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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on May 22, 2009 1:51:54 GMT -5
D'rorah arose even earlier than usual this morning. She had a task in mind... a follow-up to the conversation she had had several days previous with Sam Kelley. He had barged in on her haven--the library--and effectively demanded to join the war. She should have expected it. She had known Bryan had a younger brother and that they were close. It had only been a matter of time.
So now she intended to see just what he might be capable of if called upon to fight. In this war, the physical was as important as the magical. Wizards who had joined with Shadows... or even muggles who had been taken over by Shadows, possessed great strength and magic did not affect them. Elemental magic, Light magic... whatever the various Order members throughout the centuries had called it, was the only sort of magic that had any effect on them. And, unfortunately, there were only 10 people in the world at any given time capable of wielding that magic.
The only way to even the numbers was to find those who could fight. She had no illusions that Dark Phoenix would ever offer anything that could be called a "fair" fight, but D'rorah wanted to shore the odds up as much as she could. She had debated with Master Xiu at great length, positing that now was the time for the conflict to come out into the open. People needed to be warned so they could protect themselves. The disappearances and deaths that surrounded her at Hogwarts the past year weighed heavily on her conscience. She agreed that the existence of the Order itself should be protected... and that any Shadow Warriors or Elemental Masters Dark Phoenix didn't already know about should be kept secret... or perhaps not. Maybe this whole war would be best moved out into the open. But Master Xiu wouldn't agree. He had his reasons. Mostly, they were to do with the fact that Warriors of Light, Lightfighters, whatever they were called, were usually the first to come under suspicion of traditional magical authority whenever things went wrong. The blame went to those who were out in the open.
It had been a long debate conducted almost entirely mentally. He hadn't liked the method of communication, feeling her mind was too dark and tainted after the attack on her parents and her recent brushes with corruption... but there wasn't anything she knew of that she could do to solve that problem.
And so now she came to the morning. She wanted to bring everyone together. She had wanted to train the others, but they were so difficult to find, off on their own personal errands or trying to keep up with school or family, any of the myriad things that could intrude upon the time and peace of mind of human being. And all were compounded by the added stress and duty of being Lightfighters. If Sam Kelley wanted to be a part of their group, she would make him one... if he could prove himself to be useful, that was.
She showered and dressed in her training clothes, long pants paired with a pair of tennis shoes that laced securely and a shirt with a turtleneck and sleeves that reached to her wrists. She was in black from head to toe, the only interruption being pale white hands and a pale white face that peeked from her clothing. Her waist-length hair was roped into a long braid that had been wrapped and coiled atop her head. Normally, she would have dressed in her normal clothes to train... after all, that was likely what she would be fighting in. But today there would be running... and if she had her way, there would be miles of it. Boots would be impractical for that, as would her heavy robes. Her swords were strapped to her waist and everything was covered over with a heavy, warm cloak. After all, she couldn't be seen moving around the school with swords.
She double checked to ensure that her dorm-mates were still asleep. They slumbered peacefully, untroubled by nightmares or memories. At this ungodly hour of the morning, she wagered the entire castle would be fast asleep, which was what made it the perfect time to gather her newest fighter and begin his training. She stepped up onto the sill of the window and eased it open just a few inches before transfiguring into her animagus form, a small blue sparrow, and flitting out the window.
Her tiny wings were buffeted about by updrafts on the blustery morning, but she did not struggle with the wind. She allowed the soothing energy of her own elemental to carry her to the window she sought, the window to the dormitory which housed the 5th year Gryffindors. She wasn't exactly sure where she would find Sam, but that problem was easily enough solved by testing the mental energies in each room as she flew by. She didn't look into their thoughts... Sam, she thought, would be easily enough found without having to to search particularly hard.
Finding the window she sought, D'rorah landed lightly on the windowsill. She changed back to human form just long enough to pry the window slightly open before changing back and slipping through into the dormitory. Locating Sam's bed, she perched atop the bars of the four poster for a moment, waiting to make certain that everyone was slumbering deeply. It wouldn't do to have the Ravenclaw prefect found in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. A moment later, she made her way to the floor and changed herself back. A silencing charm was quietly murmured, ensuring she wouldn't wake the others and she placed a cold hand upon Sam Kelley's sleeping figure, tapping him lightly. [blue]"Your training begins today, Mister Kelley,"[/blue] she said loudly enough to get his attention, not worried about waking the others because of the silencing charm. [blue]"Out of bed."[/blue] She waited warily for a reaction, prepared to jump back or block an attack in case she had startled him.
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Sam Kelley
Gryffindor
[red]5th Year Gryffindor[/red] Elemental Master of Water
Posts: 67
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Post by Sam Kelley on May 22, 2009 17:37:16 GMT -5
The night had been like so many others that Sam had spent at Hogwarts. Avoiding a certain amount of homework throughout the evening while relaxing with those friends in the Gryffindor common room. He wasn’t sure how the other common rooms were, but he loved his, there was always something fun to do. Perhaps it was the vicarious nature of most of the house, but there was always entertainment to be found in one form or another. Last night had been a stair surfing competition. Sam hadn’t been the victor, but he had a strong showing at least. His nature didn’t see a third place finish as acceptable, but it was friendly competition and he accepted the result; if nothing else the boy was a sportsman.
Dreams had been nonexistent when he eventually laid down, so it was from the void of thoughtless sleep from which D’rorah roused the boy. There was no dramatic protest or attack to be had, a simple stirring and question as Sam wiped at his eyes. ”D’rorah?” he asked curiously, as if he searched for confirmation that the Ravenclaw girl was actually here now and not a figment of a dream. His head tilted curiously in response to her command, his eyes still blinking against the sleep that persisted there.
There he laid for a minute contemplating the scenario and soon offered a relenting nod. The Gryffindor wasn’t wild about the idea of a her visit and request, but this is what he had demanded of her and his reasonable mind realized that refusing her now would only serve to lend weight to any doubts she may have. With another understanding nod Sam wiped hard at his eyes and sprang to action, sitting up on the mattress. Part of the Gryffindor wanted to tell her to go away so that he could get back to his sleep, but even in his foggy state he understood well enough that this was what he had signed up for. He brought his arms above his head and flexed them in a tight stretch and yawned loudly. For the first time he examined the girl with his eyes and found himself a bit surprised at her appearance, specifically at the presence of swords at her sides. That was something that the boy had obviously missed in his assumptions of the order, assuming that magic was how battle was done. It was of no matter though, the time for such things mattering passed in those moments before he had forced his way into her group.
With tiredness still filling his movements Sam pulled on a pair of sweats and tight fitting grey t-shirt, his standard workout attire for morning runs, even though he seldom chose to run at this time of day as the afternoon was much more to his liking. Regardless, he resisted expressing such thoughts and quickly donned a pair of short socks and well worn running shoes.
Sam slipped a dark blue sweatband around his head and took another glanced over the Ravenclaw girl, unable to resist feeling a bit underdressed. He wore no cloak, he carried no weapons. In fact, he didn’t know how to use any weapons. He might’ve been a strong and athletic guy, but at no time in his football and quidditch training had there ever been martial weapon lessons.
”What’s the plan?” he asked as he looked up to her from the bed where he still sat. In that moment his mind began to come around and he started to process the logical question of how she had gotten into the dormitories when the passwords to the paintings were supposed to be secret. It didn’t matter really, his experiences with D’rorah thus far had suggested that she generally got her way and he probably would’ve been disappointed if something as simple as an enchanted painting would stop her.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on May 22, 2009 18:23:25 GMT -5
D'rorah nodded slightly as her name was said in a questioning manner. She figured her appearance was distinctive enough that he couldn't possibly mistake her for anyone else. This was the sort of untroubled awakening that accompanied sleep without nightmares, she figured as she untensed her posture. She was pleased she didn't have to argue him out of bed. That would have been more tedious than she was prepared to endure this morning.
She stepped back once he nodded and waited quietly as he sat up and stretched. She was glad she had thought of the silencing charm when his loud yawn pierced the silence of the room. That would make for interesting school gossip indeed... D'rorah in the dormitory of a Gryffindor student two years her younger. She wondered what Kerridon would have made of that one.
Her eyebrow arched sharply as he surveyed her appearance and she found his gaze lingered for an overly long moment at the swords strapped to her waist, visible for a moment beneath her overcloak. She found a window to occupy her gaze as Sam rose, giving him privacy to dress while she waited. Once it seemed his motion had stopped, she turned back to find him slipping on a sweatband as he once more considered D'rorah's dress.
[blue]"Sixth floor, the training room,"[/blue] she replied as he asked what the plan was. [blue]"First we run, then we see how malleable you are to my teaching methods."[/blue] She smirked and arched an eyebrow, enjoying baiting him for some reason. [blue]"I must compensate myself for the research time you interrupted the other day."[/blue] With that, she turned and headed for the door, planning to exit through the common room. There would be no one awake at this hour to notice her passing, or the fact that she was coming from the direction of the boys' dormitory. She stairs were quickly enough descended, her cloak billowing out around her in the still air of the stairwell.
The way to the Room of Requirement was a route she knew well, though she wasn't accustomed to approaching it from above. Even the paintings were asleep at this hour, she noted as they passed. That was just as well, considering she didn't want anyone taking note of their passage. Her gait was swift as they approached the sixth floor. Reaching about halfway down the corridor, she turned and passed it the requisite three times. The door bloomed into life, opening to reveal the anteroom that was used for meetings of the Lightfighters, adorned with a massive stone table in the center surrounded by ten chairs, each carved with the symbols of their elements. D'rorah did not pause here. Instead, she swiftly crossed to a door marked with the symbol for wind and opened it, beckoning for Sam to follow her inside. Inside, it was not like a room at all, but as if they had passed outside and were in a large, open field. Tall grasses and willow trees swayed in the perpetual breeze as a small stream bubble in the background. D'rorah threw off her cloak and carefully set her swords aside before checking the laces on her shoes to make sure they were securely fastened. She turned to Sam and gave him a baiting smile. [blue]"Do try to keep up, Mister Kelley,"[/blue] she remarked with a smirk before setting off on light feet with no particular destination in mind.
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Sam Kelley
Gryffindor
[red]5th Year Gryffindor[/red] Elemental Master of Water
Posts: 67
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Post by Sam Kelley on May 22, 2009 20:38:31 GMT -5
Sam nodded slightly as she explained the plan, unable to resist an eye roll at her musings of his malleability. He followed the girl obediently, opting to bite his tongue until they had cleared the Gryffindor common room. The last thing that he wanted to happen was to be discovered by someone and have to try and explain the girls presence. Somehow he figured that she would find a way to handle the situation so that it didn’t backfire on to her, but the whispers that would surely float around the common room for years to come would be his burden to bear.
As they passed through the corridors Sam’s mind dwelled on the presence of the swords at D’rorah’s hips. While he was an active and strong lad, the Gryffindor had never had any sort of weapons training and he made no assumptions that such skill would come naturally. The thought of being D’rorah’s plaything in weapons training brought a strain to the boys brain. She would enjoy such a thing far too much, that much of indisputable. She would no doubt make him wish that he had never enlisted many times over, but quitting was not an option. Sam knew that he would simply have to force himself to endure her amusement at his expense.
The Gryffindor shook the thoughts from his mind as they walked, opting to focus on another part of her earlier statement. ”Are you really complaining about a few minutes of interruption when you were sitting there with enough texts to fill the rest of my Hogwarts career?” he asked, being sure to emphasize the word my enough to adequately contrast their years. ”What are you doing with all that stuff anyway? Please tell me it’s not some pathetic Ravenclaw method of entertainment...” This tone wasn’t condescending exactly, but there was an element of distaste there, illustrating all too clearly that such things were not his forte and that he had no intention of attempting to remedy that truth anytime soon.
When the pair finally reached their destination Sam simply watched the girls actions, carefully committing them to memory. He had heard tales of this room during his tenure at the school, but never had he known the location of the fabled door or seen it appear. He quickly followed the Ravenclaw into the room and studied his surroundings with wide eyes. Bryan had no shared information of this place with him and instantly the boy was curious about what lay behind each of the doors, he didn’t even know what each symbol scrawled upon them symbolized.
Before he had much time to contemplate his surroundings further Sam was beckoned through the door and found himself in the middle of a lush field. As he saw D’rorah start to shed her extra articles he took the hint and began to stretch his toned and experienced legs. He couldn’t help but laugh at her baiting remark. ”You do know that this is kinda my thing, right? Quidditch isn’t my only sport, I play footie too. That’s like ninety minutes of running every game, are you sure this is a wise contest, Miss Philosophy?” he asked as he jogged with her, finding a comfortable stride where he could match his pace to her own. Sam was no fool, this was something that he partook in daily, so there would be no heroics of him sprinting ahead to somehow prove his superiority, only to be passed a laughed at a few miles later. No, he approached this as he did all of his conditioning and dug in for a long war. Generally this war was internal and fought against only himself, but D’rorah would prove an acceptable opponent today.
”So what exactly do you have in store for me today?" His voice was calm and controlled through his cadenced breaths.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on May 23, 2009 2:01:44 GMT -5
[blue]"It is good we are not relying on you to translate those texts if it would take the remainder of your Hogwarts career to do so, Mister Kelly."[/blue] There was a pause as D'rorah skipped a beat. [blue]"I intend to be finished with that particular stack within the next two weeks. That... stuff... is the knowledge of past generations of Lightfighters. It is being meticulously combed for information that will be helpful to our cause."[/blue] She turned to face him. [blue]"So perhaps you should consider yourself fortunate that I do find the work enjoyable, so that you are relieved from the possibility of having to participate any further than reaping the rewards of whatever knowledge I am able to gather from the texts."[/blue]
D'rorah pursed her lips and eyed him distastefully for a moment before removing her attention to prepare for exiting the dormitory. It always annoyed her that so many wished to ability without knowledge. Too often she had witnessed young monks training at the monastery who wanted to learn to fight, but did not seem to realize that the knowledge taught by the scribes was necessary first. Sam Kelley reminded her of those impetuous young monks... willing to skip through the parts they found disdainful and jump straight into only the parts that interested them.
But then, some of them had redeemed themselves by learning in other ways. She would give Sam his opportunity... he would have to prove an apt student. She wouldn't allow him to fight if he didn't live up to her standards. It would be far too dangerous to have him out fighting Shadows if he wasn't capable.
She smirked as he questioned the contest at hand. [blue]"Mister Kelley, I rarely enter into any contest I do not feel assured of winning. I have been running with trainees from the Order since before you were old enough to enter a youth league."[/blue] She laughed ironically. [blue]"And if, by some great miracle of circumstance, you surprise me... all the better."[/blue]
Seeing that he was easily keeping pace with her, she sped up slightly. [blue]"Conversation later, Mister Kelley. If you can speak, you are not yet running."[/blue] She fully expected he would again easily keep pace, but she intended to increase that pace until she found his limit. She was actually enjoying herself immensely. She had a feeling Sam would present her a challenge she hadn't had since coming to Hogwarts.
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Sam Kelley
Gryffindor
[red]5th Year Gryffindor[/red] Elemental Master of Water
Posts: 67
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Post by Sam Kelley on May 23, 2009 6:13:29 GMT -5
With practiced proficiency Sam inhaled steadily through his nose and expelled the breath forcefully and fully through his mouth. Most might not realize that there was a system for proper breathing during such activity, but years of training and play had taught the Gryffindor differently. Of course, the term athlete carried a different meaning in the world that he grew up in than it generally did in the wizarding world. To most wizards an athlete was a quidditch player, which Sam was also, but that game really didn’t require much physique as the boy saw it. Sure, one had to be in shape to endure the attrition of the sport and perform their assigned task, but the brooms shouldered much of the burden. This wasn’t to say that he didn’t acknowledge quidditch as a sport, as a passionate player he knew it to be sporting well enough. However, it wasn’t as athletically pure as football, quidditch was more football with an element of formula one racing blended in or even that NASCAR that the yanks across the pond seemed to love so much.
Sam had an advantage over most wizard athletes in that he also competed in the muggle world where the primary sports relied on ones body alone. There were two fourty-five minute halves to a football game and it wasn’t uncommon for a striker to run ten kilometers or more in a single match. It was the ultimate endurance sport and it had been a part of the boys life since before he began muggle primary school. From Sam’s experience he never allowed himself to underestimate an opponent and even now he silently vowed not to commit such a rookie mistake with D’rorah. He expect that he would equal or better her in this challenge, yet he would grant her the respect that a competitor deserved. If nothing else, Sam Kelley was a sportsman at heart.
As time passed and the run continue, the boy remained strong. He had begun to settle into that zone that had become so familiar over the years, the only thing that seemed to be missing was the enchanted iPod that he generally carried on his runs. Logistical shortcomings aside, he remained in proper form, his style well into the workout mirroring that as when he began. There was a system to proper running which Sam possessed a solid understanding of. Proper leg extension, full range backstride and kick, good posture, appropriate arm positioning and movement, controlled breathing. His practiced mind didn’t pause to analyze everything as it moved, the auditing of these variables becoming automatic long ago.
Sam wasn’t sure how far the pair had covered on their spirited run, but without his familiar music or thrill of a match, his mind begged for a bit of entertainment, provoking him to breach the silence that had up until now held only their audible breaths. ”So Dee...” he began, taking the liberty of addressing the girl in the way that Bryan referred to her. ”Are you going to train me to use swords like those?”
The weapons that she had left back at their starting point had been a topic of curiosity ever since he first noticed them in his dorm room. Training as a martial warrior wasn’t something that Sam had considered as part of this thing, but it wasn’t something that he found unappealing either. He had always been at home in the realm of physical activity and physical combat seemed to fit well enough.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on May 23, 2009 9:52:58 GMT -5
D'rorah felt blood singing through her veins as she ran. The rhythmic fall of her footsteps, her steady breathing, all of it beat with the cadence of a drum line in her mind. It was a pattern of eighth notes with the metronome set at 120 beats per minute. She could even see her mother in her mind, fingers perched beside D'rorah's on the keys of the piano. To the background of that beat, to the notes of rising and falling scales on the piano, she conjugated verbs in her mind. She had had to find something to focus on whenever she trained at the Order--at least when they ran. Master Xiu would run his trainees until they were certain they were going to fall over, that their bodies would not carry them another step, and then ordered them to keep going. It was the ghost of her mother's image in her mind that had spurred D'rorah to even further heights after her parents had died... she had run herself until her legs had completely given out several times the following summer and had found herself carried back to the monastery by a young trainee sent to fetch her.
She hadn't been able to do such at Hogwarts. And, under the careful guidance of the masters, she'd lost the desire to run away from the horror of everything that had happened. She had been berated a few times for challenging the trainees her age to various contests... either of wit or of sport. In her mind, it was clear that they needed to push harder for the battles that lay ahead... she was just providing a bit of motivation. But Master Xiu had been the one to point out that she was allowing anger and grief to pollute her thinking, that she wasn't showing compassion for the others when she brutalized their morale by constantly challenging everyone in everything. To teach her the lesson she needed, she had been pitted against Master Xiu himself.
He hadn't been merciful. At least, he had shown her as much mercy as she had shown the other monks and trainees. His words as he stood over her, his sword poised for a strike that would have been fatal, had never left her since that day. [green]"Build your allies up, D'rorah. Do not break them down unless it is for the purpose of rebuilding them so they are stronger."[/green] And so now, she was building Sam up. So far, he was the first who had shown much inclination for the physical training. His voice intruded into her thinking as he spoke up.
[blue]"Are you speaking again, Mister Kelley?"[/blue] She queried, unable to suppress her annoyance at the shortening of her name. [blue]"I may train you with them in time... for now, I would rather not see you slice yourself to ribbons... for your brother's sake."[/blue] She pushed the pace yet again, intending to see just how hard he would run. She also began gently curving their path so that they were making a wide arc. The coiled braid atop her head had begun to work itself loose already, her hairpins boycotting the constant motion of footfall after relentless footfall. It swayed with the motion of her body. As they came around, she couldn't see their starting point, though the day was clear and the terrain was flat. They had already run several miles, their entire circuit would be a bit more than a half marathon at this point. None of the others, she was certain, would have been with her this far.
She could appreciate Sam Kelley's abilities, even though she wasn't terribly fond of his mouth. As they finally came around until they were pointed back toward their origin, she laughed. By her mental figuring, they had another four miles before they returned to their origin. [blue]"I propose a contest for the remaining distance, Mister Kelley. If you win, I shall answer any question you like for the remainder of the day. And you may even address me by that wretched nickname."[/blue] She paused and breathed deeply, making her lungs keep up with her legs. [blue]"And if I win, you speak only when spoken to and address me only by my proper name."[/blue]
She waited for some confirmation or assent before taking off, throwing the most speed she knew she could sustain for that distance into her legs and then pushing herself slightly harder. She had no intention of being called "Dee" by Sam Kelley if she could avoid it.
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Sam Kelley
Gryffindor
[red]5th Year Gryffindor[/red] Elemental Master of Water
Posts: 67
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Post by Sam Kelley on May 23, 2009 20:10:56 GMT -5
Even those most practiced and poised at something began to show wear over time and that certainly described the Gryffindor as he continued to pace D’rorah. The boy was conditioned for kilometers of running at a time, but even in football there were small breaks to be taken here and there. He was no marathon runner. The headband that rested above his brow had become saturated a few times over, forcing him to remove it and squeeze the moisture out of it on multiple occasions. His body had not yet begun actively rejecting the level that the girl was pushing it to, but it was certainly starting to protest a bit, the first indication being a rather substantial cramp that was beginning to make itself known in the boys side.
Sam couldn’t resist a smirk amid his heavy breaths at the girls reaction to his inquiry. He offered no direct response to her, but that smirk remained as he contemplated her words. It was an amusing dynamic he thought, that bit of tension. He was obviously not D’rorah’s first choice of a teammate, but he had to give her credit for playing the hand that she was dealt. The ability to roll with the punches of life was probably the most important thing that sports had taught Sam. You wouldn’t always find yourself in the most favorable conditions, but you had to make the best of it and find a way to win or perish. It was a harsh reality that transposed perfectly into life, life certainly was not fair and even the fifteen year old boy understood that well enough.
A ragged laugh passed Sam’s lips at her proposal and in turn forced a small wince, the cramp in his side not appreciating the jesting gesture. ”For the rest of the day...” he added quickly. ”I will speak only when spoken to for the rest of the day.” Sam grinned a bit, wondering if he had caught a caveat that the Ravenclaw had tried to sneak in on him or he had misheard. Regardless, clarifying the terms wasn’t a bad thing. After granting to girl a few seconds of silence to fully hear and process his addendum to the arrangement, he took a deep breath.
”Alright, go!” he said in a heightened tone. In the interest of sportsmanship and either winning or losing this thing fairly, Sam silently counted to three before he kicked hard and increased his pace and tapping into that last bit of energy he could manage. Win or lose, it would end the way his contests always ended, with him fighting to the bitter end. In his peripheral vision Sam could see the girl battling as well and the way that they seemed to trade the lead back and forth, the boy knew it was anyones race.
In the second the pair passed the finish line marked by her weapons and cloak, the Gryffindor’s observant eyes captured the result, yet he was in no shape to acknowledge or even consider it at the moment. His stride broke and he cruised to stop just before collapsing back into the lush grass of the field. On his back he lay with his feet still on the ground and knees bent skyward, just as he did following his daily runs around the lake. Breaths came hard and loud, a cough or two even managing to work themselves in. Sam brought his arms up above his head and pulled at his elbows with his hands, trying urgently to stretch out the cramps that had wrenched the sides of his abdomen for the last few minutes. He was ignorant of his opponent in this time of recovery, paying mind only to his drained body.
((I’ll leave it to you to determine the outcome, I'm on board with whatever you decide. :-)))
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on May 23, 2009 21:12:02 GMT -5
[blue]"Very well,"[/blue] replied D'rorah as Sam clarified that he would only speak when spoken to for the remainder of the day. He was very keen, that much at least reassured her a bit further of the decision to allow him into the group. As he raised his voice to issue the verbal starting pistol, she jumped into action alongside him. He was more than a fair opponent, even pulling ahead of her several times. The lead went back and forth as they battled out those last four miles. D'rorah, determined to give this run her absolute best, dug in deep and pushed herself in a way she hadn't to in a while. Yes, she would be training with Sam often. She could already see that.
She could see her swords and cloak in the distance as they approached the last half-mile. She kept them within her sight, focusing solely on that goal to distract her from limbs that were ready for a rest after this race. She found herself ahead by only a half pace and fought to keep that lead, but found herself neck and neck with Sam by the time they were fifty yards from their goal. Her breath was hard and fast as she pumped her legs furiously. And yet, when they were so close to the final finish, Sam pulled slightly ahead to finally claim the victory in their contest.
D'rorah noted the result, but was unable to do much more than that. She ran only a few steps past her cloak before breaking stride and being propelled into the grass. She fought to regain her breath, her chest heaving as she stared up at the sky. Carefully, she stretched out her body, not wanting the muscles that had been newly released from their vigorous efforts to get any ideas about knotting up now that she had stopped. She paid little attention to Sam for several minutes, and finally pushed herself up from the ground with her arms into a sitting position when her breathing had calmed a bit, though it was still rather fast.
[blue]"Well played, Mister Kelley,"[/blue] she remarked between heavy breaths. [blue]"It has been some time since anyone has beaten me in a foot race."[/blue] For the first time in months, she wasn't cold. Even the chill of shadow corruption hadn't been able to withstand that contest. She savored the feeling for a moment, knowing that it wouldn't last very long. Sure enough, by the time her breathing had slowed to a normal rate, she found herself shivering as her body temperature once again plummeted.
Finally feeling as though she would be able to stand without her legs giving way, D'rorah rose from the ground on which she sat. She wondered what time it might be... mostly wondering how much time they would have before they both had to start thinking about getting ready for classes. She figured it was probably still too early for many people to be up and about, given the ungodly hour at which she had woken Sam to begin their training. [blue]"So then Mister Kelley, I suppose I am... Dee for the remainder of the day."[/blue] She curled her lip slightly as she spoke the moniker. [blue]"I shall have to find an equally irritating manner in which to address you."[/blue] She gathered her cloak and wrapped it tightly around herself for warmth. [blue]"We should begin with choosing a weapon for you... unless you were serious about wishing to learn swordcraft."[/blue] She made her way over to the door they had come through, expecting Sam to follow. Returning to the anteroom, she made her way over to a wall holding a mind-boggling array of weaponry. The room provided well for training new fighters.
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Sam Kelley
Gryffindor
[red]5th Year Gryffindor[/red] Elemental Master of Water
Posts: 67
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Post by Sam Kelley on May 24, 2009 1:33:14 GMT -5
In those minutes in which the only sound audible were those of frantic breathing and slight groans of soreness, Sam closed his eyes and did his best to push his mind away from the small pains that found their way into his body. The first thought that came to his mind was the Hufflepuff girl that he had met just the day prior. However, it wasn’t the thought of a friendly face that he reached for now but the serenity of the setting. He thought not on the hard earned victory or the respectful rivalry that he and d’rorah had just forged, but it was the peace of the lake that called to him now. As he visualized his favorite place on campus, the boys breathing slowly approached what might be recognizable as controlled and he continued fumbling with that control until the sounds of his companion stirring snapped him back to the present.
His eyes slowly opened and the Gryffindor peered to the girl, opting not to matching the gesture of sitting up. Sam nodded in respectful acknowledgement of the compliment. ”Thank you,” he uttered in a low breathy tone. While it was certainly in character for the lad to talk friendly trash with an opponent before a game, he was always a gracious winner, a product of competing since an early age. He loved it regardless of sport, it was the spirit of competition that ensnared his interest and win or lose, he respected that spirit. Also, if his early feel for D’rorah was anywhere near correct, the boy knew all too well that this certainly wouldn’t be the last of their races; as different as the pair might appear, at this moment it was getting to see potential areas of similarity. ”I’ve not gotten such a run in a long time. You’re deceptively fast.” Thinking back to that meeting in the library, Sam had to admit that he had underestimated the Ravenclaw, pegging her as the standard shut in like so many of her housemates.
At last he sat up as she spoke again, unable to resist a grin and mischievous expression when he glanced in her direction. For a moment he was dead silent, his mind silently looking back over the experience. ”Actually...I’m pretty sure that you’re Dee whenever I decide now,” he said at last with a confident nod. ”As I recall, there wasn’t a one day remark on the part about the nickname. Also, you’ll remember that I only mentioned the one day clarification on the part about my questions and not the requirement that I call you by your full name, as that was accepted to be a permanent agreement.”
Sam fell silent immediately after presenting his case, watching for the reaction it stirred in the girl. He was right and he knew it, but watching the realization dawn on her was far too sweet a prospect for him to cheapen. Had this issue arisen from a written contract or text, the Gryffindor wouldn’t have a prayer of fending for himself, due to the general aversion programmed into his mind for academics. However, he was an observant lad and when it came to tangible situations, he held his own quite well. The marks awarded by Hogwarts may have painted Sam in a particular way, but viewed under the correct light, those colors bled.
He shrugged a bit at her comment on finding an annoying nickname for him, but it wasn’t something that drew any true concern. Sam was a name shortener, firmly believing that fewer syllables were always best. His own name stood as a perfect example, considering that he name not bee addressed as Samuel for years, disregarding those times that his parents were angry enough to yell out his full name. The Hufflepuff prefect that he met the day prior had been addressed as Caity and at times he had been known to call his older brother Bry. It was simply how the boy operated.
Sam carefully climbed to his feet and followed the Ravenclaw back through the door and into the room. How eyes were immediately drawn to the arsenal along the wall as he contemplated her inquiry. ”Well, I don’t have any real experience have to worry about working around, so I suppose the answer is yes. A sword seems just as good as any other, something strong yet elegant and precise, not clumsy.” He nodded to himself while he thought out loud, his feet stepping parallel to the wall and his eyes examining the armaments.
”I don’t think I’d be good with two blades like yours though, that’s a little too much finesse and I think I’m more strong than agile.” The corner of his mouth drew up a bit and he gave the question serious thought. Sam had never before contemplated such things or even gotten any real fight outside of schoolyard scuffles, so it was athleticism that he called on now to analyze the facts. Just as he would audit various factors for a proper broom for quidditch or shoes for football, he took all of those same variables into consideration now, applying them to combat as best as his young mind could.
”Maybe something like this?” he asked, eliciting her experienced opinion as he reached forward and wrapped his hand around a sword like he had seen in the kung fu movies he always loved so much. The grip of the sword was long enough to accommodate two hands and the whole thing felt lighter than he had expected. The thin blade was long, nearly three quarters of a meter in length and a beautiful curve resided along its length. ”What do you think, D’rorah? Could I adequately cut myself to ribbons with this?”
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on May 24, 2009 3:59:40 GMT -5
D'rorah smirked as Sam remarked that she was deceptively fast. [blue]"My element is Wind, Mister Kelley. One would expect a certain amount of speed on that account."[/blue] Her smirk eased into a good-natured smile, something that wasn't often found to grace her features. [blue]"But thank you."[/blue]
The last traces of that smile shifted to annoyance as he remarked that she would be Dee whenever he decided. [blue]"Next time I shall be more specific. It was my intention that the temporal limitation would apply to all of the terms of the contest. Such contractual assumptions are common within the legal word. However, have however you see fit. I shall win that privilege back from you during our next training session."[/blue] She wasn't going to get into a lengthy debate over this. She intended that he wouldn't keep the lead next time. She never had liked the custom others had of shortening her name to nothing more than a letter. She had grown up around much more formal methods of address and didn't expect she would ever lose the habit of addressing others in the manner she was accustomed to. What others chose to call her, however, she had little control over.
She listened as Sam contemplated his choice of weapon and noted that he chose to use her full first name. She wasn't sure if that had been a slip or an intentional offering of some sort. She eyed the blade he held and put out her own hand. [blue]"May I?"[/blue] she asked, waiting until the sword had been handed to her to step back and test the balance and try a few quick forms. [blue]"I suppose this should do for cutting yourself to ribbons today, Mister Kelley,"[/blue] she replied as she considered the weapon in her hand. [blue]"However, if you decide you wish to train with a sword, we shall replace it soon with a weapon crafted for you. The balance in this one is adequate, but I have seen better. I suppose it would be foolish to expect this room to provide a weapon of the quality I would expect from the Order's weapon master."[/blue]
She handed the hilt of the sword back to Sam and turned to lead the way back into the room of Elemental Wind. She left her own swords aside. They would begin this morning with forms which didn't include weapons. After all, it was necessary to have the basics before one moved on to more advanced forms of fighting. She bowed to Sam and took up a position facing him. [blue]"Mirror my movements, Mister Kelley,"[/blue] she instructed calmly as she began to move through the first set of forms, eyes keen for even the slightest mistake, just as Master Xiu's eyes had been relentlessly keen when she had begun training.
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Sam Kelley
Gryffindor
[red]5th Year Gryffindor[/red] Elemental Master of Water
Posts: 67
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Post by Sam Kelley on May 24, 2009 7:04:40 GMT -5
Sam eyed the blade curiously as he balanced it in his hand. It was so light and agile that it nearly caught him off guard and the flat of the blade nearly smacked him on the forehead, prompting a classically mischievous grin in D’rorah’s direction as he quickly regained control of the blade. ”I could use this in one hand and use a wand in the other if the situation called for it,” he remarked thoughtfully while his eyes traced up and down the smooth curve of the katana.
Sam carefully handed the weapon to the Ravenclaw upon request and listened to her with interest when she spoke on the item. He offered up a small nod at the mention of balance. He didn’t have the experience yet to grasp the important of balance fully, but the earlier incident served as enough of a lesson for now. For a moment he could feel a rush of excitement going through him at the prospect of learning to fight in this style. It was just so new and neat, it certainly fed his Gryffindorish nature.
”I’m guessing that this isn’t something you just pick up at the corner market, eh? The boy grinned in the wake of the remark and looked to the girl’s face. Part of him knew it was a foolish search, hoping to find a sign of amusement there but he still had to try. He obviously knew such a thing wasn’t exactly standard issue, he had seen the movies and even though he assumed it wouldn’t exactly be as in film, Sam’s mind couldn’t help but jokingly picture them tracking down Hattori Hanzo in Okinawa and convincing him to forge them a blade that would cut God himself when D’rorah mentioned a weapons master.
With a nod Sam renewed his grip on the weapon and followed D’rorah back into the room of wind. ”That’s something I don’t quite get...” he remarked out of the blue as she bowed. He mimicked the motion like he was told, his mind again briefly harkening back to the noble warriors of film. As the Gryffindor began following D’rorah’s lead, he found himself unable to resist completing his thought, something that would no doubt piss her off to no end, yet he opted to speak out anyway. ”Earlier you said that your element is wind, what exactly do you mean by that? I mean, I’ve heard you call Bryan an elemental master and I don’t really get that either. But how do you know what element you are? Is it something you just know if you are or not or is it like a zodiac type thing where everybody gets one for whatever reason?” As elementary as the question may have been to what he had enlisted in, Sam never had really gotten the full run down on exactly what the order was or what composed it. Everything had been kept in generalities up unto this point and now that he was starting to get into things a bit, his mind found itself curious, especially since he had won a free pass on questions for the day.
As far as the boys movements went, there were plenty of errors to be found, but he did watch closely and try correct them as quickly as he was able even while speaking.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on May 24, 2009 11:16:47 GMT -5
D'rorah arched an eyebrow as Sam nearly smacked himself in the forehead with the flat of the blade, pursing her lips slightly as he shot her a mischievous grin. [blue]"Generally the idea is to attack one's opposition, Mister Kelley. Your brother will be quite put out with me if I allow you to decapitate yourself."[/blue]
His remark about not finding the weapon at a corner market earned another arched eyebrow. [blue]"I suppose that would be depend on what corner and what market one decides to patronize."[/blue] She heard the blade swoop through the air as she tested it a few more times. [blue]"Metal like this will never sing,"[/blue] she remarked regretfully as she handed the sword back to Sam. There was a certain tone she had trained herself to hear whenever she practiced. Blades had their own song when made well and handled properly.
Again he was speaking. She would have to make a note to be more selective when giving this Kelley free reign to talk. Even as she bowed to him, his lips opened to ask something he didn't understand. And as she began moving him through the forms, he began a narrative of asking questions. [blue]"You would talk a rock to exhaustion, Mister Kelley. How fortunate for me that I received the quieter of the two brothers as my Elemental Master. Your mind would drive me to insanity with its constant turnings."[/blue] Her gaze was stern as she corrected an error. It became sterner as she corrected it a second time and she followed up with a blow to his shoulder. [blue]"Master Xiu would fasten your mouth shut to make you focus,"[/blue] she remarked as she again demonstrated the problematic form.
He was free to ask, but that didn't mean she had to answer immediately. And so, she began answering questions slowly, whenever his progress pleased her. Given that insatiable Gryffindor curiosity, she figured this would be effective motivation. [blue]"Every person is born with an inclination to favor the qualities of a certain element,"[/blue] she began finally, deciding to answer his question. [blue]"Most never know what their element is... however, you might imagine that many of the best herbologists are of earth and many alchemists and such are of metal."[/blue] She paused, issuing another correction. [blue]"The Order of Light--the organization you charged so boldly into--makes a duty of identifying those who have particularly strong ties to their respective elements. Many of those who are identified are trained at the monastery and go on to become monks, masters, scribes of the Order. They preserve the traditions, skills, and knowledge of the Order."[/blue] She paused again to issue another correction. [blue]"The beginnings of the Order are traced to a legend regarding a struggle between two great powers... Yin, the creator of Light; and Yang, the creator of Dark. In order for the world to exist, it is necessary to have both Light and Darkness in balance, in harmony. The task of the Order is to protect that balance. Yang, however, was not interested in sharing the realms. He wished to control them, to spread darkness so that it enveloped all."[/blue] She paused again as she corrected Sam's form. She was minute, precise exacting, and she would accept no less than perfection.
[blue]"Yang placed the powers of Darkness within one creature, his Shadow Mage. The current Mage, by the information I have, has been in this realm for some four centuries now, perhaps six. She started out as an ordinary witch, but was identified by Yang and taught to use Shadow Magic... she is now more darkness than human."[/blue] D'rorah struck Sam's midsection as she located a weakness in the form he was practicing, expecting him to correct himself this time. [blue]"Yin, however, divided the power of Light between five elements. He felt that placing it all within one person would pollute and weaken it. He understood an inherent value in the strength of people coming together and forming bonds between one another. For each Element, he created two guardians. An Elemental Master, the one capable of wielding absolute authority over his Element; and a Shadow Warrior, tasked with defending her Elemental Master and given the ability to wield Shadow Magic."[/blue] Another correction, then a cycle back to the beginning of the forms they were practicing, faster this time.
[blue]"So then, at any one time there are ten individuals in this realm who have this strong connection to their Element. We are the ones tasked with maintaining... or restoring balance. Previous generations have always been able to hold off the Mage's attempts to cause a permanent shift in the direction of Darkness, but not for many centuries have they been able to actually defeat the Mage. The first generation of Lightfighters banished Yang from the realm. The Mage seeks to bring him here so that he can claim the realm for his own. Our hope is to destroy this current Mage before she does this... otherwise, our world will fall into Darkness and decay. Realms that have lost balance are dismal, uninhabitable places."[/blue] She offered another correction and ceased speaking. She was certain Sam would have more questions... it seemed to be his specialty.
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Sam Kelley
Gryffindor
[red]5th Year Gryffindor[/red] Elemental Master of Water
Posts: 67
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Post by Sam Kelley on May 25, 2009 15:54:25 GMT -5
Sam couldn’t help but laugh at D’rorah’s remarks on his talkative nature. The contrast between he and his older brother had been something that had been noted since they were young children, but something about seeing it boggle the Ravenclaw’s mind made it that much more amusing. ”Bryan just chooses to talk through his drawings is all, I’ve listened to him for years through them. And awwwww...how can you say that, Dee? he asked, now consciously using the nickname he had recently won rights to. ”I’d make an amazing elemental master for you to have to endure...” he let out a small laugh at he continued to follow her motions, his mind noting how she was having to endure him regardless of his position, completely unaware of the mental link she shared with his brother.
The movements of the exercise came more easily as Sam listened to the girl tell of the history of the shadow war, causing even Sam to recognize that he didn’t multitask as well as he thought he did. This was something completely new, it asn’t football or quidditch that he had played all his life, but something that would take true dedication to learn.
Actually hearing the full story for the first time made the entire scenario seemed so much more real. Up until now he had been operating under cryptic statements and doomsday warnings, but hearing the actual account of things served to firm things up and drive home how serious this thing that he and Bryan were now involved in really was. ”So you’re the best at what you do, right?” he asked, his tone noticeably less jovial than before. In that moment his mind had firmed up and looked to the true possibilities of things and above all Sam knew he didn’t want to lose his brother and he especially didn’t want to have to break that news to the family. That pride he had felt earlier at hearing how Bryan was an important figure waned a bit. He was still proud of the older boy, but being important also made one a higher priority to ones enemy. Sam’s jaw tightened a bit in the wake of the question and he looked downward, watching himself move through the steps, his mind focusing, making the forms that much more accurate to example and fluid.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on May 25, 2009 16:46:39 GMT -5
D'rorah scoffed as Sam stated that he would make an amazing Elemental Master for her to have to endure. [blue]"I prefer my peace and quiet, Mister Kelley. I believe I would drive myself to near corruption closing our connection to escape the constant chatter of your mind."[/blue] She pursed her lips as she finished speaking, still not thrilled with being called "Dee"... but then, it seemed to have become a common habit. Perhaps the successive R's in D'rorah were simply more trouble than most English tongues were willing to endure for the simple courtesy of properly addressing someone.
She did notice that his performance improved the less he talked and almost felt inclined to speak through the remainder of the training session. However, she never had been one to enjoy talking merely for the sake of hearing herself talk. She found cause to strike him again as he spoke up with another question, delivering a swift blow to his shoulder. [blue]"It is amazing to note how much your performance improves when you are quiet, Mister Kelley. Or perhaps you enjoy speaking so that I have an opportunity to hit you."[/blue] She stepped back and bowed again, pleased with his progress despite her complaints. [blue]"I have my talents,"[/blue] she answered finally. [blue]"I never assume that I am the best at anything I undertake. Such assumptions have a curious way of defeating themselves."[/blue]
She stepped away and gathered her swords, regarding them for a moment as she debated whether it would be worthwhile to start training Sam with his sword on this particular morning. She still wished to go through a round of practice with hers, which she couldn't do if she was training him... but then when one never knew when the next attack would come from the Mage, it made little sense to delay training any more than she had to. [blue]"A short session with your new sword should help you acclimate yourself to handling it,"[/blue] she said as she turned back to face him. Her jaw tensed as she considered the idea of Sam with a sword. [blue]"For this part, either you train in silence or I will be forced to have you use a training blade. Considering that you have already smacked yourself with it once today, I believe it best to be very prudent regarding your safety."[/blue] She arched her eyebrow at him, as though daring him to object, before turning away to set one of her own swords aside.
She waited for him to face her with his own sword before bowing carefully. Slowly, painstakingly, she began to run him through the most basic forms with his sword, correcting his stance and his grip with intricate precision. She had him complete the same movement exhaustively, until she was satisfied that it was perfect. It was only a blocking motion, purely defensive. [blue]"Posture, Mister Kelley!"[/blue] she ordered as they went through the same motion for perhaps the fortieth time. She reached out and corrected the positioning of his sword by a fraction of an inch, her gaze stern. The difference was minute, almost unnoticeable, but she was unwilling to let it pass.
Finally, satisfied that the move was perfect, she stepped back and bowed again. [blue]"I believe that should suffice for this morning. Well done, Mister Kelley."[/blue] She gathered her other sword and threw him a long, appraising glance. [blue]"I train here every morning, if you are so inclined as to join me. Good day."[/blue] She turned and walked several meters away before assuming the very starting posture she had just taken with Sam. She still needed to get her own practice in for this morning. Carefully, she began going through the forms, one flowing into the next, her moves becoming swifter the longer she progressed. She focused only on the training at hand, forcing herself to be both speedy and precise until she reached the point that the metal of her dual swords sang as they sliced through the air. The entire demonstration became more and more acrobatic and intricate as she progressed into more complicated motions. After perhaps forty-five minutes of straight motion, she stopped and became dead still. Brandishing her wand, she conjured a sparring dummy with its own set of swords and animated it. It wouldn't be as good as an actual sparring partner, but it was the best thing available right now. She set in with determination as she began to fight the dummy before her, fighting it as mercilessly as she would face any real foe. As such, it didn't take much to dispatch it. Pursing her lips slightly, she bowed to the fallen piece of equipment before banishing it with her wand and sheathing her swords.
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