indispensible | eight. audio & spam. funnyman, gotta try to be something wonderful.

eight. audio & spam. funnyman, gotta try to be something wonderful.

James Stark is in a coma.

[She sounds completely unmoved by this. Entirely. (She shouldn't have used his first name. He'd be upset.)]

[She almost hangs up, then:]

Does anyone want to spar?

warden filter

. . . What do you do? When this happens. How do you . . .

[Not go crazy. Not feel guilty.]

What do you do?

open spam } CES

[For anyone who wants to spar, Vin will be in the CES, having Clifford throw large objects into the air for her to fling coins at and shatter out of recognition. The air is full of falling ash, mist curling under her feet, but the trees and the land are green. She doesn't know what to make of it, and therefore doesn't think about it.]

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[The spell grabs Vin by the ankle and pulls her down, down towards the ground. She strains against it, tugging herself skyward, and, after some struggle, breaks free. Before attacking again, though, she drops coins in a circle around Morgana, hopping from one to the other to keep herself a moving target.]

[Morgana spins in a circle after Vin, hurling spells that have no hope of striking true. She grits her teeth in frustration before she thinks of the coins, and steels herself for an older spell, rooted in nature. A small wind funnel forms, grows, and she pushes it after Vin, searching out the coins to send them flying.]

[A better place to aim - at the same time that Vin is losing her grounding, she is impressed, staring at Morgana until she reaches out and Pulls the coins towards her. She lands hard, but bends her knees and lets pewter absorb the rest of the force, then tries a quick, hard run at Morgana, trying to knock her off her feet.]

[She wishes, abruptly, that she had a sword in her hand. There is the jarring fear of being unarmed as Vin runs at her, despite knowing exactly what she can do.

Maybe it's because she doesn't know exactly what Vin can do.

Instead of throwing up another shield, Morgana tries to knock Vin down instead, thinks hleap on bæc and thrusts her arm toward the other woman. She doesn't know whose magic will win out, and feels her heart thud hard in her chest.]

[Vin feels the weight of Morgana's spell. It slows her down - more than she would have expected it would - but not enough to stop her entirely. After some struggle, she pushes through the spell and begins to pick up speed again.]

[She's at nowhere near top speed when she hits Morgana, but her center of gravity is low and she is determined and has a good amount of frustration built up; when she hits, it's with every intention of knocking the other woman on her back.]

[Her thoughts, and by extension her spells, aren't quick enough. Her experience in battle has so often been steel against steel: she doesn't know how to combat a magic she doesn't understand.

The shield spell comes too late, and Vin his her hard, knocking the breath from her lungs. Morgana doesn't even recognize falling: one moment, she's bracing for impact, the next she's on her back, staring up at the sky. She struggles to breathe, but she rolls aside at the same time, not trusting Vin for mercy or hesitation. She needs distance, and once she's managed to breathe again, she waves an arm as if to ward Vin off.]

How many [she gasps] battles have you fought?

[She neither approaches nor retreats, just lets herself settle on solid ground. Cocks her head like an animal, curious.]

After a while, I stopped counting. It was a war. There are too many battles in war to count.

How did you--[She makes a sound that is half wheeze, half gasp as she fills her lungs again] --learn to fight like this?

[There's something in her eyes. Sorrow? Maybe. She hides it too quick.]

Did you ever meet Kelsier?

Only in passing. [She doesn't catch the shift in her eyes, focused on regulating her breathing again. She can bring Kelsier's face to mind, but she can't recall speaking with him.]

He's the one who taught me.

Before I met him, you could have killed me with a snap of your fingers.

[Vin tosses her hair impetuously, but there's a little of her old fear in there, behind the mask of the court girl. There's a girl who used to cower.]

[That, Morgana sees. She is still a girl how cowers, only she's built a shield around her, grown a second skin to hide it.]

How did you meet him?

[How did he save you?]

[A humorless smile.]

I was about to be beaten to death. He made sure I wasn't.

Then he taught me how to be a knife.

You were fortunate.

[Morgana is almost jealous. Morgause taught her so much, but in the end, it wasn't enough.]

Yes. I know. Most girls don't get to be women where I'm from. I never had a friend who lived to this age. [She never had a friend at all, but that's not her point.] I was very lucky.

You're angry with me?

[She hates the sound of Scaladriel, she hated the sound of Westeros when Tyrion was here to tell her about it, and she knows that in comparison, Camelot is a beautiful, safe haven. But not for her, and that makes her stomach twist.]

I'm always angry.

[Her mouth curves slightly, but she shakes her head.] I'm-- [She can't shape her mouth around jealous, and tries again.]

I wish someone had made me a weapon sooner.

[But she's not even certain that is true.]

[Vin's lips thin. Not a smile, not a frown. Just a shape that's not any other shape. She doesn't look away, though.]

Did you feel alive before you were a weapon?

Yes.

[Her throat goes tight after the word spills out, all unplanned. It's true, but not completely.]

Before I felt trapped.

Would you go back there? Back to not knowing.

[To ignorance.]

No.

[Her tone isn't so certain, though. Her body language says maybe. Part of her wants to say yes. She shakes her head.]

Not every memory I have of ignorance is blissful. There was still ugliness in the world. I just wasn't as affected by it.

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eight. audio & spam. funnyman, gotta try to be something wonderful.

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