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faderift2018-01-05 06:38 pm
Open log for Wintermarch
Oh yes, this is a rare sight. Carver Hawke, in the library. Reading. Well, attempting to anyway. The rather tall man is almost dwarfed by the stack of books around him; clearly he's been here for awhile, judging by the stacks and the empty plate next to him. His brow's creased in a perpetual frown as he pages through the book in front of him. Occasionally, he'll jot down something in a little piece of parchment next to him. But often he'll just cross it out later. Whatever he's trying to discern, it's not going well.
After awhile, he shoves the book away from him, blowing out a frustrated breath. Calloused hands run over his face, scrubbing at it. "I'm not cut out for this," he mutters.
Now this is much more his style. Despite the cold weather, Carver's still outside, practicing his sword form. He whet his blade plenty on the undead that swarmed them in the Grand Necropolis, but that doesn't mean he gets to slack off. And really, it's more something to just keep his mind occupied and feel somewhat productive. For now, he's practicing on one of the dummies set up... somewhere. Someone probably propped up a few somewhere, right? Right.
Of course, a real partner that can react and swing back would be ideal. But Carver's never been much of one to ask for a sparring partner; too used to doing it on his own and all. Still, he won't say no if someone offers. If he knows you, he'll wave in greeting. If not, he'll either likely ignore you or just nod. Or if you're REALLY lucky and he likes you, you might just get a smile.
Or just don't let him know you're there and ogle him from a distance. He's getting warm from the movements, so he's ditched the coat. Now he's just rocking a threadbare shirt and pants, so.
Because fuck people, honestly. Griffons don't care about politics or image or whatever. They just want food and head scratches. And after the Grand Necropolis debacle, Carver's happy to spend time up there with the beasts, giving them bits of food and learning about them. They're used to him enough now that they're not quite as rambunctious and screechy when he comes up, though that might have more to do with the fact that he always comes with food.
Carver's also wisened up; most of the shiny things on him are hidden or just entirely absent. Still, it doesn't stop one from trying to pick at a button on his shirt. Carver gently whaps its beak. "Don't you try it. Beth will give me that look and chide me, and I can't sew for shit." A protesting squawk. "Look, I'll bring you something big and shiny to play with next time. Knowing our luck, you'd swallow this thing and choke on it."
He gets perturbed look.
"I'm right and you know it."
You know the drill
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For a few moments, Kaisa stares peacefully up at Carver, the most innocent look she can muster on her face. This can only last for so long, however, and as soon as he gets off her, a grin breaks across her face. And stays there, as she accepts his hand and tugs herself to a standing position.
"You sure about that?" Kaisa asks casually, as she reaches up to brush off snow and whatever debris had gotten into her hair from the ground. "Because a moment ago, you didn't seem to mind the idea of a second round."
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Oh, that grin... that's probably not a good thing for him. At all. But Carver's not an awkward teenager anymore. So he cocks his head to the side. "Wouldn't mind a good spar. Or wrestling match, if that's your speed." She'd be a good partner for it, at the very least. "But like you said, not really the place for it." Or the weather, honestly...
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Carver manages to turn the topic, and Kaisa looks even more interested in the idea of an actual spar than any innuendos about other kinds of wrestling.
"We need to get an inside arena, is what we need. Training in this weather can be dangerous. Sure, you get warm, but then you get too warm, work up a sweat, and then you're in the middle of winter with damp clothing." It's something that anyone who's learned to fight in the cold has learned--or anyone who's had to live long in the cold, really. There is definitely such a thing as being too warm.
"I wonder if anybody would mind if we turned one of those dormitories into a training area? It's big enough. I could ask Ser Coupe, she's in charge of forces. That sounds like her wheelhouse, right?" It's probably a good thing that Kaisa is so easy to distract, especially when it comes to something that she's very invested in. Fighting is very important, possibly the most important.
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Thank the Maker she latches onto the new subject. It's safer ground, and a topic he's far more ready to address and discuss.
"Right, then you get sick. I've seen it happen." Neighbors who fell ill from working out in the cold for too long. He's come close once or twice, saved by his father and later Bethany or Marian. But others without family with magic weren't so lucky. "Maybe. Don't know a thing about Circles, but wouldn't the mages have had some kind of room to, I don't know, practice magic in? One that would have a fair amount of space?" Surely something like that existed in the Gallows that they could also use, if it wasn't already being used for something else.
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It makes sense to Kaisa, but then, mages don't make much sense in general. Isn't that part of the whole being a mage thing? Managing to do things that go against the natural order of things?
"I...guess I'll talk to Ser Coupe about it at some point. She might know. Or know someone who'd know. I suppose it'd have to go through her in any case, with the whole...fighting thing." Forces, fighting, same thing. "If they don't already have it set up--that'd be fun, wouldn't it? Getting to put together a training ring inside?" She looks remarkably excited about the idea, for what it is.