Revisions
Posted: Thu Feb 06, 2020 2:10 pm
Quietly, the mostly-redhead slipped through the doors of the Outback's main building. Not surprisingly, it had been generally quiet here as of late, especially in the original building. Once the door closed, she canted her head toward the storage room to listen. All seemed still, empty; she heard nothing. With a faint nod she moved toward a generic Rask ring in the main section. One hand was on the rounded midsection lightly; even the loose flowing clothing couldn't hide the pregnancy at this point. She appeared, had she been human, approximately 6 months along. Her pants were also loose, easy to move in, and tied at the soft boots at her ankles.In her other hand, a long wrapped package. It was flatter than simply round, so obviously not a staff. It had the length and shape, however, of a different type of weapon. Still, though, it was wrapped in layers of linen and tied with a rope, knotted where a hilt would likely be. Mayhap it was strange that she brought it to the famed home of fist-fighting, but mayhap she'd a mind to use it. Or find someone.
She carefully eased into the empty ring, ducking under ropes. Once inside, she made toward the very center. After a brief look around, she dropped her package onto the mat and followed herself, carefully lowering so that she could sit cross legged, facing it. Hands rested on her knees and her green-gold eyes fluttered closed.
Soft, even breaths in, and then exhaled. "Arlen," she finally murmured, a single name kept close in the cold still air. "Have you forgiven me? I'm not sure if I've forgiven myself, but I need to, don't I?"
After a time, her head canted slightly left. Mayhaps she had heard something in the nether. Her eyes remained closed, however, and a faint sway from side to side followed some inner current, or music.
"Five years," she eventually continued, but only those two words before turning again to the silent contemplation.
That was how Gloria found her, and the not-unwelcome disturbance roused Jaycy from her meditation to have a short conversation. Along the way, Jaycy brought the package from ring to the bar, setting it on the bartop while the other woman was there.
She had turned to find a bottle of water, even as she was listening to Gloria, but she turned too late to say goodbye when the woman made her exit. With a small smile, Jaycy saluted the air after Gloria with the bottle she had eventually found. Opening it, she took a sip and leaned against the bar again, returning her gaze toward that package, the silence of the place having resumed.
"I asked Tass, but am I really ready," she mused, out loud, to the air. The nice thing about that silence was... there was no one to be a smart ass in response. She chuckled softly to herself at the stream of thought, and she mockingly saluted the hopefully non-working cameras. Even if they were working, how much sense would this all make to others anyway?
Her gaze drifted toward the place where the Fern used to stand, then back to her package.
One more sip from the water before she set the bottle down, shuffling closer to the thing that had been her focus since she'd gotten here. A hand extended, then withdrew, then reached out once more. Fingertips rested, just barely there, on the rope's end. Digits curled onto the rope, faintly stroking it, gliding from rope to cloth, all the way to the tip. The movement was reverent, slow, and deliberate. She tapped the end twice and trailed back toward the rope.
Finally she lifted her other hand, bringing both to the knot. "Guess I'll just have to find out." The words came with less conviction than a person would have liked, but really, it was dangerous, this package. Slowly, hesitantly, she undid the knot that held the package's covering closed. Fingers dug into the strands to pull it apart, but finally it gave way. Still, though, she too-carefully unwound the rope from its multiple circuits of the package. FInally though, she freed it and dropped the length onto the bartop nearby. The linen remained in place, not disturbed by the commotion a few seconds ago.
By the time her hand hovered over the linen, she was half holding her breath, inhaling slowly, eyes wide. A pause, then she dived in, peeling the edge of the cloth away. Another layer, and a third, and then the other edge. The redhead took her time, halting over the last layer, the last shred of protection from the monster within... the symbol of the monster she'd been five years ago. The monster terrified her, but only because she knew it all too well. At the end, however, she plunged. The last bit of linen revealed her old friend, her comfort, her short sword from her time as a dueler in the Arena, and in her life and career before. She let the breath out slowly, eyes wide as she stared at the thing.
It wasn't just the weapon, of course. It came nestled in its scabbard and ready to wear with her sword belt. Jaycy finally, after what seemed like hours, lifted the sword by its belt and secured it around herself, hands visibly shaking and causing her to fumble. Eventually, however, the sword rested at her hip. She turned, testing the feel, and adjusted, and repeated the process until she was relatively satisfied. "Huh," was her only comment at the conclusion of the process. She picked up her bottle of water from the bar, rounded the end, and wandered out, leaving rope and linen behind.
She carefully eased into the empty ring, ducking under ropes. Once inside, she made toward the very center. After a brief look around, she dropped her package onto the mat and followed herself, carefully lowering so that she could sit cross legged, facing it. Hands rested on her knees and her green-gold eyes fluttered closed.
Soft, even breaths in, and then exhaled. "Arlen," she finally murmured, a single name kept close in the cold still air. "Have you forgiven me? I'm not sure if I've forgiven myself, but I need to, don't I?"
After a time, her head canted slightly left. Mayhaps she had heard something in the nether. Her eyes remained closed, however, and a faint sway from side to side followed some inner current, or music.
"Five years," she eventually continued, but only those two words before turning again to the silent contemplation.
That was how Gloria found her, and the not-unwelcome disturbance roused Jaycy from her meditation to have a short conversation. Along the way, Jaycy brought the package from ring to the bar, setting it on the bartop while the other woman was there.
She had turned to find a bottle of water, even as she was listening to Gloria, but she turned too late to say goodbye when the woman made her exit. With a small smile, Jaycy saluted the air after Gloria with the bottle she had eventually found. Opening it, she took a sip and leaned against the bar again, returning her gaze toward that package, the silence of the place having resumed.
"I asked Tass, but am I really ready," she mused, out loud, to the air. The nice thing about that silence was... there was no one to be a smart ass in response. She chuckled softly to herself at the stream of thought, and she mockingly saluted the hopefully non-working cameras. Even if they were working, how much sense would this all make to others anyway?
Her gaze drifted toward the place where the Fern used to stand, then back to her package.
One more sip from the water before she set the bottle down, shuffling closer to the thing that had been her focus since she'd gotten here. A hand extended, then withdrew, then reached out once more. Fingertips rested, just barely there, on the rope's end. Digits curled onto the rope, faintly stroking it, gliding from rope to cloth, all the way to the tip. The movement was reverent, slow, and deliberate. She tapped the end twice and trailed back toward the rope.
Finally she lifted her other hand, bringing both to the knot. "Guess I'll just have to find out." The words came with less conviction than a person would have liked, but really, it was dangerous, this package. Slowly, hesitantly, she undid the knot that held the package's covering closed. Fingers dug into the strands to pull it apart, but finally it gave way. Still, though, she too-carefully unwound the rope from its multiple circuits of the package. FInally though, she freed it and dropped the length onto the bartop nearby. The linen remained in place, not disturbed by the commotion a few seconds ago.
By the time her hand hovered over the linen, she was half holding her breath, inhaling slowly, eyes wide. A pause, then she dived in, peeling the edge of the cloth away. Another layer, and a third, and then the other edge. The redhead took her time, halting over the last layer, the last shred of protection from the monster within... the symbol of the monster she'd been five years ago. The monster terrified her, but only because she knew it all too well. At the end, however, she plunged. The last bit of linen revealed her old friend, her comfort, her short sword from her time as a dueler in the Arena, and in her life and career before. She let the breath out slowly, eyes wide as she stared at the thing.
It wasn't just the weapon, of course. It came nestled in its scabbard and ready to wear with her sword belt. Jaycy finally, after what seemed like hours, lifted the sword by its belt and secured it around herself, hands visibly shaking and causing her to fumble. Eventually, however, the sword rested at her hip. She turned, testing the feel, and adjusted, and repeated the process until she was relatively satisfied. "Huh," was her only comment at the conclusion of the process. She picked up her bottle of water from the bar, rounded the end, and wandered out, leaving rope and linen behind.