September & October Catch-All

[spiritwalks]

Who: Vyng spiritwalks and YOU
What: Catch-All for September + October. See comments for prompts!
When: Various
Where: Various

Note: Style veers wildly between prose and brackets. Just choose whatever style feels good when responding, and I'll match it ♥

Content Warnings: Listed in subject lines when applicable

Comments

Training [Early October]

[spiritwalks]

Maybe you stumble across Vyng training. Or maybe you both decide ahead of time to help each other practice. It's equally likely he roped the first poor bastard saw on his way to the Farther Shores.

Regardless, this sudden rash of productivity is brought to you by: an ever-present sense of fragility and inadequacy, with a healthy dose of "oh shit, it's October".

As far as Vyng is concerned, there's no other choice. It's time to revisit the fundamentals.


A. is for Attack:

[...Which starts off with him pulling out a bottle of water. He turns to his companion, shaking the container a little to emphasize what he's about to say next:]

Alright, pal. Alls you gotta do is hold still. Keep this bottle on your head, and I'll try knocking it off.

[What could go wrong?]



B. is for Breathe:

[Of course, it's not just your body that needs honing. Your mind does too. Vyng sits cross-legged on the black sand, eyes closed and hands resting on his knees. An incense stick is perched in the sand. Lending a warm, earthy scent to the ocean are are wisps of smoke curling from the stick's smoldering tip.

Ever since the bloodsport bullshit in September, he's been offering to teach other people the benefits of meditation and mindfulness. Vyng has plenty of experience, after all. Under his tutelage, even the squirmiest of 9-year-old halflings have learned to focus and breathe through tumultuous thoughts.

Granted, Vyng's way of communicating a lesson can sometimes be...strange. For now, though, he gently guides his companion on a journey of peace and calm:]

Focus on the warmth of the sand beneath your feet. Feel the heat travel through your body. Listen to your heart beat against your ribs.

[Deep breath in — one, two, three, four. Hold it for two seconds, aaaand let it out through your mouth. Nice and slow, just like Vyng showed earlier. Soothingly, he continues:]

The air is cold in your lungs.

Are your nipples erect?

[A beat, his eyes still closed.]

That's a rhetorical question. Don't answer that, please.



C. is for...Charades played backwards?

[You've practiced your fighting forms. You've centered your mind. Now? The real work begins. Vyng looks at his training companion with a grave expression.]

We want to be ready for whatever happens next, right? Which means we need to learn to adapt to any situation. So...

[Vyng lets out a slow breath...and drops into a low crouch to the ground.]

Name an animal. Any animal.



D. is for DIY: ((Have another training-related idea? Go nuts! Or plot with me on Plurk or Discord.))

B

[survivalthroughhate]

[Maul taught a few people back in Deerington to meditate though for some reason he can't quite seem to get people to connect with it on the same spiritual level either. Even being connected to the Force doesn't guarantee someone will be good at it. His brother Savage tends to fall asleep more often than not when Maul asks him to do a session with him, so it really has to be something a person grasps on their own.

When Vyng appears to be looking for someone to meditate with, Maul immediately decides to do so with him. Vyng is probably (and oddly enough) the person here who has come closest to grasping what the Force is without actually being Force-sensitive himself, so Maul feels like he might understand meditation on a better level than some here. He's proven right as Vyng goes through a basic meditation exercise, clearing his mind as he feels the Dark Side of the Force flowing through him.

He feels connected to all things and is beginning to think Vyng really knows what he's talking about.]

You know, you're one of the only people here who know how to meditate properly.

[Then Vyng goes and asks.....that. Maul growls without opening his eyes.]

I take it back. You're a fruitcake.

[spiritwalks]

[Out of all the insults people have lobbed at Vyng over the years, "fruitcake" is one of the nicer ones. (And after that growl, he almost expected worse.) Still, he lets out another slow breath, allowing the Sith's comment to linger in the salty ocean air. A few moments later, he responds: ]

...Mind-body awareness. It's the connection between our environment, our emotions, and the physical responses they arouse. Muscles tighten. Breathing changes. Nipples get hard.

[Vyng can't quite mask the twisted, amused grin in his voice.]

Nothing to be embarrassed about, Maul. Happens to all of us.

[A beat, before adding:]

Why "fruitcake", though? Feeling hungry?

[survivalthroughhate]

And he still continues to point it out. I am starting to question my motivation for staying here.

[Yet stay there he does. He's curious to see what Vyng's methods will be for achieving a meditative state. He does what he's doing despite being an eccentric loon so Maul decides to wait before he storms off in a huff. It really has been a long time since he had someone else to meditate with.]

Not for fruit. Zabrak are carnivores. I read the phrase "nutty as a fruitcake" in a book somewhere. Nightbrothers and Sith both don't know that one. But it seems to fit you quite nicely.

[spiritwalks]

[Vyng gives a quiet, good-natured chuckle.

It's strange. Although some of his time in Deerington is still fuzzy like a distant dream, there's something about Maul that makes Vyng uneasy — something that goes beyond Dark and Light. It goes deeper than what happened to Glitch, even. Because that, at least, can be blamed on the Dream's tendency to violently expose people's darkest traumas and fears. And while Glitch isn't obligated to forgive Maul (and quite frankly, he doesn't expect him to), Vyng also firmly believes in second chances for people who are willing to change.

And after being literally reborn in this strange world...don't they all deserve a second chance?

So for now, he doesn't examine those feelings too closely. Instead, Vyng lets out a breath and calmly lets that thought drift away. There will be plenty of time to unpack it later.]

Thank you.

[He knows it's not a compliment, but treats it like one anyway.]

We were on a pretty good roll. [Until Vyng fucked it up.] Shall we get back to it?

[survivalthroughhate]

Yes. Let us.

[He's willing to try this again with Vyng given the man seems to run on random thoughts half the time, so this really doesn't seem out of the realm of how he usually acts.

Maul recenters himself in the Dark Side of the Force and goes back to letting his thoughts become an organized river, flowing in and out of his mind while he breathes gently in and out. He lets the Force flow through him and around him, connecting him to all living things. He can feel the squids in the ocean, small and unformed, so new in their life. There's the people in the city, each blood type feeling slightly different to his senses. All the animals and plants, so full of life as well.

He feels Vyng as well right by him, the energy coming off of him too. He probes outwards with his extrasensory perception, trying to sense what Vyng is made up of.]

A

[onekindsoul]

[Okay Ruby stands as still as she can. Which is actually pretty impressive for a girl with the amount of energy that she has. Her eye peers up but she obviously can't see see the bottle on her head.

Then she looks to Vyng and smirks.]

You got it! At least with me there's less chances of you getting it in my eye, right?

[One eyed jokes. She's making them.]

[spiritwalks]

Eye see— [WINK.] —what you did there.

[If anybody can appreciate a good "hahah, I got maimed" joke, it's Vyng.]

Okay. [He's stepping back now, to accommodate the length of his stork legs.] Here goes.

[Vyng assumes a fighting stance, legs apart while holding loosely-curled hands up in in guard position. A few beats pass, until he rotates around on both feet. By the time his back is facing Ruby, he's gathered enough momentum to slice through the air with a spinning heel kick straight at the crown of his training partner's head.

Thunk!

A clean swipe! The bottle spins off her head and whizzes toward the sand behind her.]

[onekindsoul]

Eye bet you did!

[Ruby goes quiet and watches as he enters his stance. Despite her calm demeanor her silver eye watched with an eager sort of curiosity. She was a born fighter and she was taking the opportunity to get a handle on just what Vyng was capable of.

Right up until his leg passed by her head and the bottle was knocked clean off. Then her eyes brighten like an excited kid and she claps her hands together.]

Oh my gosh- You got it one! That's so amazing!

[spiritwalks]

Ahahah. Lucky shot...

[Which probably isn't what somebody wants to hear right after having a bottle of water kicked off their head? But, seriously, they could have gone so much worse.]

Maybe all that yoga is paying off.

[onekindsoul]

[Luckily Ruby knew that accidents happened in training and she had been punched in the face or headbutted enough times to be able to take a kick with good humor.]

I mean- Luck is a sort of skill in it's own, right?

[It probably was not but she liked to give it some credit.]

Is it cheating at Yoga when you've probably been a downward dog before? Like some sort of weird muscle memory advantage?

B, forgive me,

[unsheathedfromreality]

[It's been since Illarion died that he last meditated. Even when alive, he was always an inconstant practitioner of the art (much to a certain priest's amused dismay). Having someone experienced lead him through a session is exactly what he needed to take it up again, not that--oh, inconstant heart--he knew he wanted to take up meditation again until some stranger had offered to teach him.

So, here he is sitting on his heels in the sand in a crouch most comfortable for a shrike, wrists turned upward on his knees and eyes closed. His bare toes dig comfortably into the sand, and his shadow seems to have disappeared somewhere.

He's pretending to breathe more than he's really breathing, since breath control's part of the exercise even if one doesn't need the air. It is--pleasant, is the strongest word he can muster for the feeling, pleasant to feel his wider awareness slip into the beach and the underlying current of (grief/rage/pain) that was constant to the Unearthed slip away. A moment of silence inside his own head is a blessed thing, a thing to be held onto--

Ah.

He opens an unfocused eye at the question.]

I don't have these. [So, no, they are not by function of nonexistence.] Not being a mammal.

[He closes the eye again, resuming his simulacrum of breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth, ignore that most of the air doesn't make it to your lungs...

No, wait, he can't focus on this now that the thought's gotten into his head.] Does that usually happen, when you are meditating?

never apologize <3

[spiritwalks]

[Vyng gives a quiet "hm!" at that bit of info, ignoring the fact he explicitly said not to answer. Inwardly, he's actually a little proud of himself for putting aside his usual prejudices against anybody who looks elven. They're all squid kids now, after all, and Vyng is happy to help out.

In fact, he begins to ease back into the guided meditation...until his companion interrupts again. Eyes still closed, he patiently answers:]

Well, I'm from the Frozen North. My body's kinda acclimated to the cold already. Communing with nature on a crisp day? Pretty comfy, actually. [A little more flirtatiously, he adds:] They still get hard from other kinds of communing, though...

[Vyng hasn't met anyone quite like this guy before. Which is saying a lot, considering what a weirdo-magnet Deerington used to be. In the end, his own curiosity wins out. He opens both eyes and looks over at the other man, following up with a genuine question of his own.]

How do people back home feed their young, then? Do they chew food up for them?

unapologetic weirdness from here out

[unsheathedfromreality]

[Oh, now that is a fine how-do-you-do. Both Illarion's eyes pop back open, one corner of his mouth tugging up in a smile with a hint of fangs to it.] Ah, a mammal feature, it turns out, I am very fond of.

[It occurs to him, suddenly, to volunteer that he is dead, and apologize for daring to speak so to one of the living.

He does not, after considering it. It would ruin a nice moment and the other fellow likely already noticed, anyway.

The question on child-rearing comes as something of a relief even so.]

Our ancestors did, before we came out of the trees. Now, we have fire, so we cook for them. Though, [and here he grins for emphasis; look at the fangs,] our children are still, [still?] born with their egg teeth, and quickly learn to chew on their own.

we're all weirdos here

[spiritwalks]

[Plenty of people in Deerington would have either sputtered in embarrassment, missed the innuendo, or otherwise shut him down. It was surprisingly rare for a Sleeper to catch the ball and toss it back at Vyng without missing a beat.

His lips curl into a knowing smile.]

One of many, no doubt.

[The detail about egg teeth is wild, though. When he first saw this elf with large eyes, a beak-like nose, and markings resembling plumage beneath the eyes of falcon, Vyng initially wondered if he was a druid with an unusual tell. But, no. Apparently, somewhere in the multi-verse, there's a world where elves descended from birds instead of trees.

Incredible. And kind of hilarious, actually. Elves back home typically prided themselves on keeping their feet firmly rooted to their Mother Tree.

By now, Vyng has given up on any pretense of continuing their meditation. He drops his earlier position and leans back against his palms, fingers idly digging into the coarse sand.]

Oh yeah? What else do they learn?

rest in weird

[unsheathedfromreality]

[Free and comfortable as the shrikes were with the earthier side of their natures, flirting landed somewhere between a cherished pastime and a competitive sport when they were at home. To say nothing of how practiced the Warlords and their officers were in the arts of seduction--all very necessary to their jobs--and that is something Illarion hasn't thought about or practiced for years. (Death did that to a man.)

Gratifying how easy it is to slip back into, even if it's only play.]

No doubt.

[Wherever the conversation went from that--did it go anywhere, which Illarion scarcely expects--it's probably not for a public beach. There is a certain look in his unfocused eyes, though...

He settles back more comfortably on his heels now that they've traded meditation for conversation, resting his folded arms across his thighs.]

To walk, and to speak, at first. Not so unusual for mammals, I understand, but strange for elves, who come out the egg knowing both. [Descended from birds and not all that far, either.] We are odd, and have given up both eggs and precocity.

[Which is a story in and of itself; and the amusement on Illarion's narrow face says he fully expects more questions about that.]

After this, they learn to keep themselves safe in the wood; and to follow after their parents at their trades. But that is more expected for most children, yes? Or are yours different?

c

[arclightning]

...what?

[ Isn't this whole thing supposed to be about physicality and learning to connect motion to element? Why is Vyng asking him—

Wait, no, Mako. Think quick, on your feet. He's already shifting into something like a fighting stance when the question catches up to him. ]

Koalaotter.

[spiritwalks]

[Vyng tries to grasp for Mako's hand. His other arm, meanwhile, pulls inward — summoning a quick wind gust that comes in from behind his sparring partner.

He's trying to combine his own weight and the elements to pull Mako onto the ground with him. While keeping their hands intertwined. Just like a pair of sea otters sleep with their tiny lil hands clasped together.]

Koala-otter Style!

[arclightning]

That's not even—

[ Despite having spent a lot of time sparring with Korra—and with the air kids—that particular move takes Mako by surprise. The wind pushes, and Vyng pulls, and Mako tumbles forward. It's only his pro-bending experience that keeps it from being entirely successful: Mako gets halfway through the fall, laughing despite himself, and tucks his head inward, turning it into a roll and rooting his feet into the earth like Bolin always does. They both go crashing down, but at least they're both equally reponsible for the momentum.

And Mako is grinning all the while, kind of thrilled to have such a creative sparring partner, even one who makes up nonsense moves. ]

[spiritwalks]

Impressive save, bud!

[Vyng enjoys a sparring partner who rolls with the punches and keeps him on his toes. As Mako's stance solidifies, Vyng mirrors that grin and lets go of the other man's hand. He rolls into a half-crouch of his own.]

Quick, another!

[arclightning]

Turtleduck.

[ He gets the game now, at least, and Vyng's really coming along on the bending front, which is impressive. It took Korra forever to learn how to airbend, but then, Vyng's a lot more... floaty than solid, aggressive Korra was back then. Vyng and air make sense together. He even looks like he should have wind around him at all times, with all that hair.

And it's kind of nice to know that Mako's world is going to live on with someone else, even in this tiny way. ]

A

[themuseabandonsyou]

Oh, okay! [ says Orpheus, brightly, taking the water bottle when it's handed to him and carefully balancing it on his head as instructed. It takes a tiny bit of adjustment to get it to stay, but he's got good posture and manages without much fuss. With that, he stands as still as he can manage, watching Vyng curiously and without any apparent trepidation. Obviously he knows what he's doing, right? So it's perfectly safe. ]

[spiritwalks]

[Yes! Obviously. Most definitely.]

Okay. Here it comes...

[Deep breath. Orpheus is too good, too pure to injure. Even by accident. The fact his friend even agreed to this stunt at all is proof enough, bless him.

Don't overthink it, Vyng tells himself. Just do it. After taking a moment to center himself — mentally and physically — Vyng twists his body around, brings his long leg up toward Orpheus's crown. And then:]

WHACK!

[That's what Vyng literally shouts as his foot collides with the bottle. Partly as an outlet for the sudden spike of anxiety he got just now, partly for fun. Either way, the bottle flies off Orpheus's head and gets lodged in the sand.]

Whew!

[Vyng straightens up, grin lighting up his face when it finally registers that he didn't give his friend a concussion.]

That...actually turned out better than I thought it would, ahahah.

[themuseabandonsyou]

[ Orpheus takes a deep breath and to his great credit does not flinch as Vyng swings his leg up and over his head - an impressive feat! He's not a short man! When the bottle goes flying he does turn to watch it go, though, and throws his hands up in a celebratory gesture. ]

Oh, good! [ he says, blissfully oblivious to the implication that Vyng was worried about kicking him in the head. ] That was really impressive! I'm not sure I could do anything nearly that coordinated.

[spiritwalks]

Hey, thanks. And thank you for, uh, standing in. My buddy Tuck is wayyyy too tall for this exercise.

[Vyng moves to retrieve the bottle.]

You're pretty dexterous, aren't you? Sounds like you're selling yourself short to me.

What do you normally do when shit hits the fan?