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Fight Dirty in which Rosalio is a dirty cheater Mar 12, 76 225 Views
15 Replies
Started by Rosalio, May 24, 2018, 06:10 PM
Rosalio
No title
Knight
17 Posts House Asheron Written by Zozma
May 24, 2018, 06:10 PM / 278 Words
Wiping a smear of blood of his cheek, Rosalio glared down his practice opponent. His chest heaved for a moment, a bead of sweat strolling down the side of his throat. His gaze fixed on the other man's jugular and he stared too long. The other fighter grinned, knowing where Rosalio's thoughts were going and ready to head him off at the pass. Still, Rosalio sprang up from his crouching position and he swung his broadsword with all of his might toward the soft spot just under the ribs, showing under the practice armor as it shifted.

His opponent saw it coming and he swung his arm in the direction of Rosalio's, disarming him. But that was what Rosalio had planned. As the blade fell to the wayside, Rosalio's lips formed a serious line, his brows etched together. Using his momentum, he leapt with all of his weight onto his rival's upper body. The rival went clambering backward, waving his arms ineffectually at the air, trying to get at Rosalio even as they dropped down.

The wind was thrust from the fighter's lips and Rosalio let out a triumphant sound as his hands wrapped around his opponent's throat. The fighter wheeled his arms for a second before attempting to push Rosalio off. When he succeeded, he shoved Rosalio hard enough to slide across the dirt field.

"Ch-cheater!" the rival croaked, holding his reddened throat. Then they both looked to their trainer, one indignant, one nonchalant.

@Livia Asheron

Livia Asheron
No title
Merchant
20 Posts 20 Years Female 5' 3" House Asheron Merchant Written by Esmera
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'
May 26, 2018, 05:18 AM / 361 Words
... those weren't live steel weapons, were they?

Livia wouldn't say anything, just yet. Instead, she stood to the side, hands clasped together in front of her, the ends of her long sleeves hiding under her palm. She usually dressed fairly fancily, and certainly looked wealthy, but on the training grounds, it was classically tasteful, long sleeved shirt that made it easy to move and provided some protection from sand and the like, stopping at her hips where it broke into a two panelled skirt, comfortable pants and boots under. It wasn't revealing, or skin-tight, just comfortable, without leaving anything too loose. Practical, but still rather aesthetically pleasing.

The fighters generally didn't practise with live steel. Neither did they do so with intent to actually kill each other... Livia didn't like her fighters dying, not because it was feminine and she was soft, but because she valued life a bit more than most in Dalmasca, clearly. She had nothing nice to say about other blood trainers. Petellius kept throwing his away, Titus wouldn't know a blood stable if it turned into a dragon and bit him, and... the rest? Well, mostly they just cowed to everyone else's demands.

Kassandros wanted to conquer Dalmasca. Livia wanted to conquer the arena. Funny enough, both sought to do so with as little blood-shed as possible. How boring, right?

"A certain level of ingenuity and resourcefulness is required in combat," Livia said, as they looked at her. "Admittedly, though, you don't train to cause actual damage. It's just practise. Nice thinking, though, both of you, but I might suggest a break, here. Those aren't live weapons, are they?" She should hope not. Most should know, by now, her stance on that. It was radical, she knew. Other trainers might have allowed their fighters to battle each other with live weapons, but Livia was not them. Funny enough, she let hers have actual weapons when patrolling.

But, well. If her fighters killed her, she probably deserved it.

Rosalio
No title
Knight
17 Posts House Asheron Written by Zozma
May 26, 2018, 12:47 PM / 183 Words
"And I didn't," Rosalio said as he got to his feet and brushed himself off. Did he? He barely cast a glance in the direction of his opponent. All he'd suffered was a reddened throat. If Rosalio went after him in earnest, he'd be dead with a wooden practice blade stuck through his chest. 

All right, that was a bit much. Rosalio was strong but it would take more adrenaline to impale the guy. Plus, they didn't so much as hate each other as they were rivals. Truthfully, Rosalio enjoyed the fight--he enjoyed the adrenaline, the blood running hard, the feel of bodies and weapons. Pain. He loved it. Not everybody did but he sometimes thought he was born just for this. 

"They're practice blades," the opponent said in an annoyingly petulant tone, obviously still smarting from his loss. Rosalio, in all his confidence, approached Livia with a smile and an upward tilt of the head.

"Are you taking a break?" 

Livia Asheron
No title
Merchant
20 Posts 20 Years Female 5' 3" House Asheron Merchant Written by Esmera
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'
Jun 01, 2018, 04:30 AM / 553 Words
This time. She'd noticed, this one got a bit excited, sometimes. It wasn't anything new, at least, not to her. Once in a while, she happened across a blood fighter that actually seemed to enjoy the games, and yes, some did. Men often did enjoy physical labour intensive things, enjoyed the adrenaline rush, and, when they managed to gain some semblance of it, the recognition. It wasn't new. And in some cases, they could easily get out of hand, and forget what was practice, and what wasn't, that was all. A few times, she'd had to sell one or two of her fighters back to market, because they'd somehow managed to turn morning practice drills into a death trap.

Those were not the best days of her life, to be sure. She'd kept at it, learned to curb it, but she was still a hair uneasy with the particularly overzealous ones. Sometimes, they were dangerous. Other times, they weren't. It was difficult to tell which one would be.

"Just checking," she answered. Naturally, she wasn't terribly close, and hadn't managed to set eyes on them long enough to figure that on her own. They tended to know better, anyway, but once in a grand while, she got a very gung-ho new addition, and often those were the ones that decided to break out the steel. Her fighters could get to it, being as they doubled as house guard, and this one almost struck her as the type. Almost. Enough that she asked about it.

When was the last time she was out here for this, anyway? Who knew. Livia was always so busy, now, between keeping House Asheron and its vassals and assets afloat, to trying to walk the young Kassandros Essair through claiming the imperator's throne for himself, rarely did she manage to come out and oversee training herself, now, albeit she managed small snatches of time here and there. For the most part, though, she left it primarily in the hands of her senior fighters, as they were trained by her, and most of them had similar combat styles, now. House Asheron had a notable lean toward bladed weapons, particularly swords and daggers, but there were a few fist fighters and spearmen around; Livia herself had learned blades (generally, if you learned one, you could sort of use the rest), but her senior fighters had started picking up rather the array of options, and that was good, anyway. It wasn't the end of the world, if she wasn't there to oversee training personally. It wasn't like House Asheron specialised in a specific discipline.

Livia loosed a huff of breath, slightly amused. "I am, yes," she replied. "I thought tea, or something, sounded like a good idea. Why?" She'd just come back from touring her nearest farms, overseeing the wall construction. Sooner or later, she was sure, House Cassimer would try tearing Asheron down, and she intended to make it damn good and difficult on them. Well, him; Lucius and Damian had oh so very little to do with their father's actions and decisions.

Rosalio
No title
Knight
17 Posts House Asheron Written by Zozma
Jun 02, 2018, 02:07 PM / 259 Words
Things definitely seemed to be getting tense but they'd been pretty tense for as long as Rosalio had remembered. Peace? It seemed laughable, even with the words of some prophecy being whispered. Rosalio didn't spend a lot of time listening to things like that; he was more about what he could touch in the moment--on tangible things, rather than flights of fancy. Or fretting. Worrying, as far as he was concerned, got nobody nowhere except more ill equipped to handle stressful situations when they arrived.

Livia, though she did appear to have a lot on her mind--rightfully so--had come by to watch the match. So in Rosalio's head, this meant she was interested in their progress. More importantly, she must have been interested in his progress! So did that mean she intended to do something with that information? Something to assuage her own worries? 

"Why don't we take a break together?" Rosalio suggested. Here was the thing about Rosalio: women were not his "speed," as he'd been known to say. There were few that interested him. Livia Asheron was kind of a different story. In Livia, it was hard to actually see gender--she was beyond that. She had a different kind of appeal, although she was far beyond the reaches of some random blood fighter. 

Didn't matter. Nobody got anywhere without taking risks, even if it did land him with a few lashes or tossed into a cell. 

Livia Asheron
No title
Merchant
20 Posts 20 Years Female 5' 3" House Asheron Merchant Written by Esmera
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'
Jun 10, 2018, 05:16 AM / 385 Words
Probably somewhat unexpectedly, Livia just smiled a bit. It was strange of her, she'd learned, eventually, spending extended periods of time around her blood fighters. It wasn't the only thing she did strangely. When she still had the time to train her fighters herself, that was strange. Most blood trainers didn't actually do any training themselves. What a strange title to give them, then, wasn't it? It wasn't up to her what they were called, of course. But if Dalmasca insisted on calling her a blood trainer, well, training was what she'd do.

"If you like," she answered. "I'm not sure I'll be fantastic company, though." Unsurprisingly, she was already somewhat drained. Wall construction was going well, though, and really, that was the best she could ask for, in this. The towers would start going up, soon, too. Towers and walls; easily able to be torn down with the right machinery, but she highly doubted Marcus would go quite that far. Here, though... would he be foolish enough to hit the estate? That was a possibility to consider, she supposed. Well, there were ilim in this House. Not many, but a few. And her, she was a fire sorcerer; ironic, wasn't it. Fire had nearly killed her, once. Now it couldn't.

Ah, she could use to think about something besides Marcus stupid Cassimer, anyway. Why he'd taken such great offence to Kassandros, anyway, Livia couldn't fathom. Marcus was well past his prime. If he'd wanted imperator, he could've claimed the throne a long time ago. It was hard to be a threat to someone that was not even in your path. That was all semantics. "House Asheron's not too boring for you, is it?" She turned a bit to the side, making it obvious she was going to start walking somewhere. House Asheron's fighters rarely saw the arena proper, anymore. Some found it frustrating, but there was good money to be made in the street fights, anyway. Besides, it did endear House Asheron and its stable of fighters to the commons, and the vast majority of Dalmasca was commoner, after all.

Rosalio
No title
Knight
17 Posts House Asheron Written by Zozma
Jun 11, 2018, 12:21 PM / 321 Words
There was some part of Rosalio that felt like he was missing something. In his attempts to fill that void, he fought, he practiced, he trained. But that void was always there, like something important had been stolen from him that he couldn't get back. No matter how he tried, it slipped his grasp; he couldn't even put into words or thoughts what it was he thought he was missing. 

People--he liked being around them but it was dangerous. A lot of the other blood fighters thought his willingness to chat and be chummy was either some kind of act (it sort of was, really) or it was a way for him to get closer and find their weaknesses (it also sort of was). But he suspected that deep down, he was still reaching out for some kind of personal connection. 

Sometimes, when he observed Livia, he thought she might have felt somewhat the same. There was something in the depth of her gaze that never seemed fully present, like she was thinking about something else, like maybe she wanted to be elsewhere. Maybe she did. She wasn't exactly the bloodthirsty or sadistic type of trainer one would expect to meet. Rosalio initially thought it was because she was a woman but in his experience, women weren't softer than men. In fact, some of the worst people he'd ever met were women. That idea that women couldn't do as well as men in this field was outdated and better left to old fashioned nations like Jihon. 

Given permission, Rosalio kept pace with Livia. Was House Asheron boring for him? His mouth twisted into a wry smile.

"Honestly speaking? Sometimes. I know I'm taking my place for granted but... some of us aren't made for anything except battle." 

Livia Asheron
No title
Merchant
20 Posts 20 Years Female 5' 3" House Asheron Merchant Written by Esmera
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'
Jun 12, 2018, 03:52 AM / 475 Words
So he thought. Somewhere, out there, was something else he was good at. Neither he, nor Livia, had found it yet, that was all. It wasn't like slaves and blood fighters had a plethora of opportunities in Dalmasca. No one really did. Ah, but so many said the same about her, didn't they. She wasn't made to sit in a chair in a pretty building. Livia Asheron was a conqueror, so they said. Even if she never conquered with blade and army, she was always felling an enemy or six, usually in the shadows, through the grapevine. Whisper the right words, you see, in the right ears, and Dalmasca would do the rest.

Not a fucking one of them knew shit about her.

Of course, there were those that became made for battle, because there was no other choice. Kill or be killed; you'd think such things would be sequestered into the small, sandy territory of the blood arena. You'd be wrong. Dalmasca was forever kill or be killed, had been since long before anyone knew the name Livia Asheron, even her parents' names, and their parents before them. The eternal war that was this nation would stop, someday. Either that, or it'd break from the force of spinning so quickly. Who knew? Perhaps Kassandros, but, certainly not her. In Dalmasca, those that watched their backs, met death from the front, so really, there was no way around it. You either learned to stab a bitch, or you died. That was the way of this nation.

"There's supposed to be some great day-long games being held soon," Livia mentioned. "Dalmascan forces heavily damaged Diomike, and we're celebrating, of course. House Asheron have been invited to participate. There's also likely to be a blood fighter match or seven during the festival of Iuna in a few weeks, we'll probably be invited to that, too. If enough of the stable is interested in either, I'll allow it." She doubted the first one, though. Most of the military celebrations ended up with a hard pass, mostly because over half the Asheron stables were Macenian. She was Macenian. All the military victories were over the Macenians.

Ah, she'd almost forgotten. "Though, Kassandros mentioned something about borrowing you, this morning. I'm not sure why." He never did say why. Her knowing why he wanted Gannicus, that made sense, given they'd just had a conversation about it. The one she was confused about was not Gannicus, though. Not that she'd quibble. Kassandros was a difficult person to argue with, to start, and then, you know, he always had his reasons, even if those reasons didn't make sense.

Rosalio
No title
Knight
17 Posts House Asheron Written by Zozma
Jun 14, 2018, 01:15 PM / 179 Words
"Nice," he drawled, a lazy smile crossing his face. Upcoming games would give him more motivation. These days, he felt like everything was blurring into one cross-eyed tavern painting and he could hardly stand it anymore. Sparring wasn't doing it. Maybe a real fight would. Deep down, though, even he had to doubt such thoughts. A real fight would get the blood flowing. A rivalry might spark his interest. Something. Anything. He needed something to do with his hands. 

Before he could expound upon the festival and its games, however, Livia spoke again and what she said almost made him drop his whole pokerface. 

"What?" He asked the question before he thought and then shook his head. Why?--that nearly came after (naturally) but Livia already said she didn't know why. A small crease formed between Rosalio's brow. 

"When would he want to see me?" he asked, an edge of caution in his tone. 

Livia Asheron
No title
Merchant
20 Posts 20 Years Female 5' 3" House Asheron Merchant Written by Esmera
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'
Jun 20, 2018, 05:00 AM / 271 Words
Yes, he did seem the type that would think that. Livia smiled, just slightly, but it both was and was not amused. Incidentally, though, they'd gotten into the house by now. She supposed which way she went didn't really matter too much, so she just decided to head for the parlor. There was almost always tea over there, and someone having it, so, worst that happened was, she had to pour her own tea. Terrible, really.

There were worse things than Kassandros Essair being interested in you. Most likely, if she had to guess, this one had family, somewhere. If usual trends held, probably in House Essair. That was generally what he wanted to borrow her slaves for, that was precisely what he wanted Gannicus for, apparently. He'd made it out to sound like that was entirely self-serving, but he was a liar. She figured that out at mention of having Atenra's brother. Which meant, quite possibly, another of Gannicus' children.

She'd never understand why he had it out for himself, but, whatever. Dalmasca did him a lot more damage than most, that was all.

"Whenever works for you, I'd guess," she answered, folding down into a seat in the parlor. "... you wouldn't happen to have family that are liable to be in Dalmasca, too, would you? Close friends you've lost track of, perhaps?" Either of those would explain what, exactly, Essair wanted.

[ooc: trynna just pick up and go, scuse the awkward if there is any]

Rosalio
No title
Knight
17 Posts House Asheron Written by Zozma
Jun 22, 2018, 04:27 PM / 193 Words
"Family?" Now that was a question for the ages. Rosalio watched Livia take a seat but didn't follow suit. Although he doubted Livia would care if he sat beside her, it didn't feel right. There was a sort of line between being irreverent in speech and in action. So he stood nearby and lightly crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly to the side as he thought about family

Family was kind of a sore spot for him. He had a hard time remembering them. He felt like he was too young to bond properly with anybody, let alone the people that called themselves family. If Kassandros Essair found his family, how did he find Rosalio? And how did he know? Or suspect? He wished he knew. And he wished he knew the intentions of said family. It couldn't be bad, though, right? He couldn't imagine it being bad but... 

"There could be family here," he said, hedging his words as carefully as he could. Alive. Looking for him. It seemed too good to be true. 

Livia Asheron
No title
Merchant
20 Posts 20 Years Female 5' 3" House Asheron Merchant Written by Esmera
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'
Jun 23, 2018, 02:26 AM / 320 Words
That almost seemed like a bad question. Interesting impression to get. Most around here, if they had family, wanted to find it. But it was possible, this one didn't really remember his, or hadn't liked his, maybe. Plenty in Dalmasca didn't really care for theirs, it was just, Livia had a hard time imagining it, herself. She didn't tend to jump to such conclusions, because she couldn't imagine life without her headstrong mother and her perpetually put-upon father, and her sisters that were too hyper for their own good.

Well, no. She could imagine it. She just didn't like what she imagined.

"That'd probably be it, then," she said. "Kassandros has an odd knack for reuniting people with their families and friends they've fallen out of touch with. Sort of his speciality, if you will. If you ever decide you'd rather be in House Essair, just let me know." Quite honestly, she couldn't really see it, if only because House Essair did not participate in the blood games. Their house wasn't boring, though. Certainly they had a lot more going on day to day than House Asheron, merely by being at the forefront of this war with Cassimer.

"I'll give you one of our emblems before you go, so the gate guards don't give you too much fuss. You are, of course, welcome to go whenever you like, Kassandros will likely already know and be expecting you, and you're also welcome to go back from time to time, if you wish." She couldn't well - ... well, she could make him, but, that wasn't Livia's style, either. There were things she was unaware of. Who knew if he even wanted to go? Not her.

Rosalio
No title
Knight
17 Posts House Asheron Written by Zozma
Jun 27, 2018, 08:08 PM / 229 Words
Would his family really be there? Part of him felt numb to the idea. Part of him really wanted to connect with his past, bittersweet as it might be. Rosalio didn't have to be here, after all. He never had to be made into a blood fighter. It was just what suited him. He was glad to do it, too. And he was aware that the other House wasn't well known for its blood fighters. (Quite the opposite, actually.) But Livia was generous--too generous, some might have said--letting him go as he willed and come back, too, as he willed. 

Slowly, the numbness melted away, leaving him to sit and watch Livia for a moment. It wasn't so much that he was surprised by her generosity but he was seeing her in a new light. Appreciative, his lips formed into a genuine smile, no edge, no sarcasm. He edged a little closer to her, eyes lighting up hopefully. 

"Would you mind if I hugged you?" 

He was a more handsy person and gratitude could be expressed through stilted words but it could also be expressed in an embrace. But it didn't seem too wise to just... attack her with a hug. He was liable to get himself stabbed if he approached it badly. 

Livia Asheron
No title
Merchant
20 Posts 20 Years Female 5' 3" House Asheron Merchant Written by Esmera
Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'
Jun 28, 2018, 01:51 PM / 273 Words
For a moment, Livia probably looked pretty confused. That was an odd - well, maybe it wasn't so odd a reaction. She of course, was fortunate in life enough to know hugs could be used to express quite a range of emotions, but she couldn't quite think of one that might fit, here. Hmm. Probably, she wasn't looking at it the right way. It wasn't like Livia had ever been separated from her family, at least not for long (damn her sisters always knowing where she was, it seemed, like ten minutes of peace, that was all she asked for), so she had no standard to run off.

Well, anyway. The confusion dissipated, and she huffed, looking amused. "Sure," she decided. "Why not? I'm so short, though, I'd figure that'd be uncomfortable." Uh. She did stand, then, because, yes, she was pretty short. "Maybe that's better." Livia was, as it happened, probably one of the shortest people in Dalmasca, but she wasn't actually Dalmascan, anyway. Not that genetic traits seemed to really make any logical sense. They just kind of made a mess of themselves, or maybe there'd never really been much of a genetic separation in humes in the first place. Later, thing to think about later.

He did seem genuinely pleased by all this, the maybe finding his family again, at least. Well, maybe it'd work out. Apparently she'd thought wrong, when she thought, for that split second, maybe the subject was a bad one.

Rosalio
No title
Knight
17 Posts House Asheron Written by Zozma
Jun 29, 2018, 07:26 PM / 272 Words
Rosalio's smiled sheepishly. He could tell by her expression that Livia was confused by his request. For a moment, he was certain she was going to reject it. She didn't owe him anything by any means but... she was the deliverer of good news. Great news, maybe. If he had been a much more impulsive person, he might have been foolish enough to simply hug her without her permission but he'd learned by now that was not the way to go. And there were definitely times where he had to rein it in. 

"Nah," he said, pleased that she was willing to allow it. "It's not a problem."

Kinda cute, in its own way, actually. But he had to stop thinking of Livia in such terms. With a smile, he wrapped his arms around her, genuinely happy for once in a long time. There were different levels to happiness. It wasn't even as if he'd lived an unhappy life up until now. Perhaps a lonely one. Perhaps one in which he was searching blindly for something. But it wasn't an unhappy existence. Mostly, he just observed and occasionally made a snarky remark about what he saw. For better or worse, really. 

"Thank you," he said softly. "This opportunity means a lot to me." And the only way he knew how to show that gratitude was in the form of a hug. Man... it had been a long time since he hugged anybody. 

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