Anastasiya and EvanEdit
Anastasiya: She's sat on a bench right near the Forum, really wishing her cellphone could be safely used here at Camp Jupiter. Having not seen Alessandra in a while, she was particularly bored, and seriously considering finding the vodka right now and getting absolutely drunk. It wouldn't be a terrible idea, but as the centurion of the First Cohort and the Greeks coming later, it was probably best not if she didn't want to be disqualified. "Ебать!"
Evan: Evan walks back from training, Deliverance slung across his shoulders. It's a hot day and the Third Cohort barracks are far away from the forum. He decides to take a break and sits on a nearby bench. The son of Lucina straightens out the bowstring around his shoulders and checks that the weapon is hung properly. He wipes a few drops of sweat off his brow, which land on the ground in front of him. He hears a garbled mass of words, being yelled across the forum. He decides to investigate and speaks to Anastaysia. "Are you well miss?" He asks, awkwardly clearing out his throat.
Anastasiya: "Yeah, I'm okay," she answers a little shorter than she should have, but refrained from apologising. Why should she? Unable to find a reason to, she didn't - just sat there, trying to put a name to the face.
Evan: Evan flushed and looked to the ground, where his footsteps were marked in the gravel path. He leant forwards and pressed his elbows on his knees whilst he took respite. "It's a hot day isn't it?" He sighed. The weather in California was warmer than the mild summers on Ogygia or the harsh weather back in England.'
Anastasiya: She nods. "It's much cooler back in Russia," she answers, flipping her hair over one shoulder, nonchalant. Where you from? she asked, at least slightly curious. "It's too hot in f*cking California - it's for the Apollo kids or something. F*cking favouritism.
Evan: He nods awkwardly and shrugs his shoulders. "Aye. It's not that bad. Come rain or shine, I don't really mind. I'd take warmth over a cold winter any day." He says, reminiscing about the long winters he spent as a child, huddled with his step-mother while she told stories beside the hearth. "I've never spoken to a girl from Muscovy beforehand. I haven't been to the New World either before I ended up here." He admits and nods out of politeness, keeping his ingrained sense of chivalry. He extends a broad hand to shake. "I am Evan by the way. Fifth Cohort. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance miss."
Anastasiya: She nods. "I suppose not everyone is used to the harsh winter like me." She looks a little distant, sighing as she remembered all the fighting that had gone on in the snow, and then the incident. She shook her head to clear the memories from it, in her distraction forgetting to use English. "Приятно встретиться с вами также. Я Анастасия, первой когорты."
Evan: "I've suffered through many past winters in my lifetime. It was difficult to have to kill the animals, salt our meat, cut enough firewood to cook and keep ourselves warm but nothing compares to the warm winter stove or sweetmeats for Christmas." Evan reminisces. His lips lift into a small smile, and the son of Lucina drifts off until he hears the garbled mass of Russian, sticking out like a rusted sword in the snow. "Sorry. I don't understand Muscovite."
Anastasiya: "Oh!" She says when she realised she'd used Russian. "I meant - Nice to meet you also, I'm Anastasiya. First Cohort. Oh, and a Mars child - my dad's pretty cool to be honest." She thinks about what it would be like to meet her dad, smiling at the thought, but then remembering how unlikely that was, she comes back down to earth.
Evan: "Then it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Anastasiya." Evan smiles softly. He bows his head in respect for the lady, thinking a little on his mother. His eyes flicker down to the tattoo on his wrist, a woman, two arms raised aloft towards the light. He wasn't sure what to think about her. Whenever he thought of her, his mind flickered to the same marble statue, the same pair of lifeless hands and lips upon his warm skin.
Anastasiya: For a moment, she considered checking if he was alright, but he didn't seem disturbed, although she did find the formalities a little strange. She wonders what it would be like to see the world for a moment. Move away from here. Images of places she'd wanted to go filled her head.
Evan: The young man looks away for a moment. He curses internally at his lack of understanding, as people seemed to be much less formal than they were in his time. He sighs and rests his hands on his knees. "Did I say anything wrong M...Anastasiya?" Evan asks honestly. "I 'ent been in America for a long time and things were a lot different before I came to camp. Sometimes I get things wrong." He admits.
Anastasiya: She shook her head. "Nah, it's fine. I'm just not used to the formality, that's all. Although, saying that, we're very polite in Russia, but I've been in America a couple years now. An escape from Russian superstition. really. Apparently the Americans don't believe in 'em, so I try not to either."
Evan: "I'll do my best to keep that in mind." He chuckles and shrugs his shoulders in nonchalance. "It's different wherever we go. Before I came to camp, I had no clue that California even existed." He shook his head. "It was pretty embarrassing actually. But I'm slowly getting myself settled. Whereabouts in Muscovy did you come from? I've heard stories about the place but I 'ent never left my own country I'm afraid."
Anastasiya: "I didn't know about Cali either. And I was towards the eastern end, near Japan - so you can imagine how jet-lagged I was for a while.
Evan and Anastaysia continue to talk for a while, the conversation is cordial. Eventually Evan has to leave to perform his duties for the cohort, as a newly qualified legionnaire. However the two are paired for all-day training sessions in the gladiatorial arena the next day. The weather is temperate and not as sunny as it was beforehand; he arrives early with a hefty gym bag slung over his shoulders. He sits on the stone steps and waits, listening to music via his headphones.
Anastasiya: Her weapons are on her belt as she waits, listening to Don't You Dare Forget The Sun. She sees Evan and waves him over with a smile, ready to start whenever he is, taking her headphones out and putting them in her bag.
Evan: He takes his headphones out upon spotting Anastasiya. Evan fumbles with the wires and buttons for a while, the lyrical music still playing out the speakers. The son of Lucina tucks them away in the bag. "Miss Anastasiya." He bows his head down towards the stone steps. "Are we training with the bow or the sword today?" He asks, adjusting one of the ladybird gems on his leather belt.
Anastasiya: She considers for a moment, resting her chin on her hand. "The sword," she decides, purely because she knew she would totally show herself up at archery. She looks at the long sheath on her belt, taking the daggers and other secondary weapons from her belt, leaving the sword. Evan was one of those people she respected - and she knew he would most definitely prove to be a worthy and challenging adversary.
Evan: "Alright." Evan murmurs, his voice echoing across the vast emptiness of the arena. He draws his sword, the one and a half inch blade glimmering faintly in the sunlight. He holds the pommel of the sword with one hand for fine motor control and places the other one just underneath his crossguard- that would provide the power for any blows he wished to make. The centurion was a fine warrior, even though the idea of a female warrior was new to him. He was consciously aware of the major difference in size. The legionary merely shrugs his shoulders and takes a couple of steps back; his feet skimming across the sandy ground- and leaving small clouds of dust. "Ladies first?"
Anastasiya: Drawing her sword after tying back her hair, the daughter of Mars assesses her opponent. Taking a few backward steps as she assessed, she holds her sword so it runs from her torso to the top of her head, so she could respond to attacks at speed. She shifts her stance so she could move easier, shutting off her aura quickly. Making sure she was balanced and running through her techniques including parries in her head. She shook her head. "I understand you're a gentleman, but I'm definitely not the first-move type," she replies, remembering how much a first move can tell you. She watches and waits, looking forward to the sound of metal on metal.
Evan: Evan merely raises an eyebrow. He stands his ground and adopts a warrior's stance. He keeps his centre of gravity low and starts to circle around Anastasyia, testing whether she would react to any of his moves. He didn't want to hurt her. He shifts his stance and feints to the right, before withdrawing to the left- always keeping a couple of steps away. The legionnaire tries to tamper with her hormones to render the daughter of Mars lethargic. Suddenly he takes a step forward and aims a sweeping cut downwards for her mid-section, where she was holding her sword, hoping to catch her off guard and knock the blade out of her hands, before the centurion could react.
Anastasiya: Quickly, she retrieves the sword in her other hand, launching herself over his head and to the other side, thanking her father for her jumping ability, before attempting the pressure point on his forearm that would make him drop his own sword.
Evan: Surprised by the switch, he watches Anastaysia swap the weapon to her other hand. Rather than feel the clash of metal against metal, Evan missed as the centurion deftly dodges over his head. He spins on his feet clumsily, his bottom hand spinning the pommel to lift the blade back upwards, as he just catches the blow. It clashes against the crossguard, the blunt edge of the blade deflected an inch away from his fingers which are curled underneath the guard. He raises his sword and redirects the blow upwards at an awkward angle, using the extra reach of his blade to try push her sword away and slide his own into a position where he was better equipped to control the flow of battle.
Anastasiya: Her sword is pushed back - wanting it to be on her terms, she pulls back and gains a secure grip on her sword.
Evan: "Not bad." He nods with assent and notes her reluctance to make the first attack. After all, Evan could not forget his size advantage; in her position he would wear out the opponent and wait for them to mess up and overextend themselves. The son of Lucina kicks the gravel upwards for her face and closes in while she seems distracted, sending the blunt edge of his blade in a backwards motion towards her hands in an attempt to bruise her knuckles and send her sword clashing to the ground.
Anastasiya: There was little she could do about dropping the sword, but she aimed a kick around towards Evan's knees, hoping to cause them to buckle so he would fall backwards and she could retrieve the sword. She's a lot smaller, and faster, so she could use that.
Evan: Evan is taken by surprise- as the roundhouse kick directly hits his knees. His robust figure easily takes the blow, however he stumbles backwards somewhat. It takes him a few seconds to regain his balance- and he summons a manifestation of the pain felt during childbirth towards Anastasiya to try and stun her.
Anastasiya: Her hands are back around the sword when Evan stuns her - she isn't screaming but you can tell that she's in pain by the way her grip tightens, and in her eyes. Think of something else, think of something else, think of something else! she tells herself, but can't.
Evan: His hands clinch around the blade of his sword- evidently it's difficult for him to bear witness to the pain and he feels his control start to slip away, the side effects of his ability would quickly wear off. His light hazel eyes glance around, looking for any way he can get an advantage and press the attack. He goes into a warriors stance, holding his sword in his left hand and guarding his right with the other, his torso and mid-regions covered. He slashes the blade for her shoulder, trying to disarm her once again or at least impede her ability to fight.
Anastasiya: Making usage of her ability to become immune to physical attacks, she does so for a few seconds, meaning the blow connects but does nothing. She jumps back, landing carefully on her feet and thinking about her next move.
Evan: Luckily the blow glances right off her shoulder- and he quickly manages to recover after the unsuccessful attack. The son of Lucina could feel sweat begin to form on his brow, he wipes it off with his spare hand and grips the handle of his weapon with two hands for added defence. This was the stage where the two of them were likely to get tired and make mistakes, he assumes that she is starting to tire out too, despite her lighter physique. "You're gonna have to do better to tire me out." Evan teases, trying to get her to make a rash decision, and overextend herself in the process. "I can keep going for a while."
Anastasiya: With a sigh, she shakes her head. "I'm not trying to tire you, she says, enchanting his weapon with a negative effect of brittleness, before aiming a fake shot in an attempt to trick him into blocking - which, with the brittleness imbued, could have jarring effects. She is sweating, though
Evan: He takes a tight grip on his sword, as Luce seems to lose some of its lustre and become more brittle. As a skilled swordsman, he knew a feint when he saw one. Rather than block, Evan summons audiovisual images of childbirth, the various images targeted to surround Anastaysia and make him a more difficult target to hit- as the sounds are quite loud and the images disorienting. He darts around to narrowly avoid the blow, as she had taken a step backwards previously and thus would have to make up the distance and sidestepped towards her back, aiming a kick for the tendons behind her knees to take her down to the ground and get a non-fatal hit.
Anastasiya: Anastasiya is very much disoriented, pretty sure she heard the voice of her own mother. When she falls, she seems to sense something is wrong by the fact she was on the ground and her knees hurt. She swings her sword upwards, hoping to block his shot with her sword.
Evan: Evan blocks the incoming sword, although his own sword has become much less brittle, Anastaysia's enchantment still lingers over the imperial gold, this makes the impact much stronger than he intended and the vibrations run through the effectively hollow sword and shake through his arms. He grits his teeth and points the sword towards her, waiting to see what she'll do next.
Anastasiya: Anastasiya smiles a little bit, before speeding round the back of him and attempting to kick him in the back of the knee, trying to make him fall and get herself into a potential (if this was a real fight) winning position.
Evan: Half-expecting the blow (as they had both used the same technique twice before), Evan is able to turn around in time to avoid the blow, instead of skirting around, he decides to try to hit Anastaysia's wrist with the crossguard of his sword in order to disarm her, his larger body charging towards hers, as the kick had probably left her in a position where she was vulnerable to being knocked down.