YAY VIOLENCE WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES [OPEN]

[inthirds]

WHO: Zelgadis and others just get in here ok
WHERE: A vacant lot all groomed and abused for sword&sorcery practice
WHEN: Next week...pick a day
WARNINGS: Idk yet
SUMMARY: Magic and swords and spars and spectators and whatever else happens happens ok? ok
FORMAT: No (whatever you want)

Comments

we don't need no stinkin timelines

[speedofnaked]

It wasn't hard to figure out where Zel was going every day. It was so inadvertently obvious, it never needed to be stated. And that was fine with Terra; it left her to follow her own habits in the meantime, catching up on a City that hod not stopped moving, growing, changing in their absence.

But for all that needed to be done, it didn't mean she couldn't drop in on the person she saw most frequently. She popped into that familiar lot with a practiced warp, landing seated atop one of the still-standing but much abused earthen pillars of Zelgadis's own creation.

The heels of her boots clunked dully against rock, but she made no overtures of greeting to catch his attention. She was content enough to watch, for the moment.

never

[inthirds]

He was determined to not break this sword. It was a different length and style for him compared to his long-dead one - thicker, too - but still in danger of chipping or shattering if he forgot to go easy on it. Which was as satisfying as it was annoying; exterior complaints aside, he enjoyed his strength, but having to be so mindful of it made it a bit of a headache.

So when Terra warped in, he was holding the sword up and at an angle, squinting at it with a scowl that reflected off the metal as he turned it, checking for nicks or chips from the work he'd done. For lack of sparring partners at the time, he took to the stone he could conjure, and it was already lying in a heap of rubble -- cleanly sliced, more than some of it.

He didn't even need to see her reflected back; he'd heard her with those sharp ears. Blinking, he turned around to have a better look, instantly relieved (gawking strangers was always weird).

"Terra."

[speedofnaked]

"Zelgadis."

It was hard to see her smile at that distance, but it pulled at her cheeks and pressed into her eyes all the same. Her hands were braced on the pillar, legs crossed at the ankle, and she made no immediate moves to leap down.

[inthirds]

His head tilted as he looked at her, squinting. It was hard to see her face precisely, to be sure, so he stopped his inspection (well, one of them) and strode over, propping the sword on his shoulder. He smirked when the look on her face registered.

"What has you in a good mood?"

this happens on....a day....sometime.

[screwmeister]

On this occasion Stein did the stumbling upon--Zelgadis was already practicing when he wandered past.

It was enough to prompt him to stop and watch, wearing that passive smile of his. How wonderfully creepy.

once upon a dream

[inthirds]

Was it just deja vu he felt? That...that eerie tingle that suddenly shot up his spine mid-swing. He wasn't as subject to the weather as he once was, but even if it was...it was summer. Why the chill?

Why, indeed. He threw extra power into the last swing, enough to allow himself to forcibly turn on his heel.

And lo.

The scowl was instantaneous.

Him again. He was still around? Why?

[screwmeister]

To torment Zelgadis, of course. Stein's true purpose in life was to mystify and horrify teenagers everywhere.

"Hi," he said pleasantly, raising one hand in a wave. "Looks like we meet again."

[inthirds]

"Unfortunately," he grumbled, driving his sword into the dirt, hands on the pommel. "What the hell do you want this time?"

just to be different, an actual day/time: Monday evening

[liondormant]

Squall had come by the vacant lot several times since he'd first met Terra there for a spar; it was as good a place as any, and better than most, to do a little training, and if he had no real purpose in it beyond distracting himself from thinking too much, at least it was a way of keeping in shape in the absence of a proper training center.

It hadn't actually occurred to him that someone other than Terra might use it for the same purpose.

Which left him standing on the edge of the lot with his gunblade at his side, a little disgruntled to find the lot already in use. Oh. This guy.

you are a rebel following tha rules

[inthirds]

Fireball was easy to remember, too senselessly destructive to fire off without purpose. He used Astral Vine more than enough to warrant that one safe to set aside for an afternoon...But it was the smaller things, the less bombastic spells, that saw less and less action in the City and needed refreshing. Aqua create was...well, just making water, but the value of it was definitely apparent, especially if he ever thought of traveling west again.

The water was levitating above his hand, fairly formless despite the guiding whims of his fingers when his ears picked up the sound of footsteps and the clink of excessive accessories.

It only took a few seconds to recognize that distinctive weapon; the face was only secondary. He tried to keep from scowling.

Oh.

That guy...

[liondormant]

There was no real reason for Squall to feel like his space had been invaded. It wasn't his space to begin with; if it was anyone's, as far as he knew, it was Terra's. But he hadn't run into anyone else there while Terra (and Zel) had been out of the City, and it had started to become a part of his routine.

Which was now being interrupted. It left him feeling unreasonably possessive - which was stupid, and knowing it was that much more irritating.

"Hey," he said tersely.

[inthirds]

His space. Actually, he couldn't remember exactly who had pointed it out first at all, but it had been part of his on-again off-again routine for several months, well since (and possibly before; he forgot) he had only been kind of cursed. The calendar of City choice wasn't the one he'd been raised to know, so that kind of tracking went up in the air.

But anyway. This guy. This guy - the one he had only known by name until he was suddenly just there on that impromptu investigation. What was it again? Squall? The guy Terra knew - or...should have known. The one that may or may not've been trouble because of it.

Yeah. He wasn't too thrilled about this.

With a turn of his hand, the water spilled to the ground, forgotten.

"You're still around," he observed, skipping the greeting. "It's been a while."

Tuesday afternoon?

[batghoul]

Cass had just gotten back from vacation a few days ago, and after a week of not really doing much training, she was eager to get back into the swing of things. And the offer to practice her swordfighting was too good to refuse.

So there she was, walking into the empty lot, a bit more tanned than before she left and carrying her sheathed sword at her side.

access granted!

[inthirds]

And there he was, sitting with his back to one of his magically-makeshift rock spires and a worn-out notebook in his lap, mumbling something to himself without much regard for the world around him--

Until the scrape of feet on gravel and dirt hit his ears and lifted his head. He blinked, taking a second to actually realize who it was on their way over, but realization hit a lot faster than it used to -- with proper name recollection and everything.

"Cass." His tone was a bit surprised, but definitely not in a bad sense. He hadn't expected to see her that day. "Hey."

[batghoul]

"Hi," she said with a smile and a small wave. She'd seen him training in the spot on the way to the dojo the day before, and it seemed like he could use a partner. And she could use the exercise to work off all that vacation buffet food.

"Spar?" she asked, lifting up the sword he'd given her and tipping it toward him slightly.

[inthirds]

He smirked a little. She really didn't waste any time, did she? But he wasn't bothered. Better to set aside the pointless pleasantries he stunk at tossing around anyway.

"Yeah, alright." It'd be a great deal more interesting than cutting up rocks by himself, that was certain. He flipped the notebook closed, stuffing it into a cloth bag he'd brought with him and stashing it on the side opposite, out of the way. He got up, lifting the longsword up off the side of the rock it'd been propped up on and pulled it out of its sheath. What would've taken him two arms and a great deal more concentration needed only one hand, lightly gripping it and letting it scrape the ground as he stretched in place.

"Anytime," he said, giving her a little nod.