A Novice Vagrant [Open]

[Victor Lark]

“Fair enough,” he rejoined, curious as to the purpose of sinking but far more preoccupied with formulating a lesson plan in his head. In response to the question of sequence, Victor volunteered without words. He simply kicked his own foot out from under him and suddenly he was on the ground. His body bent fluidly, if not oddly, as his legs tossed over his head. In the next second, his feet touched the ground behind him and he pulled himself to standing a few feet away from where had started.

True, the two-second tumble was a braggart’s show of a frivolous talent, but Victor was not about to admit that. He explained, “The first trick is to use your fall’s momentum against it. Rolling through a punch puts less of the force on yourself. If you lose your balance, let it take you down. To try and stay standing, more often than not, makes a fool of you.” The tone of his voice suggested that he spoke from experience.

He was not sure whether his new student thought himself too old to try the rolling recovery, so instead he continued by offering something simpler. “The second trick is to guard your joints. Your ankles and wrists, knees and elbows are most fragile. If you lose your balance, pull your weight to one side and land on your thigh, or the fat of your arm, if you can.” His words narrated his movements. With his arms out for balance, Victor demonstarted by touching the length of his calf to the stone and then falling to sit on his thigh. With a flourish, he stood again.

“Let’s see if my explanation meant anything. You donnot have to roll, but you can use the same idea of momentum and protection in a flat fall.” There was a smile in his voice as he added, “Would you like me to push you?”

[Reaver]

Reaver watched the flip before him, and noted with his excess weight that would be well beyond his current capabilities, but along those lines, not impossible. A trick for the skilled, perhaps. It looked difficult to learn, at any rate. He stood nodding as the other began his lesson. Reaver contemplated just how many times he'd seen strong individuals do just the opposite. He suspected he was learning the right thing after all.

A change of subject, another 'trick.' He used the word like he were teaching a street magician. Protecting joints, he knew it was important. Not just from falls, blades as well. Many joints cause lots of bleeding when injured. The advice seamed simple enough, and a small demonstration. It was followed by the actions of a braggart. He's not used to teaching. Maybe 'Street Magician' wasn't far off.

Reaver thought of his attempt a moment before making it. Reaver decided to keep it simple, and fell from standing backwards to his bottom. True, it hurt a bit, but it clearly reminded Reaver was the force of a fall felt like. He began to ponder the lecture more seriously. Something on how to USE that momentum later, the force of the fall, to my advantage? What other simple forces could be used this way?

Standing up, Reaver began contemplating how to best learn from his next fall. He decided to follow the demonstration this time. "Perhaps, a push would work." Reaver changed his stance to cross his legs before him, as if about to make a bow, then nodded to imply he was ready to be pushed.

 

Pushed

Reaver fell faster then he thought he would, as his balance was very limited from that stance. He did what he could to shift to falling to his side, but landed on his bottom once again. "Harder then it looks."

 

Not Pushed

After standing around a few moments, Reaver moves his hand to his mask, not covering his eyes. "Something wrong?"

((Felt like trying tabs, sorry if it's a bother.))

[Victor Lark]

Victor winced again as the poor man fell a second time. He thought he could feel the impact riding his own spine as he watched it. He could only fault himself for that mistake; he could have probably explained his methods in plenty of other, clearer, ways. He stepped forward and offered his hand, even though it was uncertain if his skinny arm could do anything to help him to his feet.

“You donnot have to twist around if it’s unnatural. And don’t bend your knees too much or you’ll catch the force of the impact in your bottom.” He tried to think of a good way to explain what his muscles had already memorized. Despite his inexperience with teaching (or with anyone thinking he had anything to teach), he wanted desperately to do it well. “Try to land on your leg instead of your hip, and if you happen to hit the ground wrong, fight your instinct and go down further. Better to spread the impact to the whole of your back than the base of your spine, yeah?”

The aging morning revealed a few more early risers going about their business, honest merchants and shady dealers alike. Victor did not notice them, not yet. He was too wrapped up in the lesson. So he reached up and pushed on that blue-cloaked chest again. Whether he fell from that force or not, the novice teacher added, “You can still roll to your side if you cannot roll over your head. Keep moving and it’ll be easier to get up again.”

[Reaver]

Reaver brought himself to his feet on his own. If it’s unnatural. If I were good at figuring that out, this process would be simpler. "Keep legs straight, and try not to force the impact to one point?" As he got pushed again, he locked his legs and shifted to fall on his side. As he went to hit, he moved his arm straight down, and his body rolled to his back rather swiftly. "I have a feeling I missed something else." Reaver brought himself to his feet once more. That time it hurt, without his armor to take most of the damage it was rather different. "Is there, a better way to show you what it is I am doing wrong?"
((I think the idea is to MOVE the point of impact, not to make it larger. If it weren't for the armor he'd have noticed how well the training was actually working.))
I hope to not gather a crowd. That would be rather awkward.

[Victor Lark]

((Gah, I'm exactly like Victor in that I know how to do it but not how to explain it, haha.))

No. He was doing it wrong. Worse than before. Victor began to feel the weight of frustration settle in his jaw. His student took direction well and it was the direction that hurt him, not any lack of effort or aptitude. Where before he might have predicted himself to find boredom in the ongoing failures, he found himself determined to get it right now,even if it meant being caught. Even if it meant being embarrassed. The young teacher paced back and forth once, then turned to Reaver as he spoke.

“I think the problem is that your own reflexes are working against you. Your pelvis is as fragile as your wrist or your elbow, and you need to try to land on your thigh instead. That way you can roll to your front and get back up again. Try not to be so stiff, and…” His hand rose to his chin for a moment as he thought of something.

“Could you… would you remove your armor?” He suggested tentatively, unsure if this man, who went so far as to hide his face from the world, would be willing to take from his body a similar form of protection.

[Reaver]

If I had reflexes, it would be simpler. Try not to be so... stiff? Reaver managed to contain his laugh, his mask hiding the smile on his face. Reaver had to appreciate the irony. It would seam his outfit had finally managed to fool someone, at the wrong time. Well, maybe he wouldn't scream anyway.

"Not in public, not here, no. What tasks have you to do today? Perhaps we should meet out of town? Depending on your response to my... never-you-mind that thought." Reaver paused again. "Would you consider yourself a dedicated person?"

[Victor Lark]

Secretly, the sheltered Lark could not help but be reminded of his primary goal. Out of town — exactly where he needed to be. This man’s discomfort with the growing population of mid-morning would be the very thing that inspired Victor’s precarious nerves to finish what he had set out to do.

“Not particularly,” Victor responded honestly, though with a flair of sarcasm and a rejuvenated smile. The heaviness of the past frustrations held him from any other witticisms he might have shot back, but the human was easily distracted, and currently optimistic. He continued, “But I am dedicated to finishing this lesson, and I am interested in what you have to teach me.”

Others could have excused the doctor’s slip of tongue, but Victor’s curious ears could not resist it. In a single swooping turn he bent to pick up his trunk and stepped rather close to Reaver, eyeing the side of his face as if he could see behind the mask. Familiar only with the homogenous culture of Ravok, he did not even consider that the stranger was anything but human. Still, he could at least detect something was odd about him. With a jesting curiosity (no interrogative strategy intended) he asked, “What did you say, though, doctor? Before?”

[Reaver]

"Not in town, or never you mind? Shall we?" Reaver Gestured down the street he was just coming, complimented with a short, respectable bow. Not a second after, he began to make his way in that direction. "Travel is easier with a boat. I have one of sorts in this direction. I do apologize for the unpleasant smell. Comes with the, trade." That pause was deliberate, to further tweak his curiosity. The curious are less likely to cause problems when terrified. Maybe if it goes poorly I'll be a ghost story instead.

((Assuming you follow here.))
Reaver didn't take his time, but was sure to glance back every so often to make sure a stray thought didn't distract the one following him. His step now matched the speed of those who are typically up this early. "I don't believe I got a name to call you. Feel free to call me Reaver. Easy to remember." The path wound and twisted in odd patterns, and Lark's knowledge of the streets easily lead him to know there was a more direct path then the one he chose. Reaver's path seamed to twist and weave around a fair number of alleys that would remain dark even on the brighter days. Reaver strode with purpose, as if he walked the same path every day.

Around ten minutesWould have been two directly later, Reaver managed to make it to a small boat randomly tied to another structure. Simple in design, but a faint smell of blood could be smelled, and the bottom of the boat seamed stained darker then the rest. Reaver carefully made his way down, then went to untie the boat. He paused here, and glanced around before commenting. "You don't get sick from the waves, yes?"

[Victor Lark]

“Smell. What?” Victor barely had time to be confused before the doctor escaped him. Like a fledgling fish, he took the bait blindly.

He was young, plenty energetic. He kept up with Reaver nicely, straying inches behind only because he could not predict the direction of their progress. The old frustration was now entirely shed from him, replaced with an irresistible and infallible curiosity that dominated all other passions. He could not help but notice, in his utter familiarity with these paths, that he was lead out of the light at every possible turn: away from the wide beams of shimmering water, through the tight and rightfully unmanned alleys. He did not think much of it, yet.

Victor did not immediately recognize the scents that wafted around the area where they finally stopped. Nonetheless he was not unacquainted with the taste of blood, having been at the wrong end of a punch more than once in his short life. It was almost nostalgic, subconsciously.

Captivated in this new adventure, he did not think of the serious dangers presented by his current situation. He replied, “I live in the same city as you, do I not?”

((You can go ahead and assume he follows you, if you like. Hopefully this doesn't end too badly. : P ))

[Reaver]

Reaver will pause, then smile to himself. "Do you? Good to know. Would you like to lead the boat out of town, then? This channel doesn't lead to a main dock when taken that way." He will point a direction, and sit down near the front of the boat. "Lead on, Captain..." He paused, as if to think. Easy to lead, maybe he'll be able to learn with little instruction. He's dedicated to that in front of him.