Closed [Sacred Arch Hotsprings] Learning while Slipping... again.

[Matthew]

14th of Fall, 513 AV. Matthew still looked as pristinely put-together as when he had left the house, the harlot taking a great amount of pride in his appearance. His hair was thick and styled, his eyes sharp and blue, his face so clear that he might very well have applied some sort of make-up. He was dressed simply today, with a plain white shirt that hung onto his defined body, and a pair of britches rolled up around the ankles. He was barefoot, deciding to brave his luck in the interesting woods surrounding Syliras. He was very close to the walls though, so most of the landscape was still soft and grassy. He had walked to a very familiar hot springs that was nearby, and was now slowly making his way out onto a small patch of slick rocks that barely peeked up above the water's surface. He had to stick out his arms to keep his balance, feeling the muscles work in his stomach and legs as he strained not to slip and fall. He was always trying to find ways to work on his balance and flexibility, and this seemed to be an excellent way to do it. He still remembered when Kaie had showed him the basics out here. Those were what he was going to try and remember. He faintly realized that he hadn't seen her in some time. He would have to stop by her place of work and see if she was still serving drinks. It was good for him to engage in social interactions every now and then. Taking a deep breath, he settled his bare feet on two smooth rocks and thought back to the basics she had shown him. First there was the forming of the fist, clenched not-too-tight with the thumb held in a way that protected it. Then there was his shoulder, lose and ready. Breathing slowly, he stared straight in front, imagining the wild girl standing where she had been just a season ago. The harlot quickly and gracefully lashed out, twisting his defined hips hard to generate torque. The punch flew out in a blur, but didn't strike at all where he expected it to. He was having problems aiming. He was just throwing the punch and somehow not aiming it when he did. He wasn't so sure what was going on. Grumbling a bit to himself, he turned, balancing by windmilling his arms furiously. His foot perched upon a particularly slippery stone, and with a small noise he realized that he was falling forward. By instinct, he threw his hands out in front of himself. He managed to catch himself on the way down, fingers splashing in the water of the hot springs. He blinked down at his reflection in the surface, and then slowly hauled himself back up, feeling a bit of a burn in his arm muscles. Slowly but surely he found his way back to his original perch on the slippery stones, and went about throwing a punch again. He would do it over and over, and each time he would take several chimes to check his posture. Soon enough he looked like some sort of golem, doing the exact same thing over and over again. He had an attention to detail, if anything.

[Roderick]

While the weather was beginning to take a turn towards being cold and wet, there was still a fair amount of sunshine making its way down towards Roderick, so that the hunter remained reasonably warm. All the same he had wrapped himself up in some warm clothes - if he became too hot he could easily strip a few layers off; he couldn't do the same if he was under-dressed. He had not made any particular plans for that day, choosing to spend a bit of time stretching his legs as he made his way through the wood. At some point the idea of going to the Hotsprings came to mind and he set off in that direction, treading the distance with long step so he could get there quickly. His boots crunched against the fallen leaves as he closed the distance between himself and the pools of hot water that lay at his destination. When he finally got there, skirting the edge of the nearest pool, Roderick noticed a rather curious sight; a man in breeches and a shirt wobbling around on some stones in the middle of one of the pools. Slowing to a stop the hunter watched with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as the man placed a foot on one rock and the other on a different one, then prepared himself for a few tics and unleashed a fast, wild punch into the air. The movement unbalanced him and he began flailing his arms around in an effort to keep himself from falling - futile, it seemed, given he began pitching forward not long after he started his antics; a few tics later and he was just barely holding himself above the surface of the water, arms splayed out beneath it to keep him from completely falling in. Roderick found a smile forming on his lips as the man got back onto the stones and began the exercise again, punching and then stopping to adjust himself, then repeating the action again - and again, until he seemed to have gotten used to the effort of balancing himself there, though the odd wobble here and there showed he was still getting used to it all. As Roderick started moving forwards the man continued his punching, falling into a sort of rhythm; he was persevering at least. Stopping a short distance away the hunter watched the man continue the exercise and wondered over what exactly it was supposed to be doing. From what he could see it was supposed to aid in keeping ones balance, but the reason behind the punching still eluded him; to make it harder to continue standing on the rocks, he supposed. Regardless of why the man was going through the motions of wobbling around on a pair of rocks, Roderick found himself more than a little intrigued by it, especially given the lack of anything better he could do. Well, he could of course go out hunting, but he did that ever other day he could. By this point the idea of spending another day tracking down and killing a deer seemed rather dull, compared with the chance to find out who this man was and what exactly he hoped to achieve. With a quiet step forward Roderick edged closer to the edge of the pool, taking another and laying his foot down gently. There was a lot of grass around here, so making a lot of noise was rather impossible. At last he decided he should probably speak up, since suddenly realizing someone was there would probably startle the man more than needed. Clearing his throat he spoke, "What's that supposed to do?" He tried to avoid sounding too hostile or skeptical as he asked the question, deciding he would just have to hope that the man wouldn't be too surprised by the sudden arrival of a stranger asking him his business. While it was true that it wasn't any of Roderick's concern, he'd always had a childish interest in what was going on around him; could one really blame him for what was effectively a natural instinct? OOCSorry for the delay.

[Matthew]

When he had fully gotten used to throwing the punch with his feet in one stance, he soon changed to another stance so that he had to deal with balancing. He would wobble and wiggle a few times and then finally find his feet, and once more turn into the golem that threw the same exact punch over and over again. A few chimes in and he would remember that Kaie had told him to step forward when throwing the punch, so he had to adjust and add that. The extra movement made it much more difficult to keep his balance, but he did what he could. His stepping foot only slipped off of the slippery rocks once or twice, and none of those times did he fall over or forward onto his face. He was so deep in concentration that the sudden voice didn't really bother him, though it didn't particular register in his mind either. "I am working on my balance, while at the same time working on how to punch correctly. I figured it would be best to kill two birds with one stone. I eventually want to work on flexibility, but a lot of those exercises require some level of balance." It was about then he actually realized he had been spoken to, and his head quickly turned around to fix his blue stare on the new guest. A slow tilt of his head showed his curiosity, and the intense blue stare quickly glanced over the man to commit his appearance to memory. His body was that of a young adult, but his facial features looked a bit younger than that. He wasn't particularly well-groomed, but not messy either. Something of a comfortable in-between that most people wore. "I don't know how to defend myself at all, so I was shown the basics. I am just practicing them until I am fully comfortable. Do you fight at all, or practice any sort of acrobatics? You are welcome to join in." He offered a polite smile, wobbling a bit as he turned on the slippery stones and headed toward the shore. A few moments later and he was there, walking slowly towards Roderick. His pace was slow and graceful, his eyes never wavering from his approached target. When he arrived, he offered a soft hand for a firm handshake, the polite smile forming again. "I am Matthew, a prostitute from the Herald's Arms in Syliras." He was getting better at introducing himself. It seemed to be a good conversation starter for any sort of random conversation, so he practiced it like he would practice anything else. Really, social norms and standards were almost more foreign to him than punching. If Roderick knew how much thought and practice Matthew had put into that polite smile and offered handshake, he would probably laugh.

[Roderick]

For a while it seemed the man was completely oblivious to the fact that someone had just spoken to him and, while he did reply to his question in full, Roderick couldn't help but feel the man was utterly focused on his work and was unaware of the hunter's presence. It was only as he was finishing his explanation that his mind seemed to realize someone else was standing nearby and, snapping his head around quickly he set a strong blue gaze on the stranger before him. His head leaned over to the side slightly as his eyes ran over Roderick from head to toe. His examination complete he began explaining more, being generous with the information. Lips curved into an amicable smile he wavered slightly as he turned himself around on the wet rocks he was perched on, taking his time in walking the distance to the edge of the pool, a air of grace hanging around him despite the constant possibility of falling head first into the water around him. As his bare feet touched down on the soft grass around the water's edge, the man offered up his hand, his polite smile returning, "I am Matthew, a prostitute from the Herald's Arms in Syliras." Admittedly that threw the hunter of course somewhat; the idea of there being male whores wasn't exactly unheard of, but generally one imagined women to be the main holder of such an occupation. Regardless the fellow seemed a decent sort, if his manner so far was any judge of character, so the Zeltivan swiftly washed away any flicker of negative emotion that might have clung to his face. Reaching up with his own hand Roderick wrapped his fingers about Matthew's and returned the gesture, feeling the fleshy warmth and softness of his hand - a sign the man rarely did any form of hard labour. With his immaculate appearance and well-toned body he could tell that the man was certainly suited to his 'work'. Returning the polite smile Roderick felt the roughness of his own hand against the prositute's, while he returned the gaze just as strongly, "Roderick, hunter." Not as elaborate as Matthew's greeting had been, but it explained a decent number of questions that might have cropped up later. "And sadly, I can't help you with your acrobatics. Perhaps I could share one or two tips about fighting, though I'm not a master of that either." A few tics passed, "Sounds like your work would be rather interesting." he made the comment in passing, out of keeping the words flowing; in no way did he want the other man to go into detail about what exactly he got up to. Sometimes he wondered why he couldn't ever meet a simple labourer, rather than the brigade of odd characters he found himself becoming acquainted with. A Kelvic, a Myrian and a manwhore. I live a strange life.

[Matthew]

"Hunter?" Matthew's brow wrinkled in thought, blue eyes flitting from Roderick's face to the rest of his figure. He was tall and well-kept, though there was a certain disheveled sort of look about him. He looked oddly young, which was at odds with the weathered woodsman impression that seemed to be trying to imprint itself on Matthew's mind. He waved away the thought as best as he could, always being the sort who didn't like to make assumptions about someone. He returned the handshake firmly, noting the roughness of the opposite hand, eyes briefly glancing at it as well. Roderick might notice the meticulate stares that Matthew seemed to give everything. He was always calculating, memorizing, absorbing, processing. "You hunt for a living then, I assume? Or do you just support yourself with the animals of the wild?" Matthew released the handshake, giving a small shake of his head, a slight frown touching on the corners of his full lips. "No need to apologize. Everyone has their own sort of knowledge, and I am interested in just about all of them. Could you teach me something about hunting? Surviving in the wild? Trapping? Tracking? Whatever else it is that hunters may do? I must confess, I have never hunted before. Only indulged in the rewards." The small comment on Matthew's line of work was well-placed, and would have gone un-noticed if not for who Roderick was talking to. Matthew was ever-so fond of the details, and proud of his attention to them. The comment was caught, and a small amount of enthusiasm broke through the harlot's polite and professional mask. "It is interesting, yes. I enjoy the puzzle of a man or woman, and working out just what makes their body tick. I used to study medicine, you see. It is fascinating how well it all kind of works together. If you ever wish to indulge, let me know. I can help you find what you like." It all came out oddly professional, as if Matthew was just offering any old service. Except he was offering his body, or the body of another. It was all the same to the harlot.

[Roderick]

The slightest wrinkle creased the otherwise perfect face of the harlot as he learned of what Roderick did for a living. At first it seemed as though he was perhaps displeased by it, but the archer found it hard to decide what the other man was thinking; he didn't seem to be truly annoyed - just thoughtful as he looked the Zeltivan over with an experienced eye. As he took hold of his hand Roderick felt Matthew looking his hand over with a good eye for detail, as though observing the contours of his hand might reveal some interesting information about him. He nodded in answer to the questioned set before him, "For a living. Hard work, but rewarding in its own way." His hand falling away, again the other man's face was touched by a frown, while he reassured Roderick that he needn't apologize - while also wondering if he could share some of his knowledge. That his new companion had never been on a hunt wasn't a surprise. Given his appearance, he'd probably only ever gone for the briefest of walks in the woods - if he'd ever been out there at all. Going out with him on a hunt sounded like an interesting idea, but he was also somewhat put off by the idea - he'd only ever done that a few times before, with several of them never really going exactly as planned - but then if everything went along without a hitch life would be rather boring, wouldn't it? A little trouble here and there could spice up an otherwise dull occasion. Convinced this could prove to a fairly interesting encounter at the very least - he doubted there was much the other man could teach him that would be overly worthwhile, other than how to make his hair look nice - Roderick smiled amicably. "I'm sure I can find something of interest to show you." Immediately after his comment on Matthew's 'work' the hunter noticed a change in the other man's demeanor; he seemed to become more interested in their conversation and for a time the polite, formal manner he had was brushed away in favour of a - vaguely - casual dialogue. That the harlot considered his customers to be intriguing puzzles that he liked to solve by way of pleasuring them was an equally interesting image that Roderick wasn't sure he wanted seared into his head. At the mention of the medicinal skills the Zeltivan also became interested; the trade skills Matthew knew would be largely useless for a hunter, but what information he had on mending wounds was a very important thing to know. Roderick obviously understood the very basic principles of what one had to do, but he was largely oblivious to the finer points of what it took to save someone's life. Right after he'd become more invested in the conversation, Roderick felt himself withdrawing ever so slightly as the harlot offered his help in finding a way to 'indulge'. It wasn't that he was really against that sort of thing - it just came across as being a strange topic to discuss. Keeping his face neutral to avoid making Matthew feel embarrassed or awkward because of what had just been said, Roderick simply nodded and smiled pleasantly, "That's good of you - I'll keep it in mind." He casually changed the subject, "But like you were saying before, I can show you a few things about hunting. You mentioned knowing a bit about medicine - I understand the basics, but anything you could add to it could help me a lot. That sounds like a fair deal, wouldn't you say."

[Matthew]

"Medicine?" Matthew paused, but the request soon made sense. Who knows what sort of trouble a hunter could get himself into. If his prey turned the tables on him, he could get wounded. Considering how dangerous the Wildlands were, the hunter was just as likely to stumble over a rock and land against some sharp edge. Even the simple things were dangerous in the wild, or at least Matthew thought so. He was the farthest thing from an experienced woodsman though, so his assumptions were based merely on theory. "That sounds like a perfectly fine trade to me. Are you wounded at all?" Once again the analytical eye of the harlot began to scan the woodsman over. "I am not the most trained person in the world, but I can teach you some simple first aid. Are you familar with the idea of disinfecting, bandaging, cleaning wounds? Not the actual process, but the theory behind it? First aid isn't meant to completely heal wounds, but to prevent them from getting worse. This will do when some wounds heal themselves, such as scratches or minor cuts. For anything serious though, it is merely a delaying tactic until you can get to a trained healer of some sort." The harlot spoke very clearly and slowly, his words polite and well-pronounced. He was easy to understand, if anything. The hunter didn't seem to appear wounded in any way, so instead, Matthew held out a hand. "Do you have a small knife? Or anything sharp? I can make a small cut on myself and teach you the general idea behind each of the steps, while performing each of the steps. Any spare cloth?" He patiently held out his hand, and tilted his head, fixing Roderick with that steady stare of his. "So, how does one hunt? Most animals seem faster than a normal person, so I assume you can't catch them with your bare hands?" The harlot was obviously quite clueless. The serious tone of his stare and of his face was enough to prove it wasn't even close to being a joke.

[Roderick]

"Not that I'm aware of." Roderick answered, glancing himself over briefly as he searched for any pains that arose as he moved his limbs about. Listening as the harlot gave a little monologue on what he could share with him, explaining he could show the basic theories and practices of medicine. The clear way he spoke was rather helpful; there couldn't be any misunderstandings here. "My mother knew a fair bit about it - she showed me a thing or two. You'd best just start from the beginning, though." Roderick was surprised when Matthew held his hand out and asked the hunter for a knife so he could slice himself and show him how to care for a wound. Ever so slightly unsure, he put his hand behind his back and slid his flametongue out, flipping it about into his hand. "You'd better just nick yourself with the point - you might make the wound too deep otherwise." Holding the hilt towards his newest acquaintance until he had taken it, the hunter then stood idly and waited for the unusual lesson to commence. The hunter usually kept a few extra bits of cloth to bind himself up if he happened to scrape himself while hunting, and handed over a fairly lengthy piece of red cloth to Matthew when requested it. After that he inquired about how exactly one hunted. Stating that he doubted you could an animal with your bare hands was actually rather amusing, and reinforced the idea that he'd never went out hunting before. Now wasn't the time to be aloof, though - Roderick's decision to be a full-time hunter was a relatively new thing, truth be told; all the other times he'd wandered between different jobs. "I use a longbow for it. Sadly that's back at home, so I'll have to go fetch it if we're to do any proper hunting - though we could look around for some tracks in the meantime." OOCSorry its short, but I've had prelims on lately so I can't really give much else. I just thought I'd give you something, since you've been left waiting for a fair while now.