Reflections in the Mirror (Kit)

[Talya]

Timestamp: Summer 62, 515 AV

Talya stood out in the lawns in front of the University of Zeltiva, its massive shadow stretching outward, crawling over her form; bathing her in shades of grey through which even the light of the sun could not penetrate. Her feet were bare, she had kicked off her suede leather boots, and left them in a pile upon the grass; leaning up against her pack. The green blades swayed softly in the breeze that swept in from the bay, tickling her ankles as she took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. Gulls and other sea birds cawed overhead as they circled the area, simply flying on in most cases, although some landed, and began walking across the grass, or perched themselves on one section of the University or another. She was surprised that they didn't get scared away, but she supposed they had grown used to the humans, (and few other races), that were always there. Filling the lawns in either their separation from one another, or their small groups of two or three or more. Many talking amongst themselves, students gossiping, laughing, discussing their classes animatedly, or with extreme anger or boredom, depending on the situation. Others were just passing through, either to their lessons, or some other portion of the city, if not home for a rest or practice reading or work.

Talya was one of the few that made up the group that kept to themselves; that remained alone. She stood off in a corner of the field, with her eyes trained on no place in particular; just some place out ahead of her, drifting off into the distance. She was breathing deeply, in through her nose and out through her mouth, before alternating- moving into her next breath where she drew in through the mouth, and let out through the nose, before continuing the cycle again. Counting to sets of ten before beginning again in order to still her heart and her mind. Her body remaining still, although her right hand hovered over the hilt of the blade she had concealed beneath the skirt of her long black dress; past the slit in the fabric. It rested against her thigh, so that it would be easy enough to reach, but not so far back where it would be difficult to pull out and into the open should she need to. It was in the next few seconds that Talya decided it was to be time. So, she took one final deep breath, before reaching for her dagger, and then unsheathing it, drawing it into the open with a hollowed ring. She forced it out to her side, while she set her left hand into a neat, safe tuck behind her back.

With that done, Talya began to ease herself into her starting position. She let her right foot slide forward, until it was about two feet ahead of the left. She kept her toes pointed ahead of her, while he let the left lag behind, and kept her toes pointed toward the area to the left of her body. She then bent each of her legs at the knee, although she leaned further into the right, and applied most of her weight to her right foot. She kept her right arm cocked and held before her chest, which she rotated slightly from the waist up, so less would be presented to potential attackers. Once she had gotten settled, Talya took another deep breath, before moving into the first of the moves she intended to practice. She stepped forward, moving with a practiced, confident ease, (which likely had a lot to do with the fact that she wasn't actually fighting anyone), and swung her right arm out to the side. Straightening it for the most part, while letting it flow freely to the east, so that it appeared to be an extension of her arm, (although on a slightly negative decline). As she continued moving, Talya guided her arm swiftly inward, forcing it in a wide arc which slashed at the air ahead of her. The strike was level with her collarbone, and coerced the blade, (which had been held in the reverse position), to spin outward and away from her skin as it neared her opposite shoulder, and then sailed a bit past it.

As Talya breathed again, she stepped forward once more, and guided the blade back in the opposite direction, so that it followed the path it had just taken to reach a point near her left shoulder. When it reached its starting position at the right side of her body, Talya raised her hand higher, bringing it to a position over her head, before cutting it back down in a straight line, that ran parallel to the side of her body. She forced the blade up and down, slashing in a series of wild vertical lines designed to harrow any potential opponents more than anything else. As she moved, her arm ached, and sweat poured down the length of her brow as she continued the pattern an inch to the left; it was an exercise meant for precision, and for the refinement of her control.

OOCTalya will stop what she is doing when approached, and will somewhat reluctantly switch tasks, if that is what Kit wishes to do. She isn't one to pass up intellectual conversation, or a talk with a Chaktawe, as she has never encountered a free one before.

[Urkut]

Kitshoon had always loved watching.

She loved watching people carry on their lives around her, be they sailors form afar or her life-long neighbors. There was something intriguing in the way people interacted with each other- something Kit could never quite put her finger on. It was present in mothers who talked to their children, and volunteers helping to repair the town after disasters. It was there in shopkeepers welcoming people to their stores and in the doctors repairing the injured. Her mother had called it humanity, but Kitshoon found it hard to believe that such kindness was an inherent part of everyone. There was always someone who seemed to be lacking that humanity; someone who didn't hesitate to do wrong.

But today, those inhumane actions were far from Kit's mind, for all she could see in front of her was wonderful. Students scattered here and there, talking, studying together, sharing drinks under the hot sun, and laughing together. Those who were not happy were receiving comfort from friends, or perhaps willing strangers. Even the ocean seemed content in its place, with its soft and almost happy sloshing and whooshing sounds.

Yes, Kitshoon thought as she strolled on to the lawn of the University, Today is a good day.

And perhaps it is lucky that it was such a good day, for were it not, Kitshoon may not have stopped on that lawn to admire the sunshine. And had she not stopped, she would never have noticed the girl just feet away, buried deep in her practice.

The woman was breathing rhythmically through her mouth and nose, as though she were meditating. And yet, she held a dagger in one hand as though she were fighting. She moved with the grace of a dancer and the determination of an artist. Her relatively tall form was carried with control, far from the ungainliness it so easily could have been. Impressed, Kitshoon took a step closer to compliment the woman. But she only took a single step before she stopped cold.

Not only did the woman have long, dark locks of hair that mimicked Kitshoon's own, but her skin was a familiar shade of bronze, not too far off from Kit's brother, Jonach. These things could have been coincidence, but it was the stranger's eyes that made Kitshoon give real pause.

They were endlessly black, with the slightest hint of a second eyelid when she blinked, the way only a Chaktawe's could be.

Kitshoon stayed frozen where she was, mouth agape, as she admired the woman's strong frame. After far too many ticks, Kitshoon finally recovered her voice with a shake of her head.

"Dear Eywaat, how have I never seen you before?"

She spoke loudly enough that the woman might hear her, but much softer than her usual commanding tone. Her words were filled with awe and a touch of hope. Could it be that she had found another like her? For so long she had felt alienated among these Svefra and Kelvic and Humans, and here was this woman, right in front of her eyes. Impossible!

The Tawna that she had not practiced since her youth came out sloppily, but to Kitshoon, it was worth it. It reminded her of home, not only in Eyktol, but in the cottage where her mother and father told stories in the language that sounded like nature. "Your name?" She asked.

[Talya]

Talya continued on with her exercise- moving the dagger inch by inch to the left side of her body. Slash by slash. When she had covered everything over to her shoulder, and would risk cutting herself if she guided it any further, Talya decided to move onto the next exercise in her repertoire. It was another designed to help with her precision, and secondly, with her ability to make sudden twists and turns with the blade. She began by guiding her weapon down from her left shoulder to her left hip, and then moving it across to the right hip, before guiding it upward to the right shoulder, and then back across to the place where it started by the opposing shoulder. She paused for a second, before raising it in an angled line above her head, and then back to her right shoulder on a similar, slanted line, and then back to the left shoulder again, by moving directly across. She had lazily drawn a house. With that done, she pushed her blade over to the space ahead of her right shoulder again, and repeated the process by moving in the opposing set of directions. She painted the house with the point of her blade a few times, before moving onto new shapes with her dagger, some more complicated than the house, others less so. Some more angular and jagged, some less so.

Talya drew cherries, by circling her dagger in the air, and then adding a stem, by stretching her dagger upward, in a light slanting line to one side or the other. She drew oranges, and even a few apples, which had a stubby stem, and a lobed leaf coming out of it. She pushed her blade upward from one side of her neck, toward the center of her forehead, and then down to the left side, before pushing it out past her left shoulder and then back in at an angle, continuing in a similar fashion all around her body until she had drawn a five-pointed star several times over. Moving her hand faster and faster with each of her repetitions. When she was done with her star, she returned to "more natural" repetitions of the moves she often employed during battle. She jabbed the air with her left hand, and then followed up behind with her right. Then she would draw both arms back, and force the right outward again and again, as though she were angrily punching the air, and her dagger just happened to come along for the ride, and for some extra, added, dangerous support. (Well, for her enemies, not so much for her in this case).

By the time Talya was moving onto hooked inward jabs, where the blade spun out from her skin, a shadow had begun to crawl across her visage. A shadow that did not move, and also, happened to speak to her. When Talya had finished her next cut toward her left shoulder, she swept her weapon inward, and sank into her typical starting position before straightening her body out and turning to face whatever the interruption had been. In this case, it had been a woman, a Chaktawe, as was her mortal seeming. She could tell by the tone of her skin- bronze with reddened undertones. The darkness of her hair- black as a raven's feathers. The obsidian nature of her eyes; the deep, hardened stare. The way the woman carried herself, the way she dressed. How she spoke of Eywaat when no one else never bothered to, just as she spoke in Tawna, a language, Talya supposed that had long been forgotten here, if it had ever been remembered at all. "Hello," Talya said, choosing to speak Tawna now, although she had first been addressed in Common. A thin smile crossing her lips as she sheathed her dagger, and took a step closer to the true Chaktawe, so that she offered a greater, more welcoming view of herself. "Talya," she said, "and you are?"

That was before she fell silent. Before she waited. "What bring here?" she added, in broken Tawna, as a bit of an afterthought.