appear quite a .. jarring distance. I am uncertain that I understand the attraction. Still, there is much to be said of your wisdom... Good eve to you."

She turns to give Aryia a pointed glance back (and was that a wink?) before abruptly stepping off into open air. Not surprisingly, she immediately plummets.

For perhaps ten feet before she slows to a mild, not quite floating descent. Magic.

Alternatively, in Aryia parlance, 'fucking magic.'

Aryia squints at her, a smirk appearing on her lips. "It's fun," she promises with a gesture. Then, a jarring action, her friend steps off. The mute steps forward to reach out.

But Verna is safely floating down.

The pugilist, hands on her hips, sputters her lips.

"F-ck-ng m-g-c."

-End Scene-