kollo_rpg | summer 9 - a chimera montage (open)

a. cabins, morning

[ Soft guitar lines float out from behind Lingonberry Cabin. It's the kind of music that makes you think of someone sitting quietly by themselves on a large flat-topped rock, a little brooding, a little wistful.

That person is Zelgadis. He's moved on from his fantasy-adventure-guy-in-a-cape look to jeans and a white zip-up hoodie, playing a mellow acoustic guitar at the trees. ]

b. woods, noontime

[ You spot this blue guy, back in cape-guy garb, in a small clearing visible from the path through the woods. He's practicing sword thrusts with what looks like a wooden sword, but a closer examination shows that he's taken the brush head off a broom, wrapped cord around one end to form a handle, and tied a small stick as a cross piece to make the guard.

What kind of nerd works on his sword form while on vacation, anyway? ]

c. farm, afternoon

[ There's a goat up on a milking stand, held steady in the wooden head catch while happily munching in a bowl of feed. It doesn't seem to mind that the hands pulling on its teats are hard and stony; it's just happy for the relief. ]

Good girl, Starlight. Nice and easy.

[ Zelgadis gives the goat some quiet encouragement while working on filling up the bucket. ]

d. wildcard

[ Drop me a PM/PP if you want some other flavor of chimera! ]

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[Lisa isn't sure what to expect when she hears the sound of strings and starts to follow it; it's somehow unlike everyone else's style she knows. No need to bring her bass yet, but it's something to consider for later. There shouldn't be anyone too dangerous here... probably.

When she finds the man more or less chilling in the copse of trees, she's taken aback for a moment - who is this? Must be new - but she rolls with it well enough, leaning against a tree herself while he plays. It's soft and contemplative, but she likes it. Different is fine, right? Her body sways slightly with the tune, almost unconsciously.]

[ Zelgadis pauses at the end of a chord progression when he notices someone...swaying? To what he was playing? ]

Ah, I didn't expect an audience.

[ He actually looks kind of bashful, as if he didn't expect that if he was playing music audibly in the vicinity of several other cabins, someone would eventually notice. ]

Oh, sorry! I just kind of appeared out of nowhere, I guess. [She shifts forward off the tree, smiling to not seem so creepy.]

Music is important to me, so when I heard you, I just, well. [A gesture to herself.] I ended up here before I really noticed?

[ She seems earnest enough, but Zel just offers her a small shrug. ] It's just a way to pass the time for me, I suppose. I don't make a habit of performing for others.

[ But still, his stony fingers idly trail over the strings, working through notes in a way that seems like a careful, almost clinical exploration of how certain sounds might fit together. ]

[ Being able to walk out in the sunlight again has been... nice. It's been five years since the last time and that only lasted for a few months — and wasn't even real, he thinks — so walking around in the daylight? Feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin? It's a bit of a novelty and although he's still very much nocturnal, Spike's found himself talking little excursions into the woods just for the experience of it.

It's during one of these solitary walks that he comes across Zel with a sword and hey, if that's not just a touch nostalgic. He watches from a distance for a moment, moving as silently as he can through the trees before making his presence known. ]

Preparing for demons, are you?

[ Zel's sharp ears pick up some footfalls, but he's in the middle of rehearsing a parry sequence and can't be bothered to look over, until Spike speaks. ]

Hardly. No reason not to stay sharp, even without any threats. [ He drops his defensive position and stands up straight, slinging the distinctly not-sharp broomstick over one shoulder out of habit. ] Unless you're here to tell me you've accidentally raised the dead and need me to put them back down for you.

[ He smirks a little; practicing his sword work made him feel kind of punchy. One gets itchy hands when life gets too peaceful. ]

[ He stifles a chuckle - oh, if Zel only knew exactly how correct he is with that joke. ]

I never raise the dead by accident. [ On purpose, on the other hand. He eyes that broomstick with some apprehension. Worse men than him have met a dusty end at the point of weapons just like that one. ] Hard to practice against trees. They don't punch back.

Alright, then. [ Without wasting another moment, Zel grabs a stout stick from the ground, snapping off a few of the smaller twigs to clean it up, and tosses it towards Spike. ] Feel free to punch back.

[ He steps back into a defensive position. ]

[ He catches it, feeling the heft of it in his hand, giving it a little twirl. It'll do, for demonstration purposes. Sly smirk slowly spreading across his face, Spike nonchalantly falls into a slow pace, circling Zelgadis. ]

You sure about this? I hit hard.

If you break your weapon, I'm not making you another one. [ How hard could he possibly hit?

Zel watches Spike handle the stick; the twirl shows he knows how to heft it and find its balance point, and the slow circling lets them both size up each other's style. He tracks Spike's arc, keeping a profile turned and his own stick ready to catch and deflect any swipe that falls within normal human response times. Zel's speed is superhuman, so he's a little cocky. ]

Oh yeah, like I need you to make me a weapon. [ He is a weapon, dammit!

If there's one thing Spike's good at it's keeping a casual appearance in a fight. He's also not human, so when that strike does come it's practically out of nowhere - he's not giving too much away with his shift in stance, just gives an experimental swipe towards Zelgadis. ]

You're the one who was walking around unarmed until now.

[ That swipe comes faster than Zel expected, and he barely gets to swat the stick aside with a conservative twist. The hard broomstick is stronger than the branch he gave Spike, so he's holding back quite a bit on the contact. ]

Hm, you're not slow.

[ But he doesn't take much time to reset, countering with a low jab right away, following with several short slashes, each move coming as soon as their sticks collide. He's testing Spike's defensive endurance with more quick movements. ]

Aw, a compliment so soon? And here I'm just getting warmed up.

[ His reflexes are good, of course - he would't have been alive for this long if he wasn't great at dodging and blocking pointy sticks being jabbed at him. There's a sharpness in his eyes, a lingering anxiety because if this does go bad it'll go really bad. They say you can't die on this island, but he's already dead. Can't take for granted that they thought of that detail.

Playing on the defence isn't really how he does things even now, so after a moment he strikes out again, two forceful swipes just to see if he can make contact with something other than broomstick. ]

You must be desperate for compliments if that sounded like one.

[ Of course, Zel has no idea why Spike seems to be taking this a little more seriously than a friendly spar. But he's impressed that Spike's more than keeping up; most randos Zel's crossed swords with have gone down easily.

He's expecting a strike back eventually. The first one gets turned down, but Spike's recovery is fast, and when the second one lashes out, Zel twists to avoid it. The stick glances off his side, and he takes a step back to concede the round, giving Spike a small nod in appreciation. ]

Alright, I guess you're someone I'd rather have on my side, after all.

[ To be fair, this is as close to a friendly spar as he comes. There's always a sliver of death in everything he does, of seriousness — you have to stay sharp, or you turn into dust at the end of a sharp stick. He has no interest in meeting such a fate here, or anywhere else.

He takes a step back when Zel does, acknowledging that the round is over but not dropping the cocky, challenging grin. ]

That's it? C'mon, you can do better than that!

summer 9 - a chimera montage (open)

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