The peace that formerly reigned in Terra Nova has eroded, now little more than a memory. War ravages the continent. Disputes divide kingdoms; ideals divide families. The quest for power consumes absolutely and indiscriminately. None are immune to its allure.
Who will rise and who will fall? Only time—and ambition—will tell.
New gifted family of Lorendale added to the Families of Importance, the Decarlos!
At the beginning of February 2022 the site will experience a 5 year time jump! The IC year will jump from 822 to 827! This gives us about 8 months to prepare our characters for that jump. We plan to host very intentional planning sessions to help everyone get their plots and characters ready for this! As of this moment, one thing you should all start considering is making sure the threads your characters are in are furthering your character's stories.
Tempest did not miss that flush to her cheeks when she brought up Stone and then a rather impish smile crossed her face, 'Have you have a chance to spar with Stone? Or wrestle?" she asked, her tone wholly teasing and playful. She was rather sure that Stone had only ever been with herself but she could be wrong, he was a good man, kind and strong. So she did not doubt in the slightest that he had men and women wanting him.
She was ready, watching her as she was able to black each strike making the sound of wood hitting wood echo around them, "Good! Again but faster, you have strength in you so use it," Tempest ordered her. It wasn't often she gave orders out but she was trying to ramp her up, get her moving with the staff as if it was an extension of her own body. She would be a fighter yet!
If Etta didn't, Tempest would start to swing at her to try and make her block her strikes. She was going slow, letting her see and work to anticipate her moves but the driver would not hesitate to knock her right back down on her rump if it was needed!
Etta had halfway stammered through about as much of a refutation as she could manage, and she was actually deeply grateful for the distraction of the training to avoid following that line of conversation. Glimpsing Tempest's knowing little look would probably have only made things more embarrassing if Etta realized she had her own moments of damning transparency, so it was probably for the best that Etta kept her eyes on the staves, scooting back a little, her heels barely touching the ground, now. A firm stance was probably good if she was going to try to block a hit, but if swings were coming her way, her instincts preferred to get out of the way.
It was a weird spike of determination to push all thoughts of Stone as thoroughly out of her mind as possible that made her bring the staff down in another arc, this time without the worried hesitation that she would accidentally hurt someone.
"Oh, you two do something else together then?" she asked, the obvious tease in her voice as she grinned at her. Yep, she could see a crush a mile away and this was one on someone she knew rather well- this might be a lot more fun than she imagined it would be.
Tempest would keep defending and attacking and in a moment she wanted to see how she would react to actually landing a hit, the drive would move her staff just enough to block one hit while Etta landed one rather squarely on the Adoi drivers shoulder with a thud. No matter her reaction- or Alva's, Tempest would then drop her staff lower and aim to around the backs of her legs and his the soft spot behind her knees to try and drop her.
Maybe she should just let Tempest clock her upside the head with a staff and put an end to everything. It was the second-best option after hoping the earth would just open up and gulp her into it, never to be heard from again. If Tempest could see it, could everyone see it? Or, if not everyone, just enough people to pity her? Did Stone see it?
But there was hardly any time for Etta to brood over the mortifying possibilities as she still had to keep her focus on her weapon, her hands, her feet...and this time, she remembered what happened if Tempest's staff got in behind her, so she did her best to block it with her own, and twisted sideways to try to spare her lower legs.
"We--we talk, sometimes," she said, her breaths puffing into pants at the continual effort to evade, to block, to try to strike back...and to say something because silence felt like it would say more than she wanted to.
Tempest was relaxed with this, tense but relaxed all the same as she worked her movements to defend and attack. Mostly, she wondered if Etta had tried anything yet, tried to get his attention or anything. There was no jealousy about it, just curiosity if she needed a little nudge in the right direction or a helping toss into his lap- that alone made her chuckle some to herself.
"Good! You're a fast learner," she praised her as she managed to block the staff from tripping her up again. Tempest would now start to actually move, no longer staying stagnate in one spot but moving her body and adding more power to her blows that she landed on Etta.
"He's good...at talking and listening," she told her as she struck at her again and aimed for her hip, "He's also very calm in the mind...so if you need sound advice...he's good to go to," she told her between strikes. Tempest was silently happy at how well Etta was picking this up, even if it was only one style, she could learn others as the days went on.
All too briefly Etta let herself believe she'd carried her excuses off convincingly enough, but no...she was now fighting a double-bout against her own physical ineptitude and her emotional weak-spot that took the shape of a Kushti driver. At least some bastard from Coheed would've killed her quickly...this was some kind of torture.
She grit her teeth together in half a wince as she took a smart smack to her hip, but kept pushing herself to block what shots she could.
"I suppose that's why most people seem to like him," she said, her breathing slightly ragged between her words. "You're a good teacher," she added with a smile, both for honesty's sake and in the hopes of finding another subject for conversation. "Arlo's always been better than me at this sort of thing." Although the decade of an age difference probably had as much to do with that as anything else.