RP:Something Entirely New
Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc
This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.
Summary: Brand, Khitti, and Brand's third-in-command Dozla head out to the beach to help Khitti get acquainted with her magic again.
Sandy Beach, Cenril
Without her even asking, Brand miraculously decided on his own to start Khitti’s magic training early. There’d been tons of reassurances that things would go alright--she’d be careful, she’d not try to overdo things, etc, etc, etc--and so they planned to have a day out when he finished with a run to Rynvale and was redocked in Cenril’s wharf--he can’t really stop making that money, you know.
When the morning came, Khitti would get dressed--pants and one of Brand’s shirts she’d stolen (again) would be the attire today--and feed the crew and make sure she was ready to go by time Brand had done whatever he needed to let the ship run on autopilot. Long red hair (or black as the illusion would be in place as usual) was pulled back in her typical ponytail with long sidebangs. She was already on the top deck of the ship when Brand would reach it, nervousness swallowed and buried deep. There was a twinge of sickness, but she chalked it up to a small breakfast and the anxiety of the unknown, and quelled it with lavender tea and a bit of a nausea relief mixture from Lennier. What sort of an instructor was Brand? Would he think less of her if she didn’t do well? What if she wasn’t up to his expectations? Would he just leave her if she didn’t prove fruitful with his teachings?
Well, there wasn’t anything to be done with it either way. She either did well or she didn’t and he either stayed with her or he didn’t. Regardless, she needed to learn to properly used her magic before she hurt herself or someone else, and Brand was probably one of the best people to help her. They’d reach the shoreline eventually, finding enough space along the area coated entirely by sand, far from the section with rocks that she liked to draw at. “Okay.” This was an indicator to both Brand and herself that she was ready. “Where do we start?”
Brand looked to his crewmate, who’d ridden alongside the couple on one of the Tikifhlees. “Actually, I was thinkin’ Dozla should be the one to start you off. She’s better explainin’ beginner magicks than I am, y’see, no offense.”
The woman Brand had named dismounted and took a long bow, her black braids whipping about like a pirate flag in the coastal wind. When she righted herself, she flashed a wide, warm smile. “Don’t think we’ve spoken since you came back, m’dear. The cap’n’s a great fighter.” Behind her, Brand tried not to look proud. “But great fighters make crap teachers, d’you know why?” Dozla barely took the time to breathe, let alone allow time for an answer. “Because they didn’t struggle. Your mate here,” she nudged Brand hard on the shoulder and in the same movement strode behind him, so that she stood on the opposite side from where he thought to look for her, “he took to magic like a croc takes to water. Y’don’t struggle that way, y’don’t learn how to -learn-. And if y’don’t learn how to learn, you’re crap at knowin’ how to teach, to -really- teach.” She ducked far enough away to prevent Brand from nudging back, and in another pace she stood at Khitti’s side. “No offense, cap’n.”
“Red, we’ll see where you’re at, and get where you need to be in a flash.” She meant that literally. She was withdrawing her arm, drawing it back, telegraphing a right hook. The instant she was sure Khitti had seen it, the fist was flying, sparks collecting at her knuckles.
Khitti had seconds--literal seconds--to process that Dozla was going to punch her in the face. Little did she know that this right hook was a long time coming after all the ones she’d given Brand. But, she wasn’t just going to take the hit and call it quits. What counters electricity? Well, earth magic for starters, but that wasn’t an option she had right now. The urge to block Dozla’s attack was there and obvious. Would ice work? Maybe. There wasn’t any time though to work the somatic components needed before she really could use her magic like most magics, that being without any components at all and she was really unsure that she’d be able to conjure it in time.
Khitti did block it, however, as her left arm raised up and crossed itself in front of her face, the blow taken by her forearm. Electricity crackled down her appendage and through her body, the redhead grimacing somewhat. It gave her some much needed extra seconds to try to will her ice into being. It did eventually, on her right hand, now balled into a fist beneath the shadow-tainted sheets of frozen water, albeit thinly. With the left arm still blocking, the right is thrown towards Dozla’s ribcage in an attempt to get the woman away from her.
The more she actually took part in practices and actual fights, the more Khitti’s muscle memory kicked in. The movements between the blocking and the punching were fluid enough, though it was clear she was rusty. Hand-to-hand combat was never something Khitti was that skilled in though, but she’d known enough to get by.
The redhead moved slow enough that Dozla could dodge back and away, creating a pace’s distance between them once more. The sheet of ice earned half a smile. “Lesson One: Don’t fight fair. Y’get caught up in honor, you die to the first one y’meet who doesn’t. It’s important you learn that one ‘fore the rest.”
Brand nodded, well outside the area of combat. “In a real fight,” he called, “everything you learned in trainin’ is out the window. You can train your reflexes and broaden your experiences, and that’s about it.”
“Again, with the ice.” Dozla leapt forward, her hands this time gripping two lightning scythes. It didn’t look like a forearm could block this.
Khitti looked between the two as they both spoke, then nodded in understanding. “So, it’s mostly pointless besides learning to pace myself and evading attacks. Got it.” As Dozla leapt at her, the ice on Khitti’s forearm extended further, shaping itself into a large, rectangular shield that was nearly as tall as her body. What had been thin sheets of ice were now made thicker, the ice creeping across the shield’s form, growing stronger still as Brand’s third in command make her attack. Khitti waited until just the right moment, planted her feet as well as one can in the sand, and shoved the shield at Dozla while she ducked behind it, hiding from the lightning scythes.
The shield wouldn’t hold for long though, as it took a tremendous amount of energy to keep herself focused on it. When the shield would fail, her shadowflames would be summoned up, the woman seemingly ready for whatever else Dozla might throw at her.
Brand considered Khitti’s words as the two women traded blows back and forth. “Well, ‘mostly pointless’ is takin’ it a bit far. It’s more that you’re just practicin’ habits, and you want to practice habits that won’t get you killed.” Of course, there was always the possibility of impossible odds -- odds like they’d faced on the Cenril bridge. But it was just a fact of any fighter’s life that odds might be the thing to kill them. Nothing to be done about that.
“I want to see you take the offense,” said Dozla after a few rounds. “Ain’t nobody ever killed their attacker with only blocks, child.” She posed in a half-twist, exposing her left side to Khitti and holding lightning scythes in either outstretched arm, waiting.
“I was being sarcastic, damn it,” Khitti called over to Brand, soon after wrinkling her nose at Dozla. “That hardly seems fair when I have no idea what I’m doing.” She grumbled a bit, the frustration stirring up that sickness in her stomach again. “I certainly can bash someone’s head in with a shield if I needed too, you know. I just… didn’t need to.” A deep breath is drawn in and exhaled. What was that other thing Brand said she could do? Shadowstepping? Hm. It sounded like something she could definitely use for both offense and evasion. If only she’d done further homework on the shadows aspect of her magic rather than just the ice and fire. Maybe, just maybe, she was trying to impress Brand with the elemental stuff.
Khitti didn’t go for the obvious opening Dozla left for her as she took a running start towards the other woman. Instead, purple fireballs were sent towards Dozla’s feet, a much needed distraction for Khitti to shadowstep her way from in front of Dozla to behind her just before an impending collision. The flames gave way to a scythe made of ice, the sweeping attack aimed at Dozla’s head.
Brand was impressed. Really. She’d barely had any exposure at all to her own magic since the amnesia, and yet she was taking to it quite well. It was as if the memory was just under the surface, faintly distorted but threatening to break through in full at any moment. An image came to mind of her diving into deep waters, chasing after mermaids. Did she still remember how to swim, he wondered?
Dozla danced and Dozla dodged. She was perhaps more familiar with Khitti’s abilities than Khitti herself, and that conferred an advantage. One step, two step, twist, lunge, kick. A sweat began to build upon her skin, but she was nearly as fast as Khitti and almost seemed to know where the redhead would pop up next as her series of shadowsteps continued. At length she held up a hand: stop. “I don’t want you to think you’ve failed ‘cause you couldn’t hit me.” Dozla patted her face dry with the tail of her shirt. “You weren’t meant to jus’ yet, but you will. Right now I want you to listen to your body, m’dear, and tell me what you feel. Start with your feet and work your way up, slowly. D’you feel at balance? Which muscles are you holdin’ tensed, Red, and where are you relaxed? Do you feel the way your magic and your blood surge through each part of you?”
Khitti probably did know how to swim--it likely worked the same way as riding a bike, if those things actually existed in this world--but there was no way to test it unless they actually got into the water. … Brand, don’t push her into the ocean, please.
The redhead did her best to focus on Dozla, but between their extreme magic exercising and the mid-day heat, she was certainly not feeling well. “Well, I mean, I figured we’d not be landing punches, so to speak, because I don’t think Brand would really appreciate it if his third-in-command and his girlfriend just beat each other up.” Or maybe he would. Brand -does- like himself some warrior women. Khitti tried to slow her heart rate, breathing slow, deep breaths as Dozla spoke. She didn’t feel relaxed anywhere at all; every part of her was tense and her stomach even moreso. “All I feel is... “ She paused, brows furrowed as she attempted to study each body part carefully in her head, “I don’t feel balanced at all. My feet and my legs are--I feel dizzy… and my stomach--” It didn’t matter that her feet and legs felt like they were on fire--but in a good way!--from all that exercise or that she did feel the magic coursing through her now that she was more accustomed to it. What did matter was her stomach was incredibly upset now and that’s all she could think of as she went pale… and promptly threw up. After her breakfast and a bit of after-breakfast dessert was spewed onto the beach, Khitti looked like she might faint, her thin form wobbling back and forth a bit to try to stay upright.
Simultaneously, Dozla and Brand came rushing toward her, panicked as if she’d thrown up blood rather than breakfast. Brand put strong hands against Khitti’s back, propping her up, steadying her dizzy movements. Dozla, meanwhile, took the risk that Khitti might vomit again right on top of her. She sidestepped the emesis and held Khitti close, blotting a handkerchief across Khitti’s mouth, inspecting her clothes for any mess, fussing with her hands across Khitti’s skin to check her pulse and temperature. “Well, she was bound to get sick sometime,” said Brand, and over Khitti’s shoulder the two sailors exchanged a glance.This was Khitti’s first sickness in some time well over a year, unless one counted being dead. One of those vampire perks.
“She’s got no fever,” replied Dozla, relief creeping across her features. “Pupils normal, pulse as y’might expect. She’s flush and her skin’s a tad clammy, I suppose.” Dozla paused for thought, dark eyes searching Khitti’s face for answers. At length, she appeared to formulate a theory. “Sweetheart,” she said slowly, squeezing one of Khitti’s hands in both of hers, “how long have you been feeling sick? D’you have any other symptoms? Anything at all?”
Khitti leaned on Brand long enough for Dozla to make her assessment and then take her hand comfortingly. The way the other woman said ‘sweetheart’ and squeezed her hand make her uncomfortable though, like she knew something Khitti didn’t, and she soon withdrew the appendage from Dozla’s and sidestepped away from her, “Just a headache. I-I went to Lennier for medicine for the headache and the nausea when it didn’t go away after I ate. And, there’s the dizziness too, I guess.” Cue stubborn Khitti. “I’m fine. Just nervous is all. Worried about whether or not I’m ever gonna be like how I was before with my magic--whatever that even means.” Okay, there’s the mood swings too, but she’s not gonna mention that. Khitti put on that warm smile of hers--even though this time it’s a totally fake, so much so that the captain and his third-in-command would probably realize this--and just shrugged, “I’ll be fine. Brand’s right, honestly. It’s a wonder I wasn’t sick after they hauled me off the beach. Can we please just get back to training?” Please don’t ask anymore questions. Please, please, please.
As Khitti spoke, Dozla nodded along with wide and shining eyes. She seemed almost to have expected the answer. She hid a growing smirk behind her fist until the moment Khitti asked to return to training, at which point the smirk broke free into peals of joyous laughter and, inexplicably, the fist thrust hard into Brand’s shoulder. “You are in for one heckuva ride, y’know that, cap’n?”
Brand stared back, bemused. “I’m sure I would be, if I knew what you were talkin’ about.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, actually, but Dozla was almost certainly about to tell him regardless.
Sure enough, the woman flashed her smile all the more fully, gazing at Khitti with a fresh sort of warmth far beyond her usual. “Khitti, m’dear, I should’ve known it from the instant I saw you. The women in my family always get the sheen to their skin first, moisture n’ glow, like the constant hug of wet sea air.” Brand’s haze of confusion was no clearer, and so Dozla pivoted to him. “Well, the glow’s not quite the same, y’know, her bein’ as pale as she is, but… cap’n, you wanted me to beat up on a pregnant woman? Or did you really not know?”
Khitti just stared at Dozla. Those dark green eyes just remained fixed on the woman as if maybe she didn’t process exactly what she said, but sure enough it definitely did click in her head. “Dozla, that’s a horrible thing to say. Literally, the worst kind of prank ever.” Where she’d been pale from the sickness just a few minutes ago, her face was now bright crimson, from a mix of both anger and embarrassment. “I -can’t- have children. Brand even said so.” Only then did she finally tear her gaze away from Dozla and eyed Brand himself, “Right? You said so yourself. In the woods. That day you and Onyx were helping with my archery. ‘We can’t have kids.’ ” As she spoke, the anger faded and panic set into her tone. If she -was- pregnant, why did he say that? Did he outright just lie about it? Or was this entirely unexpected (moreso than pregnancy usually is)? If he did lie… then what the hell was that argument with Dominic in Frostmaw really about…?
If Khitti’s panic was a tremor, Brand’s was a cataclysmic earthquake, razing every thought it touched. She was pregnant? But the curse…! And what about the contraceptive tea he’d been making every night for her? Was this somehow Facilier’s doing? Could her pregnancy be undone? Could the curse? Was the curse as real as Gevurah’s ritual had suggested? How would he explain? He could scarcely ask himself one question before his mind tripped onto the next, feebly attempting to solve fifteen problems at once and failing at every one of them. He’d gained the appearance of a dead fish, ashen and gaping, wheezing nonsense syllables of desperation.
“We -can’t-!” Brand confirmed finally, his voice cracking. He’d meant it in a sense other than the literal, of course -- or she wouldn’t have needed the tea. But yes, he’d been perilously serious that they couldn’t, or rather shouldn’t. And he was perilously serious now as he stepped forward, drawing Khitti tightly into his arms. “It shouldn’t be possible. It’s im-frakkin’-possible.” He shed a tear and wasn’t sure quite what emotion had summoned it. Dozla kept her distance, silent and watchful.
Khitti didn’t see that tear Brand had shed as he pulled her into an embrace, but his voice cracking certainly didn’t go unnoticed. He sounded more upset than she was. Why? The ‘why’ was pushed away to the back of her mind as she tried to find plausible explanations for her sickness. Maybe it was food poisoning? But, no. If that was the case, others would’ve been sick. It had to have just been stress. It had to have been… right? And then it hit her: it’d been some time since she last bled. This time last month she’d nearly finished with it.
There was no hug in return, nothing to comfort Brand, if he did indeed need comforting. The thoughts ‘he’s more upset than I am’ and ‘why’ kept racing through her mind, despite her not wanting it to. Khitti would just stand there limply in his arms until finally, she slowly pushed her way out of his hold, took a step back, and just eyed the sand between their feet. “I think she’s right,” was said finally, quietly, sadly. Something loomed beneath the surface of the fog in her mind and it worried her, the concern plainly written on her face. What were they going to do? Can you even properly raise a child on a ship like that? Is it safe? Was she even ready for this? What was Brand thinking right now? Did -he- want this? Was he going to leave her if he didn’t want a child? Those last few questions actually brought tears to her eyes. It was the panic talking, of course, but she just couldn’t seem to quell any of her fears.
Brand realized he’d not panicked over the more mundane questions yet -- assuming the kid came to term -- and rectified that immediately. How the frak was someone like him ever going to be a dad? How much of his lifestyle would he have to give up? How much of the ‘domestic whatevers’ would encroach? Would he have to (shudder) change diapers? Seven frakkin’ hells, he’d survived a thousand battles and didn’t know how to survive a gorram baby. “Seven frakkin’ hells.” It felt better to say it out loud.
Brand was a man possessed by his own worries until the sight of Khitti’s diverted him. She was pulling away from him, tearful, almost… heartbroken. Like a clap of thunder came the realization: they’d been here before. He already knew how this ended if he wasn’t here for her now. A different sort of panic rose, tight in his throat, pushing him to action. He pleaded her back into his arms. “Hey. Hey, no, c’mere. It’s all right. We’re gonna figure this out, you n’ me.” She didn’t need to know what was at stake right this second. He’d figure out a solution, or he’d figure out how to explain to her the problem. And maybe -- maybe there wasn’t a problem? Maybe Vakmathras was as much of a hoax as all the other gods always seemed to be? Maybe no curse would come to pass, since Khitti’s death and resurrection hadn’t been an intended part of the cure?
“You’re damn right,” said Dozla, intruding on their intimate scene. “Just as every other parent through the ages. Congratulations.” It seemed such a simple thing to Dozla -- they’d get over whatever fears they had in time. She knew nothing of the deal with Vakmathras, of course, but quite a lot about motherhood, and it was with a shiver of giddiness that she approached the couple again. “No more sparring today. We’ll give you something a little less active ‘til you’re over the sickness. It won’t last long, m’dear, and you should have a few easier months after.” Unless she was unlucky, Dozla added silently. But there was no sense piling more worry onto the poor dear.
Khitti shifted her line of sight back up to Brand as he begged her to come back and tried to soothe her worries away. They’d figure it out together? She watched him a moment, as if briefly skeptical, then finally returned his hug, her head coming to rest against him. Dozla pulled Khitti’s attention away from the Catalian and Khitti couldn’t help but grin a little at the woman, “Thanks.” Pause. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she added, the smile she’d been wearing fading somewhat. Khitti didn’t know about Dozla’s past with motherhood, of course, but if she did find out, she’d certainly want her there for the whole process. The redhead gave Brand another squeeze before she peered up at the captain, “Can we go home?” The worries she had weren’t entirely gone, but maybe they could sort through both of their concerns later. Well, most of them.
Dozla nodded mildly. “I’m sure I can’t blame you. But it ain’t any sort of joking matter, child. I know where the lines are drawn.” She peered thoughtfully at the couple for a time, then added, “We may as well go back to the ship, yes. I know a nausea remedy that just might work where Lennier’s has failed you…”
♪♫Where did we go? What did we do? I think we made something entirely new. And it wasn't quite me. And it wasn't quite you. I think it was someone entirely new.♫♪ -- Something Entirely New, Steven Universe.