breath in and pull the trigger

Sparrow · 04-15-2012, 08:36 PM

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Sparrow toyed with her hair strands. The rope had to stay behind today, since it could somehow get in the way of the task she was set to do: learning how to use a bow.

She remember the other day of Vesper telling her about the idea of everyone in the clan training to learn this thing called archery, and some where even helping build these perches (like they were going to pretend they were birds, which confused Sparrow at first) for others to use if the clan was ever to be attacked, which chances are these days, very high. Without quite knowing what she was getting into, the Optio’s sister signed up for both, and offered to help make the camouflage, which seemed to be the most sensible thing for her to do—despite wanting to help further, she knew her body could not take the labor that was required for building the actual platforms—and to learn how to shoot, which was a pretty good idea within itself. While lacking physical strength, Sparrow thought she was pretty good with her hands, and assumed that her aim couldn’t be that terrible, so this could be a big vice for her when battle comes, whenever she would be ready for it.

Vesper seemed to approve, since she assigned a boy named Max Klein to teach her. She briefly met him afterwards—and was absolutely nervous to meet him again. Though he was in lupus form, he was bigger than she would have been if she was in the same shape, and that fact threw her off a little even though she was in optime form at that time; this meant that he was going to be a tower compared to her when he was in optime form himself. They only talked long enough for them to agree what day for them to practice, and Sparrow quickly scurried off to try to settle her nerves. She half-hoped that she did not offend him, while the other half dreaded meeting again.

She already sniffed out two bows and a couple of arrows, finding them in a room that were full of other items. Sparrow assumed they were free to take, at least to borrow for this occasion, but still was a bit concerned that she had done wrong. But, her mind had bigger things to worry about than taking someone else’s bows, and could only think about how much of a brute Max would be. She had established the needed items on the ground, and her hands nearly flew up to her hair the moment she had put them down, needing security that only her rope could provide. Sadly, she couldn’t tie her mane all in knots, and had to settle with letting a strand of hair crawl through her fingers as she apprehension the arrival of the white male.

Word Count → 478

The assumptions in this posts are scary in number. ; m ; Please PM me if anything needs to be changed, especially the part about meeting with Max; it said he preferred Lupus form, so I took a shot at that.

Max Klein · 04-15-2012, 10:17 PM

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art by crypsis

The whole idea had been exciting for him. It helped to alleviate the tension that brewed within the clan, all wounded and unsure of what would be coming in the next day. Max himself had suffered a savage wound on his left side, but Enkiel was a capable healer and had bandaged it well. He knew it would scar—it was too deep not to. Still, he was ready for the next fight. Even Ezekiel had been seriously wounded, which told the Hastati that no one was safe. He patrolled regularly and practiced often, though the staff fighting was growing wearisome. They needed steel weapons, not strong oak. The other dog-hybrid had cited Max’s affinity for the hatchet and suggested he practice with that…after disarming him with a sharp blow from the quarterstaff, of course.

Sparrow was to be his student, which was a new challenge. Max had only taught in a secondary sense. While he had trained with Vesper, he had been there with Ezekiel most of the time. This was a solo task and one he intended to do well at. If he was to be a Hydra, or even Triarii, he needed to know how to teach.

Max was armed with a bow constructed in similar fashion to Ezekiel’s. This required a strong arm, but he was much larger than his mentor and well built for such a task. It was carried in one hand while a simple quiver rested against his back, leaving one hand free. He had scrounged up a small bag of supplies for their task; paint from Talitha’s cave, an extra bowstring, and some smoked meat. While they were more than capable of hunting, Max’s size meant he ate more often and keeping snacks on hand allowed for this.

The tall hybrid found the older woman near the Mansion, already with a bow. This pleased him, but did not surprise him—Vesper was well respected in his mind and her sister given some faith because of this. Max was a full head taller then she, but he wagged his tail as he approached and regarded her in a friendly manner. If not for his shaggy, unruly hair and too-long canines, one would hardly think he was a monster. “You ready?” He asked, pale eyes coming to her face. She was very pretty, though thin and almost sharp around her curves.

Sparrow · 04-16-2012, 01:37 PM

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She was right, though not on the point. He was bigger than her, but not as tall as she expected. Either her estimations were wrong or her mind pulled him out of proportions to prepare for the worse, which was actually not all that bad. It was hard to remember that she was older than him, and tried her best to appear calm, collected, like an older canine would do. Hands slowly receded from her mane, and her mouth formed a gentle smile at the boy’s friendly demeanor. Yes, he had a beastly appearance, but his yellow eyes weren’t like a monster’s—at least, they weren’t like Marcel’s—and once she realized this, she did not feel quite as nervous. She was actually able to meet his gaze without feeling the urge to look away, which made her absolutely happy that she was able to do so, though it did not show upon her face.

“Yes,” she simply replied, and grabbed a bow to show her preparedness. She was ready to pick up the second bow she gathered, but noticed that Max had one of his own, so left it be in case someone else came to do some solo training or whatever the case may be. She inspected the bow: it was simply a stick curved into an arc, with a string attached, or at least that’s how Sparrow viewed it. “It looks easy,” she remarked, but then she furrowed at her words as she looked back upon the bow. “…Do you hold it by the string?”

She wanted to take her words back. Already, the thing’s simple anatomy confused her, not knowing where to hold it, much less how she was supposed to shoot other sticks with it, and held it with both hands for the time being. It was as if she was learning how to make traps again; it was a whole new insight, a world really, that she was not born in but was pushed into it away. But, she was not alone this time, and looked towards Max with a meek look upon her face, clearly showing that she needed his assistance upon the manner.

Word Count → 361

OOC here!

Max Klein · 04-25-2012, 10:48 AM

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art by crypsis

There was only a loose structural hierarchy within Inferni, and as such, the instinctive drives were lessened to the point of familiarity. With strangers Max could show his true character, but here he was a well-trained (if not well-mannered) boy of the clan. Man, now—he had not been a boy for many moons now and it showed. A toothy smile cut across his face, showing his too-long canines. “You can for now,” he commented, and motioned for her to follow.

He trailed towards the back of the grounds, and motioned to the bow in her hand as he began speaking. “When you fire, you will hold it by the wood part; the limbs. You can think of it as a part of your arm—a weapon must always be a part of you, regardless of what it is.” Ezekiel’s words, coming through his mouth. Max had not realized he had memorized them before. “We’ll start simple, though,” he added, and wagged his tail behind him.

They trailed out to the woodland just beyond the fence, and after several yards came to a halt. There was a small clearing ahead and a tree marked by paint. Max pulled his bow off. “Right now, I just want you to learn how your arms should be. Watch me,” he instructed, and pulled an arrow from his side. His arms moved instinctively, forming a sharp line at his shoulders. The stance was flawless. Above all else, Max was a terribly gifted weapon. He relaxed and turned to the older woman.

Sparrow · 04-26-2012, 01:37 PM

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Max seemed to have patience, something that she was not used to. He flashed his teeth again in a grin, but she somehow knew that it was not intended to be spiteful, so took no offence and followed his motions. Sparrow wondered off-handedly exactly how she was going to do this. It was not that she was not physically capable—shooting sticks with a pointed end called for barely any labor to complete. She was concerned about what she will shoot, if she was ever able to complete training. The girl disliked the idea of killing others, except for Marcel—he was excusable, for he deserved no mercy—especially by her hands. But, she decided that she’ll cross that river when she would approach it; besides, she will probably never see battle, knowing that others will view her as more of a weakness than strength at the current moment.

Sparrow listened intently to the his words, quickly adjusting her grip to hold on the wooden part of the object, not wanting to feel as if she was doing wrong anymore. She was slightly confused when he mentioned that mentally the weapon should be a part of her, but, did not ponder long on the thought, knowing that perhaps its meaning will come later on in training. She slightly smiled at the white male when he spoke of simplicity, glad to be starting from the basics.

After a couple of moments they came to a stop, and the fawn glanced around the woods curiously. Almost immediately she noticed the tree, splashed with color that was unlike its bark. Distracted by the target, she did not see Max remove his bow until he spoke again, and watched the pose he made. It was made perfectly, and Sparrow then saw how the bow was supposed to launch the arrows, as well as how his arm position played its part in the scheme of things.

Giving a tiny nod, she kept one of the arrows she brought with her, leaving the others by her feet. She notched the arrow with some difficultly, but after a second of fumbling, was able to keep its place, though it was crooked. Sparrow then raised the weapon at chest-height, similar to what Max had done, and tried to mimic his stance. It was not the best, to say at the least; the arm holding the bow was not stretched to their fullest, bending a little at the elbow; the string was not even taunt, only pulled to where it was barely bent, Sparrow fearing that she may somehow break it by pulling back too much. She thought she did good, making no adjustments, and glanced at Max to see if he approved.

Word Count → 454

I don't know anything about archery. ; - ; Just pretend her pose is horrible in case I didn't describe it being wrong the right way. I kinda use this picture as reference for a proper pose.

Max Klein · 05-01-2012, 07:18 AM

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Sorry if this is a bit confusing; he's standing behind her/close to her and likely touching her as he explains things.

art by crypsis

His arm lowered to allow him room to move, and a set of eyes the color of spring flowers looked over the red woman. He could not hide the judgment within them—he was made for such purpose and his task was now to do just that. She was inexperienced and it showed plainly, but he did not fault her for such a thing. If he had not been found by Ezekiel and given training so early on he too might not understand the true mechanics of shooting.

“Lock your elbow,” he instructed, and used a free hand to tap it from underneath. Physical instruction was easier to him than explaining. While a gifted storyteller, Max lacked the finesse needed for true teaching. Ezekiel had always been blunt with him, and this suited the coydog just fine. “Keep this arm even with your other one,” the warrior went on, and shifted himself to stand behind her. From here, he was able to better position her hands and feet.

“Strong stance,” Max added, and nudged at her back foot. “If I hit you right now you’d fall over. Pretend you’re a tree—spread your toes out, get a grip.”

Sparrow · 05-01-2012, 06:51 PM

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Her assumed moment of achievement quickly faded from mind as she discovered a moment before Max proceeded to correct her, that she had not copied the man’s pose correctly. Though slightly crestfallen, she was not that much disappointed that she failed to do the right thing on her first attempt; she expected no less, though she had the half-hope that she would somehow find it easy from the start. Besides, it was easy enough, right, like what she first guessed? It didn’t seem that hard, or at least the sun-eyed hybrid had made it look natural for a canine to shoot arrows from a bow.

She felt slightly surprised when Max simply taped her elbow despite fully seeing him doing the action and made no motion to avoid him prior to it, the appendage quick to follow the instructions it was given. For a moment Sparrow hoped that the elbow position was all she made error with, but it became clear a second later that it was not the case.

Even though she told her probably twenty times not to be afraid in the couple of minutes that passed, she could not help but feel terrified as Max stood behind her. She couldn’t quiet see him, and that alone made her nervous. But, she managed to keep a poker face and was able to keep herself from shaking, focusing her sight on the painted tree ahead and on that alone. She kept telling herself that the white beast-looking man will only be showing her how to shoot, and that helped a little, surprisingly.

Though she felt stiff, her foot moved easily when Max nudged it—she saw where his words were true, though half-thought that he could knock her over even if she had the standings of a rock. But, she half-murmured, half-squeaked an “okay”, and followed his advice. She became more attentive on the tree ahead of her, trying to imagine that she was the tree. She thought of herself calm, still, unmoving. Tall, proud, a being that could not be knocked down by mortal hands. Like the roots that sunk into the ground, her tan toes found hold in the soil, and for a moment felt like what she thought of the tree. She felt pretty darn good.

The feeling was brief before it evaporated, but Sparrow felt a bit more confident and less scared of the snow white Hastati.

Word Count → 402

I understood the post perfectly.~ nun

Max Klein · 05-07-2012, 08:20 AM

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In comparison, Max was still learning when it came to the bow. He was not as naturally talented as Ezekiel, but he was stronger and did not tire from the repetitive motion as quickly. Distance combat was something he did not favor, knowing his strength was in being close and personal with the enemy. Archery was, however, an effective and deadly means of controlling a situation. If they had a line, as Alma had suggested, then a horde of invaders could be cut down long before they reached the innermost part of The Waste. That idea was thrilling to him.

The big hybrid was close enough that he could sense her body shifting. It was exciting to realize he was teaching someone, Max realized suddenly, and smiled broadly at the idea. Him, a teacher. Up until recently he had never considered himself true equal, but now he was doing what he had wanted to since the ranks had first been explained to him. No one else would need to worry if they were capable of defending themselves. No one else would get hurt.

“Good,” he said, and reached over her arm. “Take the arrow and use your other hand to help guide it; your other hand should hold the end of the arrow, near the feathers. Don’t squeeze the nock—the wood part after the feathers—or you’ll mess up your shot. You should spread your strength out evenly. Think about the tree,” Max went on. “If you were a tree, you’d hold onto all the leaves the same.”

He drew his own arm back in a two step motion. The first went sharply high, elbow out, and then drew back fully until he was touching his lower jaw. “Full draw this time,” he instructed. “Balance the pull by pushing the bow forward, keep your balance.”

Sparrow · 05-07-2012, 11:38 AM

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Not wanting to lose the pose she was in how, she slightly turned her head to show that she was listening, and remained quiet as she took his words to mind. She was easily taught, and despite the awkwardness she felt towards the younger male, his teachings made her calm, the metaphors providing some comfort and moral strength. Young as he was, he had a way with the voice, and it became obvious that what he was doing right then and there, teaching her a skill that one day in the near future save a life, was what he was made to do.

She followed his words as he spoke, positioning the end of the arrow on the string like she had done earlier--though this time she actual knew what she was doing. She held it where Max told her too, though his next instruction corrected her once more; she had gripped onto the pointed missile tightly, afraid that it’ll somehow fly out of her hands with the faintest release of her hold. But, the beastly man was the expert here and once again adhered, loosening her fingers bit until it felt ready to soar, though it was still secured.

Sparrow glanced at him once last time as he posed again, and returned her yellow gaze to the tree ahead. Again she imagined herself like a trunk, and pulled on the string while the bow was pushed forward. She felt it bend slightly, and for a moment of fear wanted to release her hold on the weapon or pause where she was, but the string was not as drawn back as Max’s was, and continued to pull. Her light hand made contact with her muzzle, as it had done with the other, and drew back no further.

She felt powerful—the arrow that was posed to be launched begged to be released from its pull, to make its mark in its guide’s target, whether it is bark of a tree or perhaps in the near future, flesh that claimed holy justice. She felt awed by the strength that she found within herself, though the bow provided support, and for a moment was afraid; Sparrow was not used to have such a force at her fingertips, and feared it. But, she did not allow herself to sway, and remained in her still stance, only the slightest of breath to show that she was not a statue that was frozen in rock.

Word Count → 411

OOC here!

Max Klein · 05-17-2012, 01:35 PM

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art by crypsis

To hold a weapon was to know power. Any fool could wield steel or stone, but to truly know what these armaments meant was to be given a greater strength. Ones body was a weapon as well, but not in this manner. An arrow could kill from yards away. A sharp blade could strike deeper than claw and tooth. Had Ezekiel not, in a warped lesson once meant for healing, shown him what vital areas would give a sure death? The healer’s lessons had been corrupted as had his leader, but Max saw none of this. He saw only the path ahead of him.

Sparrow was quick to learn, and watching her, he felt a rush of elation. He followed suited with her position, taking up his own weapon. The draw was made quickly, elbow abducted and feet forming a sharp base below his hips. Both eyes focused on the target ahead, and with an exhale, he release the arrow. It cut through the air sharply, striking close to the omphalos of their target. Expectantly, he stared ahead yet—she had yet to take her shot, and he intended to see what she was capable of. If her quick learning proved anything, he would expect great things from her.

Sparrow · 05-17-2012, 05:46 PM

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She had heard it fly better instead of seeing it with her own eyes, the speed at which it traveled being able to cut noisily through the air. Sparrow had only saw the slight of Max’s arrow, and could only distinct its shape when it pegged itself into the tree, its mark close to the target’s center. She know looked upon the weapon and its master once more with new eyes; yes, the white male was tall, a brute frankly, but he also had speed and distance on his side, his aim deadly. It was a terrible combination, or at least it would be against all who find themselves at the end of the point of the arrow.

For whatever reason, the woman felt nervous, her heart shivering within her bosom. The thought of failure grew in her mind, and it threatened to sway her, as if her own mind could will her hand to move the wrong way if it felt the satisfactory of it. Everything was an inner battle for Sparrow, and she detested it. She wanted to continue to spite herself, but at that moment, she felt too proud, and turned her emotions to the weapon in hand. She funneled her anger into the arrow, shoving all her frustration into its point. Even if it would miss, it would dig greedily into the ground, the power of its launch into the soil revenge enough for her.

Sparrow felt herself tense, the string pulled tighter until she could have sworn it trembled in pressure, or it could have been her own quivering. She only held it for half a second before she released it, the breath she did not know she was holding also escaping with the arrow. Like Max’s, it was difficult to follow, but this was her arrow, and was able to follow its trail from start to finish. It met the tree’s hide, which she found was an accomplishment in itself. It actually managed to stick itself near the bull’s eye, though it was clear even from their distance that she was not as close as the male’s own arrow. But, it was her first draw. It was near perfection. Humbly, she glanced at the man’s yellow eyes, unsure what to think of this; all her anger at herself flew away with the arrow and her free breath, leaving her rather winded.

Word Count → 396

OOC here!

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