Quarry Quarrel

Log Info

• Title: Quarry Quarrel
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Aya
• Place: Mountain Road
• Time: December 23rd, 2022
• Summary: Aya finds Aryia practising her form against a rock wall in a quarry. Two sisters enter. Only one will leave. Just kidding. They catch up. And catch hands.

Mountain Road - Offshoot, Late Morning

Those that traverse this road from the noble districts down to the city proper know that there has been a quarry expansion being dug into the mountain itself. It's past a few twists and turns, out of the way for the most part, as the only sign there was something going on was an 'under construction' sign hammered into the ground in front of the entrance.

It's chilly. At least its not snowing with the overcast sky. But that doesn't stop a number of miners from suddenly coming out of the offshoot, wheeling a plethora of quarried stone out. There's an idle comment in passing about, "Can't keep up with that lass anymore," as they shuffle out, wheels on the barrels squeaking from the weight.

The quarried is seemingly abandoned. Were it not for the occasional deep thud of cracking stone deeper within, a rumbling crumble, and a faint plume of dust trailing out from the offshoot.

Having a residence, of sorts, in the district makes for frequent travel between it and the rest of the city. When one chooses to travel, that is. The deepening winter makes this desire less strong than it would be otherwise for many. Aya is no exception. Today, however, it is not snowing, at the least.

The passing miners, or perhaps more their commentary, catches her notice. The apparent lack of other activity save for the low reverberations further piques her curiosity. A minor detour is not inconvenient: she has no pressing matters at the moment, and the notice shows only 'under construction' not 'keep out.' Thus she shifts her path into the quarry proper.

Perhaps they'd learn that they'd need proper signage.

Passing through the offshoot and the floating dust, hang a left, hook a right, down a slight incline until there's a small opening in the mountains above, one stands above a ridge that goes downwards in a careful slope. Spiraling along the edge of a pit.

Down... down... down...

At the bottom, about fifty feet or so, is a familiar figure in a black tanktop, fists covered in cloth tape as they're held up to her face.

She's squaring off against a solid rock wall, uncaring of the dust that sticks to her form from the sweat laden from practice. A cross strikes out, impacting stone. And instead of bone and flesh shattering, the rock wall crakcs and shatters with a small burst of light. And again. Jab. Cross. Uppercut. Knee.

There's another low rumble, and stones loosen and fall to the wayside as she she steps forward to claim the newly cleared footing.

Recognition. Epiphany. A smile.

The passing comment and the sounds now both have a perfect explanation. Is this what Aya might have expected? No. Is she terribly surprised? Also no.

She forgoes the winding descent and simply reappears at the base of the quarry, far enough behind Aryia's pummeling to avoid falling rocks (and possibly the bulk of the dust), yet near enough for casual conversation. She observes for several moments long, waiting for a natural pause in between her sister's cycle of strikes.

"The mountain is too stubborn for its own good; it should have surrendered to you some time ago, sister."

A steady, forward, unyielding rhythm. From once before the rock would shudder and crack, instead now it crumbles and flees from the shattering blows. Another advancement. Fists up-

Pause. The mute whirls around, a cloth tied around the lower half of her face must have been once white, but now a sandy brown. Along with a light coating over the rest of her form. A few blinks. Brows raise.

Fists drop as she tugs down the face wrap to reveal a lopsided smile. "Guess I'll just have to break it to its core before it decides to change its mind," she gesticulates, dust trailing from the cloth wrappings on her fists. "Good to see you, welcome to my day job." <Handspeech>

A snowy brow arches. "Day job? This seems terribly land-bound for an admiral, wouldn't you agree?" Her smile has not left as she approaches. "It is good to see you, too. I presume that you don't intend to bring the mountain down, and surely not on your own head."

Aryia good naturedly rolls her eyes. "Very funny. The Balance isn't made for ice. So its stuck there for now until the season changes."

She fishes around in her pocket for a rag, using it to wipe her face and arms off. There's a snort. "If I could do that, I'm sure I'd be in jail for some reason or another. But like that'd keep me there. No, this is just training. Been at this for a while. Enjoying your time out of...-" She gestures vaguely at everything. <Handspeech>

Aya rolls her shoulders in a shrug before gesturing towards the port in combination with small pantomined punches. "You would obviously make an excellent ice-breaker," she points out. Her expression then turns: less casual bemusement, but not entirely dour. "All has been... comfortable, if not entirely relaxed. I have spent far too much time far too secluded... even if it was rather pleasant seclusion." <handspeech>

Aryia silently snickers. "Takes one to know one," she fires back before a sigh escapes her. "I understand. Our Hunt isn't done, so any true semblance of relaxing isn't a thing until that's wrapped up. To be fair, I myself have been rather reclusive. Not that I mind, it's a nice change of pace. But a true 'all my shit is wrapped up' would be the icing on the cake." <Handspeech>

Aya nods, exhaling a breath echoing her sister's before returning to speaking aloud. "It is not, but I hope it shall be soon. We will truly be able to rest, and perhaps less reclusively." The more somber shift lingers a moment before furrows in her brow are broken as just the one lifts anew, tuggin the corner of her mouth with it.

"While we are on the topic of reclusive activities, how are you and ...Violet?"

Aryia steps forward, her clapping Aya's shoulder reassuringly. "Nothing we cannot do together," she fistpumps, grinning cockily. "Besides, I have some ideas that I'm going to need a hand with..."

The question makes her blink, smile softening. "We're good. Comfortable. She does her thing-" a moment to glance about, then- "getting information and sneaking into places for it. I do my 'help around the city with shit and then crash' thing. And you and Daed?" she fires back. <Handspeech>

Aya's own smile grows and softens at Aryia's own. "Good. You deserve to be comfortable." She is not surprised by the counter-question. "Comfortable. Too much so... possibly? It is..." Now her smile quirks with a spot of wry. "I suppose neither you nor I were ever accustomed to, or even expecting where we are now, so it sometimes feels ...odd?"

Aryia turns her grin off to the side as she watches the dust settle. "It does feel odd," she motions to the air towards Aya as her eyes travel up the side of the quarry. "We never really knew comfort. Stability. Always one thing after another. Even now, despite ongoings, it feels as if we've hit a chapter in our lives that just reads in big letters: 'take a break'."

Shining gaze drops back down to Aya. A wide, lopsided, determined grin has plastered itself on her face. "But we're not ones to sit with idle hands, no?" <Handspeech>

"No, we're not," Aya affirms, "though I can't say it was not needed." A hand gestures to the cracked stone. "I hope you have taken some rest, sister, and didn't take the breaking too literally..."

Her mirth then hardens as she lifts her arm to stretch and exhales a sigh. "Your hands have been far less idle than mine: collecting sweat and dust, while mine have gathered little more than flour..." An image of Aya that could be cozy, even charming. Or possibly terrifying. When her arms lower, they end in a ready stance. "I have grown soft. Perhaps even moreso than the mountain stone."

Aryia counts on her fingers. "I'm either punching rocks, tending to the boat, sewing shit, working out, or sleeping in. That sounds like a break to me," she lists out, chuckles. "Stone and iron is the one that wants a break."

She tilts her head. Blinks. Pales slightly. It's plain as day to see what's being visualized in the mute sister's mind: Aya attempting cooking, with a house on fire. "I really hope your pancakes aren't shit anymore."

The Admiral shakes her head, reconstituting herself as she spies a familiar ready stance. A smile graces her lips. "Soft? No. Even steel needs time to rest to become harder."

Her fists raise. Pause. "Before we kick each others' asses, I have need of aid for something I have been working on." <Handspeech>

Aya's hands lower slightly at the comment. The second, that is. A fresh smile grows, slightly uneven. "It is a time for family gatherings, no? You and Violet should join us for a meal." Invitation? Threat? Challenge? Perhaps all of the above.

Her stance relaxes further at the last comment. "What do you need? Whatever you ask, you will have."

Aryia snorts. "That sounds like a good idea. Could even wrangle my parents in, if you wanted." If it's all of the above, might as well make it as explosive as possible!

There's a sense of purpose in Aryia's eyes. "I spoke with you about me starting some kind of... order? Guild? Group? To teach how to do what we do without all the suffering to do it. I believe I have all the necessary paperwork and shit. I have just have two things in the way. Posting about interest. And-"

A big sigh. "A name. Need a fucking name. Do you have any ideas?" <Handspeech>

Aya blinks. That was not at all what she expected. "Your parents are welcome, of course." That comes easily enough, as it was not the unexpected part. Her brow promptly furrows in thought: she promised, now has to deliver. It is probably no surprise that, when in doubt or under pressure, the reflexive path is that of snark. "Admiral Zilly's College of Aggressive Handspeech? Or would that be too ostentatious?"

Aryia has a pensive expression, thoughtful, ready for ideas and criticism. And the suggestion is taken readily. As its source was one that was so dependabl-

She pauses. Blinks twice.

Then a sucker punch to the gut flies out. "F-ck y-u. I'- g-ng t- k-ck y-r -ss f-r th-t!" she hisses out, snickering.

Aya's alleged baking in lieu have training may have, indeed, made her soft. That, or she didn't see it coming. Or possibly realized from the start that she would deserve it. She catches the sucker punch rather than avoid it, though the fact that said gut's muscles tighten reflexively to absorb some of it and she allows herself to be moved with it to futher dissipate some of the force... well, she has not forgotten everything.

As she regains her footing, she does so back in stance and with hands raised. She is also grinning broadly. "I would be a poor sister if I did not taunt you once in awhile, and it has been far too long. We will find a fitting name for your school of hard knocks, Aryia."

Aryia rolls her eyes, snorting at the further play on words. A thumbs up is flashed in recognition of finding something that works. But right now, there was some catching up to do. She grins.

Then sprints full send at her sister, leaping to tackle.

The miners are going to find their quarry further far more carved out than they left it.

-End Scene-