come_sailaway | Where Do I Go From Here [OPEN]

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Where Do I Go From Here [OPEN]

Who: Ruby Rose & You!
What: Monthly shenanigans, trues and lies and otherwise
When: Throughout July, even tho I'm real late
Where: Sports deck, library, generally around
Warnings: None yet, will add
Notes: For 2 or 3, either tell me if you want truth or lies (or neither, in 3's case) or I'll pick/roll for it.

1. I'm scared about a million things

You might want to be careful when you come up to the sports deck when Ruby's there. Training for this particular teenager involves swinging around a very sharp, six-foot tall scythe, and though she's clearly very well in control of it, it's still, well, a very sharp, six-foot tall scythe being swung through the air.

The acrobatics Ruby can perform are impressive and perhaps borderline physics defying. Not wanting to waste her ammo, she's at least not firing the rifle portion of the weapon to propel herself further into the air with the recoil, but that doesn't mean she isn't throwing herself into the air and doing crazy flips, twists and leaps. Sometimes it's with the help of Petal Burst, that red blur and streak of petals she becomes, but more often it isn't. She's just like this.

Maybe she notices someone's there after she stops for a break, and immediately shoots ramrod straight with an awkward wave and a, "Oh, hey, didn't realise I had an audience, heh." Maybe she doesn't notice someone getting too close until the last second and rapidly changes course with a startled, "Whoa!" Or maybe someone just interrupts her. No matter what, she's up there at least once a week to keep on top of her training.

2. I don't know what the future brings (truth/lies)

The first time Ruby gets caught in the rain, on that first weekend of the month, it's on purpose. Oblivious to the effects it's having and finding herself starting to actually miss the rain, with the weather here being the same all the time, she just wants to stand in it for a while. Maybe someone finds her standing there, the spiked up parts of her hair slowly deflating from the drizzle, or maybe they catch her somewhere else in the hour after; regardless, the water's done it's thing and she has no idea.

Later in the month, it's far less purposeful. She tries to avoid going outside at all on the weekends, but sometimes she has to cross an open area and unfortunately, just Petal Bursting through it doesn't actually stop her getting wet—what, she had to try. It feels pretty rude to try and outright avoid anyone, though, so she can still be found around the ship, maybe the arcade or the buffet or otherwise wandering around.

3. And I ask myself (truth/lies/neither)

Ruby's in the library. It's a quiet enough place to just... sit and think, or to sit and try not to think by burying her head in some of the books. Mostly anything that resembles a fairy tale, those have always been her favourites; she's always loved the stories of the heroes fighting for what's right, making the world a better place. Turns out it's a lot harder in reality than it is in the stories, but... she's trying not to dwell too hard on that part.

If she does, she'll just think about home, and all the friends she doesn’t exactly wish were here but misses all the same, and all the things she should be doing. Better not to think about any of that. That's what fantasy stories are for, anyway, right? Escaping all the things you don't want to worry about.

4. Where do I go from here? (Wilcard)

[ Catch her like, anywhere after she's had to shower or drink or something. Or elsewhere without the water's effects in play on her.

bluecitrine or artisticblueteam#5757 if you want to plot something specific. ]

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Well, that's just neat.

Ylva watches, squatting in the corner while she eats something she's brought up with her from the buffet. It may have been a burrito. She licks her fingers clean and wipes them on her pants. Her feet are bare, she's wearing some battered leather armour, there's a sword at her hip, and if you manage to see them under the wild mass of reddish hair, her ears have a definite point to them.

When Ruby stops, Ylva pops the last bit in her mouth and applauds enthusiastically.

Ruby doesn't quite jump, but she does straighten up suddenly at the sound of applause and looks at least a little bit— surprised? Applause is not a reaction she really gets to just training; during the Vytal festival there was a lot of cheering and clapping from the audiences, but that's a tournament, you know, that's different.

But before all else, Ruby is still a dork, and after a split second of confusion she laughs a little and does a playful bow, "Oh, uh— thank you, thank you. I'm here all..." beat, "well, for as long as we're stuck here, I guess!"

"I'd rather fight with you than against you," Ylva says, grinning. "The turning into... petals? It looks like petals." She mimes a sort of 'zoom' through the air with her hand. "Anyway, that's neat. I've seen people do that sort of thing with mist, but not petals."

She stands up and comes over, wiping her hands on her front. "Are you a warlock?" Her friend who can do something similar is a warlock. She's going off that.

"Well that's good, 'cause I'd always rather fight with people not against them. Unless it's for fun." You can guess just about how often that's how it goes, but it's said brightly, non-seriously.

She leans Crescent Rose against her shoulder, twirling it not unlike someone with an umbrella. A very big, very sharp umbrella. "Yes to petals, no to warlock. Is that a magic thing? Like uh— like a wizard or something?"

Both w words, right, and it would hardly be the first time someone's seen her use her semblance and gone right to magic.

"Well, not the same," Ylva says, vaguely. Truthfully the exact difference between the schools of magic that she does not follow herself is sometimes a little unclear to her. "But similar. Uh. Wizards study, warlocks have a patron. Magic either way, though."

She wrinkles her nose thoughtfully. "It might be fun to spar," she says. Sure she's older than Ruby, but clearly she can hold her own, and isn't that what counts? She gives a little laugh. "I'd go easy on you. I'm Ylva."

"Huh! Man, magic sure seems super different in everyone's worlds... the only actual magic in mine is done by a guy who's kinda a wizard, and the maidens."

Also Salem, but she's not sure how to describe Salem concisely. A witch? A god? An immortal nightmare out to destroy everything? Easier not to include her, for now.

"Sparring is always fun! Though I'm kiiiinda bad at pure hand-to-hand stuff, so, uh, depends how well you hold up to weapons? I'm learning not everyone comes with a personal shield around here." Which is still weird! "Oh uh, and I'm Ruby!"

"Huh, really? Magic is really common where I'm from. There's different kinds. I work with nature magic, myself. I'm a druid, you see."

Ylva seems to assume that this should be a self-explanatory statement. She draws her sword, though. It's a scimitar: long, narrow, with a curve to the blade. "Weapons are good. I have a shield, but... I left it in my room. I prefer to fight with both."

Don't worry, Ruby, Ylva is her party's tank. And also healer. She'll be fine.

Ruby just sort of rolls with it. Wizards, studying. Warlocks, whatever a patron is. Druids, nature magic. That's already far more types of magic than she's used to.

"Most of Remnant's magic kind of went... extinct, I guess? It's a long story. But it's super interesting hearing about places where it's common, I can't imagine magic just being... everywhere."

Ruby everyone you know has a special superpower that may as well be magic.

"My shield's sort of, well," she taps herself, "built-in. But a friend of mine, he fights with a sword and a real, physical shield too, so." She absolutely knows what she's doing, she's fought so many weapon combinations. She flashes a grin. "You may not have to go that easy on me."

"Really?"

That brightens Ylva up considerably. That makes things so much simpler from her perspective. It means she doesn't have to pull her punches, so to speak, at least not more than is necessary to avoid seriously hurting her opponent. "Then we absolutely should. At some point. It doesn't have to be today. But it should happen. Is magic allowed?"

"Sure, so long as I can use my semblance," the petals, hopefully clear from context but, "then why not, keeps things interesting! You'll know if you've got through my shield if there's suddenly a bunch of red, sparkly stuff coming off me."

And having it broken isn't a big deal, it'll recharge, even tournaments sometimes go to total aura break. (Though it is one of those things that's actually kind of inconvenient in a real fight, talk about broadcasting to your enemy when you're most vulnerable...)

Ylva claps her hands. "Amazing. Then it's agreed? No holds barred, but non-lethal. No one gets permanently hurt."

But then, she's been watching Ruby for a little bit, so she's got a definite advantage. If it were a real fight, that might be a good thing, but it's not, and also she's pretty sure she's older than Ruby (though honestly she's not always good at telling and she doesn't really know how old she is), and there are just Certain Rules about a good sparring match.

"I've seen one of your tricks," she says. "You probably have others, I'm guessing, and I have a few. Do you want to see my big trick? It'll be fair that way."

"I may have a few more things up my sleeve, yeah." Sort of, aura isn't just a shield, even if that's the main thing it is. And there's always her dust cartridges... "Sure, go ahead and show me!"

Which is as much about her being very very curious to see what it is as it is about keeping things fair, honestly.

"Well, all right."

Ylva straightens, flexes her shoulders experimentally, with a thoughtful expression on her face. What sort of shape to pick? She knows some very strong shapes which she's very partial to, but this isn't a fight right now, so perhaps an actual dinosaur is not what she wants. And given a choice, there are certain shapes that just feel... well, more her. And then, of course, there's one in particular that is both impressive and very familiar for her. She shifts, easily, into the shape of a wolf -- but an extremely large wolf, as large as a horse.

The dire wolf -- because that's what she is, right now -- shakes herself, and sits down, panting.

If Ruby swore there would be a 'Holy Shit' here, but Ruby doesn't swear, so there's just a wide eyed awe and a quiet little, "Wooooooow."

Shapeshifting isn't really a thing in her world, because it is firmly in the realm of magic. There's maybe two people that she knows can do it. (Arguably, Ruby can also shapeshift, as her petals really do involve deconstructing herself, but...)

"That is really cool."

She wags her tail, a heavy thump against the floor; in her experience, most humans understand that sort of body language from dogs. Ylva could turn back immediately, but she's a little reluctant to do that so soon when there's things that she could be doing in this shape.

So she stands and comes over to give Ruby a (mostly) gentle friendly nudge with her head.

Ruby giggles, one foot going back to steady herself a bit against being nudged by such a big wolf but otherwise she's good. And, with some marginal hesitation in case it's weird to, brings up a hand to— pat Ylva's big wolf head.

"The only people I know who can do this can only turn into tiny little birds, which— that's cool, too, but this is waaaay cooler. You're like... the size of a Beowolf."

She accepts the pats happily enough -- she, at least, is too physical a person to consider that undignified -- but she does step back to shift back into her original shape.

"Dire wolf," she says, matter of factly, "not... Beowulf. I could be a little bird too, if I wanted. What's a Beowulf?"

"Beowolf are a type of Grimm—which uh, they're monsters, in my world. There's a lot of types but Beowolves are super common. They're way larger than normal wolves, but also like..." Vague gesturing, "all black with white bony bits. They're not actual animals, just... destruction given physical shape? So. They get preeeetty big."

Ylva hums thoughtfully, trying to imagine.

"Are they flesh or more like spirits?" she asks, trying to get a firm notion of what Ruby is talking about. "Or... or something else? Are they the sort of thing that needs killing?"

"They were made by one of the Gods from my world. They're... not spirits, and they're not really flesh, it's— hard to describe, when you kill them they disintegrate but if you cut them before that their insides are all— pure, glowing red."

No organs. Just... energy. Presumably pure destructive energy condensed into a physical form.

"They kill people not for sustenance but to instil more fear, and just... for the sake of destruction. They're drawn towards negative emotions, so when they attack and people panic..." It becomes a feedback loop. "So, Huntsmen have to deal with them. It's most of what I'm trained for."

Ylva nods, seriously. "That does sound like the sort of thing that should be destroyed. For the sake of people who can't fight for themselves, if nothing else. I sometimes get involved in that sort of thing. Usually nothing quite so... abstract, though."

She considers. "I like to think of it as problem solving. Sometimes you find a ghost that needs to be laid to rest, sometimes you're told to kill a dragon in a sewer but she's really just looking for her lost egg."

"Those are way more varied outcomes than we get, definitely. There's really nothing you can do about Grimm except kill them. It'd actually be nice if sometimes it was something that could be solved another way."

Grimm in a sewer is always a kill mission. And, see, she's very, very good at killing Grimm, and it's entirely necessary, but it's also, well, pretty grim. If you'll excuse the pun.

"I mean, huntsmen get other assignments, just— not when it's about Grimm."

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Where Do I Go From Here [OPEN]

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