“Tuned in?”
Alexandra heard Casimir speak as she pressed against the earbud in her right ear. He didn’t speak through the earpiece, though. It was attuned to a frequency that his implant captured, a melody of sorts that he insisted they practice sparring to, in order to become more ‘in sync’ in combat in general. He could feed whatever frequency he wanted to her earbud to change it up.
“Yes,” she said once she was fairly certain of it. The ship still thrummed around them in movement to their next location, but she caught the rhythm. She’d probably catch it better buzzed on some Nova Juice, but that was a luxury that wouldn’t help while piloting, so she resisted that urge.
“Cool, cool, cool,” Casimir lifted his beam saber, as did she. They were just training blades, so there was no real threat of true harm, just as the gun she had in its holster had rather soft bullets, given the speed at which they moved. “I’ll open to make sure.”
It was a few seconds, as he seemed to fall into the rhythm, something Casimir did almost effortlessly. His moves were obvious – but they were supposed to be, the melody meant to help feed the information to her so she knew how he moved, and knew how to move with him. And so, with his slash, she side-stepped, and the dance of feints and clashes began, with the melody setting the pace for the both of them, in theory, a melody their foes would never hear, allowing them to coordinate wordlessly in the dullahans.
In theory.
Just as in theory, neither would break from it – but Alexandra always did, although it became a more intentional prying she didn’t think Casimir had caught onto yet. A more intentional building of his trust that she would always break in a moving way.
Just as he always caught it.
The roundhouse kick was blocked with his own leg lifting, and pushing against hers to open her. She knew it still hurt him, but like always, Casimir took it like a champ. Just as she didn’t fall open. Alexandra quickly brought her leg back and sunk into stance, weapons prepared for a strike that never came.
Because he never struck after he caught her, just laughed and grinned. He shook his head, “You’re never gonna get me, Dyer,” he teased, all play, “I can see when you break form.”
When she did get him, Alexandra wondered if she’d see a flare of temper, but of course, that thought didn’t surface in her return laughter.
It was a challenge, of course. Alexandra grinned right back, “One day,” soon. When she opted to adjust the strength of a blow, rather than the movement of it. That would wait, of course, she wasn’t prepared to see if it would work just yet. She was, indeed, still feeling out Casimir, and growing familiar with his patterns.
It did, admittedly, help in the Dullahans. Both of them used bipedal models, though Casimir’s model was far more ‘human’ than hers, and moved like it once he was hooked up to the neural connectors in his own.
“I’m done for now,” she said, not because she was tired. The thrumming of the ship was quieting, the momentum fading. Others grew used to it so as not to notice, but she still did. She hadn’t been in the Den, as she referred to it, for too long. She was still an outsider, but even if she wasn’t…she didn’t think she’d be getting used to anything again for a while.
“Fair,” Casimir held out his hands, “I’d be tired of getting one-upped, too,” he took the training weapons from her as she chuckled again. “You eaten yet?” As he walked away from the rack, The Baron got up from the ground, all black fur and wagging tail, to go to Casimir’s side now that he knew his master was done training. Of course, he got a scratch on the head for it.
“Yeah, breakfast,” she said, “if we can call this breakfast.”
Casimir laughed, “We should be stopping somewhere soon, we can restock the good stuff. Hopefully,” he walked towards the exit of the training room and she followed, “I forget how fucking early you wake up. I’m starved.”
As they exited, another member of the Den paused just in the hallway, causing them to pause. She laughed it off quickly, “I was just lookin’ for you two,” she said, “Cali’s calling your names, and that other rookie. Do you know where Noah is?”
“Nope,” Alexandra answered, which was true. She didn’t know his patterns yet to be sure of where he was.
“Might be around the Dulls, I know he likes to check on his.” Casimir offered, “Is it a job? Do we have a job?” The eager tone caused Baron to bark, in equal eager anticipation – or perhaps he thought ‘job’ sounded like ‘walk’ somehow, from the excitement he began to show.
The merc’s face fell, “You didn’t hear?” she sounded serious. Somber. Alexandra’s eyes narrowed. Casimir’s metaphorical tail stopped wagging.
“No? What? What’s happened, Zay?”
“It’s…it’s better if Cali tells you,” she mocked a sniff, something Casimir didn’t seem to notice was mock, with the way he moved right to her and took hold of her shoulder.
“Zay, who’s dead? What’s happened?”
Her composure broke. She laughed and grabbed Casimir’s hand with one of hers, “I’m bullshitting you, Cas. Of course it’s a job. Come on, man,” laughter echoed in her tone as she squeezed his hand and pushed him away, “Dunno what it’s about but it’s probably boring with two rookies.”
No time to change out of training attire, then. Not that Alexandra cared, although she had noticed how formal Cali usually was. It rather made Alexandra wish she was somehow less presentable than a tanktop and sweats, although Casimir likely didn't even notice his own lack of presentability given the familiarity he felt with everyone.
“Rookie?” Alexandra canted her head.
Zay’s expression sharpened. “Yeah. Rookie,” she snapped right back, whatever warmth she’d shown for Casimir gone. “You’re still new here, so don’t go getting a big head just because you did some pithy things elsewhere, Dyer.”
‘Pithy. Right.’
Alexandra kept that ‘fuck you’ grin on her lips, “Oh shit, I didn’t realize I was in front of someone else who also single-handedly fucked up a raider army,” she said, “Did you go under a different callsign back then? Can I get your autograph? I know of—”
“Fuck off, Dyer,” she scoffed and started to walk, “You can’t coast on Hyperborea forever, you know.”
The grin faded but didn’t falter as Zay headed to find her next mark, and Casimir punched her arm. She turned it back to him, and it lost most of its edges.
“You are still a rookie here, mate,” he reminded as they walked, “until you figure out how we all work together.”
“But we don’t,” she pointed out. “I’ve never had a mission with everyone.” That was…far more normal among the Ancilia.
“It doesn’t happen much,” he admitted, “not that we can’t! But, ya know, the jobs we pick up don’t usually require the numbers. Which means everyone here knows how to do some cool shit on their own,” he said, “so don’t forget it!”
Alexandra rolled her eyes, but she was still grinning, “I won’t,” she promised, “although I’m not sure how cool making a Dull twerk is, Cassi.”
“That is the coolest thing, thank you very much,” Cas lifted his nose to the air in mock offense that she’d dare suggest otherwise. “Ulysses is by far the best dancer of all the Dulls.”
Alexandra’s lip twitched in a desperate attempt not to smile wider, or laugh outright. “Uh huh.” And of course, that broke Casimir, which broke her.
“I could probably teach Clarent to dance.”
“Please, do not, if I find you’ve messed with my Dullahan I will end you.”
“Fine, fine,” he held his hands up, “I won’t.”
Not that he would. It was all easy jokes as they reached Cali’s office, and Casimir knocked on the door for entrance, singing out, “Cali~, it’s your favorite~,” which was likely debatable. Alexandra would remain silent, of course. She wasn’t the favorite, after all.
Alexandra heard Casimir speak as she pressed against the earbud in her right ear. He didn’t speak through the earpiece, though. It was attuned to a frequency that his implant captured, a melody of sorts that he insisted they practice sparring to, in order to become more ‘in sync’ in combat in general. He could feed whatever frequency he wanted to her earbud to change it up.
“Yes,” she said once she was fairly certain of it. The ship still thrummed around them in movement to their next location, but she caught the rhythm. She’d probably catch it better buzzed on some Nova Juice, but that was a luxury that wouldn’t help while piloting, so she resisted that urge.
“Cool, cool, cool,” Casimir lifted his beam saber, as did she. They were just training blades, so there was no real threat of true harm, just as the gun she had in its holster had rather soft bullets, given the speed at which they moved. “I’ll open to make sure.”
It was a few seconds, as he seemed to fall into the rhythm, something Casimir did almost effortlessly. His moves were obvious – but they were supposed to be, the melody meant to help feed the information to her so she knew how he moved, and knew how to move with him. And so, with his slash, she side-stepped, and the dance of feints and clashes began, with the melody setting the pace for the both of them, in theory, a melody their foes would never hear, allowing them to coordinate wordlessly in the dullahans.
In theory.
Just as in theory, neither would break from it – but Alexandra always did, although it became a more intentional prying she didn’t think Casimir had caught onto yet. A more intentional building of his trust that she would always break in a moving way.
Just as he always caught it.
The roundhouse kick was blocked with his own leg lifting, and pushing against hers to open her. She knew it still hurt him, but like always, Casimir took it like a champ. Just as she didn’t fall open. Alexandra quickly brought her leg back and sunk into stance, weapons prepared for a strike that never came.
Because he never struck after he caught her, just laughed and grinned. He shook his head, “You’re never gonna get me, Dyer,” he teased, all play, “I can see when you break form.”
When she did get him, Alexandra wondered if she’d see a flare of temper, but of course, that thought didn’t surface in her return laughter.
It was a challenge, of course. Alexandra grinned right back, “One day,” soon. When she opted to adjust the strength of a blow, rather than the movement of it. That would wait, of course, she wasn’t prepared to see if it would work just yet. She was, indeed, still feeling out Casimir, and growing familiar with his patterns.
It did, admittedly, help in the Dullahans. Both of them used bipedal models, though Casimir’s model was far more ‘human’ than hers, and moved like it once he was hooked up to the neural connectors in his own.
“I’m done for now,” she said, not because she was tired. The thrumming of the ship was quieting, the momentum fading. Others grew used to it so as not to notice, but she still did. She hadn’t been in the Den, as she referred to it, for too long. She was still an outsider, but even if she wasn’t…she didn’t think she’d be getting used to anything again for a while.
“Fair,” Casimir held out his hands, “I’d be tired of getting one-upped, too,” he took the training weapons from her as she chuckled again. “You eaten yet?” As he walked away from the rack, The Baron got up from the ground, all black fur and wagging tail, to go to Casimir’s side now that he knew his master was done training. Of course, he got a scratch on the head for it.
“Yeah, breakfast,” she said, “if we can call this breakfast.”
Casimir laughed, “We should be stopping somewhere soon, we can restock the good stuff. Hopefully,” he walked towards the exit of the training room and she followed, “I forget how fucking early you wake up. I’m starved.”
As they exited, another member of the Den paused just in the hallway, causing them to pause. She laughed it off quickly, “I was just lookin’ for you two,” she said, “Cali’s calling your names, and that other rookie. Do you know where Noah is?”
“Nope,” Alexandra answered, which was true. She didn’t know his patterns yet to be sure of where he was.
“Might be around the Dulls, I know he likes to check on his.” Casimir offered, “Is it a job? Do we have a job?” The eager tone caused Baron to bark, in equal eager anticipation – or perhaps he thought ‘job’ sounded like ‘walk’ somehow, from the excitement he began to show.
The merc’s face fell, “You didn’t hear?” she sounded serious. Somber. Alexandra’s eyes narrowed. Casimir’s metaphorical tail stopped wagging.
“No? What? What’s happened, Zay?”
“It’s…it’s better if Cali tells you,” she mocked a sniff, something Casimir didn’t seem to notice was mock, with the way he moved right to her and took hold of her shoulder.
“Zay, who’s dead? What’s happened?”
Her composure broke. She laughed and grabbed Casimir’s hand with one of hers, “I’m bullshitting you, Cas. Of course it’s a job. Come on, man,” laughter echoed in her tone as she squeezed his hand and pushed him away, “Dunno what it’s about but it’s probably boring with two rookies.”
No time to change out of training attire, then. Not that Alexandra cared, although she had noticed how formal Cali usually was. It rather made Alexandra wish she was somehow less presentable than a tanktop and sweats, although Casimir likely didn't even notice his own lack of presentability given the familiarity he felt with everyone.
“Rookie?” Alexandra canted her head.
Zay’s expression sharpened. “Yeah. Rookie,” she snapped right back, whatever warmth she’d shown for Casimir gone. “You’re still new here, so don’t go getting a big head just because you did some pithy things elsewhere, Dyer.”
‘Pithy. Right.’
Alexandra kept that ‘fuck you’ grin on her lips, “Oh shit, I didn’t realize I was in front of someone else who also single-handedly fucked up a raider army,” she said, “Did you go under a different callsign back then? Can I get your autograph? I know of—”
“Fuck off, Dyer,” she scoffed and started to walk, “You can’t coast on Hyperborea forever, you know.”
The grin faded but didn’t falter as Zay headed to find her next mark, and Casimir punched her arm. She turned it back to him, and it lost most of its edges.
“You are still a rookie here, mate,” he reminded as they walked, “until you figure out how we all work together.”
“But we don’t,” she pointed out. “I’ve never had a mission with everyone.” That was…far more normal among the Ancilia.
“It doesn’t happen much,” he admitted, “not that we can’t! But, ya know, the jobs we pick up don’t usually require the numbers. Which means everyone here knows how to do some cool shit on their own,” he said, “so don’t forget it!”
Alexandra rolled her eyes, but she was still grinning, “I won’t,” she promised, “although I’m not sure how cool making a Dull twerk is, Cassi.”
“That is the coolest thing, thank you very much,” Cas lifted his nose to the air in mock offense that she’d dare suggest otherwise. “Ulysses is by far the best dancer of all the Dulls.”
Alexandra’s lip twitched in a desperate attempt not to smile wider, or laugh outright. “Uh huh.” And of course, that broke Casimir, which broke her.
“I could probably teach Clarent to dance.”
“Please, do not, if I find you’ve messed with my Dullahan I will end you.”
“Fine, fine,” he held his hands up, “I won’t.”
Not that he would. It was all easy jokes as they reached Cali’s office, and Casimir knocked on the door for entrance, singing out, “Cali~, it’s your favorite~,” which was likely debatable. Alexandra would remain silent, of course. She wasn’t the favorite, after all.
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