Oerba Yun Fang ~ Pact Of Ruin (teardownthesky) wrote in missions, @ 2012-08-07 08:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! thread, oerba yun fang, valmafra lenande |
A dream of life again...
Who: Oerba Yun Fang & Valmafra Lenande
What: Training, Drinking and Talking. (But not in that order.)
Where: Outside Balamb Garden
When: Tuesday evening.
Rating: PG (Language)
Status: Complete.
There were probably plans. Plans that may have very well been interrupted by the hunter changing her schedule. However, Fang had made a point of this meeting specifically. Moving it intentionally to fall on Tuesday because then she could keep that ace up her sleeve while approaching the other woman and with Valmafra, one needed all the tricks they could manage. Though, on more than one occasion Fang felt as though she had been able to aptly unhinge the normally stoic and collected seeming woman. ‘Unhinging’ Valmafra however, was not what one would expect from a ‘standard’ person. It was more a subtleness of catching her off guard or provoking her into attempting to appease a repressed intellectual curiosity. The clues were present in the way the other woman wrote, spoke and postured herself with reservation yet assuredness. Once you got a feel for how to handle a person it was just a matter of playing to their strengths, or in some instance, weaknesses, that would allow for further development of a relationship. One of Fang’s weaknesses was a constant feeling of being out of place. Many of the students were significantly younger than her, or had cushy enough lives that they didn’t understand her sort of raising in what felt like the wilds at some times. Then there was how Oerba had been a communal village, which no one in the school could seem to relate to aside from Vanille, who had, of course, been busy with her own course of studies. Though, the fact that Fang would, at times, ask what seemed like obvious or pointless questions probably provoked people into frustration. It was unfortunate that she’d run into people who wouldn’t stop to bother looking into what the true goal of the question was. Most of Fang’s questions were not for the actual verbal information provided but for the emotional and reaction information that would be given from the person answering. Sure, the factual information was nice, but there were plenty of ways to come by that. Due to this, and more, Fang often felt like she related more to the instructors than the students even if she tried getting along with them. Another unfortunate aspect fell in how many of them seemed to have issues with her since Fang had no problem with any other cadet. If growing up in Oerba had taught her anything, it was that there was no point in holding grudges over small things, that everyone made mistakes and that most things in life weren’t worth getting upset over. If no one was dying, everyone would be alright in the end. Of course, it didn’t hurt to check in and see how people were doing though, just to make sure no one blew up and started lashing out at anyone. If that was allowed to happen, you could never tell what damages may be done next. Regardless of all of this, tonight wasn’t about this. It wasn’t about Fang. It wasn’t about hiding and lying and cheating or even training. Tonight, was about another curiosity that had sprung to life recently. With that notion, Fang had gathered things into a small pack, slung it cross body and ventured off to the meeting location for their regular training session. As always, her lance was easily holstered and carried at her back, however, instead of the stern and steady focus of the last couple weeks Fang would appear more detached and even minorly distracted upon arriving tonight. A brief nod would be given to the other woman in greeting before the pack would be pulled over Fang’s head and placed gingerly on the ground. Shifting, a hand reached back silently, unlatching the lance from its holster before Fang bent and then sat on the ground at her feet. Hand moved, digging into the pack and pulling out a set of old metal camp mugs. A glance up was ventured at the other woman before a faint smirk began to tug at the corners of Fang’s lips. “Ya might wanna ‘ave a seat.” After setting down the old cups carefully on the ground, one lightly pushed towards where Valmafra stood and one set next to Fang’s bent knees, a bottle of tropical fruit wine was retrieved from the pack and twisted so that it could be easily viewed in the fading light before Fang began to work at uncorking the bottle. Isolation, displacement. These were not especially foreign concepts to Valmafra. She knew little of community or family as Fang did, took what she could out of work and duty, but the feeling of being held apart from others was an old, familiar weight. She grew to accept it a valuable asset of course, over time. With it she could maintain objectivity and a keen eye for observation. On the battlefield, she excelled. Wasn’t it an acceptable exchange then? To realize a worthy goal and to protect others, should not one be prepared to sacrifice? Friendship could be managed without allowing for undue weakness, love was better suited for those with the understanding and intuition to tend it properly, to trust it as a strength and not as a danger. One couldn't long for foreign concepts such as family if they had never known it. Even so, it was a truth acknowledged that she was not entirely alone in this life. There were others she could admire and care for at a distance, those she could converse with and assist when able. Civilian life, free life, felt wrong at all angles and every day was a struggle in redefining herself to fit it, but it was manageable enough. If only everyone wasn't so damned persistent that she ought to propel herself into it headlong. Their efforts, kind but misguided, had apparently come to a bothersome apex of late and Valmafra found herself struggling to ward off many concerns at once. They weighed her down, these worrisome feelings; even tea with the Captain seemed a distant reprieve. Whatever personal matters she managed to dismiss or ignore however, and her capacity to do so was no small feat, there were equal professional matters to balance them in weight. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have an entire class to run, and more so besides. For this particular evening, Valmafra was simply determined to think only on the work ahead. An unfortunate mistake, it seemed, as she watched with growing skepticism while Fang took out the cups and bottle. "This is not a part of training, Guardian." Said with more force than usual. Her humor was little for entertaining whatever Fang had in mind. Valmafra had a firm set of rules about drinking, let alone with anyone she did not consider a peer, and was quick to cast a downward stare of disapproval. Must everything of late be so much of a trial? "Inappropriate," she sighed to herself. “No shit.” Swearing actually wasn’t a common thing for Fang, at least nothing more significant than the occasional ‘hell’, which hardly seemed a swear at all in most circles she knew. Though, in the past few days she’d taken up a particularly foul mouth. Maybe it was the stress of not getting enough sleep for the past two weeks, maybe it was the constant pressure of having a secret that could explode and propel herself and Vanille into danger at any moment, hell, maybe it was just the fact that a fucking dragon had attacked the Garden in the middle of a friggin Blitz match and now she was sore and more worried about just how safe a place this was for Vanille to be. “Tonight, this is part of life training.” Fingers attempted to twist the cap, trying to loosen it up a bit before one hand dug back into the bag and rummaged around for a few moments before coming back, victorious with a corkscrew. Eyes remained lowered and Fang began to pour out some of the contents of the bottle into the steel cups, filling each half way before pushing the cork partly back into the bottle and carefully nestling it nearby in a manner to assure it would stay upright. “Mm.” Was the brief and passive response to Lenande’s commentary about how ‘inappropriate’ this was. Clearly, Fang had no fucks to give regarding how appropriate this course of behavior was right now. Shifting the cup she’d poured for herself was retrieved and held while her free hand moved, placing her lance within easy grasping distance in case their quiet night was suddenly disturbed by some form of beast. “Suggest ya drink that.” Finally Fang’s eyes raised to take a glance at Lenande before a nod was given to the cup. “Really ‘ate t’see Oerbain wine goin’ t’waste.” The cursing was met with a slight frown from Valmafra, who wondered if it was even worthwhile to argue on it. It wasn't as if she didn't have anything to drink about, honestly, as the incident with Reis and the information surrounding it was a profoundly troubling matter in more ways than she could possibly care for. But it was not her preferred mechanism of coping with difficulties and she saw no reason to take up such an effort here. "Nonsense," she said to what Fang professed as life training. Valmafra knelt down to take the cup (weighing the possible outcomes of dumping it and starting a lecture) and took a considerate sniff. Exotic indeed, it was certainly a drink she was unfamiliar with. Another reason to be mindful. Even if it was that a knight of her former calibre knew how to hold a drink as much as dispatch an enemy, her nature was inclined to be skeptical. "Then you ought not have bothered to pour it," Valmafra countered, looking displeased by being stuck into another atypical situation. "What do you hope to accomplish, other than the obvious need to shirk business?" She held the drink out in front of her in an offput manner and waited for a suitable reply. “Not for me.” The words were curt. Honestly, Fang was in a good mind to rattle off a number of things she’d managed to observe about the slightly older woman at this point but decided that perhaps refraining from commentary for this moment might be a bigger benefit than not. The cost-benefit ratio didn’t seem worth it in this instance. Eyes followed curiously as Lenande took the cup and examined it. In Oerba they were taught a great deal about respect, seeing how the other woman reacted would help teach Fang just what Lenande knew about respect as well. The initial aspect of the retort earned a low and somewhat bitter laugh, perhaps bordering on something that might show a few years worth of wisdom that would not be commonly present. Fang had a certain skill of withholding information, even when she wasn’t intentionally trying to. Eyebrows raised, an incredulous look spreading across Fang’s face with a brief laugh lined with disbelief. The cup would be lowered, to rest leisurely on one bent knee, a finger hooked through the handle of it. “I wish t’accomplish ‘avin’ a drink with one of a ‘andful of people around ‘ere that seems to not ‘ave their head so far shoved up their own ass that they think they’re seein’ ‘eaven when the sun shines.” An inhale of air was the only pause given. “I wish t’see if my theory about ya is right and I could keep at this for the rest of the night but I think we both know ‘ow that’d go.” With a huff of air, the tension that had started to work its way into her posture released and the cup was raised in a form of toast. “ ‘sides, said I’d bring ya back somethin’ an’ with the sudden evac from Oerba, it’s still in the mail, but this is ‘ere.” Waiting a moment, Fang gave Lenade a time to soak it all in, not that she particularly felt like Lenande needed a moment, but it was a courtesy she was used to giving. “So,” A nod was given at the ground in front of her. “ya gonna sit an’ ‘ave a go at it?” Fang's current rough attitude rattled Valmafra very little. She couldn't be bothered with the ill tempers of students on nearly any day, and were it not that she considered Fang her responsibility and somewhat of an ally, Valmafra might've simply discarded the entire affair at that moment. What need had she to entertain this nonsense further, if at all? It was obviously another misguided attempt to get her to socialize outside of her usual parameters, she determined. The corner of her mouth quirked downward slightly. "A theory? There have been many before." The words were softly spoken but cold and lacking in interest. She took a seat beside Fang, looking ill at ease and guarded as ever. Even so, Valmafra did not regard herself as temperamental enough to throw a childish tantrum about this. She would endure the embarrassment enough until Fang said what she needed to say, perhaps, and then make a firm move to be done with it. The thought that Fang was attempting to assess her character in some capacity was enough to earn no small amount of silent chagrin. Valmafra had offered little of her personal history and hardly more of her private philosophies. Whatever conclusion the young woman was inclined toward was more than likely another reason to simply drink the offered wine, and she did so with great apprehension. It was a small sip. The flavor was sweet and did not earn even the smallest wince. "And all of them worthless as the next." “Sure there ‘ave.” Fang’s own tone was nonchalant and bordering on dismissive of whatever past attempts may have been made for people’s bids at the instructors opinions or morals. The definite lack of concern for the entire matter remained, regardless of the fact that Lenande had sat down. “Can’t imagine ya a woman people just like leavin’ alone.” Finally, the mug was lifted, a sip taken from her own cup. Fang generally was not a fan of sweet things, but Oerbain fruit wine was an exception as she tended towards her foods salty and her booze fruity. Maybe she really was a product of her environment, but this was one of the last things she was going to complain about. The truth of the matter, if Fang was entirely honest, was that she had been observing every teacher, staff and student she’d come in contact with from day one. If it were in classes or on the GCN, there were little hints about a person left everywhere. In fact, if you paid enough attention you’d even pick up on the details that were specifically left out as well. Those, in many cases, were just as important, if not more so, than the ones that were included. That was how she had gotten Lightning to open up about her relations to Snow for one thing. Ask a couple good questions and you’d learn more than you might ever want to know. “Neva’ answered my question about the White SeeD.” Compared to before, her tone was almost casual now, though still held a strange hint of distance. The topic of Fang’s opinion about Lenande’s character on the back burner for now. Especially, considering the fact that Fang had a suspicion that she was curious to see if it’d come to fruition. "That is rather evident," Valmafra said into her cup. She made some attempt to seem unbothered by the drink in her hand, which was at least favorable to her palate if not her purpose—something that was now unfortunately scattered. On the topic of the White SeeD, something left her throat that was similar to a dismissive grunt. She had been nearly barraged that day with tasks, keeping up with Wulf (and another, which earned a troubled sip at the thought) and so was not able to keep up with the discussion as promptly. Apparently that was a mistake. "I know as much as any other of their function, their secrecy," Valmafra offered, waving a hand dismissively as if giving some sort of class lecture. "There is no privilege of information given to instructors on the matter, if you are so curious to know. Be at ease, I have withheld nothing." A questioning look followed, prompting Fang to continue. Silence permeated as thoughts stewed for the time being, another leisurely sip of the wine was taken. Just how much or how little information was supposed to be disclosed was questionable, however, no one knew how they were getting their information and frankly, Fang had her doubts that they had surveillance on each one of the people contacted at all times. It would be a waste of their time and efforts, especially with all the missing sorceresses and supposed leads they were claiming to have. Just in case though, Fang raised the cup, making to ‘take another sip’ of the liquid and spoke into the cup, so that no one would be able to read her lips. “They sent the letters.” The words were low in volume and would hold a tinny echo as a sip of the wine was taken to follow through with the potential cover up. The cup was lowered down to rest again on her knee and her gaze followed it, eyes turned down in thoughtful consideration of the night they were all summoned to the fire caves. “Least, that’s the claim.” Eyes narrowed down at the cup before her gaze rose again, out over the scenery, as if she was looking for something specific out there. “Whole lot of us,” One hand moved up, grasping the cup and removing it from her leg before Fang leaned forward, digging into the bag again to retrieve a small pad of paper and a pen. “been wonderin ‘ow ya do the formula for a fira spell. Was tellin’ a classmate I think it’s gotta look somethin’ like this.” Taking the notepad into her lap, Fang carefully wrote out a list of names for those who she knew had been in attendance that evening before turning the pad of paper so Lenande could take a look over it. The pen would be kept in one hand, which began to tap the writing instrument against her own leg passively while her other hand reached for the mug again. It would be lifted and another sip taken while Fang watched Lenande look over the new information provided, examining for any particularly curious reactions. Valmafra assessed the list without a change in expression. Fang's tactics at maintaining secrecy stirred some small desire to raise an eyebrow but she withheld it. The names were easy enough to memorize and she conceded to herself that such information might prove useful, should she need to go through the data at a later time. For the moment however, there was nothing to warrant an emotional response. She knew already of Wulf's involvement, he admitted as much. How the rest of the names correlated with his would simply be conjecture. Valmafra shrugged and looked away. "Such is why I intend not to advance you in lessons." She drank again, feeling no especial effect from the alcohol and vaguely resenting it. Too many troublesome events happening at once, and all of them leading to what end? Edea, Shin-Ra, and now the White SeeDs were moving to action as well. It was an ominous sign for the future. “Though you remind me how we waste our time here.” A hand reached out offering to take the notepad, a low, amused and short laugh slipping out as the cup was put down on the ground again. "Thanks for ya vote of confidence." With the notepad back, Fang's eyes would glance over it for a moment before ripping out the sheet of paper and crumpling it in a fist. The pad of paper would be slipped back in her bag and leaning back, her free hand would fall on her lance, gripping it as the ball of paper was popped up in the air and set aflame with a fire spell. The charred remnants would float leisurely in the air, almost like their destruction didn't have a care in the world. If only life were that easy. "Well, suppose it's too much to ask ya with help figurin’ out the strengths of each piece then, yea?" That same faint level of amusement remained. If Lenande could help her figure out her... Teammates strengths and weaknesses, she could best prepare for whatever future was to befall them. Honestly, with all the talking they seemed to be doing with each other, Fang didn't have a lot of hope for the group heading down the right path, at least, not unless something changed. Quite frankly, she wasn't about to stick her neck and Vanille's out on hopes that they'd all learn to get along and sing kupo-by-ya magically overnight. The mug was retrieved and brought to her lips, Lenande's new jab earned a half amused shake of head and huff of air. "Depends on 'ow ya define wastin'. Think we're 'avin' a pretty nice conversation myself." Challenge Accepted, Lenande. Challenge. Accepted. Now that particular request earned a critical frown in response. What were they intending to do with such a group, exactly? "As you require," she conceded with some hesitation, the slight authoritative tone she used in class briefly coloring her words. If this was in any fashion intended to put her at social ease, it certainly was not successful. She pushed her cup aside that Fang might simply let her be. "I shall make note of your opinion," Valmafra replied coolly. She took a moment to brush the hair out of her face, as her typically pulled back hairstyle was beginning to rebel. "Is that all you intend to remark upon this evening? As I have seen to accommodate you with my own personal time." "Mm." Was all the initial confirmation that would be given, Fang's mood not shifting from the semi-relaxed amusement when Lenande's teacher started showing. The White SeeDs claimed to need assistance, from what she could gather, most of the group thought this meant they needed extra muscle. That, in Fang's opinion, only half made sense if they were thinking of muscle in the literal term. If they were thinking in terms of sheer firepower, it may be more promising. Though, in the same instance, were they then being sent into a suicide mission because the White SeeDs couldn't be bothered to waste their own troops? Edea's territory was going to be all too well guarded and while Fang had some ideas how they could crack a place open, just from what she knew of Lightning, Sazh, Snow, Vanille and herself... There clearly was puzzle pieces she was missing. That's where the other people came into play she guessed but the question still remained of how. A low 'heh' slipped out and Fang lifted the cup, downing the rest of its contents before her hand reached for the bottle again, lifting it up, she paused a sideways look cast over to Lenande. "Did ya want more?" This time she asked and there was a reason for that, just like there had been a reason why she didn't ask the first time. Fang waited for a response before any action was taken, pouring some more in her own glass regardless of the other woman's request. The cup was lifted, a gulp taken from it easily as sipping was starting to feel a bit... boring at best and she rolled the shoulder that had been injured, it still was a bit stiff. "Not at all." A slight smirk pulled at one corner of her mouth. "Think ya were gonna lend me a book, yea?" Really, that wasn't all, but Fang wasn't about to get into that right now. "No," was the quick reply in regards to the wine. Valmafra saw no way that further drink could possibly service her mood, even with the moderately appealing taste. It was nothing similar to Alexandrian wines of course, but those were difficult to come by and the less she thought on such trivial details the less troubled she inevitably was. Because there was no way to remedy that particular situation. In regards to the book, Valmafra gave her attention to the typical equipment bag she carried with her on these appointments, the one that held her materia and other field supplies. After a moment of digging, she procured a small leather-bound tome and held it out for Fang to take. Valmafra prided herself in collecting rare books, some of them acquired by...peculiar means. The one she had picked for Fang was something of a travel log, written supposedly by an adventurer of a kingdom long destroyed. His role in the popular tales of history was subject to much speculation and debate it was known, but she couldn't help but find a fondness for it. "This should suffice for your curiosity, I believe." A nod of appreciation was given as the tome was taken from Lenande, being handled with a degree of care that most might not think Fang possible of. "Thanks." Gingerly the book was tucked away and the wine bottle recorked as if it were just another day and nothing particularly special or potentially problematic had just occurred. Shifting the wine remaining in her mug was downed before the mugs were retrieved and placed carefully by the pack, which was pushed away from the space which they had come to sit in. "Now, before we get to trainin'," Fang turned to look back at Lenande once more, seemingly assured that everything was taken care of for the moment. "what's with the attitude lately?" Sure, Fang had been mixed up in enough stuff of her own to bulldoze most peoples lives, but thankfully, being a Cadet and a newly appointed Guardian, Fang was not most people. Add in the fact that she tended to lurk on the network, keeping up with what was going on in boring classes or in bits of down time, she'd picked up Lenande being... Shorter than normal it would seem both on the network and in person. Admittedly, Fang didn't really expect a response to this question, but, if you didn't ask, you'd never know. Valmafra stood and regarded her own belongings as well, preparing finally to do something of value with their time. She was relieved, almost, by the time Fang posed the unfortunate question. Certainly, she would use the opportunity ahead of them to set something on fire herself. "There is nothing to warrant your concern, Guardian," Valmafra said firmly, the authoritative tone again in her voice and stronger this time. She resisted the urge to sigh. Valmafra was the sort of person who was horrible at turning a blind eye—as a knight this served her well but as an instructor it was completely frustrating and at times practically useless. Valmafra adjusted the strap of her equipment bag with a vague degree of annoyance. No, she was certainly not going to bring that particular issue to the attention of anyone else either. Aerith was troubling enough (this seemed ever a constant) and she did not require Fang to bother her over it as well. After the damned festival was over however, she need not think on the matter ever again. Valmafra was (rather desperately) counting on it. "Shall we?" Fang would take a period of silent consideration, making no attempt to hide her curious watching of Lenande. “Think we already went ova’ this once before.” Sounding like a broken record was not on the top of her to do list at this moment however. Shifting her feet underneath her, Fang would slowly stand, pulling her lance up with her in the process. Though, the truth of the matter was, everything about Lenande concerned her. However, speaking that seemed a tactically unsound maneuver and it wasn’t a plan she was about to break in just for the hell of it. From Fang’s perspective, Lenande was a woman who didn’t know how to live. Someone caught in a world they didn’t and perhaps couldn’t understand, to some degree, much like herself. From what little she’d gathered, the instructor’s friends seemed few, her manner so restricted that Fang questioned if she had any support systems at all and admittedly, while Fang did love to run wild and unhindered, there was something that seemed extra out of place with Lenande. A certain rigidity that while it served day to day functions well, made the hunter think that it may not be serving the other as well in the greater scheme of things. In fact, it reminded Fang a bit of Galbadia but clearly, considering Lenande’s profession, there was no hatred of magic there. If there was, it was some level of deep loathing that no one but Lenande herself may be able to save her from. It all related back to passion. That one single question asked weeks before when the hunter could tell something was the matter, a piece of the person missing with Lenande, but couldn’t place what that piece was. In Fang’s world, if you didn’t have something worth dying for, you weren’t living your life right. Grip shifted on the lance shaft and a nod was given over to a space from where they had been sitting, clear of the pack and random items that had been toted along with them that need to be left out. With the small indicator Fang then moved towards the space, a low ‘heh’ slipping out with a shake of her head. “Some day we’ll ‘ave a real talk.” With the statement and making it to the small area Fang readied herself for this evening’s lesson. This night would be like many of the others before it, a series of practice maneuvers and drills that Fang had realized the older woman was so fond of. While it did feel like they dragged on endlessly some nights, tonight, it was a strange relief to be back in such a simple schedule. While this work was to make her a more capable Guardian, it also allowed her mind to venture away from all the stresses of the day. Hell, really the stresses of the past couple weeks at this point. Draw forth the magic from the materia, focus for its desired effects then concentrate on and direct the elemental force as needed. Stop. Start again. Repeat the cycle or if there was nothing happening, keep trying until something happened. Simple, forward, easy in theory, harder in practice. Each one of these nights left Fang mentally exhausted. While taking blows and leaping might drain her physical energy, the magic work with Lenande always seemed to drain her mentally and to some degree emotionally. This only cemented her belief that the strength for magic and the strength for melee came from different places and in reality, for Fang, they did. Due to their temporary detour at the beginning, this session was not as long as the others and secretly Fang was glad for that. With everything that had gone on in such a short time she was beginning to feel quite worn upon. Pulling up a section of her shirt, she used it to wipe sweat from her brow, a half smirk pulling at one corner of her mouth when Lenande had called time for this evening. A few, what felt airy, steps were taken back over to her pack, retrieving the cups and slinging the pack cross body again before holstering the lance. Retrieving the bottle, she’d offer it to Lenande easily, not expecting the other woman to take it, but it was there for the taking if the other so desired. Regardless of Lenande’s decision the slight smirk would remain as Fang turned, facing the Garden as she began to walk back in the dimming light of the sunset. “Happy birthday to me.” |