logsinthenight | combat training mingle log

Entry tags:

combat training mingle log

characters: everyone
location: the village gymnasium
date/time: every wednesday & friday throughout october
content: at the town hall last month, javert offered to set up a place for combat training. this is him making good on his promise. as he mentioned in his bulletin ad, these sessions are open to absolutely everyone, not just those who want to learn how to fight. partner up with someone and spar. do whatever you want, just don't hurt each other too badly—or javert will have words with you.
warnings: violence

setup

The gym's certainly seen better days, with it's crumbling walls and lost ceiling tiles. Javert doesn't need it to be pretty, though. He only needs it to be functional. In the last week, he's been doing what he can to clean it up, washing the floors and making some minor structural repairs.

Once the first day of combat training begin, the day after the ferry sinks, it's as clean as it possibly can be without any sort of overhaul. There are mats set up along one end of the gym, for people to stretch or otherwise use for sparring, and a collection of swords near the door. Some are blunted and old, perfect for training — though they may still hurt — while others are sharp or unwieldy, and will need to be handled with care. Use them, Javert says, but return them when you are finished.

There's a tiny collection of knives, too, though there aren't any targets to practice throwing them at. It's a work in progress. For light, there's a torch set up along the wall, illuminating the room and allowing combatants to spread themselves out from one another.

meetings

For the sake of not being micromanagey, there isn't going to be any formal structure to these practices. Javert is available to teach hand-to-hand combat and swordsmanship, should anyone wish it. He's also enlisted the aid of Jason Grace, who will teach hand-to-hand and swordsmanship, and Bucky Barnes, who is proficient in knife fighting as well as hand-to-hand combat. Anyone else, of course, may teach others as they please. Just this once, Javert's not going to be a stickler for formalities. He just wants to see everyone making productive use of their time, in some fashion.

Training will run from seven o'clock to nine o'clock in the evening. Arrive promptly, or Javert will berate you for being disruptive. No one is required to come to every single meeting, so come as often or as little as you like. If regular exercise is supposed to help combat the effects of total darkness, why not give it a try?

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You can call it that.

[ She gives the axe a twirl, not showing off so much as just moving so she won't have to hold still. Her blood is up enough to make her antsy, wanting to move and act and react. ]

The elemental spirits lend me their power. It's not a human thing.

Not an Asset thing, either. I definitely can't do that.

[It tosses the sword once in its hand, then does as previously requested and attacks again, this time faster, feinting for her left side shoulder before swinging down at her hip, instead. The metal arm stays up to its left, ready for a counter-attack, and now it's listening to see if she does that muttering thing again. Just in case it can also be used in battle.]

Asset?

[ She knows what the word means, of course. Something that can be leveraged, can be used in a person's favor. But she's never heard of any magic being called that.

But then he's moving again, and the time for questions is over.

Kettara grunts, raising her weapons to turn the blow before it can cleave into her side. Whatever this man is, whatever he means to do, he fights like an orc and she can take comfort in knowing he won't pull blows. Every strike does exactly what he means it to do and if she cannot respond properly, then she will take the full brunt of it. It's a simple thing and she needs some small measure of simplicity now, something she can recognize and control. She goes low this time, aiming for his legs. ]

I am - learning, swords. I can show you the elements. Do you want to see?

[ She often speaks when sparring. Even during battle. The tone is conversational again, though she's grinning and her strikes are just as hard as before. ]

Asset. What I am.

[It drops and rolls to the left, away from her axes blades, rolls back to its feet nimbly and dives back in towards her right with a straight thrust for her side, under the level of her ribs. It is, in fact, prepared to pull back if she doesn't block it or dodge, but it's pretty sure she'll block it or dodge it. She's pretty good.]

Is that something I can learn? Or a gift?

[ Kettara twists, deflecting the blow with one blade and then swinging for her counter. It's a good, hard spar. She's learning. The sword moves differently from an axe, though the range is similar. The position required to hold and turn it is very different, though, and Kettara supposes she will need to wield one herself to truly understand it.

But the fight? That's easy. That's just like home all over again.

She swings up, for his face, and jumps for additional power. ]

I don't know. Do you hear the elements? Do they favor you?

[Catching the counter on the arm, as anticipated, the Soldier flares the plates there to catch at one of those notches in the blade-- then clamps them back down again, aiming to keep the axe stuck between the pieces of metal.]

Don't know.

[Then it ducks under her launch at its face, tugging down on the trapped axe and sweeping out with its leg to try and send her topping to one side while she's mid-air.]

What's that like?

[ That's unexpected. His arm is fully articulate and weaponized by some power she doesn't yet understand. Kettara grunts, though her eyes are bright and wondering, and kicks off from his chest to gain distance.

She claps her hand and throws lightning at him, just to see what he'll do. Will that arm of his conduct it? ]

Connection. I feel the world more.

[Rolling back again and to its feet, suppressing the flinch at the sound of the clap, the Soldier turns back to face her just as time to see the lightning coming. Fuck! It throws up the metal arm between them, which keeps said lightning from frying itself, but it does short out the arm with an evil sounding crackle. It drops like dead weight, pain hitting the nerves that join it to the Soldier's body.

There's a flash of memory, not a full malfunction this time, but enough to make it step back and obviously disengage, sword coming down at its side, while it integrates the sensation. Someone else doing that to the arm before, only with a little round disc thing. Someone with red hair. Who was that.

The Soldier moves again after something like twenty seconds of frowning at nothing, shakes its head vigorously, says,]

That's effective.

[Then it swings its arm in a full circle from its shoulder to reboot it and bring function back online.]

And I don't think I've ever felt a connection to anything.

[ It's not the reaction she expects. The arm reacts like a mechanical thing, something that does indeed conduct electricity and cannot immediately compensate for the sudden abundance.

The man is another matter all together. He just - goes away.

Kettara tips her head to the side and doesn't attack. ]

Not even to your body?

[ There's something she's missing, some context that would make this moment fall in line with the logic she knows. ]

Did I hurt you? I wasn't trying to.

The arm doesn't seem damaged.

[It might need a little maintenance, and probably another reboot later before class starts, but it's had much worse. The Soldier looks up, expression vaguely embarrassed, forgetting about her question about the elemental connection-- or perhaps having missed it during its momentary blank-out.]

Sorry, memory malfunction. Just a little one. I remembered someone else doing that, shorting out the arm.

[Embarrassment fades into mild annoyance. That's twice now-- at least twice. Probably more.]

I need to find a way to defend against that.

[Because not getting its arm temporarily shorted out while in battle is obviously more important than completely missing everything going on around it for half a minute. Right?]

[ That sounds mechanical, an area largely beyond Kettara's purview. She knows about engineering and mechanics, of course, and has even seen the warriors posed atop Ogrimmar's gates with their long guns, but that's always been something other people concerned themselves with. Her training followed a different path, with different concerns.

Still, the man is clearly hurt. ]

A memory...malfunction?

[ She had assumed the prosthetic would be insulated against such an obvious weakness, but the man had reacted with surprise to the lighting and asked probing questions about the rest. Perhaps such gifts are unknown in his world and there is no need to protect against such things.

It occurs to Kettara then that she didn't ask his name.

She clears her throat, setting her weapons aside. ]

I'm sorry. I didn't introduce myself. My name is Kettara. I can take a look, if it's hurting you.

[ She's not a great healer, but she can ease pain. That's worth something. ]

Nice to meet you, Kettara. You can look, but unless you know anything about high-tech prosthetic weapons, I don't think it will do much. The rest of me is fine.

[The plates on the arm ripple up and down, recalibrating. It helps with the remaining sting, and also gives Kettara something to look at if she wants to. Also, it doesn't give a name back. Maybe if she specifically asks for one.]

It isn't important. Memories just come back suddenly sometimes, when they're not supposed to. It's distracting.

[ She moves in for a closer look, trying to figure out how the arm is attached. It's hard to tell just from looking. Perhaps anchored into the flesh of his shoulder? It would have to be held securely to counter the weight. Would scar tissue be an issue, limiting his range of motion? It didn't appear so when they fought. And the individual pieces seem to move on their own. Like a bird ruffling its feathers, she thinks.

Such a strange thing.

She reaches out to touch his arm, but stops herself. She gives him a long, thoughtful look. ]

You smell human.

[ He claimed not to be. ]

Did this body belong to someone else, before it came to you?

[ It's a guess. He moves and acts like the stories she's heard of the first Death Knights, from the old world. Given bodies and abilities that were not theirs through evil magics and raised to serve the demons. Another great shame her ancestors had to bear, and that has since passed onto Kettara's generation. ]

[Technically, the arm is anchored all along its ribs and spine, so there's a lot more metal-smell than just the arm itself. But yeah, the flesh parts smell mostly human. Up close, if her sense of smell is particularly keen, she might make out something slightly other-- like the arm, kind of alien and synthetic, but powerful. There's supersoldier serum in those veins.]

I don't know. I don't remember much from before my last mission. Just flashes and impressions, skills and protocols. Nothing. Personal.

[It shrugs, runs another calibration loop along the arm. That's not a theory it's had yet. It's gonna need to think about that. For now, all it can do is frown a little and admit,]

It could be possible.

[ How strange. Kettara frowns, trying to make sense of it. They don't come from the same place and the rules surrounding magic and power are therefore quite different. But perhaps there might be some overlap, some way for her to understand this man. Part of her thinks death knight, but he doesn't shine with magic and regardless of anything else, he is breathing. But there are other, stranger powers floating among the worlds and so much she doesn't know. Some of those powers are already at work in Beacon, bringing all these people together. ]

Protocols?

[ It's said more to herself than to him. Another mechanical sounding thing. Maybe a tic of his home, something that doesn't quite translate over to her understanding. Maybe not. ]

It could be something similar. I've heard of such things, but the bodies are dead, in all the ways that matter. You breathe, you sweat. You probably bleed.

[ He's too alive to be a death knight. Bodies can be created and souls pushed into them, of course, but Kettara has never heard of doing that to a living thing. Or at least she's never heard of it working. ]

Do you have a name?

[ The last part is asked somewhat abruptly. She's offered her own, though belatedly, and this is a very strange conversation. This man - human-smelling but also not - acts in ways she doesn't understand, and Kettara isn't quite sure how to keep up with that. She preferred fighting him, to be honest, but the potential answers are worth asking the questions, even if it makes her feel uneasy and off balance to do so. ]

I definitely bleed.

[That comes out a bit dry. The Soldier can't quite help it. The theory is interesting, if alien, and might explain the chatty guy in the back of its head. Not like anything it's ever heard of being possible, but given it's own experiences that honestly doesn't mean much.

It shifts awkwardly from foot to foot at her question, but answers truthfully, since she asked so bluntly. Harder to omit the truth when the question is do you have a name, not what is your name. It doesn't help that she doesn't seem comfortable with any of this, either, but not being human, the Soldier has a harder time reading her than most.]

No. You can call me Soldat if you need something, though.

Soldat.

[ No titles, just the name. It's not one that she recognizes, but that's to be expected. No one comes from her world.

Kettara nods. ]

I'm not a mage. I can't build things like them. But —

[ She hesitates, then squares her shoulders. Part of her thinks she ought to avoid this. It's a complicated matter, blending theories of magic and power from two worlds that do not agree with each other. And, furthermore, she does not understand Soldat. His words are simple enough, but they come layered with a context that Kettara does not understand. She has no way of measuring his sense of honor against her own, or knowing where he would come out in that equation.

Still. Master Muln would have tried, so she will try. It's important to understand as much as possible, so the shape of the surrounding world will make sense. ]

I can heal, a little. If I tried that, I could see if I felt any magic. If your limbs were attached that way, maybe, or your heart restarted. Things like that.

[The Soldier is... curious. And nervous. (But seriously, what else is new.) But curious. As it's very used to doing things despite being afraid of them, after only a moment of hesitation, staring at her shoulder with an expression of contemplation, it nods.

Nothing more than that, just a nod. But that's permission, right? Give it a go, Kettara.

She'll find that none of what ever happened to the Soldier was magic, exactly, but the heart has absolutely been restarted before (multiple times, in fact), the metal arm is some kind of extremely advanced technology that might look a little like magic, and there's something very strange in its blood that seems made up of a whole mess of things. Possibly including magic? Maybe?]

[ Well, all right then. She steps forward and puts a hand on his flesh and blood shoulder, frowning.

After a moment, her hand pulses with magic. It feels cool, like stepping into a lake, but not unpleasantly so. Kettara was never a great healer, but she knows enough to send her magic searching, to find where the nerves connect and the veins flow and search out what makes the body power. Her teacher called it the Spirit of Life, the thing that powers all living creatures, but there is always more in the world; greater power, greater corruption.

In the areas where there is pain, she increases blood flow and encourages the body to begin healing. At the very least, she can ease some of the strain.

Kettara is quiet for a long time, concentrating. After a while, she pulls her hand back. ]

There is something in you that has changed your body, but it's not magic, or at least not a kind I know. Your heart has stopped and been restarted several times. I do not think this body was taken from another, or created out of nothing. You are not a Death Knight, for what it's worth.

I'm sorry. I'm not a healer. I can't tell you much more.

That's more than I knew before. And it's good to have confirmation that I have died before.

[The impression had always been there, a knowledge without any memories to back it up and a certainty of what the protocol was should it die on a mission, but impressions don't have to be truth. The fact that she'd said as much without prompting suggests truth. The Soldier steps back once, resisting the urge to rub at its shoulder where she touched. Standing still for so long while being touched, even with two layers of clothing in the way, had taken discipline and focus, and now it kind of wants to just shake all over to rid itself of the cool feeling that had come with it. Very strange.

The had been pain, all along it's back and left side, from the anchors for the arm continually tearing at flesh and muscle, but now that's actually... easing? That's weird. Probably won't last long, as the next time it uses the metal arm for anything will tear things up again, but it feels kind of nice, now. It doesn't take a genius to guess that came from her.]

Thank you. Do you feel more comfortable now?

[ Kettara blinks, not sure what to make of the question. ]

Why would my comfort matter here?

[Because it makes the Soldier fucking nervous when people around it are uncomfortable. Can't say that, though, so it shrugs.]

You have to work in here. Learn things. You should be comfortable. Or at least not thinking that I'm whatever that thing is that you don't like.

[Unless it's reading her wrong and she isn't against the... death knight things? Also possible.]

[ That's a strange way to approach training, Kettara thinks, and not one she expected from this place. It's kind, even. She gives one of her braids an absent tug, watching him. Finally she shrugs. ]

I don't understand you. But I don't understand most people here. There's no one in Beacon like me.

[ It's said frankly, though without malice. She's an orc and most people here are human, or at least think like humans. She's not entirely sure where Soldat fits in that system. ]

Death Knights had no choice. It was done to them. Some of them were honorable, once they regained their minds. Some were not. But the power that made them was evil, and dishonorable. It was intended to break the world. I don't want to see that here.

It's all right. I don't understand a lot of people, either. You don't have to. Everyone here seems pretty forgiving about it.

[And you know, if the Soldier allowed itself any more self-awareness of its past and how it got to its current state, it would be wincing at that description. Because hey, leave out the magic, and that's literally its life, right down to the people who did it wanting to break (or, well, take over) the world.]

I don't, either, then. We already have one world-ending power here to worry about.

For now.

[ Most of them are human, and Kettara cannot shake the nagging fear that she will be betrayed, that one day these people will realize that she is not like them in some fundamental, unchangeable way, and kill her for it. ]

Hnn. Yes. I suppose it's better to know, one way or another.

[ She eyes him for a long moment. ]

I'm not a healer. But I can encourage the blood flow where your arm is connected, if it starts hurting again.

[ Better to have allies than enemies, in the endl. ]

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