08-28-2015, 03:11 PM
Caira decided perhaps ridicule was the best motivation for training. Because it was a challenge she could easily overcome. The prickling under her skin caused by their taunts would fuel her determination, or at least, it had seemed that way in theory.
An interruption slammed into the table before her. She opened her left eye curiously to gaze at the pint that nearly splashed her and to meet only a few words, “What are you doing? That’s my seat!”
There was literally no-one around her overturned table, so the monk stoically remained in her seat. Foodless, friendless, alone. It wasn’t like it was a throne or anything.. Caira pondered for a moment as some Secondaries scrambled away from the nearby tables with their meals, "This one?” Her head turned, bored, as she skimmed the rest of their location. "There's plenty around."
“Yes, that one. You got somethin’ in your ear?”
“Only the sound of your shouting.” she stated candidly. Some of Trevor's peers chuckled with amusement while the rest of the audience watched in a hushed silence.
Trevor's expression crackled with anger, “Why you-”
A punch collided with her cheek and she inhaled with a shocked gasp the smell of alcohol on his breath. The punch wasn’t enough to move her from her perched position on the table and her hair was barely scrambled by the weak impact. It seemed that speed was all he really had. Something that meant everything.
Trevor sought to analyze what he expected to be a complete knock out, only to find the unfazed girl staring blankly at him. Her hair fell to its tame clean after being slightly ruffled while her cheek hadn’t even blushed with color from the impact.
"Go home Trev. You're drunk!"
"Don't hit a girl for God's sake!"
“Think you can make a fool out of me?!” he challenged again as his composure broke and threw another blow. This one she dodged a bit and let his arm fall past her shoulder while her forehead collided into his to deliver a potent head-butt. Lightly –at least to her– it slammed into him and his whole body crumpled into a clumped in a dragging mess that, like she had planned, collapsed on her shoulder. With this, Caira stood from her wooden perch and carried him outside, away from the prying eyes of his peers.
After a short walk, Caira found a small spot and placed him so he was propped up against the castle-esque building in the housing block. She turned to leave him there, unconscious yet entirely safe. He would wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache, but still, he would be fine. Though suddenly, she heard something she didn’t expect. A gravelly voice called her back, “Why didn’t you leave me there?”
Tch, her expectations to wordlessly disappear with at least some, honor into the night evaporated, He just can’t make this easy on me no matter what situation I’m in. Caira slowly turned back around to face the soldier-to-be whom had sunken against the wall in the wallows of his sobering sorrow and allowed her curious expression to prompt an explanation from him.
“In front of them, you could’ve beaten me while I was drunk. Surely, it would have redeemed you from earlier.” He spoke of her defeat which caused a pang of bitter taste to lather itself on her tongue. "So why?"
“I don’t see in what way it would have. There’s nothing just about punching some drunk guy in the face. If you don’t mind I prefer the battlefield, of sorts, though perhaps I would have if you made me taste my own blood.” She phrased her challenge lightly as opposed to calling him weak directly, “And, I’m a woman, so apparently there’s no need for me to get involved in petty bar fights.”
The Prime began to trot off from the man whom had recovered from his incapacitation rather quickly and called her back, “Oi. Being a girl doesn’t really matter, don’t listen to anything those idiots say.” He was right, Caira thought looking back on it, never once had Trevor given her a hard time about her feminine abilities, despite his quite obvious Prime-related issues.
“You’re a great swordsman.” She returned, and her lips formed a crescent-shaped smile.
An interruption slammed into the table before her. She opened her left eye curiously to gaze at the pint that nearly splashed her and to meet only a few words, “What are you doing? That’s my seat!”
There was literally no-one around her overturned table, so the monk stoically remained in her seat. Foodless, friendless, alone. It wasn’t like it was a throne or anything.. Caira pondered for a moment as some Secondaries scrambled away from the nearby tables with their meals, "This one?” Her head turned, bored, as she skimmed the rest of their location. "There's plenty around."
“Yes, that one. You got somethin’ in your ear?”
“Only the sound of your shouting.” she stated candidly. Some of Trevor's peers chuckled with amusement while the rest of the audience watched in a hushed silence.
Trevor's expression crackled with anger, “Why you-”
A punch collided with her cheek and she inhaled with a shocked gasp the smell of alcohol on his breath. The punch wasn’t enough to move her from her perched position on the table and her hair was barely scrambled by the weak impact. It seemed that speed was all he really had. Something that meant everything.
Trevor sought to analyze what he expected to be a complete knock out, only to find the unfazed girl staring blankly at him. Her hair fell to its tame clean after being slightly ruffled while her cheek hadn’t even blushed with color from the impact.
"Go home Trev. You're drunk!"
"Don't hit a girl for God's sake!"
“Think you can make a fool out of me?!” he challenged again as his composure broke and threw another blow. This one she dodged a bit and let his arm fall past her shoulder while her forehead collided into his to deliver a potent head-butt. Lightly –at least to her– it slammed into him and his whole body crumpled into a clumped in a dragging mess that, like she had planned, collapsed on her shoulder. With this, Caira stood from her wooden perch and carried him outside, away from the prying eyes of his peers.
After a short walk, Caira found a small spot and placed him so he was propped up against the castle-esque building in the housing block. She turned to leave him there, unconscious yet entirely safe. He would wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache, but still, he would be fine. Though suddenly, she heard something she didn’t expect. A gravelly voice called her back, “Why didn’t you leave me there?”
Tch, her expectations to wordlessly disappear with at least some, honor into the night evaporated, He just can’t make this easy on me no matter what situation I’m in. Caira slowly turned back around to face the soldier-to-be whom had sunken against the wall in the wallows of his sobering sorrow and allowed her curious expression to prompt an explanation from him.
“In front of them, you could’ve beaten me while I was drunk. Surely, it would have redeemed you from earlier.” He spoke of her defeat which caused a pang of bitter taste to lather itself on her tongue. "So why?"
“I don’t see in what way it would have. There’s nothing just about punching some drunk guy in the face. If you don’t mind I prefer the battlefield, of sorts, though perhaps I would have if you made me taste my own blood.” She phrased her challenge lightly as opposed to calling him weak directly, “And, I’m a woman, so apparently there’s no need for me to get involved in petty bar fights.”
The Prime began to trot off from the man whom had recovered from his incapacitation rather quickly and called her back, “Oi. Being a girl doesn’t really matter, don’t listen to anything those idiots say.” He was right, Caira thought looking back on it, never once had Trevor given her a hard time about her feminine abilities, despite his quite obvious Prime-related issues.
“You’re a great swordsman.” She returned, and her lips formed a crescent-shaped smile.
![[Image: mqdefault.jpg]](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/yEac52Ck_1A/mqdefault.jpg)