Private Unsuitable Replacements

[Avalore]

Finding a weapon that worked for Avalore was... hard.

Ashin had given her access to several of her own over the years, but none of them had been hers to keep. Living aboard the Pomojema had given Avalore the the unique chance to train with masters of multiple styles, but when it came time to declare what form she wanted to make her own... Avalore had no answer.

It was time that Avalore had a weapon of her own.

The first was lost over the cliff-face on Tash Taral. The half sword had felt too light and too short to help the small girl fend off the wildlife that had descended on her. Avalore walked the weapon wall and mused for a better alternative.

Maybe a long sword?

She glanced once at the weapon's master, then pulled it from its bracket. It felt heavy, like Ashin's old sword that had broken years ago. She bounced the weight in her palms and turn to slash at the open ring behind her.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Avalore

She had managed to calm down.

Eventually.

Not before fantasizing about sabotaging the engine and then leaving Ashin Cardé Varanin and Avalore stranded. Right before the Drengir would come swooping in to eat them both. That would have been a proper send-off, no? It karking sucked that she still needed Ashin. For now anyway. Once she got everything she needed from her... maybe.

Maybe then it would be a moment for score settling.

"Ya know, I prefer a good karking knuckle fight. Feels better." Mercy drawled lazily from across the room as she leaned against the doorpost. When had she come in here?

Looked like the mountain lady could walk quietly even with all that bulk.

"It's a bit more honest in mah experience."

 

[Avalore]

Avalore rolled her eyes.

"No. What you prefer is an advantage that suits you; at least be honest about it." Avalore let the tip settle to the ground, unwilling to let the woman see the way it would start to wobble.

She could grow strong enough to use it if she wanted to.

"A true sith is adaptable to any situation," she chastised, prim and matter of fact. "Imagine asking your enemies to stop and fight you with your fists."

She snorted.

 

[Mercy]

Mercy smiled.

"I didn't ask you to stop." She hadn't noticed the wobbly point, but the woman was so brash and arrogant that she didn't need to. The boldness flowed through her veins. Besides the moment Avalore opened her mouth she remembered why she wanted to kick her teeth in. The fact that there was an opportune moment for that right now?

Oh, yes, Mercy wasn't going to miss taking advantage of it.

"In fact, I bet I could beat you even with your fancy sword." Pushing herself off the doorpost and striding lightly into the training room. Her arms loose, balls of her feet leaning, the nonchalant tone stood at stark contrast of her stance.

Primed and ready to go.

"Unless ya dun' think paper can beat rock after all."

 

[Avalore]

Avalore's brow rose.

You had to be particularly stupid to fight bare fisted to something sharp. Stupid, or made of stone. Mercy struck her as both. If this was anyone else in the academy she would have refused, but there was no respect between her and this woman that tried to be her replacement.

There was a small voice of reason that tried to warn her off this, but she ignored it and lifted the sword back off the ground. She could handle school-yard bullies just fine now, thank you. She stepped into the circle, footsteps light as she avoided falling into any one stance.

"She's not going to take you on, you know."

 

[Mercy]

Mercy snorted.

"I don't need to be someone's apprentice to get the knowledge I want." Mercy murmured softly as she unballed her fists. Fighting an edged sword with her bare hands wasn't a very smart approach.

She was already starting to wonder if it had been such a good idea.

Oh, she would live, unless Avalore managed to somehow decapitate her. Since she barely could reach that high though, Mercy considered that a small chance of happening. " 'Sides... she a Sith, mother hen syndrome or not. Eventually she will realize you won't ever be able to stand on yar own two feet."

A nasty grin followed next.

 

[Kyra Perl]

ope, boarded the wrong ship. ope ope

 

[Avalore]

Avalore's expression narrowed.

A pulse of the force slammed into Mercy's feet, seeking to undo the footing she had. Avalore hadn't been trained to fight anyone head on. She was trained to flow like water and come at their sides.

So she did.

As the shockwave hit, she surged forward and tried to cut Mercy's arm clean off. What? She could get it replaced.

 

[Mercy]

She stood as a rock.

But even a rock could be rolled back.

The pulse pushed her backwards and shook her balance up. But this wasn't her first rodeo. She had fought years in the arena and before that in the Academy. Right as Avalore swept in to cut off Mercy's arm, the large woman shifted ever rotating on the ball of her foot. Instead of slicing cleanly through her arm, Mercy caught the sword on the hard bone of her shoulder. It still would have probably ripped through, if not for her hand grabbing hold of the blade at the same time and pushing back.

Pain floured through her body as sharp edge cut into meat, flesh and the edge of bone.

But behind the shades Mercy grinned wide. "Touchy, touchy." She hissed with pleasure as she used that proximity between each other to knee her in the stomach and slamming her forehead into her face.

 

[Avalore]

Avalore's eyes could only widen in understanding as the woman remained standing. There was no time to brace, she had given Mercy the opening herself.

Avalore fell back in palpable disorientation. She tried to will air back into her lungs as she scrambled back from further blows. Her world churned and burned, it was all she could do to not drop her weapon.

How had that not cut clean through? She made her way back to her feet. The gash at her temple had reopened and flowed freely. She spat blood from her mouth and raised the sword. Keep the distance.

"What the feth are you?"

 

[Mercy]

Mercy tilted her head one way, then the other way and rolled her shoulders, in spite of the raw cut in her shoulder that was bleeding.

Bleeding... but perhaps less so than it ought to.

The pain sang through her body. It made her alert, focused, she could practically feel Avalore's heartbeat in her own chest. "The rock." Mercy smirked as she said the most cheesy lines you could say in this situation. Then again. She had just warded of a sword with just a hand and a shoulder. Said hand balled into a fist and let blood drip down.

"Didn't realize we were going for cut limbs though." Sweet tone. "I will adjust to that. Wanna try again?"

Her bleeding hand beckoning to her.

Avalore

 

[Avalore]

No, she didn't. She stood undaunted anyway, her lips pressing to a thin line as she kept the sword between them. It felt heavier now. Harder to wield.

"Are all your opponents so stupid to attack when asked?" She side-stepped and bought herself more space, not playing the game Mercy's way. She didn't need that lesson twice.

 

[Mercy]

"Not all o'them, but-" A warm smile there as her eyes followed Avalore's movements.

She didn't move.

Rooted as an oak in place. Breathing in slow, tempering the pain and using it as fuel, this was the first lesson a Sith Apprentice learned. "You can't blame me for trying with a silly girl like you." Drawled ever so sweetly. All an attempt to gaud her, of course. For all the insults and belief that Mercy was superior to her, she didn't truly think that Avalore was harmless.

"Come now. Just a moment ago you were full of fire and confidence. Frightened already? If you admit you are less than me... well, I will let it go and you can go back to cleaning the weapons room like you were a moment ago."

Gone was the Underworld accent.

High Tionese that only showed up when Mercy was as close to her true self as possible. The one she was still trying to bury to this day.

The talker. Piss and vinegar and nothing of worth. But Mercy didn't actually want to kill Avalore and she wasn't sure she could stop herself, if it came to it.

 

[Avalore]

Avalore's teeth gritted, but she didn't bite. Not at the insults, and not at the offer.

She could practically see Ashin's lips press into a thin line, finding disapproval about something, but Avalore didn't care. This woman was coming for her. She wouldn't stop until made to.


"I thought you wanted a fight." She deflected, her feet light and quick as she kept her feet moving. Getting to her would be the hard part, but that was the point of it all. Her muscles strained against the weapon; she curled her lip in contempt.

"Here, let me give you a tip. You're suppose to move your arms, not your mouth."

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Smiling without hesitation.

"That's true, but-" A little light shrug. As if Avalore hadn't just cut into her shoulder. Then again... was it bleeding less now? It also didn't look AS fierseome a wound now than it had only a minute ago.

"-yar a lil' one, darling. Time's on mah side."

Her eyes shifting towards the sword in her hands. Did the point tremor just a little bit there or was that Mercy's imagination? Yes, she was correct in thinking that by just waiting Avalore would grow tired of holding the sword. But. Sadly Mercy was also... really impatient. The smart game would have been to tire her out. Avalore already showcased this wasn't a friendly bout (not that Mercy was looking for one), but one that could get one or both of them killed.

She began to move again.

Smirking as she feinted to the left. Then to the right. Taking note of the way Avalore was moving, how fast her reactions were, before drawing at the Force. The pain she felt in her shoulder. The joy she felt to fight this ... creature. As Mercy felt the energy thrumming through her body she breathed in, held it.

And surged forward.

Fully intent on tanking whatever hit Avalore was making, either batting it to the side, ducking under it, but making sure she got into the apprentice's defenses to ram her into the wall with the Force behind her.

 

[Avalore]

Avalore followed the faints, moving back and to the sides to prevent the distance from being closed, but it all did nothing to stop the woman's charge. Avalore steadied the tip, swinging to impale her, only to have it be batted away from its mark and sink into something else all together.

She didn't have time to see the damaged. The world blurred as she was thrown back. She slammed into the wall. Something cracked. Her head? Or a rib. The pain was exquisite, but the tonkutaji had prepared her for this.

A thin, steely sheen rippled over her skin, the protective shield absorbing incoming damage.

It would appear Avalore could take a hit. For the moment. She wheezed and tried to tug the sword out of flesh, but her elbow banged into the wall with each yank. She didn't have the room to dislodge it, it was too big.

Avalore released it and reached to her side, scrambling desperately to grip a new weapon off the pegs around her. Her fingers slipped over a handle. She yanked, using the short distance to cuff Mercy over the ears with a mace. It wasn't much, so she did it again.

 

[Mercy]

Avalore

It embedded itself into her thigh.

Not ideal at all. Every time she shifted, the blade's edge painfully sheered through her flesh, but there was little Mercy could do about it right now. Not while having Avalore pinned against the wall like that. She tried to slam her fist into the young girl's face, but it was like meeting an invisible wall that shimmered her back.

She growled and slammed again.

This time there was some bounce back. "Getting tired, babe? I am jus' getting started." Mercy sang brightly in response to that. Of course, her delight meant that the giant wasn't paying attention to what Avalore was doing next. She got cuffed over the ear with a mace. It rocked her slightly. The second one snapped her head to the side. Now all she heard was whistling form that side of her head.

Her eyes blood red behind the shades, but Mercy was just smiling.

"Ya dun' give up, I give ya that." Sweet tone as her hands grappled to shift around Avalore's throat and slide her up the wall as she attempted to throttle the apprentice.

 

[Avalore]

The mace was lost to the grapple, Avalore's nails digging into Mercys flesh without drawing a single speak of blood. Whatever the woman was, it didn't matter. She was a threat. The pressure around her throat built, constricting her breath bit by bit until the barrier gave way.

She could feel her trachea crunch under the meaty fingers at her throat. Avalore tried every choking release in the book, none it phased the rock smiling down at her.

Sickening noises caught in the girl's throat.

The walls around them creaked and rattled with new sense of desperation. Avalore reached blindly for another weapon, sharp bites of pain piercing into her palm. She brought a new throwing star down on Mercy's neck, stabbing again.

And Again.

 

[Mercy]

Avalore

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to kark with her in the middle of a weapons room.

This Mercy contemplated as the morning star dashed against her. She managed to shield her exposed neck a fraction, but the only other thing in its way was an exposed shoulder. She tch'ed there in response. Even as the sharpened angles cut into her skin. "Can't fight on yar own, can ya?" Mercy grunted as the pain caused her sight to sharpen into a needle point.

She hadn't walked into the room wanting to murder Avalore, but right now the prospect just seemed... satisfying.

"Yar not worth anything, Avalore." Mercy whispered sweetly as she reached out. Almost lovingly. Stroking her jaw once. Then? She slapped her in the face with the palm of her hand. Once. Then with the flat of her hand a second time. As if to say that she wasn't even worth her fist.

Only then throwing her to the side against the other wall.

"Varanin took pity on ya. Look at ya. What other reason could there be?" As her large meaty hand brushed her shoulder. The blood thick, but already thinning out again.

 

[Avalore]

She crawled away from the impending threat, forearm over forearm, until her vision cleared on a set of boots.

Her head tilted up to the impassive face of the weapon's master, her yellowing pupils meeting his unwavering gaze. Was she done then?

No.

Satsfied with this, he kneeled down. Perhaps to Mercy he was just tending to a beaten victim, but in his hands was an offering. A chain unraveled into Avalore's fingers, a little metal spike weighting the end.

Mercy was right, Ashin did stay with Avalore for a reason. She never, ever quit.

She dropped to her back and turned, fire igniting along its length as Avalore unleashed a wicked scream. The whip lashed out for Mercy, searing right for her face.