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Post by Pyralis Demos on Jan 13, 2013 22:24:03 GMT -5
Pyre was impressed with Quinn's ferocity. From the way she'd spoke when he'd first met her, she had never used a sword in her life! Now, here she was countering every move he made. Blocking the stab, the demigod was taken offguard by the swipe. He managed to stumble back, however, narrowly avoiding, while stabbing out with an attack of his own. While he could use nearly any sword, expertly, his usual weapon - Cyclone - was perfectly balanced and fitted for his hands. His attacks moved far more fluidly. However, it was back in the dorm. The training blade would have to do.
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Post by Quinn Tempest on Jan 16, 2013 18:21:05 GMT -5
From what Quinn knew, the fight had reached a climax where Pyre had warmed up. He was getting increasingly faster and more accurate despite her moves getting more and more risky. So far, she had been quite successful in pulling them off, but she was slowly running out of tricks. She was surprised that Pyre had managed to squeeze in an attack through his mishap in footing.
The daughter of Poseidon evaded, the sword grazing over her arm. Had it been a sharpened blade, she was positive it would have cut her, and it wouldn't have been pretty since contact with the training tool and her skin ran the length of the top of her forearm. But it left no mark, and she took this as a warning to step up her game, be more alert. She had him on momentary retreat, so she pursued. Quinn sprang forward, swinging at his legs and then stabbing out at his side.
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Post by Pyralis Demos on Jan 16, 2013 22:41:17 GMT -5
Pyralis thought he had turned the tides on the young child of Poseidon, when she countered, vigorously. He managed to block the first few, but one came into contact with his arm - a glancing blow. Had the fight been real, his sleeve would have stained crimson; instead, his arm would just bruise - an issue had he been a child of Aphrodite, but as a son of the wild West Wind, a bit of pain made the training all the more real... all the more enjoyable.
Unfortunately, the blows just kept coming. In an effort to dodge them, Pyre leaped back, though his feet still unsteady. Just as he'd thought he had managed to land, his legs gave way and the son of Zephyrus fell. Though he could have attempted to keep fighting, bringing his sword up in defense as he slowly rose, he accepted defeat and threw his hands into the air. "Uncle!" he cried out, jokingly, laughing to his heart's content. "This was the best fun I've had in months!"
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Post by Quinn Tempest on Jan 19, 2013 0:39:52 GMT -5
Her relentless onslaught was completely insane for someone to try in a real fight, but since this wasn't a real fight and rather sparring, she took the chance. To throw down all her cards in this one flurry off attacks, she was sure she would have been quickly defeated afterwards if she did not finish it now. She was giving Pyre difficulty with her speed, though, and to her shock, she soon had him on the ground.
"You took it easy on me," she assumed. "Are you unaccustomed to fighting someone smaller than you?" It was a plausible reason. She had trouble fighting someone smaller than her- not that there was ever anyone smaller than her she had legitly fought with- because she was sued to fighting older people. Judging by the Academy's population, she was considered short and young. "I am afraid I do not understand what you mean. Fun? Fighting is not fun. It is just necessary for defense." She watched the cheerful boy on the ground, looking plenty confused.
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Post by Pyralis Demos on Jan 20, 2013 0:41:12 GMT -5
Pyre stared upwards, a smile upon his face. "No, believe me, I didn't," he laughed. "I gave it my best - you're really good." Slowly rising, the demigod brushed himself off, a small cloud of dirt falling to the ground with every swipe of the hand. "Can't something be fun and necessary?" he asked, his eyes still playful, but with a small hint of bewilderment present. He'd always found life fun - even the necessary parts of it. Boredom was a near-alien concept to the son of Zephyrus. He was like the wind - always moving; always doing something. And he loved it. "I like to eat and it's definitely necessary. I like to take walks - walking is necessary, isn't it?" Reaching casually for his sword, which he'd dropped on the ground as he fell, he moved to place it back against the wall, on the weapons rack. "Training can be fun too - your life isn't in danger while you train, there's no risk of death." Deciding to rephrase, Pyre added, "Well, almost no risk of death. So why can't you enjoy it?"
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Post by Quinn Tempest on Jan 20, 2013 0:54:09 GMT -5
Quinn watched Pyre, and expression of doubting on his face. She had a feeling that he was still hiding some kind of skill inside. His experience and moves were more fluid than hers. Had it not been for her imagination and reflexes, she wouldn't have taken this victory. She wanted that skill he had. It would be gained through practice.
The way he explained things to her baffled her. She studied Pyre with wide smoky blue eyes in a contemplative stare. "I have never considered that before," she admitted, "I always considered fighting redundant. Fighting leads to more fighting. Though it is necessary, it was never fun to me. A bit repetitive,cand therefore boring." The explanation spoke loud an clear- Quinn was used to conflict all the time.
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Post by Pyralis Demos on Jan 22, 2013 0:05:47 GMT -5
Pyre nodded, understandingly. While he could not relate to the feeling, he could at least comprehend Quinn's reasoning. However, he couldn't keep his mouth shut. "How is it repetitive? A fight is unpredictable, isn't it?" he asked. "After all, I didn't predict you to be so good!" Laughing, he took a couple casual steps closer to Quinn, having previously been halfway across the arena from her. Pyralis was more comfortable closer to the person he was talking to.
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Post by Quinn Tempest on Jan 23, 2013 21:36:24 GMT -5
It was human nature to have the will to contradict the other, but it didn't mean it wouldn't at least annoy Quinn a little. "I do not know. It is just repetitive to me, okay? The concept is always the same no matter how you fight or your reason or the outcome. It is just fighting. Surely you wouldn't want to spend your whole life fighting?" She touched her wrist subconsciously, the teal tattoo of the Camorra marking her like she was property but more accurately a weapon. She was wearing short sleeves today, so it wasn't hidden. One would look at it as a fashion statement, but an very educated person would recognize it as a symbol.
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Post by Pyralis Demos on Jan 24, 2013 15:28:13 GMT -5
Pyre nodded. "Well, yeah, I guess that's true," he conceded, "but I wouldn't want to spend my entire life doing anything. I need some change to keep things interesting, and I just think fighting gives me that change." Deciding not to take the subject any further, however, as he realized Quinn was very stubborn on the subject, he finished. "Believe what you want - you're entitled to your own opinion. I just like training - not actual fighting, but training, like we just did."
Hoping to move into a different subject, Pyre asked, "So where are you from?" He could, of course, pick up the southern European - most likely Italian - accent Quinn carried, but that did not answer his question.
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Post by Quinn Tempest on Feb 1, 2013 23:04:51 GMT -5
Quinn stared at Pyre, finding it hard to see his logic. She had been cruel in her ways of fighting, and she had accepted them as cruel. She had never found enjoyment in it, partly because it was necessary. There were sacrifices to be made for the rise of another to power. The daughter of Poseidon just decided not to dwell on the subject. She moved to return the training sword to the rack. It had been light and the perfect size,and she was sure to memorize its place.
The question made her hesitate, but it was normal for people to ask, right? This concept had donned on her because she spoke differently than them. She had an accent. "Naples. Naples, Italy," she replied in answer. "But I was living in Minnesota before I came here."
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Post by Pyralis Demos on Feb 1, 2013 23:14:39 GMT -5
Pyre nodded. "I've always wanted to go there - Italy, not Minnesota," he said, laughing at his clarification. Setting his own sword on the rack, he smiled. "I'm from Virginia Beach," he said over his shoulder, before turning back to his possible friend. He missed his home, often wishing to return there - to return to a time when things were simpler, a time before his days at SCA, a time before being known as a child of the wind.
(Short)
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Post by Quinn Tempest on Feb 6, 2013 22:37:20 GMT -5
Quinn missed Italy. She nodded, her expression dropping slightly at the thought of her home in Naples. Despite the lack of a childhood she had led there, it had been her favorite time in life. She was stuck here in this academy because she was a danger to her men.
The brunt of her education had been fed to her in Italy. English was her second language- taught to her by someone who had learned English themselves. It was only in her recent move to Minnesota that the "prodigy" of the Camorra could practice her English. She remembered each street, layout, and commodity in exchange along their secret networks that interlocked around the map of Naples and the rest of the peninsula. America wasn't like that. She didn't know anything, really, about it. "Virginia Beach? Where is that?" Quinn asked, her Italian accent strengthening in its curiosity.
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Post by Pyralis Demos on Feb 7, 2013 17:10:44 GMT -5
Pyre smiled, remembering his time home. Before he became Dorm Leader. Before he became a student. Before he became the child of the West Wind. Before he became a killer. "It's east of here," he replied, looking off, eastward, the opposite direction of the slowly setting sun. "It's mostly just a big tourist attraction, but it's home. The small towns and stuff around it are much quieter and the people there are pretty easy to get along with." He paused for a moment, caught up in his flashbacks. "I miss it," he whispered, only just quiet enough for Quinn to hear.
He turned back to the demigod, smiling again. "Do you miss Naples?" he asked. "Or Minnesota?" It seemed a bit strange for an Italian to move straight from the peninsula of Italy to the northern edge of the continental States. What lay there so interesting to an immigrant? Family? Friends? Was her family forced to move out of job requirements? Pyre didn't ask, though, deeming it unimportant.
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Post by Quinn Tempest on Feb 14, 2013 18:18:28 GMT -5
Quinn was paying close attention to Pyre as he spoke. She tended to be quite respectful once she had deemed a person worthy of her time. So with her currently alert observation skills, the glimmer of nostalgia in his eye didn't slip her notice. There was no way it could have. In his recollection, she could already tell that he missed it. She didn't need him to confirm it with the simple statement that was barely above the volume of silence. "It is only natural," she replied easily, understanding the feeling immediately.
As the topic moved onto her home, the daughter of Poseidon wasted no time to answer, "Minnesota, no. Aside from the fact my father and men are there, it was a dull place." Quinn continued on like it was normal to have "men" under her control. Italy was a different matter, though. She had liked her life, but she hadn't been able to experience a normal one. The one she was currently living now was so different, new, and surprisingly pleasant, that she could not really compare the two. "I miss Naples. But I am willing to continue on and experience new things here." Her innocent eyes reflected the child within her that was ready to explore as she spoke. "I am enjoying this place, so far."
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Post by Pyralis Demos on Feb 17, 2013 0:52:49 GMT -5
Pyre's grin faltered, slightly, at the mention of Quinn's 'men'. Did she have people under her command? Her? A young girl? This falter was not that of sadness or rage, but, again, of curiosity. "Who are you?" he asked, this time with a tone indicating he wasn't referring to her name or parentage, but her role in the world - her identity. Of course, his tone lacked any hostility. Only curiosity presented itself in the demigod's voice, wondering who this girl was.
(sorry, short)
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