Aereuer Showers

[arturiarex]

Who: Saber, Various
When: Throughout the month of Aereuer
Where: The City, the outskirts, the wild, etc.
What: Catch-all
Warnings: None (yet)

[ooc: catch-all! If you'd like to plot something, drop me a line via PM or dragoon1940

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Diarmuid

[arturiarex]

When Saber hears about something or someone predating on the various flocks and farms that help keep the city fed, there's no question in her mind of what she ought to do about it. She volunteers herself to help track down what (or who) is threatening the people of the city she finds herself in. There's simply no alternative to her mind. There's a whole group dedicated to it, of course, and the whole affair is a bit loosely organized, but they're sitll being paired up or put into groups to work together. If it is a creature, it's better to have someone with you if you stumble across it.

She just wasn't expecting who she'd up with.

It's why she finds herself on one of the dirt roads that stretches out toward the fields and forests, picking her way through the damp and trying not to look askance at Diarmuid. She didn't object, but she also isn't sure how he feels. They've only spoken a few times and she's acutely aware that there might still be pain there.

"Where do you think we should start?"

It seems best to get down to business.

[ua_duibhne]

Naturally, Diarmuid had been silent throughout the process, smiling and nodding but otherwise not entirely knowing how to react to his new partner. The witch helming this particular branch of the investigation had gone about introducing the two of them as though they were strangers, oblivious to the unease lingering between them. It was almost a relief when she had left; he feels no need for pretence in front of Saber. Their relationship is- well, it's perfectly simple in its perfect complexity.

Even now as he glances over at her, it's with an unreadable expression. It's true that they've been civil- hell, outright friendly with each other over the network but it's a very different experience in person. Perhaps that had lulled him into a false sense of security. The changes in her physically, a potential visual way to draw a line between the past and present, do little to straighten out his amibivalence; no amount of claws and tails could make her any less magnetic. Any less King Arthur.

He clears his throat.

"One of the farms set upon by the beast is nearby." He shades his eyes with his hand and peers at the tufts of smoke visible just over the treeline. "If you'd like to examine the damage first hand, it might be an idea to pay it a visit."

[arturiarex]

Saber has enjoyed the few interactions they've had on the network, even if there is an awkwardness in the air between them now. How could there not be? Their shared history, as limited as it was, still left behind wounds and heartache. Her transformation - bit by bit - has added another element that she's still grappling with, unsure if it changes anything. If it changes her.

She is still glad to see him, though. Even with that awkwardness.

She glances up at him as he clears his throat.

"I think that would be best," she replies with a nod, "It's been some time since I went hunting. The last time was for a white hart..." She trails off with distant look.

"We were not successful."

[ua_duibhne]

Diarmuid's footsteps falter as he stops to regard her- but it's reflexive when his hand goes to his midriff, fingertips brushing fabric with an almost imperceptible tremble. It's not quite the same place his spear pierced in Fuyuki but-

"... neither was I," he says.

The hand falls limply to his side and he forces himself to look away, irritation already beginning to well up in the wound the memory left. Saber's presence is so confusing. The twin memories of his pride at fighting alongside her and the humiliation of his end hit so many familiar notes in the tragedy of his legend that it's hard not to linger in it. But only briefly: allowing it to effect him now would be unprofessional. More than though, he's trying against all his intincts to believe that she was telling the truth. If she's the king he so desperately wants her to be, his faith won't be the death of him this time.

As they reach the gates up ahead, he glances over his shoulder.

"Have your senses grown any stronger since your transformation?"

[arturiarex]

Saber notices the little movement, the brush of his hand against his torso. She doesn't want to say anything, because bringing up painful memories doesn't seem a wise decision. So she moves on, choosing to pretend to be ignorant in order to spare him. Is that the right answer? She certainly hopes so.

"Somewhat, I think. I can hear and smell a little better, but... it's a little strange, honestly, having a tail and claws. I keep getting my hands tangled in things. And I can no longer wear gloves..."

She seems a little spooked by that. Although it's something subtle, a bit of a twist in her expression as she follows him.

"Whatever happens, this is what I must cope with now. And I will. You... seem to be a touch more fortunate in that regard."

[ua_duibhne]

Likewise, Diarmuid lets that flicker of discomfort pass without reacting to it. Their relationship is so delicate right now that it feels like any misplaced comments could tear the still healing ties holding it together.

"Aye, I've been spared a lot of suffering." He pauses, brow furrowing slightly. "Some of the more... psychological changes filter through my Bonds but it's minimal by comparison."

Well, mostly through one particular Bond. It's a good thing that this mission hadn't taken place a few days before because he still would have been sneezing and sulking with the remainders of a headcold thanks to a misadventure on Berserker's part.

Diarmuid unlatches the gate and steps through- but his next move comes before he can stop it. Wordlessly, he holds it open, head bowed slightly in expectation of Saber following him, as though he were waiting on a lord. After all this time, those old habits hold strong, it seems; a king is a king, no matter the circumstances they find themselves in.

[arturiarex]

"I've finally managed to bond to someone," she replies thoughtfully, "Although it is likely one of convenience and to prevent my losing control rather than one that is close."

She's reluctant to discuss it more than that, honestly. She didn't enjoy losing her own self-control, especially considering who she ended up losing control around. That's neither here nor there, though, and she's ready to move on from the subject as soon as possible. She pauses as Diarmuid unlatches the gate and there's a flicker of surprise as he holds it open for her and she can suddenly see in him one of her knights and she feels as if her heart will burst.

But she doesn't say a word. She nods in acknowledgement; a gesture of respect and thanks and then she steps through and continues, moving with her usual quiet efficiency.

Dimitri

[arturiarex]

Aside from the problem of the elusive Devil, there are always expeditions to be mounted out into the wilds to keep the infection back and hunt down infected creatures to ensure they don't pose a threat to outlying farms and houses and to keep lines of communication to the outposts clear. She brings her sword with her, of course, and isn't completely surprised to find a few new faces when the group begins to their trek.

One in particular catches her attention - a tall young man with blond hair. She draws apace with him with a business-like nod, "I do not believe I have seen you out here before. Are you newly arrived?"

A Mirrorbound, she means. Not a native from Aefenglom.

[boarddyd]

A new arrival and unbound, Dimitri's presence on this venture has been the point of contention for a few of the more regular travelers. Others vouched for him; when a pair offered to watch over him, he had thanked them profusely.

And then kept to himself as they set out.

Of course, he has questions, but Dimitri has resigned to finding his answers in battle, rather than in idle chatter.

Not that he minds the sudden company - he turns to the woman with a polite smile and nods. "That's correct.

This is my first venture into the wild, but I assure you I will stay out of the way." He says, but he's brought two spears, and he does intend to fight should one arise.

[arturiarex]

Saber, at least, finally has a bond, although she's not here for this expedition. Saber has taken it upon herself to see to the newcomer and find out a little more about him. Mirrorbound should stick together, shouldn't they?

"I don't think you should worry overmuch," she replies with a nod. He seems to carry himself like a soldier or a knight and she quietly approves.

"Is the lance your weapon of choice?"

[boarddyd]

The formality she exudes is comfortable for him. Dimitri falls into step with the woman easily, matching his gait to hers as the group travels farther from the city. With a polite nod, he accepts her reassurance, though he will still be conscious of his behavior.

"Ah, yes. I have a fair amount of training in sword and hand to hand combat as well.

A lance is simply what I'm most comfortable with." He doesn't dual wield them like some kind of weirdo, either, he just... breaks them easily. Honestly, he's wondering if two was enough.

[arturiarex]

"I knew - know someone who uses them as well. He's a skilled combatant. I hope I have a chance to see you in action," Saber replies with a nod. Then again, seeing him in action would mean they were in danger. So maybe she should wish to see him on the training field instead.

"Are you a knight?" She arched a brow. Somehow he exuded the sense of one.

"Or simply a soldier?"

Wait, where are manners. She paused and shook her head. "Apologies - you may call me Saber."

[boarddyd]

Whether they find themselves crossed with danger, or Dimitri simply seeks the woman out for a sparring match after the journey - he's eager to show her what he's capable of and be measured against her fighter.

He'd like to go up against the man himself, too.

But so many are without their comrades here; he won't ask about the man's presence.

"Please, do not apologize. It's lovely to meet you, Saber. My name is Dimitri...

And to answer your question, soldiers and knights are similar where I'm from. Though, I am more of a... leader, I suppose." He's far from prideful about it, almost remorseful-

"Though I fight with my men on the front lines."

Byleth - Night of Aereuer 8/Morning of Aereur 9

[arturiarex]

The night of the full moon isn't as bad as the last. She's not swept up in a wave of fear or need or a loss of self-control. She feels anchored, even if the distant feeling of being aware of another at the back of her mind is a little strange to get used to again after having not had it for a few months. It's there, but Saber tries to distance herself a little, mostly out of a respect for Byleth.

That becomes something of a problem midway through the night. It begins with an itch on her shoulderblades and at first Saber simply tries to ignore it, tossing over in her beed from one side to the other as it becomes worse and worse. Soon, it's dominating her thoughts and turning from an itch into something sharper.

What, exactly, is going on ?

[hegemonwings]

The growing discomfort that Byleth can feel through the bond definitely gets her attention. She's has been keeping odd hours, thanks to the time she arrived and Edelgard's own nocturnal habits, so she's not woken by it, but... this is alarming. She had expected something to happen on the night of the full moon, but whatever this is—concern and worry bleeds through from her side of the bond, as she retrieves her watch from where she's placed it on her desk.

Saber. Are you all right?
Do you need help?

The second she places her watch back down, she's already pulling on her boots.

[arturiarex]

Saber is focused on herself at the moment, at least until her watch chimes at her. She rolls over and picks it up, trying to ignore the growing feeling on her back. It's turning into something stabbing, but it seems to go on and on.

I am in pain. I'm unsure why.

I apologize if it's bleeding over to you.

She worries about many things, but especially about causing pain to the person who's graciously given her assistance. She stands and starts to move, if only to try and keep her mind focused, pushing out into the hallway of the massive mansion she shares with two other people.

[hegemonwings]

That seems exactly like what she'd expect from Saber so far. Byleth finishes buckling her boots in place, turning her attention back to her watch to answer.

I'm more concerned for you.
Where are you now? I'll come to you.

[arturiarex]

I'm at home. Although I feel like I need to step outside.
Thank you for your concern.

She's moving now, bare feet on the carpet as she goes down the hallway to the stairs. She doesn't want to wake up her house-mates. She starts down the stairs and halfway, she doubles over, bracing herself against the wall as it turns to pain.

Maybe having a bonded closer will help? She doesn't know.

[hegemonwings]

After a quick exchange with two of her housemates, she's out the door.

I'm borrowing Edelgard's bicycle and some pain relievers. I'll be there as quickly as I can. Do whatever you think will help in the meantime.

Byleth's... never ridden a bicycle before. She's seen them being used since arriving in Aefenglom, and she thinks she understands the principle, but... well, first time for everything. Luckily, her coordination and riding skills seem to translate... well enough? So she's on her way as quickly as she feels she can safely take this thing, sending assurance and warmth through the bond in an effort to help.

early aereuer.

[tryhard]

There's plenty of space for training near the barracks along the outer edge of the Haven neighborhood, nearer the stables and, of course, the Wall. They don't need anything fancy, only space and peace.

Waver wasn't sure what to bring. He has a few weapons, none of them impressive: the plain but effective sword he'd brought to the Wilde, a long wooden stick he'd practiced swinging with, and the dagger he's taken to keeping on his belt nearly always since the attack in January. His real weapons, if they can be called that, are the bracelets and tattoos around his wrists-- but he knows he can'd depend solely on magic that isn't his.

'Conventional' wisdom around this place says he should learn to fight up close and build his strength, that he should depend on his claws and teeth and natural instincts. But Waver has never been physically strong, has spent far more time doing deskwork than training, and even if he's found himself with a boost here both in supernatural strength and fighting off sickness, it's not like he's the type of Turnskin who can haul full beer barrels with his bare hands like the sailors at the harbor. Not to mention he still struggles with those Turnskin instincts far too much to embrace whatever advantage they could give him in a fight. If anything, since the time spent in that awful Rathmore dungeon, he's backslid terribly in terms of acceptance; he hasn't been this nervous about using any of his instincts or natural abilities since they first started to manifest, hasn't been so scared of his own teeth and claws and what they can do to a person in months. It's left his shaken, paranoid and strained. The full moons are a few days away still, and yet already he dreads the night, the feeling that comes with it.

None of this can be dealt with using a blade, but it's a distraction if nothing else. It's a reminder that he still has agency. It's a desperate attempt to make sure he can defend himself if 'next time' ever comes along. (Though even Caster, even Berserker hadn't been able to defend themselves, and so how could he even--? No. That doesn't matter now.) Waver shows up at the designated time, punctual and ready, dressed in loose clothes he doesn't mind getting dirty.

He misses Geralt very much. More guilt and worry to push aside.

"...Saber? How should we do this?"

[arturiarex]

Saber has instructed others in the art of the blade before. She has overseen soldiers and knights, has led them into battle, corrected technique. Training one young man should be easy, shouldn't it? But he's not just some young soldier. He's a former opponent and an ally, someone she feels she ought to treasure in someway. What's more, she is dealing with her own changes. The claws, the tail, the instincts and heightened senses that come with everything else that has happened to her so far. How will that make things different?

She doesn't rightfully know.

Nor does she know of the turmoil that's led to his decision. In a way, this offer is an olive branch and a clumsy attempt by Saber to try and establish a relationship beyond what they have. It's her only avenue and so she attempts to exploit it as best she can. She's wearing loose-fitting clothing herself and has brought along Excalibur and a suitable stick of her own. It's not a proper training weapon, but it may simply have to do.

"Waver," she nods, "I think we should begin with what you know and your habits. That will tell me if you have good ones. Or bad ones that will need to be trained out of you. Who have you been learning from before me? Or were you instructing yourself?"

She is right down to business, isn't she?

[tryhard]

Right down to business is fine with him.

Waver takes a breath, meets her eyes, and answers without elaborating on the whys and hows.

"I had a teacher some months ago, but then I stopped practicing for a while. Recently, I've been doing more on my own or with help from various friends. And Iskandar, of course. The focus has been on self-defense more than anything."

As she'd seen when they'd fought in the Wilde together, Waver didn't have much experience with offensive fighting. She might have witnessed him largely supporting the other Monsters and those defending the Witches then, providing fortification or elemental spells, helping carry and replenish supplies and projectiles-- and of course when they'd actually fended off some of the Shades together.

He shifts his weight uncertainly, hefting the stick and sword he's carrying. He won't be willing to practice with the real blade, but he brought it along just in case.

"Frankly," he admits. "I don't like doing this. I don't like to fight, and I don't plan to make a habit of it. But if the situation arises, I want options so I don't always have to rely on others to watch out for me."

[arturiarex]

"Very few people enjoy fighting in earnest," Saber agrees with a nod. He'd certainly seemed out of his element against the Shades, even if he'd been trying his best. So she's doing her best to reassure him.

"Those who seek out battle and bloodshed for its own sake are often the last people who should have been taught the art of the sword in the first place. So know that I understand your reluctance and I will do my best to be sensitive to it."

She raises her own stick with a firm nod.

"The best thing you can do is work on your form and your movements; you want them to be instinctual so that you don't need to think when everything is chaos."

[tryhard]

It's honestly a relief that she agrees and has that outlook too. Waver isn't exactly surprised, but hearing it expressed aloud eases some of his nerves. He nods.

"I understand. I can show you a bit of what I know, but I haven't worked on it too... formally, I suppose you could say. The goal was always self-defense and being able to react quickly rather than working on how to do it... gracefully, or whatever."

Speaking of instinctual...

"I guess I should be learning how to use my, ah, claws and such too, but it's always weird."

He doesn't like the rawness of it, the close-up physicality. And he has too many lingering bad memories of how he'd been forced to use his natural defenses as weapons against other helpless prisoners. In reality, it's probably smarter to learn how to take advantage of what he has, but it's hard when he still dislikes admitting the truth of his new existence here.

"...have you been trying to do anything like that?"

It seems her changes have progressed a bit more since they last spoke.

[arturiarex]

"All the more reason to focus on making it near-instinctual. When you defend you need to be able to react quickly," Saber nods. She's apparently pleased with their conversation and the fact that he's willing to try and make it work. She takes a few experimental swipes with her stick and then pauses as he continues, talking about claws. Ah, yes, those. She hasn't thought too hard about hers, although perhaps she should have been. Especially since he moves on to her almost immediately afterward. She pauses, expression falling a little. She glances down at one of her hands, fingers curling so she can look at the claws she's been trying to keep trimmed down.

"I... haven't given it much thought, honestly," she replies slowly. She remembers a time under the full moon when she'd used them, but she had very little wish to recount that encounter with anyone.

"My fighting was always done with lance or sword and I don't see a reason to let that change now. My claws, such as they are, would be a weapon of last resort in any case."

Although that sounds a bit like an excuse.

"Far better to rely on tools then to give in to the urge to become..." She trails off, as if realizing she's about to say something unfortunate and shakes her head.

"It matters little, doesn't it?"