[closed] hayaoki wa sanmon no toku

[ceruleo]

CHARACTERS: Lance (ceruleo) and Hayame (kisha)
DATE: early days of Hanabira...???
WARNINGS: none.
SUMMARY: Archery lessons, following this.

[ Lance was never a morning person, and honestly, given the choice he'd sooner be back in bed--on his futon?--than making the trek out to the fields. The hills of the flowerlands have been terraced over centuries to make room for rice paddies, and even now, with the sun a pale gleam on the horizon, people are out working. Lance has swapped his Paladin armour for a more local style of light cotton jacket, and his skin raises with goosebumps in the early morning chill.

He tracks Hayame's magitek device to find her location; the field she requested to meet him in is wide and open, just dry grass. It's dark out; all he can see is the shape of a horse in the distance, though the tracker indicates she must be nearby. With a shrug, Lance concludes he must be early and figures she'll find him eventually. ]

Comments

[kisha]

[A horse that takes interest in the slight silhouette of a man on the horizon, if the motion is any indication, moving to a leisurely trot his way.

Except the closer that horse gets... the more strange the shape becomes, shifting, growing odd until it becomes undeniable that there are arms involved, one holding two six foot tall bows, harnesses with quivers, deer hides belted across... a human waist, connecting human female to equine. A woman, not a horse.

At least- half of one.

Hayame herself is somewhat surprised by who she finds, though it barely shows on her face, trotting up to him until they are some feet apart, where she stops to observe him. Was it that man she had met on Leramzen, returned to the ranks? Surely not-]

So you are who Keith has sent me.

[Peculiar.]

[ceruleo]

[ The horse comes towards him, a patter of hoofbeats in the grass; he turns to watch it, blinking as the shape resolves into—into—

Lance shrieks. ]

You're Hayame?! You're a centaur!

[ The briefest pause while he seems to regain his composure, then: ]

Holy crow, this is incredible!

[ Not. ]

[kisha]

[He shrieks, and she almost flinches at the sudden sound, but flinching is a weakness she is in no hurry to show in front of someone she has agreed to teach, even if she feels a flash of potential regret for that agreement swelling up already.

She sticks to a slight wince and deepening frown even as she looks him over. Lanky, but fit enough. Maybe capable to pull back the weight of a bow as large as she taught.]

Jinba is what I am.

[And she would be a wealthy one, if she had coin for every time someone called her a "centaur", or tried to tell her centaurs were drunkards, or Greeks, or whatever they believed.]

[ceruleo]

Okay, okay, got it. Jinba, sorry Hayame.

[ He's still!! So excited!! Unlike others, Lance has no preconceived notions about centaurs, except maybe that, well, they're good at archery. ]

It's nice to meet you. Wow. [ A beat, and he colours. ] Did I say 'wow' out loud? I mean. You're really impressive. Um.

[ She's so muscular, too, and nearly twice his height--he struggles to contain himself, before finally taking a breath and settling. ]

Are those the bows we'll be using?

[ That bow is as long as he is....cripes. ]

[kisha]

[He is... quite free with her name, but as long as he's at least putting the proper words to her race, she supposes she ought to be more forgiving.

And probably should make an attempt at being less intimidating, half-glowering down at him from topping seven feet tall, hard muscle and cold edged as only a consummate warrior could be. (And he was saying "wow" out loud.)

She does him the service, or so she thinks of it, of letting him babble without replying, waiting until he gets to an actual question to hold out the less worn looking of the two bows she has brought, offering it to him.]

Yes. Have you ever held one?

[ceruleo]

[ He shakes this head. ]

Never had the opportunity. Bows are pretty rare where I'm from.

[ He takes it as she offers it, gripping to make sure he doesn't drop it. It's enormous, and heavy. No wonder she's got biceps that size... ]

Man, this thing is huge.

[kisha]

[A place where bows are rare... she's traveled to a few worlds now, and still, it seems so difficult to imagine. So difficult to accept how outdated her life had been compared to so many others. It merely makes her frown as she turns to begin untying one of the two quivers she has attached to the harness worn across equine chest and shoulders.]

How heavy is your rifle?

[Some of her students hadn't even been able to draw a bow properly when they started... what the hell kind of plush lives were these people living?]

[ceruleo]

Uh, let me show you—

[ Transferring the bow to one hand--he has to gently tilt it so as to support it with his body--he pulls his bayard from inside his cotton jacket. It's about the size of a badminton paddle, shaped and held like a brass knuckles. He extends his arm away from her so as not to cause any alarm, and in a flash of light it extends into its true from. It's a big gun, made obvious by the fact that once the transformation is over, his arm visibly readjusts for the added weight. Still, he doesn't struggle to hold it once that adjustment is made; it's not like Hunk's cannon, which would absolutely leave a dent in the ground if dropped. His finger is quite firmly off the trigger, barrel pointed at the ground. ]

I hold it with both hands when I'm shooting, but that's mostly to aim better, and for the kickback. It's a blaster, it doesn't need to be filled with ammo, so all in all I'd say it's pretty light.

[ No idea if those words mean much to her, but he figures showing her the thing will give her a better idea of his starting point. He doesn't even know if they have the same units of measurement. ]

You can hold it if you want...?

[kisha]

[There had been a time when such a sight would have sent her either attacking or running, too foreign and too impossible for her to even view as anything but proof of having gone insane.

But she's mostly sure now that she hasn't lost her mind, and she's seen some of Keith's tools... but she still isn't comfortable with it, and though she keeps most of that off her human half, raised by humans and taught harshly how to discipline that part of her... her equine half was more obvious, muscles stiffening and tail rising slightly in alarm as she watches the gun take shape.

She doesn't even want to touch it... but she'd asked the question and walked herself into that trap, and so she has no choices but to hold out a hand.]

Give it here, then.

[ceruleo]

[ Lance (to the surprise of anyone who might know him, probably) has experience with farm animals, and so he takes note of the shift in her posture. He isn't sure how to interpret it in context, though, especially given the regimented control of her top half and uncertainty regarding whether or not the cues of jinba were even the same as those of horses.

Given the little he knows of her, he decides it must be caution. After all, she did say she had no experience with guns.

With practiced ease, he flips the grip, presenting the handle to her. A split second of debate, then: ]

Uh, you probably already know this, but finger off the trigger. And keep it pointed at the ground.

[ Gun safety is definitely something he hadn't been too responsible about at first...but he'd already had gun training before he'd gotten his bayard, and Hayame has none. ]

[kisha]

I know that.

[Sort of. She's seen a few rifles in her own world, the Master had one, said to have come from all the way across the sea, from the land where the Jesuits came from. But that heavy matchlock rifle is almost irreconcilable with this one.

She takes it with the care of someone handling a viper, fingers white-knuckled on the grip as if it might writhe away and bite if she does not hold it tightly, lifting it up and down a few times, judging its weight before she all too quickly offers it back to him.]

It is light. [or maybe that's just to her, maybe it was heavy for a human] You may need to improve your arms before getting far with the bow, but we will begin nonetheless. I trust this will not be a problem?

[Bayard returned, she turns all business and begins walking to the treeline in the distance, trusting he will fall in line.]

[ceruleo]

[ He can't help but feel a little nervous watching her manipulate his bayard—but Keith trusted her, which meant she wasn't that bad. His trust is rewarded when she returns it, and seconds later it's gone and tucked away again.

It's a beat before he scrambles to catch up with her; with her longer legs, he has to lengthen his stride to match her pace. The bow is heavy against his shoulder. ]

Nope, not a problem! 'Sun's out, guns out', ya know? I got this.

[ She could crush his biceps single-handed, but you know. That's neither here nor there. ]

[kisha]

["Sun's out, guns out"...

That means literally nothing to her, and she's tired of attempting to understand such ridiculous sounding words some of the Hathaway members slung around, so she just ignores it. Rather obviously.

She also doesn't seem to be slowing her pace to assist him- though at least she isn't speeding up on purpose either. After a long, dead pause, however, she looks back over her shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly at his demeanor.]

I trust your companion has also explained to you what to expect from my lessons?

[As they walk, a few makeshift targets set up on the edge of the treeline slowly come into view.]

[ceruleo]

[ Lance can't even begin to know where to meet her halfway--all he knows about ancient Japanese culture is from bad Samurai films and things like that.

He does notice his comment is ignored, which makes him self-conscious. Keith did say she was quick to anger... ]

He said you wouldn't go easy on me, but that's about it.

[ He peers ahead at the targets, then considers her again. ] How long have you been shooting, Hayame?

[kisha]

[Well at least he had imparted perhaps the most important thing to know...]

Since I was old enough to hold a bow.

[Age she avoids, because she has found it does little to assist humans of other worlds in judging her life. Jinba matured faster than humans for a certain time courtesy their peculiar mixed biology, before they slowed and took to a more human like maturation until death after a life longer than a horse but shorter than a man’s. Beneath her stern demeanor and cold presentation that made her look older than she is... she’s barely out of her teens by human counting.]

Your shooting experience?

[ceruleo]

[ ALL ABOARD THE HEADCANON TRAIN. ]

Couple years now, I guess? Started training at the Garrison. [ She can feel free to assume 'military' from a name like that, and he doesn't bother to fill in the blanks. The details don't matter. ] But training ramped up when I joined Voltron--that's where I met Keith, I don't know if he told you about it.

[ He's come to understand that Keith is a little cagey about it, though he's willing to hope. ]

[kisha]

He told me only that you were a teammate of his, and a natural sharpshooter.

[That he was a soldier Hayame had assumed from her analysis of Keith’s skills, though she’d had her share of doubting what kind considering how impatient she’d found him. But she hasn’t asked anything deeper in the lack of being supplied much beyond fighting and a mixed heritage. She expected people not to pry into her own business, and in return she stayed out of theirs.]

Are you? A “natural”?

[The way she says it... it doesn’t sound like the best thing to be, somehow.]

[ceruleo]

[ She got scary???? More scary??????????

Brb piddling himself... ]

Uh. Define 'natural'.

[ If he were less concerned by her stormy demeanour, he'd be touched that Keith called him a 'natural'; as-is, he doesn't think on it. Unlike the former Red Paladin, Lance has never found it easy to learn anything. ]

It took me a while to learn...like I said, it's been a few years now, and uh. I practice a lot.

[ Read: 'we're in battle a lot'. ]

[kisha]

[Apparently, that was the right answer, if the slight easing in Hayame's critical expression was any indication.

Because her definition of a "natural" was someone who had some degree of talent that allowed them to succeed without effort, to reap rewards without struggle... and while part of her was envious of such people... most of her simply resented them. Didn't respect them for the ease at which they glided through something that seemed more fitting to fight for.]

Good. The bow requires diligence, practice, and mental focus.

[When they reach the treeline she begins to untie the second quiver from her harness, offering it by nearly shoving it in his face.]

I had your companion make his own bow, but you are fortunate and there are decent craftsmen in this place.

[ceruleo]

[ Assuming Lance has any of those qualities--well, that's not entirely true. Lance is perfectly capable of being dedicated and industrious. He just uses that capacity so seldom...

Luckily for Hayame's patience, he joined Hathaway explicitly to improve his skills. ]

Make his...? [ He frowns. ] You taught Keith archery, too?

[ Was he good at it... ]

[kisha]

[That earns him a sidewards glance, though she keeps her actual thoughts to herself. Were they not "teammates"? Did they not speak to each other?

(Not like she knew- she was not so fortunate as to have met anyone from her world in this place, nor someone she could call a "teammate".)]

... He is a student of mine, in that sense. Yes?

[ceruleo]

[ Wow. It's Complicated, okay?! ]

Huh. He didn't tell me that.

[ Lance wonders why, but since he can't call Keith and ask, he'll have to shelf it. He shrugs. They're within range of the targets, anyway. ]

What can you do? All right, teach, where do we start?

[kisha]

[... Huh.

Hayame's brow raises slightly, but she makes no comment. He knows now. Instead, she takes her own bow and tests the stringing before she smoothly takes an arrow from the quiver she'd handed him and notches it, drawing it back with a ripple of muscle and releasing it after a single breath-

For the arrow to embed in the distant target.]

Form.

[She turns her gaze back on him, holding the pose she had taken to fire, demonstrating the way her hand gripped the bow, how straight and rigid her arm extended.

Your turn, Lance.]

[ceruleo]

[ She makes it look so effortless...swallowing, Lance takes up his bow.

He doesn't have a weak upper body, even though his gun is certainly less heavy. A lifetime of swimming has given him broad, strong shoulders, but he's never really manipulated a bow before.

He grips it just like she does, though of course without any of her grace or ease; he's just copying. He tries to remember how this feels in his arms. ]

Like that?

[kisha]

Mm...

[Appraising, she releases her example of a grip, going so far as to even walk about him in a circle and examine him from each angle.]

And what are you thinking of, in this exact moment?

[ceruleo]

[ He figures the answer should be something like 'nothing', or 'only the target'.

But right now? ]

Uh, not making you mad?

[ nailed it ]

[kisha]

["Only the target" would have been quite acceptable.

But that answer...

Hayame's bow lashes out to rap Lance smartly on the inner arm.]

Lock your elbow.

[Was apparently the wrong one.]

[ceruleo]

Ow!

[ Grumbling, Lance does as told. Muttering: ]

Fine, guess I'll lie next time...

[ Elbow's locked, though. What next? ]

[kisha]

[The "ow" earns a cold glance from Hayame that says all too clearly that she thinks that shouldn't have elicited such a response.]

Do not lie, just fix it.

[Despite the fact that it would likely be easier to actually touch and readjust his stance, Hayame refuses to actually do so, correcting again with the thin wood of her bow poking into his lower back.]

Release the tension in your hips. You will need to change your stance from here if your enemy moves.

[ceruleo]

[ He doesn't make another sound when she nudges him, though he does tense up in anticipation of being struck. Normally a request like that would've easily prompted a response like 'girl, you can relieve the "tension in my hips" anytime', Lance isn't feeling up to pickup lines when he's being berated instructed this early in the morning. ]

So the upper body doesn't move. Makes sense.

[ He does as told, but he's having a hard time letting go of his frustration. He's focusing on her and her presence instead of on himself, getting caught up in the flex of his arms and shoulders. Lance has really never been one for mindfulness. ]

[kisha]

You must be as still as a stone, for the split second that you fire.

[She's starting to pick up on that lack of focus- so perhaps he and Keith were comrades after all, with that in common. Though Keith had been more fidgety.]

Here.

[She demonstrates notching an arrow, drawing it back, and releasing it once more, the arrow thudding into the target with quivering force.]

Try to fire.

[She didn't actually expect him to hit the target, she just wants to watch him try it.]

[ceruleo]

[ This much, he knows. Once he's given the order to fire, it's easy to just to that familiar place in his mind; abruptly his focus shifts to the target, and while the stance and weapon are foreign, the intent isn't.

He notches his arrow and draws. Breathes in, steady—

And the arrow flies to go bury itself some feet in front of the target. ]

Aww man, I thought I had that!

[ Those noodle arms won't help him, it seems. ]

[kisha]

[Well, his focus is much better when actually given a task to shoot, at least. Not that she actually praises the effort or gives a kind word, instead pointing at his scrawny (to her) arms.]

Aim without power will do little for you with the weapons of this world. Work on that before anything else.

[With the draw strength on the longbows, just archery practice itself would eventually do something about that, but...]

Is there no meditation in you and your companion's culture?

[Keith has a name, Hayame...]

[ceruleo]

[ Lance makes a sour face, lowering the bow as he listens to Hayame talk. Thanks for the reminder that he's a limp noodle, Miss Muscle. ]

Yeah, I guess? Haven't really had time to do it much, though I guess we tried it as a team that one time. And stop calling him my companion, jeez!

[kisha]

[What was wrong with "companion"?]

Your "teammate", then.

[ceruleo]

[ It makes them sound like--bleugh. ]

Better. Do you meditate, Hayame?

[kisha]

["Better", he says- Tch.]

When called for.

Your teammate could benefit from it, and so could you, so perhaps now that you are here it can actually be managed.

[Without even waiting for his answer, she trots away, moving to scoop up the arrow from the ground, and then slam it into the target center before she returns.

There, motivation.]

[ceruleo]

[ WHY IS SHE SO FRIGHTENING. ]

Yep. I will, uh. Do my best.

[ He lifts the bow again. ]

Practice?

[kisha]

[It's a cultivated art.]

Practice.

[She gestures to the target, already ready to correct his form again. With those arms she doubts he'll be able to hit it on the first day, but she doesn't suggest moving closer to the target to allow him some sense of accomplishment to work off- she finds failure and shame the easier motivators.

... she'd praise him once he hits it, though.

However long that took.]