InsaneJournal

Since the gym was likely to be filled with people that Hawke simply wasn’t ready to talk to or deal with, she’d set aside some private time in one of the sparring rooms typically used for organized sports classes. Even with her work now as a traveler liaison, things aboard the ship were rather slow, and Hawke was desperate for some action. If Kirkwall had been this quiet for this long she’d probably have gone and made some trouble to get into.

This was probably similar enough.

She showed up a bit early, in that same sports bra tank top and leggings that the ship’s replicators kept assuring her was appropriate for this kind of thing, and took a few moments to clear her mind. Hawke hadn’t tossed magic around since that day with Lucifer, and she wanted to make sure she was up for the task of facing Lomea’s powers.

The sparring room was a good choice. Lomea had observed some of the training in there once or twice, out of curiousity and because the view was nice. But today it was just the two of them. Hopefully they wouldn't wreck the place.

The computer had insisted on some kind of work out outfit, and Lomea had altered the design someone. The sports bra was elegant, white with gold trim and little dangly bits that made it extra fancy. The leggings match, though without the dangling bits.

She stepped into the sparring room like a queen, and energy briefly crackled around her. There were weights, and some kind of exercise balls, so she brought them over, thinking they'd be useful. "The computer told me robes were unacceptable. I wonder if it just likes watching us.”

"It probably does. I'm used to robes myself, some variation of armored ones, but the computer can't seem to turn my sketches into anything at all. You're going to have to show me how to make this outfit look as stylish as yours, though." Maybe not with the golden dangly bits, but Lomea definitely looked more color coordinated. "Perhaps something red."

She watched Lomea gathering the weights, one eye just barely twitching as she recalled pulling a bunch around with one of her spells. "How heavy are those? I only ask because a huge one almost went right for my head last time."

Lomea chuckled. She'd at least been able to make some extra robes, but mostly decided to just walk around in fancy night gowns. Close enough, she thought. "Red is certainly your color."

She pointed. "1 kilogram. 5. 10. 15. 25. 50." Fifty was patently ridiculous, but she floated it up like it weighed nothing, before dropping it.

"I think the big one was 35..." She trailed off, watching Lomea float the 50 around like it was nothing. The 35 one hadn't been that heavy to lift when she'd put it away, and she was almost certain that weight had nothing to do with her actual spell work. But it still would have crushed her beautiful face.

Once the weight was back on the ground, Marian decided it was her own turn to show off. She had never been taught a spell to lift things using magic, and instead waved a hand through the air, casting a spell that sent the weight flying across the room and into the wall. Luckily, due to the way the whole room was padded, it didn't leave a dent. "That one we like to call 'Fist of the Maker'."

Lomea did something unexpected. She laughed. “Fist of the Maker? Who named that, a child?”

Not that Lomea guttered that. That would be undignified. “Not too bad. But you lack finesse. You lack precisions. Raw power without guidance is useless. But power honed to a fine point…” She reached out, and one of the 1kg weights collapsed in on itself. “Is everything.”

"You know, I'm not sure. The spells were already there in the texts when I learned them. I assume the reasoning is that it hits like the fist of an angry god, who'd be the Maker in this scenario." Hawke said, while knitting her brows together. So much of the magic in Thedas made no sense or seemed so limiting now that she was outside of it.

"I believe the Chantry prefers their mages to telegraph their attacks. That way they know what's coming. We were never trained otherwise, we aren't even given the spells to be precise enough. It's really rather annoying." She wondered how much more control it would take to only push something a little bit away, or if she could hone it to push something smaller an infinite distance. Hawke eyed another weight and pushed her hand forward, trying to imagine a less forceful push. The weight wiggled in place before flying off sideways.

“One thing to learn, then, is to cast your spells without telegraphing them.” Lomea wrinkled her nose and sneered. “That is just idiotic. Unless you are intending to intimidate your opponent, it’s best to strike without warning them first.”

She circled behind Marian. “Can you visualize engulfing the target from three sides, to force it in the direction you wish it to go?”

"I should point out that I usually use a staff with a blade on the end of it, so that becomes part of things. Only we aren't allowed to have them out, here. But... you make several excellent points." Hawke replied, while still eyeing the weights.

She could feel Lomea's energy crackling around her as she circled, a sensation that was intimidating. But something about it, perhaps the vortex she was creating right where Marian stood, or something in the intonation of Lomea's words, made her feel like she was better able to focus. Could she visualize such a thing? "I can bloody well try."

The forces of gravity and telekinesis were supposed to be at her command, and there had to be more. This time, she visualized the force she commanded pressing the weight back towards them. It worked, but in a way that sent the weight flying straight towards her ankle. It smacked against it with a thunk, and Marian snorted. "Well, that's going to bruise."

“Take care, less you do more than bruise yourself.” Lomea trailed two fingers along Marian’s spine as she passed behind her again. Her words were measured, her voice that of a teacher. “Try again. Can you lift it?”

The touch made Marian shiver and put all of her senses on high alert. She wondered briefly if that was Lomea's plan all along, while squinting at the weight that had rolled back to her. "I... am not actually sure. We've no spells for that directly."

“If you’ve nothing for it, then invent something. Look at that piece of metal and make it bend to your will.” It was simple to Lomea. Magic, like the Force, existed to be controlled. If one did not control it, one was controlled by it. Controlling it was preferable.

“You are the master!” She walked towards one of the weights then flicked her hand. It suddenly snapped towards Marian.

A barrier came up like a globe around Marian and the weight bounced off to the side. She didn't even recall casting the spell, but there it was. Controlling her power was of the utmost concern, it always had been. Right at that moment she felt more out of control than she had her entire life, and she steadied herself with a breath. Her magic had protected her, at least she hadn't cast something stupid on instinct.

"Right, just... invent something... that should be easy." After all, where did these spells come from originally? Someone had to have practiced and studied and tinkered and found a way. If she could push things forward or off to the side, she should be able to push them up off the ground, too. What if the Maker's Fist could be a hand that grabbed things instead of punching them? She glared at the weight that had fallen to the floor, and tried to visualize lifting it up into the air. It wobbled in place.

Barriers were good. It meant Marian had protection. But it needed to be more than instinct. Instinct meant one was controlled and control was the utmost importance. She tilted her head, and her voice was like honey. “Good. Try again.”

Positive reinforcement, that was a thing, though the honeyed voice could also carry a threat.

All Marian knew at the moment was that this sort of learning magic was a lot more fun than the way her father had gone at it. She didn't blame him, though. He'd escaped a circle, and their methods of teaching were incredibly rigid after all.

This was tiring work, but Marian nodded her head. Though this hadn't been planned as a teaching session, she'd somehow already accepted Lomea as an instructor. She wanted to please her new friend, and she wanted to excel at new things herself. She reached her hand out just slightly, using it as a tool to help her visualize lifting the weight up. "Come on, you bloody thing..."

It wiggled in place again, and then lifted up a few inches before dropping back to the matt.

It was a start. If Marian was an apprentice, she might have already been kicked out, and that was if she was lucky. But Lomea was pragmatic. Different magic required different techniques. Different people, too. She’d approach Elsa differently than Marian, as an example. But there was one technique that might work to at least force Marian to work harder.

She turned her head and three of the weights suddenly flew towards Marian.

"Oh balls." Marian said, as the weights came at her. The barrier came up again, flickering into place, and she thrust one away from her and into the wall just on principle. For once it didn't go straight forward like the spell always worked, and she realised she'd actually controlled it enough to keep it away from Lomea's head.

Which was progress, at least. She felt quite proud of herself over that. "Can you just imagine if you'd actually had one of those smack me in the head? Perhaps I'd deserve it but I'm sure I'd be getting those awkward 'abusive relationship or bar fight' questions for a week."

"So this is a relationship, now?" Lomea hadn't flinched at the flying weight. That was good. "You've got potential. As we learn the true extent of your magic, we'll be able to push you further, and faster."

It was something unfamiliar to Lomea. But she'd master it too, if for no other reason than to enhance her own skills and knowledge. Turning to face Marian, she held her arms out in the classic 'come at me bro' fashion. "Do not hold back. Use all your force magic you are capable of."

"Well, it's certainly the start of an interesting one if it is,' Hawke quipped. She'd been in more protracted and certainly more stressful battles than this before, but for some reason she was already sweating. Her mind briefly brought up a mental picture of the bottles of lyrium she'd left in her quarters. One of those would have been amazing right now.

She wiped her brow and centered herself, "Alright, but ‘ware the floating around of things, one of these spells is known for it already."

Then, without another word, she cast four spells in succession. First, she sent out a telekinetic burst that normally knocked enemies back and to the ground, similar to a force wave or push. Then she tossed down a ring that shifted the gravity of the room, which supposedly slowed people's movement speeds. After that, a swirl of magic appeared on the floor that started to pull the weights in towards it, which would supposedly pull Lomea in. And finally she cast the spell that she'd originally cast, which would have forced Lomea across the room (only to be slowly pulled back towards the swirl in the room, assuming her spells were at all successful).

When she was done, she wished she had her staff to lean on.

The initial burst washed over Lomea, riding over her like there was some kind of bubble around her. But the force of it was surprising, and she actually, very briefly, staggered on her feet. It pleased her, but she didn't dare show it but Marian was playing with figurative fire.

Lomea started to slide on the floor towards the swirl, and twisted to avoid the last spell. With the slow spell in place, the Force-enhanced movement was only peak human and the push jarred her shoulder. She caught herself as the pull faded and lifted her hand, freezing Marian in place

"You know..." Marian breathed, while trying her very damndest to break out of whatever spell it was Lomea had cast on her, "I'm slightly impressed any of those landed at all. They didn't do anything to Lucifer, and it was quite annoying."

She tried to cast the spell that would dispel any magic currently being used, but couldn't get her hand to make the motion. In normal circumstances, this would have been the time she started inwardly pancing, but this was all friendly competition, right? Surely Lomea would let her go at some point. Preferably before she needed to use the restroom.

She'd have to find out Lucifer's secret. "Now that you've exposed yourself, you will not catch me off guard again."

Marian's arm started to bend backwards, Lomea's eyes flashing red. "Break yourself out."

Surely, Marian would break herself out before something bad happened. If she was lucky. And didn't taunt the Sith.

"I don't know if you've noticed me trying, but consider my having tried this whole time," Marian joked, while still trying to summon some spell to break loose. Perhaps if she hadn't just spent most of her remaining mana pool tossing everything she had at Lomea...

Was that actually the plan all along? Marian squinted at Lomea for a moment, suddenly unsure of the other woman's motivations. She barked out a nervous laugh, "I mean, this is all in good fun, right? You aren't really going to break my arm."

Right?

... Right?

Marian's arm slowly, inexorably continued to bend as she spoke, as though it wasn't in any hurry to actually break. Lomea's eyes narrowed. "Do you doubt my capabilities?"

Really, she could stop. She liked Marian. But Marian had a way of putting her foot in her mouth and Lomea continued to use the Force to bend her arm. "You can stop me. You are the Champion. Use your capabilities, break free, and stop me."

There was nothing she could do. She'd tried every spell she knew. Marian's stomach started to churn with that incredibly uncomfortable feeling that the confident rarely had to feel. That of sheer, cold panic. She tried to summon up her force magic to somehow push Lomea away. She even tried to put up some kind of barrier.

But it was all for naught. Her magic had been completely spent, and Marian could only watch as her arm continued to bend at very unnatural angles. She winced a bit and muttered under her breath, "Oh this is really going to hurt. They always warn you to hold on and brace for the pain but there's really no preparing for moments like these."

There was a cold, oppressive feeling in the air, dark and choking. A sickening crack filled the room, and suddenly Marian was released. If Lomea was distraught or concerned, her face didn’t show it. But there might be a new tension in her voice. “You almost had it. Almost is never good enough.”

The coldness passed. And maybe, just maybe, Lomea looked a little guilty.

As she was released, Marian dropped to her knees. Her vision was swimming, and she was right; There really was no preparing for how much this was going to hurt. Hawke was no stranger to pain. One didn't survive the rigors of Thedas without a few cracked ribs or the occasionally serious wound, but this time she almost thought she'd throw up.

"Right... yes... that's very true. Now - I'm not going to look, because I'm quite sure I don't want to see, but about how many pieces is my arm in right now? Rather relevant at the moment." She asked, a bit more breathless than before. "I'm only asking because I'm not actually sure I can feel it from the elbow down."

“This will probably hurt a little more,” Lomea warned, her eyes having lost their dark glow. Most people would be rather upset at her at this point. She lifted her hand, and a purple glow surrounded Hawke's arm. "It will not heal the fracture, but, ah, the bone is no longer exposed."

Lomea wiped her forehead. Healing wasn't exactly her area of expertise, and she had to draw on her own life force just a little. "Perhaps I pushed you too far."

Marian bit down on her lip as Lomea set the bone, and then wiped some sweat off of her own head. "Well... no longer exposed... that's probably good, right?"

It wasn't really a question that she expected an answer to. She gave herself a minute to regain some equilibrium, then pushed herself to her feet. Hawke thought it was to her credit that when she finally rose, she only wavered slightly. "You might have recalled our... conversation the other day where I mentioned that we Mages tend to have a limit. We've definitely hit mine, so yes. You did. But I won't be caught off guard again. You're not the only one who can observe and reflect."

“Mm.” Lomea circled her again, then reached out a hand to steady her. “When you are ready, then. We will try to break the other one.”

After all, you couldn’t push yourself if you weren’t willing to damage yourself. “And perhaps, you’ll manage to break me.”