13 Apr 2018, 02:54
Table Manners, Anyone?
This was working out far, far better than he had hoped. This girl, she had followed. Turning around, he smiled his largest, craziest smile at her. Watching the knife hit him directly in the gut. His eyes flashed around so much, looking from thing to thing, it was hard to tell if he had winced, or just moved his eyes to a different object. He touched one foot barely against the table, slowing down his movement backward, allowing for celery to catch up. She was lunging at him with reverse grip? Launching off of the table, Kaegen grabbed a floating candle, suspending himself for a few seconds, just long enough for the girl to pass by underneath him. As she passed, and he dropped, aiming for her back with both feet. As he fell, he made sure she could hear his message, talking a bit louder than he usually did.
"Tonight, 11:30.
Come to where feet of bird
Lay down on dirt, not trees
Where only he can dare to tread
That walks on bended knees"
If she understood that, he would see her and marionette at the same time, and form his little group. If she understood, anyway. If he landed correctly, he would push her down, kicking off of the girl and then sprint for the door. Assuming everything worked out, but she did lunge. Momentum should probably be on his side. It wouldn't hurt her too much, not nearly as bad as that knife had hurt. He was going to feel that as soon as the adrenaline stopped pumping, and it was going to be painful.
"Tonight, 11:30.
Come to where feet of bird
Lay down on dirt, not trees
Where only he can dare to tread
That walks on bended knees"
If she understood that, he would see her and marionette at the same time, and form his little group. If she understood, anyway. If he landed correctly, he would push her down, kicking off of the girl and then sprint for the door. Assuming everything worked out, but she did lunge. Momentum should probably be on his side. It wouldn't hurt her too much, not nearly as bad as that knife had hurt. He was going to feel that as soon as the adrenaline stopped pumping, and it was going to be painful.
Shade-Beacon, Master of the Castle of Avarice
14 Apr 2018, 23:16
Table Manners, Anyone?
As soon as she began to lunge, a sentence flashed through her mind, bright and clear as day, yet just a second too late.
Never let yourself fall victim to the claws of momentum.
And so her eyes widened just slightly, her heart skipped a beat, as she suddenly realized her mistake and her target sprang off of the polished wood beneath his feet. If suffering damage is unavoidable, you have two options, the first of which is to direct the damage to a non-vital part of your body. Well, that was a bit useless, seeing as she couldn’t do anything for now. The second is to delay your opponent as much as possible to prevent further damage. Now that she could try, even if it was likely in vain. But she slowed her train of thought to hear his words as he spoke, swiftly but clearly.
Now, knowing it was too late to change anything of her own fate, Cel’s arm muscles tightened in anticipation of the right moment-- timing was crucial, and she needed it right by the millisecond. Now-- no-- now. The girl flung both knives up over her head, the first with considerably more strength than the other in backhand.
As the blades whizzed over her head, she first felt the light touch of Kaegen’s boots on her back, then the full pressure as he barreled onto her, harder than just his weight... was he pushing off forcefully?... She inhaled sharply then cried out as Cel was knocked to the ground, the boy’s weight driving the wind from her lungs.
Instinctively the girl tightened, taking the brunt of the force on her shoulder instead of her head. It was the same shoulder that had been injured some time ago... also by Kaegen. Was there a correlation? Perhaps he and the shoulder had a vendetta for each other.
The dizzying streams of thought made less and less sense over the next second until she snapped back into reality.
Never let yourself fall victim to the claws of momentum.
And so her eyes widened just slightly, her heart skipped a beat, as she suddenly realized her mistake and her target sprang off of the polished wood beneath his feet. If suffering damage is unavoidable, you have two options, the first of which is to direct the damage to a non-vital part of your body. Well, that was a bit useless, seeing as she couldn’t do anything for now. The second is to delay your opponent as much as possible to prevent further damage. Now that she could try, even if it was likely in vain. But she slowed her train of thought to hear his words as he spoke, swiftly but clearly.
Now, knowing it was too late to change anything of her own fate, Cel’s arm muscles tightened in anticipation of the right moment-- timing was crucial, and she needed it right by the millisecond. Now-- no-- now. The girl flung both knives up over her head, the first with considerably more strength than the other in backhand.
As the blades whizzed over her head, she first felt the light touch of Kaegen’s boots on her back, then the full pressure as he barreled onto her, harder than just his weight... was he pushing off forcefully?... She inhaled sharply then cried out as Cel was knocked to the ground, the boy’s weight driving the wind from her lungs.
Instinctively the girl tightened, taking the brunt of the force on her shoulder instead of her head. It was the same shoulder that had been injured some time ago... also by Kaegen. Was there a correlation? Perhaps he and the shoulder had a vendetta for each other.
The dizzying streams of thought made less and less sense over the next second until she snapped back into reality.
16 Apr 2018, 08:34
Table Manners, Anyone?
One of the knives fell short, missing the boy entirely. The other hit hard in the shoulder. The ravenclaw winced as the metal end hit home. Striking his shoulder. He winced, but in the moment of impact, the moment when Kaegen froze, the pain overriding his relatively calm mind gravity took over and brought him down anyway. He recovered less than a second after being hit, and pushed off, sending the girl to the table laden with food. And sending him in the opposite direction.
Flying off, the boy landed on the floor, and immediately took off running. He ran off in the direction of the door, moving low, and fast. His feet were slightly awkward on the floor, not used to the hard stone but his pace was still fast, faster than most kids. If he was lucky, celery would be to busy recovering from a bath of food to realize that he left. She might guess his intent, but he had a head start on anything she was planning on doing. There was a very small chance of her catching up, although she could if she was fast enough. How fast was the girl anyway? She didn't seem faster than him earlier, but she could have been holding back.
Flying off, the boy landed on the floor, and immediately took off running. He ran off in the direction of the door, moving low, and fast. His feet were slightly awkward on the floor, not used to the hard stone but his pace was still fast, faster than most kids. If he was lucky, celery would be to busy recovering from a bath of food to realize that he left. She might guess his intent, but he had a head start on anything she was planning on doing. There was a very small chance of her catching up, although she could if she was fast enough. How fast was the girl anyway? She didn't seem faster than him earlier, but she could have been holding back.
Shade-Beacon, Master of the Castle of Avarice
18 Apr 2018, 02:35
Table Manners, Anyone?
The moment Cel's mind cleared, she shot up from the table to turn towards the door, where a blur of black shot through the exit, grey scarf trailing behind. The motion made her back twinge with pain, and she winced.
As she made to follow, knives in hand, however, the glint of flame from one of the levitated wax candles reflected upon an untouched but alarmed Gryffindor's plate caught her eye. There was something mesmerizing, something familiar about that light, and her gaze traveled back to the candle from which the light was reflected from--
A spark. It was a bright spark, bright and enchanting, something that Cel hadn't quite seen before. It danced along the air before falling onto some kindle and pluming into something bright and orange, though it seemed orange and red and yellow and white all at the same time, always moving, never quite still enough for her to capture its beauty... or perhaps that was its beauty, its constant wild dance and flickering. Young Cel stepped forward, her father with his back turned, reaching out a hand to touch the flickering... thing.
At once, someone pulled her back, giving her one word: fire. That was what this was called, but why couldn't she touch it? It was beautiful... it was dangerous? But it looked so innocent. Perhaps that was why it was dangerous to her, why she was being pulled back.
Cel snapped back to the present in a second, the minute-long flashback contained in a mere moment, and she realized she had been staring blankly at the flame for too long... Kaegen would get away. Somehow, this time, there was no lingering bits of the past.
The girl leaped from the table, darting out the doors of the Great Hall, but no flying scarf was anywhere to be seen. She had lost him, it seemed, and she fled the area, hoping not to be caught and punished by a teacher, thinking as she ran.
But he'd left a clue for her, to find him... tonight, at 11:30.
END
As she made to follow, knives in hand, however, the glint of flame from one of the levitated wax candles reflected upon an untouched but alarmed Gryffindor's plate caught her eye. There was something mesmerizing, something familiar about that light, and her gaze traveled back to the candle from which the light was reflected from--
A spark. It was a bright spark, bright and enchanting, something that Cel hadn't quite seen before. It danced along the air before falling onto some kindle and pluming into something bright and orange, though it seemed orange and red and yellow and white all at the same time, always moving, never quite still enough for her to capture its beauty... or perhaps that was its beauty, its constant wild dance and flickering. Young Cel stepped forward, her father with his back turned, reaching out a hand to touch the flickering... thing.
At once, someone pulled her back, giving her one word: fire. That was what this was called, but why couldn't she touch it? It was beautiful... it was dangerous? But it looked so innocent. Perhaps that was why it was dangerous to her, why she was being pulled back.
Cel snapped back to the present in a second, the minute-long flashback contained in a mere moment, and she realized she had been staring blankly at the flame for too long... Kaegen would get away. Somehow, this time, there was no lingering bits of the past.
The girl leaped from the table, darting out the doors of the Great Hall, but no flying scarf was anywhere to be seen. She had lost him, it seemed, and she fled the area, hoping not to be caught and punished by a teacher, thinking as she ran.
But he'd left a clue for her, to find him... tonight, at 11:30.
END