Let's Train in 100 Times Gravity

[shineinside]

Who: Anyone who wants to come by! Tag in, thread with Yuka, thread with each other, whatever you want.
What: Combat training/practice.
When: Sunset, each night for a week minimum.
Where: East end of Islet 1.
Warnings: Possible blood if things get out of hand, implied 80s training montage songs

Yuka chose this location because the ground was level, there was enough space for people to move around, and nobody was really using it for anything else. No wild beasts, no fish people to disturb, no strange psychological effects... the ideal place for people to gather for an hour or two and get some good-natured fighting in. The snow on the ground wasn't ideal, she supposed, but that stuff was everywhere, so they'd just have to make do. It'd probably be snowing during the invasion, anyway.

Each evening, as the sun inched towards the horizon, Yuka set her other tasks aside to come out and wait. Jug of wassail sitting at the edge of the space, bundled in warm clothes and scarves, Yuka paced, wondering if this was really going to be worth the time. Are there people willing to spend that much time to train others when there's so much else that needs doing? Can someone even learn enough to make a difference in this little time? For that matter, are these shadow monsters something you can even fight with your fists? If nothing else, it would be good to do some physical activity in just to get her mind to stop going in circles.

For those who arrived early, there would be less to do, but even just talking through what different fighting skills people had would be useful for later on. Once more people arrived, those who use similar weapons could work together, and those with more combat experience could work with those with less. Or, people who know each other or are curious about each other's abilities could seek each other out for a sparring match.

So: Fight, teach, learn, take breaks, drink, chat. Bring your own wassail if you can - Yuka's can only stretch so far.

Comments

[hyperlit]

It was a tactic. It was a...tactic?

The Drifter's face is not wholly visible by default, but a dark furrow creases the cobalt skin visible beneath their helm, from just above their mantle, a hurt bewilderment that they cannot wholly quantify, because the idea of using one's own injury as a tactic strikes them as...

If it means that what must pass will pass, then perhaps it is not an improper strategy. But it is not a tactic they would ever think to employ. It is not one they would willingly employ.

Their gaze skirts away from the Batter's blank look, falling to survey the snow-stained ground.

did not intend to hurt

[unpurify]

The Batter was inept when it came to understanding and expressing emotions. Even with the lessons he learned from Zacharie and...others fresh in his mind, it still was a struggle to express anything. But he could still pick it up from others via observation.

And it's obvious he did something wrong here.

It was not a usual tactic employed by many for obvious reasons. At best if things went wrong the purifier could have lost a few fingers and a worst his whole hand. And it may be a byproduct of having the Puppeteer - and now the Storyteller - on hand to revive him, it meant little. Of course, to the Batter his life...

...no. That train of thought would just lead into another loop in the purifier's mind and he did not need that right now. Focus. Address the situation at hand. Talk.

"It was my choice to make. I am incapable of regretting it." The Batter has done it with a clear mind, after all. It wasn't a desperate last-ditch attempt or anything. He reached out to grab the blade with the intent of catching the Drifter off guard with the move. That's all.

His brow furrows slightly as he tries to find the words. "I am unsure if this is the correct thing to say. But if I have upset you, I am...sorry? I think that's it."

That should be it, if he recalled it correctly.

[hyperlit]

Incapable of regretting it. Incapable. A curious phraseology. He apologizes, despite that, and that in and of itself is its own unique occurrence. He stumbles over the words, as though they are unfamiliar. I am sorry?

Does he not frequently issue apologies? Are they unnatural, aberrant, strange, where he is from? He has difficulty expressing the words. He has difficulty, when the Batter has always been direct, unfailingly blunt, sheathed in his own certainty across every avenue.

They will start with the first, the most confusing aspect, their head tipping slowly to one side, inquiringly.

incapable
?

[unpurify]

He always has, yes. But that was in avenues he understood. Zacharie had stated he was a being that only spoke in pain and the merchant was not far off the mark. Offering little in conversations because they mattered little and pour the rest into battles and the need to continue. Keep going.

But now the Batter was trying things that he had absolutely no experience with and was floundering worse then a fish out of water. He wasn't made for it and possessed a knee-jerk reaction to crush down anything that managed to sneak by his notice. Yet here he was. And the purifier probably should explain.

"I do not possess emotions." It can explain a lot of things, least of all making the decision to block a blade with his bare hand. Someone could come to that conclusion but actually doing it and fighting the fear and pain was another story. The fear the Batter felt was largely metaphorical and physiological and not something he was going to talk to the Drifter about.

"And I am still learning. So I may not understand what you are feeling even if I can see it."

He can tell when someone was happy, sad, angry and so on. The Batter was good at observation. But putting himself in the person's shoes was another story and something he was not good at. He never did before. An child in an adult's body.

To say the least.

[hyperlit]

It does not make much sense, considering. He seems to be perfectly capable of experiencing and processing emotions. He had seemed pleased enough with the concept of rainbows, hadn’t he? Pleased, even wistful and fond. Perhaps, as a fellow warrior, he has learned to do what most drifters do, and not express such things in overt and therefore unseemly fashions. Perhaps that is what he meant?

That is a far more familiar sentiment. They can manage that.

doing very well

And they can even be polite about it.

[unpurify]

Perhaps if the Drifter ever learned what the Batter was, they'd understand. But the last time it came up, it ended even worse then he thought it would. So he won't.

Still, it is kind of a surprise they choose to comment that he was doing 'very well'. The Batter had been judging his progression through other people's reactions and it did not seem he was getting anywhere.

"Ah...thank you." Good. That was good. It was slow but something was happening. Where exactly it was going to lead, he doesn't know. The end of the road was returning home and his coma, but things may be different along the way.

...but it's hard to keep it going. So the Batter is going to direct the conversation back towards combat. "Do you always rely on speed in combat?"

[hyperlit]

He responds in manners other than the clipped fashion they've come to associate with those who progress on a plane askew; the Drifter themself has been subject to the very same, subject to and subjected to, as is requisite for those who fight and face death. They understand their fragilities. They wrap their concerns in cloth and helm, muzzle reactions that might be untoward.

In that regard, the ravaging of their vocal cords had almost been useful.

yes
illness inflicts frailty
little room for error

[unpurify]

Combat was significantly more easier to talk about. It was related to the upcoming event and was geared towards what the Batter was created for.

The mention of an 'illness' is curious and yes, there is a knee-jerk reaction to ask more about it. But the Batter has been trying to ignore it lately when it came to the stranger residents of the island. So he moves forward.

"And if you cannot move?"

They'd be in trouble then if they couldn't.

[hyperlit]

use range

They slip one of said ranged weapons from the folds of their cloak. The Zaliska has a strange look, with its rounded barrel, flared at the edges for the projectiles that burst from it in crackling, glasslike orbs of powerful energy. Even when constrained, they are far from helpless - though it is best if they do not squander their ammunition on a simple sparring match.

limited here

[unpurify]

The Batter actually hasn't seen a gun before. His world did not have them. Maybe in a comic book, but nothing farther.

But it makes sense. The Batter relied on the Add-Ons to get to places he couldn't and it became a disaster when neither couldn't. The fight with Japhet came to mind and all the times he ate the concrete because close-combat was his forte and a flying target made things difficult. So it makes sense that the Drifter, with a short-ranged weapon, would make choices and bring weapons that covered what they normally couldn't.

"Limited how?"

[hyperlit]

ammunition
refills daily

A difference from the ease with which they could refill their weapons via fierce action alone; striking enough blows, rending enough enemies to pieces with great swipes of their hard light blade, to eventually allow the kinetic energy to charge into something tangible, something more.

It is such that they must be considerably more careful, here.

[unpurify]

So if they run out of ammunition then the weapon couldn't be used. It was something to keep in mind, much like how the Puppeteer - and now the Batter himself - had to keep track of everyone's CP, least they both have no accesses to special attacks and healing and revival skills.

The sun going down was going to turn into a battle of resources and stamina when it happens. Hopefully everyone is prepared by then.

"It is useful to have."

[hyperlit]

A nod of their cloaked head, apparently satisfied with that deduction, and the Drifter stows the weapon away again, secreting it wherever weapons such as that dwell until such a time that they need them.

So, that is his question answered:

if mobility is limited
use range

functional strategy

[unpurify]

Yeah, that's his question answered. The Batter nods.

"It is. It is something I should think of as well."

It's pretty obvious that the Batter relied on his bat, observations and endurance. The Add-Ons supplied the range and were able to deal with threats before they got too close, but another means would be very useful.

[hyperlit]

there were guns
fired coconuts

The Drifter had not bothered to barter for them; they had far more efficient and reliable and familiar weaponry, so they cannot speak as to the whereabouts of said guns anymore. But surely there must be some of them floating about somewhere.

Even if ammunition is limited, it surely must be better than depriving oneself of the opportunity to implement a ranged attack at all.

[unpurify]

That's right. The Batter hadn't bothered with them because he felt he would be fine with what he currently had. But it's very likely that they are still around and people were often interested in trading for things. That, and it's also likely he could ask the Storyteller for help with something simple.

"This has been very helpful."

Really. The Batter was able to find his own weaknesses along with fighting against someone who has a far different fighting style then himself. Useful.

[hyperlit]

Briefly, the Drifter’s head lifts and their eyes cup into pleased half-moons, obviously happy with the positive feedback. This Batter is turning out to be a very kind, multifaceted fellow, between the combat training and the promise to see a rainbow.

good
enjoyed training with you