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Post by Prismaticlysm on Nov 17, 2018 20:00:06 GMT -6
N i L
Ω Vagabonds | Vindicator Soldier Ω
 "When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt."
~Honore de Balzac Ω
He had dreamt of freedom from the moment he was hauled off to Aodh with his mother turning her back on him. And throughout those many years, the stallion had figured that yearning for freedom was just as good as actually getting it. It was a defense mechanism perhaps, which made true freedom that much sweeter.
To commemorate his newfound freedom, and to rid himself of his ties to Aodh, he had not only burned the bridal that had plagued his muzzle for the past 19 years, but he also sought out a tattooist to cover up his brand. He was silent through the pain, because of the pain of his enslaved life far outweighed the pain of a tiny needle. His only tie left to Aodh, was the small foal he had consequently 'adopted' while fleeing, who was far too young to endure a painful tattoo, but a cloak did well to hide the painful reminder for the child.
Though he had desperately wanted to just run for Serora, he had no idea how to get there, and he felt he owed the Vindicators much for his freedom. Even if it was for a short while, Nil vowed to assist the Vindicators and became one himself. And it was after his tattoo healed that he was approached by Adari, one of the Vindicators who helped liberate him. She offered to help train him, which he initially was going to refuse because of his passive nature, and because...well, she's a mare and he's not that kind of stallion to hurt a mare...but in the end, he agreed to train with her.
With the child, Rex, tucked away with a group of other Cadets, Nil and Adari had set out nearby to a ground where they could spar in peace. And although Alya's free air flowed around him, he couldn't fight the insecurity of what was to come.
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Post by kerarose on Nov 17, 2018 20:32:40 GMT -6
ADARIVindicator Specialist (Spy)
A bright day had dawned when Adari had approached Nil, her hoofsteps echoing softly in the large chamber of the Bunker. He accepted her offer of training, although it was clear that he had his misgivings. After seeing the little foal he adopted, Rex, safely placed with other Cadets, he had followed her outside, into the dense forest. They had walked on, making small talk every once in a while, before the clearing that Adari had deemed sufficient to their training had appeared. She had trotted in, tail high, a smile on her face. The beautiful spring day had Adari's steps growing higher, almost in a fancy gait, even though there were no traces of gaited equines in her blood. Soon Ignacio's summer would come and chase away the cold that had bothered her for years.
She turned to Nil, her smile still in place even as she settled into "business mode." Smiling at the young stallion, she began to stretch one leg, then another. "How much do you know about self-defense, Nil?" she asked, going through her routine stretching that kept her limber. "I doubt it's much, given how Aodhians treat other equines, but my students always surprise me."
She had seen first-hoof how badly some Aodhians could treat their slaves. That lesson- to never trust any master- had been beaten into her early, with her first violent encounter, when she was still quite young. She still saw it sometimes, in her nightmares that jolted her awake, even though they had long before been eclipsed by frightful dreams of her children and their fates. She wondered what had become of them.
Shaking herself out of her daydreams, she turned back to the small stallion. "You have a lot going for you, Nil," she said amusedly. "Even though I am larger and more experienced, there are many ways you could try to get me down, or at least dazed enough for you to make your escape. Try one, and then we'll go from there."
Post 1 // WC: 338
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Nov 19, 2018 19:43:38 GMT -6
N i L
Ω Vagabonds | Vindicator Soldier Ω
"When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt."
~Honore de Balzac Ω
When the smiling mare turned to him, Nil's ears flicked back in their characteristic 'resting bitch face' mode. It was not an act of defiance towards the bay mare, to pin his ears back against his skull; it was pure habit. And awkward enough for him, to feel the soft tendrils of his mane tickling the tips of his ears as it had grown out since his escape. It felt odd, but...good.
Where Adari stretched her legs in anticipation, Nil's were stiff, straight, a sure sign of anxiety. Not many knew of his seeming inability to fight. Only those who birthed him, for they were not true parents to him, as well as the masters he had who tried to turn him into a pit slave. Allowing colts and fillies beat the crap out of him proved not onto to his masters, but to himself, that he couldn't harm another in such a way. Perhaps that was defiance towards his birth.
But now he knew he would have to get over it. Out here, the possibility of being recaptured was a very real danger. He had learned much since becoming a Vagabond, and of Aodh's preference for them as slaves.
He couldn't let that happen.
His ears twitched some as she spoke, ruby eyes falling on her sapphire ones. He swallowed thickly, a shade insecure about admitting the truth.
"Honestly? Nothing. Unless you count running as self-defense." His comment wasn't meant to be humorous though he did utter a quick laugh. He was known as a racer back in the Dark District, it was all he had. "You're not completely wrong on that account..." There were a few Aodhians who had proven to be nothing like the rest, the first in line being Mistress Malia... As if on cue, a jay call sounded from a nearby tree, which Nil glanced at to see his charming companion watching them.
If she were Aodhian, her comment would have immediately rubbed him the wrong way. But she was merely pointing out the obvious; he was a small stallion. But he defied the odds by becoming a formidable racer, and he survived for years as a labor slave. That spoke volumes considering how often labor slaves died.
As he looked back at her, he took in an unsteady breath. He recalled staring at a filly and being unable to move as she launched herself at him. He had no idea how to fight back other than beg for her to stop. "I was supposed to be trained as a pit fighter once...but I admit, since my birth, I have had a hard time...fighting back. I want to. But something stops me...something always stopped me." The last bit of his small speech had him gritting his teeth. There were so many times he wanted to kick the crap out of masters and mistresses, even other slaves. Despite everything she did, Isolt was never one of them.
"How did you learn? To fight back?"
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Post by kerarose on Nov 28, 2018 9:10:54 GMT -6
ADARIVindicator Specialist (Spy)
Adari gazed at the smaller stallion. "Running is most definitely part of self-defense, Nil," she said, meeting the stallion's gaze. "However, you must be able to incapacitate your enemy enough to ensure you make a clean getaway before you run."
"When faced with a difficult situation, there are three things that our brains like to do: flee, fight, or freeze. Fleeing is wise, but unless you know for certain that you have a clean getaway, you must wait to flee until you can clearly get to safety. Fleeing should always come last. Therefore, fighting is usually the best choice, as it gives you the power to disable and disorient your opponents so that you can make your escape. The only thing you must never do is freeze. Do not let fear lock your joints, for you will face the worst of what is to come. Freezing is understandable- your brain wants to figure out the situation, gather information, and try to plan a way out- but those valuable seconds you lose may mean the difference between life and death. Your first instinct must be to fight back."
Adari's eyes widened at the mention of his pit fighter training. She had wondered where his scars had come from, and now the answer was staring her in the face. "A pit fighter? That may make my job easier." Her royal blue teke began to unbuckle her knives- she never left home without them- in preparation for their fighting. "How did you learn? To fight back?"
Ah, there it was. Nil did not like fighting. She gazed off into the woods, her eyes pointed toward Eithne and her children, trapped fighting for their lives. "For me, it is finding a reason to fight. What lights that fire inside of you, that urges you to protect what is yours? Your family, your friends?" She paused for a second, turning back to Nil. "Some fight to protect their property, material things that, personally, I don't see the value of, unless you count my knives." She chuckled a bit at her own joke. "Others fight to protect themselves, to save themselves from bodily harm or death. Pit fighters tend to fall in this category, as do Vagabonds, traveling alone, faced with Aodhian slavers."
"And then there are those who fight to protect others. They fight to protect either those they know, such as their family and friends, or those they don't, but need protecting all the same. Some choose both. I fight to protect my friends, and one day, when my children are freed, I will fight to protect them from ever knowing the bite of a bit ever again."
She turned to Nil, facing him fully, getting into her ready stance. "Now we must find what it is you fight for. As a Vindicator, you pledge to fight for those who cannot. But, as we are learning how to fight, let us try this." She gazed behind the stallion, finding a berry bush a ways behind him. "Imagine that berry bush is Rex, and that I am an Aodhian slaver, intent on taking him back to Aodh to work him to death. You must stop me from reaching that bush. If I touch it for more than three seconds, Rex has been caught and will be shipped back to Aodh on the double. Keep me from getting there."
With that, she backed away to the edge of the rather large clearing, stopping only when her rump felt the tickling of the bush's branches. She took a breath, and leaped forward, intent on touching the berry bush.
Post #2 // WC: 605 |
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Dec 7, 2018 9:30:18 GMT -6
N i L
Ω Vagabonds | Vindicator Soldier Ω
"When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt."
~Honore de Balzac Ω
It made enough sense.
Incapacitate, then make a run for it. There wasn’t much to it. Unfortunately, such a tactic didn’t work against his older sister. He could remember feeling her hot breath on his flank as he tried to outrun her. He never did. Shaking his head of the disturbing memory, he focused his attention on his teacher.
Flee, fight or freeze...his brain had only done the first or the last. Even when his sister was beating him down, he had no motivation to fight back. Even back then, it felt wrong. That was why he was so scarred. Constant abuse from his siblings (instigated by the oldest) for the first five years of his life, then after he was sold off by his own mother, the scarring continued for another year while his masters in Valore attempted to mould him into a winning pit fighter. But he could never fight back, just gritting his teeth and taking the pain as he always had.
He didn’t understand why he felt like that. He had been encouraged to fight back. But he never did.
As he listened to Adari’s explanation, his imagination continued to play out his history in disturbingly vivid detail. He wanted to tell her the truth, about the majority of his scars coming from his own family, but he didn’t want her sympathy. He never wanted sympathy. He wanted freedom. But now he would have to learn how to keep it.
He squinted down his muzzle to peer at the bite marks that lined his muzzle, given to him by his mother on the very day of his birth. His nostrils flared in anger, and ears twitched back to focus on Adari. He silenced a grunt as she continued to explain the ways of the Vindicator, and especially about herself and the way she learned to fight back. Again, it made a ton of sense. He would have proteccted Rex. He
technically already did, by ensuring the injured foal had escaped with him from Valore. He had also desperately wanted to protect Isolt… but in that regard, he had ultimately failed. There was nothing he could have done to change the situation, let alone the stubborn mules mind.
Tossing his head to free himself from the distressing memory of his fellow labor slave lying broken on the dirty cobblestone street of Valore, his eyes settled once again upon those of his teacher.
Protect those who cannot protect themselves....
Turning his head to peer over his shoulder, he glanced back at the bush that Adari had indicated. It wasn’t...particularly hard to imagine the bandaged colt trembling in fear in place of the bush. It wasn’t even hard to imagine that that bush was his younger self. He would have wanted someone to protect him when he was a child.
The sound of hooves had him whipping his head back around, and he could see Adari charging him. A rush of panic flooded through him, and his mind immediately went to the Labor Slave races. How sometimes he would have to think on his hooves if a horse slipped, or something spilled into the street. How he would need to jump over or out of the way, to turn his body almost sideways to prevent a collision.
And what would a pit slave had done? Some might charge back and fight head to head. Others might wait and use the force of the opponent against them, tripping them up to get the advantage. Adari was skilled, there was no mistaking it. He had seen what she had done the night she and the other Vindicators liberated him. If he could just halt her advance for even a few seconds…
Turning to his side, he made an attempt to simply shield the bush with his own body. But his body was twisted ever so slightly so that his hind legs would still be able to kick out if needed. Of course, there was that lingering fear that he would actually hurt her...
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Post by kerarose on Dec 8, 2018 21:54:16 GMT -6
ADARIVindicator Specialist (Spy)
Adari continued her charge, taking in the form of her student. She saw him begin to turn, to angle his hips toward her, ready and able to kick out. She saw the slight shine of fear in his eyes, his high-held head, his flicked-back ears. He had taken her lesson to heart, it seemed, protecting that bush as if it truly was Rex, that young, bandaged foal he had bravely rescued when they had all fled New Valore. A quick flash of pride shot to her heart, as it always did when she saw her students succeed, a small, smirk-like smile forcing up one side of her mouth. It was difficult for those who did not know her to understand when she felt true pride, because it was so often hidden underneath a layer of sarcasm and dark wit, but she practically gleamed with it in certain moments- this was certainly one of them.
But there- he was so focused on using his hind end to shield, to try and scare her off, that he did not protect his front end- his legs were much too stiff, and she thought she could see a trace of tremors there. His entire front end was a textbook picture of tension, his neck, shoulders, and legs stiff. There- that was where she would strike. She could handle a desperate bite better than a powerful kick from the former racer's legs, and so she would turn and attack there.
All of this thought occurred over the space of a mere stride, her mind a well-oiled machine, used to thinking through many things in a short space of time. She continued forward, calculating the reach of the racer's legs, and planned her time to strike. One more stride, then another, and then, just as she was reaching the boundary that would allow her to be kicked, she pivoted, leaping slightly into the air as she angled herself towards his front. Her head snaked forward, ears pinned back, and aimed to deliver a small bite to his neck, one that would give pain but no actual bodily harm. One had to feel pain to learn from combat mistakes, and while Adari would not intentionally harm a student, pain was not outside of her methods for teaching.
So Adari moved, quick and clean, and struck at Nil, only a stride more separating her from the berry bush.
Post 3, WC: 404
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Jan 7, 2019 9:52:10 GMT -6
N i L
Ω Vagabonds | Vindicator Soldier Ω
"When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt."
~Honore de Balzac Ω
Where Adari moved with speed and finesse that would put shame on every Aodhian Courtesen, Nil felt clunky and ill-at-ease like every labor slave he had ever met, except for perhaps Isolt... It felt like slow motion, seeing her charge towards him, him retaliating with the twist of his hips. He could see every muscle ripple underneath bay pelt. For a second, he thought he was racing. Back along the dusty streets of the Dark District, being pursued by a fellow racer. He could see the determination in her eyes that was not unlike the determination a street racer had when they wanted to prove themselves.
As the scene melted away from the dirty greyscale Valore, the rippling green burst around him when the shock of pain shot up his neck. He let out a squeal of surprise rather than pain, though it did hurt some, and his head shot up in reaction. Her brilliant coat shone in his eyes, coppery in all its health. But this wasn’t time to admire her beauty, despite how it was literally in his face. Instead, he recalled his mission, to protect his bush.
With force coiling in his legs like a serpent ready to spring, he lurched forward with every attempt to put himself between Adari and the bush. Even if he had to force her to move around him, it still bought him time to keep the bush away from the mare. Every second counted. In reality, the more he could stall, the longer Rex could run and hide. And although the fated bush was locked in place, he could still imagine the little bit of success he was making. It was better to stay positive, wasn’t it? It was hard to do in Aodh, but out in the beautiful, green world, underneath Alya’s glorious sky, anything felt possible.
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