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Graded [Ryken City] Misogyny Melee! Frederika vs Rudolph

D. Rex

Magic Eight Ball
Goals
Frederika:
Rika's goal is to get even with the guy who besmirched her honor.

My [Player] goal is to participate in a collaborative fight scene while honing my PvP skills somewhat.

Rika might also join Rudolph's club depending on how the scene unfolds. Perhaps they'll become allies, friends, or, at the very least, acquaintances.

Rudolph:
For Rudolph, his goal is to defend his younger peers from a potential threat, by taking responsibility of the incident onto himself. And maybe teach her a thing or too, if not learn something himself.


As a Player, I'm hoping to use this as a chance to establish the Racial evolution for Rudolph.

As well as giving Frederika the benefit of Rudy's Mentor skill.





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Just Outside Ryken Academy...

Public Access Ryken Training Building 14: Falling Leaves Dojo


Falling Leaves Dojo... as it was called by the particular group of students that trained there. A group of the more crude first year students that the Academy had to offer. Pleasantly located outside the main walls of the Academy to the delight of the facility... but not so much to Ryken proper, who had to deal with the shenanigans of the rambunctious and often troublesome youths.

And it was antics relating to their reputation that the constant thwacking of training swords was now replaced with cacophony of moans and groans and curses. For all around her, lay seven fallen bodies of her foes, rolling around in various states of pain and unconsciousness. At least three had been knocked out. Another three had been painfully Incapacitated. They had been lucky she had used one if the training swords instead of her cutlass... a mercy on her part.


"The fucking bitch, you broke my nose!" He cried out, on one knee with both hands clasped firmly over his nose. His weapon having slid across the floor a few feet away. Him... yes he was the reason Frederika was here in the first place. For the vile words he said... and for slipping a hand where it was not meant to go to say but some of it... she had followed him here to teach him a lesson. A lesson she had yet to teach. That his friends had decided to gang up on her was their problem. Five more of the students waited on the edges of dojo, hesitant to get involved after seeing their peers be handled so thoroughly. And if they wanted to get involved too... far be it from her to deny them the same fate.





Frederika could smell the earthy scent of tobacco before she even heard the door open and the draft sent another wave of the smoke in her direction... she would turn to see young man standing in the doorway.

Just a few inches shorter than she was, though his shaggy dark brown hair nearly made up the difference. He looked older than the rest of the goons here. Not by much, but he was clearly their senior. He wore a fine red brigandine over the ryken uniform the rest of the students sported, though given its wrinkled state he certainly didn't wear it with as much pride as they did. Even with coat and brigadine... Frederika would be able to tell that this young man was much fit than these other louts, and his stance suggested he likely more capable too.

In between his teeth was cheap looking pipe, that appeared to have been made from an old corn cob. The only thing cheaper seemed to be the tobacco he was using, judging from the smell.

His gaze took in the seen of his fallen peers with an annoyed scowl. One hand on his hip, while the other rested on the pommel of the sword at his belt. Frederika would be able to judge it as a rather broad hand-and-a-half sword. Given that this guy was blocking the exit now... this one could be trouble.


"The fuck is going in here?" He growled, and his tone was one that expected an answer sooner rather than later.


"Boss!" One of the youngest one called, hiding behind a rack of training equipment. "It was her! She just barged in and started beating the shit out of us! For no reason!" His voice rather pathetic as he pointed a finger desperately at the beastkin.


"Riiiiight...." the young man said with skepticism so sharp is could cut the coming night back into day. This suggested was clearly familiar with this group being up to no good. But then with a delayed reaction he spoke again, "And don't call me that, Kamer!" He snapped angrily.

The youth winced and hid back behind the equipment, "S-sorry bo-... Rudolph..." he answered timidly, "... and its Camer."


"Yeah, sure, whatever." He dismissed the kid and started walking forwards to Frederika. He stopped several paces away from her.


"Now you listen here woman, I don't care if you came here to start crap or end it. Whatever has your panties in a wad, you just made a right mess of my home. It may be a shithole, but it's my shithole... and I don't appreciate that. Not to mention the only one allowed to beat some sense into these assholes is me."

"So you got a bee in your bonnet, fine then. You got a problem with them, you can settle it with me instead."



TheSimianMind TheSimianMind
 
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Um, you really shouldn't smoke, sir: it's not healthy! Smoking damages your alveoli thus decreasing your lung capacity which in turn makes you less suited to physical labors. Secondhand smoke is also injurious. Not to mention tatami is highly flammable, so you might accidentally burn down your, uh...

With a flick of the wrist, Frederika du Roberval, of the Agin's Court Robervals, motions to the room. This isn't a residential building, so unless there's a second floor or a basement, it's not technically a home. The sign on the door - a sign Rika struggled to read - indicated that the building is property of some "Imperial Academy of Logia" (whatever that is). With a lengthy, presumptuous name like that, this Academy must have enough resources to properly house its students and instructors, right?

Place?

Pensively, Rika hops off of the display case she is seated on, strokes her chin, and scrutinizes her environment. The tatami flooring, flexible as it is, almost buckles under the force of the impact. She seems absolutely oblivious to the unconscious students splayed across the flooring, nearly crushing one underfoot as she steps into the area illuminated by the dojo's elevated windows. Luckily, she notices the boy's head in the nick of time and carefully plants her foot beside it. Her immaculate, sweat-matted fur glistens in the light of the midday sun as she regards Rudy with dazzling emerald eyes.

Perhaps Rudy will deduce from Rika's heavy western accent that she is not a native of Ryke or its adjoining territories. Should this detail escape him, her bizarre attire might tip him off to her origins, for she wears a light blue dress shirt, navy blue slacks, a tactical belt, and combat boots. A badge displaying her picture is clipped to the pocket of her dress shirt. A saber is strapped to her left side and an empty leather holster, now devoid of purpose and function, languishes on her right thigh. If Rudy was well-acquainted with military in a past life, he might note that Rika's costume is a peculiar variant of the Army Class B Uniform. Rika appears to have removed all insignia of rank though her reasons for doing so are something of a mystery.

While Rika is husky, with well-defined muscles and a voice to match, she is shapely enough to pass as junoesque. Though soft-spoken, she carries herself like nobility: with equal parts self-confidence and grace. She is surprisingly light on her feet for her size, and aside from her landing, her movement does not disturb the springy tatami flooring as much as one might expect.

As a non-native Common speaker, Rika stumbles over Rudy's idioms. Interpreting these idioms correctly is beyond her current capabilities, and a look of confusion crosses her face.

I am not here to clean your toilets, sir, nor can I assist you with your bee infestation. As for the, uh, third item, I'm not in that line of work, and I - I shouldn't have to explain that to you people!

Rudy's entry may have caught her off-guard, but his vile insinuation that she is a streetwalker reignites the teeth-gnashing indignation she just worked through! Rika frowns at Rudy in growing displeasure.

If my [in English] cyberware [end English] wasn't malfunctioning, I'd drag you into the 22nd century! As it stands, sir, I demand satisfaction under your system of outdated, highly romanticized customs! A duel, sir! I demand a duel! A duel to first blood with, I guess, these training weapons so we can't claim our equipment disadvantages us! I shall restore the honor you and Spanky besmirched!

That is the way this works, right? The knightly tales she read in her youth weren't all that specific about dueling protocols and other such formalities.
 
Rudolph scoffed at her first statement about his smoking, "Listen here lady, since I to place I've had things trying to kill me left and right. This whole fucking world worse than for my health than tobacco. My ravioli be damned, I plan to keep what small means of stress relief I can before some toothy dream monster or some shit rips me in half."



Oh Rudolph recognized the accent alright. An accent he was much more familiar to, compared to the mad men of this world. Come to think of it... he could understand her just fine. It made him pause for a moment to realize what he was saying. He was speaking... no. Nope. None of that. None of that. His brain was already hurting enough as is trying to understand all of this worlds weirdness that he mist assuredly did not have enough brain power to comprehend he was speaking fluently another language without even thinking it. But try as he might, that didn't stop his mind from noticing how jarringly different the word Cyberware was from what he had been speaking.

"Sheer fucking insanity..." he said, cursing this world and all its bizarre doings.


Whatever she was saying made no sense... it was indeed like trying to talk between languages. So he took a deep breath, and spoke again. Talking slowly and deliberately. Forcing himself to speak english. And it was a wierd feeling. Though it was good for a chuckle to hear her try to talk like that.

[In english]
"So you're some furry frickin cyborg, eh? I'll tell you what, if you know of a way to drag me back to Rhode Island, then by all means you can haul me by the scruff of my neck through whatever wormhole you got up your sleeve. At least I ain't the only one stuck is god-forsaken hellhole."

"But you want to fight. Fine then. We can do it rightly. But if I win, you will be cleaning up this mess you made."

"Now let's see..."


Rudolph paused for a moment. Looking her over. He seemed to be staring almost TOO intently on her. But then... something flickered into view between him and her. It was a screen. Like a holographic computer screen.

On it should could clearly see the following.

Federika de Robeval
[Picture of her Face in real time]
Title: [Beast]
Stats:
Strength - D
Precision - F
Intelligence - D
Vitality - E
Speed - F

Character Grade: E

The screen also had tabs on it. With things like "Skills" and "Abilities" and "Possessions". Even "Stats" was its own tab. Her information was his to see.

Rika would be able to see Rudolph flip through each of the tabs. Looking at one thing then another, then with a swipe of his hand, it vanished.

"Hmmph..." he gruffed put loudly, yet it wasn't directed at her. "Yeah. Training weapons. We will definitely need those. The good ones."


Rudolph walked over to the side, where an arsenal of a variety of all sorts of weapons were. Most real, with a couple barrels of wooden ones to the side. However the young man passed all of them to rack that held four silvery orbs. Each the nearly the size of a cantaloupe.

He picked it up, and it seemed almost weightless in his hand. Another small screen appeared over it and he tapped the symbol "E", which the other symbols were F, D, and C.

"We will use these..." he said. He took the bastard sword and its sheath from the sword frog on his belt, and tapped the orb to the pommel of his sword.

Then silvery orb then changed. Blue runes began to manifest on its surface and it transformed. Twisting and warping until it floated in the air replicating the size and shape of his bastard sword, yet the steel was blue tinged and glowed faintly. He grabbed it from the air and it the heft was immediately apparent, having also matched the weapons weight.

"I dont know what they call these... but the instructors use them for their own training. It will mimic the form of whatever weapon it touches. They are enchanted to deliver only non-lethal blows, and will also cast some sort of healing thing on you so that if you get too hard, you'll be able to get back up and back to practice." He explained.


He set his real bastard sword aside, picked up one of the orbs, and tossed it to Frederika. "When the screen comes up, set it to E."

While she did that, he would make his way to the other side of the dojo, where, like the swords, was a variety of armors. And almost thematically, the rack he picked from was also labeled E.

He unbuckled the red brigandine he wore and cast it unceremoniously over one of the racks. And picked out a simple breastplate. Putting it over his head a pulling the straps for a snug fit.

He pointed at same section he took his breastplate from. "And get some armor too. This section, mind you. You are going to need it." Rudolph had to clear his throat at the end. For fricks sake, when did talking english become so hard? Frickin mad frickin world. And its frickin stupid frickin wierd frickin shit.



TheSimianMind TheSimianMind
 
He can speak English? So he isn't a native. That kind of rules out him throwing in with the Eastern Empire. Some good news for a change - chased by a shot of confusion.

Rhode Island?

Without reservation, Rika gawks at Rudy in wide-eyed wonder. Slack-jawed and immobile, she attempts to make sense of his declaration. Does he jest? He couldn't really be from Earth, could he? No, he couldn't possibly...

Rudy's humorless delivery cues Rika in on the bleak truth of his situation. In acknowledgement of his loss, if not commiseration, her brow furrows. She bites her lip and, breaking one of the cardinal rules of combat, averts her eyes from her opponent.

Earth isn't... People haven't... Ah.

Rika's manner succeeds where words fail her. She's trying to choose her language carefully. A hint, no more than a hint, of pity has bled into and thus diluted the wholehearted umbrage that spilled out of her not a moment ago. She rubs the back of her head with one of her massive mitts. This isn't her strong suit. Never has been. Never will be. Still, she owes it to Rudy to rip off the bandaid. That's the least painful way of doing this, right?

Earth hasn't been habitable for nearly a century, especially not for a Pure like you. You lot are, well, more - how do I put this gently - vulnerable to the viral contaminants and radiation than I am. You'd either die from direct damage to your cells or mutate. Even scavs avoid Earth where I'm from.

When I'm from...


Now, Rika's gaze returns to Rudy or rather the strange screen that floated before him. Is that an aug? Looks like a holographic interface equipped with a sophisticated hard light controller with integrated haptics. It isn't something people would emit from their bare skin without a replacing their forearms with chrome.

Honestly, I feel kind of bad about fighting you. If I don't, I'll lose rep with respectable society.

Honor, what a laugh! Rika directs her attention to the might morphin' silvery balls. She snatches one turns it over in her hands, and follows Rudy's instructions. Lacking any other weapons, Rika taps the ball against the silvery ball, producing a Grade E Training Sword to match Rudy's.

Is it the same with scholars? I've been performing manual labor for very little money, so I wouldn't know. All I know is honor is like currency here so I have to chuck your, uh, underling into the river headfirst.

It is a confusing, formalized system. Nontaxable, though. That's a benefit. But, wait, there's exceedingly little chivalry here. Isn't that another cherished medieval thing?

When Rudy dons his breastplate, Rika attempts to follow suit. It's difficult finding a set that fits. When Rika finds one that looks like it might fit, she attempts to slide it over her head like a t-shirt.

Anyway, I guess we should decide if we're banning certain hits. Would be pretty bad if I - c'mon - strike you in the -
...
Can you give me a hand here? I think I'm stuck. Please? Pretty please?
 
.
Amaya Grainger

Amaya stared curiously at the building before her. The Falling Leaves Dojo was the name of the establishment. Or at the very least, that's how it was called by the residents that happened to live near it. While she did note that the people she had asked responded rather negatively and awfully acrimoniously regarding the dojo, she didn't think it could truly be that bad. While there was a crumb of truth to every tale told, that didn't mean such tales didn't have the potential to be exaggerated by those who shared them.

Especially in the case of something that was relatively notorious around its locality. Judging a certain situation for herself before acknowledging the opinions of the majority as genuine or not, had always been what she'd done.

She pushed the door to the dojo open, nearly rearing back sharply upon being viscerally assaulted by the strong aroma of tobacco emitting from inside. Well, that was certainly.. something. Smoking was not an activity she personally partook in, which was not a surprise as she religiously advocated against the use of it, but never would she shame others for engaging in it. Anyways, it's not like she could even stop them from doing so, a fool's endeavor that would be to attempt as much.

While shutting the door behind her in a gentle enough manner that it wouldn't creak or somehow nosily announce her arrival, there was a distinct faint hope in her that no one would notice her sudden appearance nor care enough to call it out. Bringing attention to herself wasn't exactly an ideal notion. Well, social interaction in general was most daunting to her. After all, so much energy and time went into a single conversation.

She wasn't a recluse. However, it was just that she felt as if her time could be better spent elsewhere on more worthwhile things instead of being used to conversate with people who could probably care less about her.

Though, she did make sure to smile with as much warmth as possible to the several members(?) she caught the eyes of as she headed deeper into the dojo, where most of the main action seemed to be taking place. Most of them wore the Academy uniform and thus her interest became highlighted even further. That was one of the main reasons why she came here today. Ever since waking up in this unknown world and strange yet familiar body that shared her name, all she wanted to do was study. Peculiar? That might appear so to others who didn't understand the circumstances she found herself in.

Her previous life had been a tragically short one. The various dreams and aspirations that she sought to be realized after graduating from college were simultaneously destroyed on the same day that her entire existence was brought to a screeching halt. A slow descent into the cold embrace of death's arms was something nobody wanted to believe was going to happen to them.

Perhaps in that regard, she was unbelievably unlucky. Being able to live once more. Were others granted such a chance as well? And if they were, was it a merit-based system? No matter what, she didn't just believe that reincarnation, transmigration, or whatever you wanted to call it, happened to just everyone that died. Cause and reason. Everything occurred for a reason. Or at the very least, that's what she adhered to.

It was after a few short moments of walking that she finally reached the central room of the dojo. It was there that she saw two people, one man, and a woman. Both of different races, the former being a beastkin and the latter simply a regular human. That had also been quite a shock while trying to get adjusted to this new world. "Oh! Excuse me, I hope I am not interrupting anything." Well granted, this was a public space and there were actually other people milling about, but they seemed to be preparing to fight each other.

Now if she could find somewhere to sit, that'd be great..


D. Rex D. Rex , TheSimianMind TheSimianMind

Code by Serobliss
 
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Rudolph, despite his propensity to fly off the handle, did at least take bad news very well. Or, some bad news. Well, bad news that wasn't due to the incompetence of others and could have been prevented if someone wasn't being an idiot. Though to be fair, with all the craziness that had happened to him so far, he only had two options. Take things in stride, or have his mind irrevocably shattered and become a vegetable. And he didn't particularly like vegetables...

He also didn't respond right away. Taking a moment to process the news. People from other worlds wasn't news to him. He's been hearing that it's apparently a thing. Like this world was some interdimensional vacuum cleaner. Sucking up any scrap of trash it could. He had first figured it was only from earth. Then quickly learned that wasn't the case. Apparently could come from anywhere. And with this lady... apparently from any period in time. He darn well knew he hadn't been here for a century.

What she was saying though, he could definitely pick up the discomfort of her attempt to convey the news. He wasnt sad because of the news, but he did feel a pang of sympathy for the way she felt about it.

"Well... so you're saying Earth was turned into an apocalyptic wasteland. Hmmph... that is certainly not ideal, to put it lightly. Huh..."

He paused, how was one supposed to feel when you heard that that everything you ever knew was to be destroyed in your lifetime. And through whatever circumstance of fate... you avoided it. How should you feel upon news that everyone you had ever seen would be wiped out in a world wide cataclysm without even knowing it was coming? It was sobering, to say the least. An odd feeling he really could not describe. Not despair, not sadness, not even loneliness. But his mind did wander to his foster sibling. The orphans he had grown up with. That he had helped raise. That he had been with when they had all been whisked away into the world of dreams. That he had been so set on protecting until he was pulled away yet again into this world... His thoughts drifted to them. Up until now he had hoped beyond hope that they were safe and had been able to make it home. Now, he would only be able to hope that they were safe, and stayed in the world of dreams and make a life for themselves there.

"Well. Well... welp. I'd guess I'd have to hope that my Earth isn't the same one you came from. Because if anything gives me reason to belive in the multiple universe theory shit, its this world right here. Optimistic wishing perhaps, but I don't really have any choice but to play it by ear, do I?"


He shook his head, to get away the somber thoughts of an ended world that he could do nothing about. Maybe. Maybe he would see. Or maybe not. Contemplation could drive a man mad if he wasn't careful.


What she said next though did give him a chuckle. "Woman, I am happy to inform you that you would be the first. Respectable society my ass... Honor and a buck fifty will get you a cup of coffee. This entire world is beyond fuckin insane, i tell ya. Can't seem to walk ten feet without some madman, cannibal, or monster trying to tear your face off. Anecdotal perhaps, but hot damn, if honor could pay my tab then I'd have a sure fire way to make sure I have a warm meal every night." He scoffed.

"But fuck if I know how the economy works here.Or who makes what. I am handed money things, I hand those money things away, then to convince myself that they aren't trying to rip me off. I can tell you that there seems to be a bunch of money in adventuring and monster hunting, but thats a good way to get killed. I'm guessing the staff at this academy make good money. They certainly act like they can afford to be asses to every student looking to enter."

He looked at the cringing 'underlings in the floor with a derisive sniff. "Yeah, well people do be dicks in any world, it seems. But I suppose that by honor, you might be right in a sense. Whatever this world has going on, it seems to tag you with shit. And they have these all-seeing crystal eye balls that can see them. Can tell if you're a monster or criminal or whatnot. You can see them too with this Appraisal thing."


Once more, he paused and concentrated before that holographic looking screen popped up in front of him again.

This time it showed him, his name and picture, just like it had hers.

Rudolph Wright
[Picture of his Face in real time]
Title: [Human], [Dauntless Compeer], [Gladiator], [Ryken Academy Student]
Stats:
Strength - ?
Precision - ?
Intelligence - ?
Vitality - ?
Speed - ?

Character Grade: ?

And then as before it shown several tabs to flip through. He didn't flip through them, though.

"You probably won't be able to see much of mine. But apparently they are all B's. Which they tell me is pretty good. But those things by the title thing is apparently something this world judges. Beats me how it works. I'm certainly no frigging gladiator. And I certainly have no idea why I got straight B's. But I promise you I wasn't nothing special before coming here." With an annoyed grunt he waved his hand and the screen disappeared. He wasted too much time staring at that screen trying to make sense of it and his progress was minimal at best.

"So at the very least, don't feel bad about fighting me. I can take it." He said, before giving a snort at her suggestion. "On behalf of men everywhere, I sincerely and truly appreciate your consideration of not striking below the belt. While I would much enjoy you to not give me full strength smack in the giblets, I don't want you going easy on me on my account. I won't learn how to survive this world if I learn to fight people going easy on me. Nobody else in this world will be inclined to do so." He said, and gave a nod. He did appreciate the sentiment though. Yet he was more concerned with hurting her too badly.


"Ah, yes. The armor... yes. Well let's see..." he quickly hurried over to get her unstuck. He was just talking about it and he had already forgotten that she was apparently new to this world too. He had apparently forgotten all the difficulty he had in trying to adjust to all this medieval nonsense.

Armor put on wrong was a little harder to get off than it was to out in the first place. "Hold still, hold still." He said as he unclasped the buckles and opened the armor up, and untangled it from her. Trying very hard not to be too touchy about it. Some of the pieces fell the floor, but he held the main breastplate in his hand.


"Alright. It took me a bit to figure out. But this is how it works. At least with this set. This one has pieces." He held up the chest piece. "The breastplate, and the gorget." The latter he pointed to the piece of armor on the ground.

"You need to put them on separately. Gorget first. If you loosen them enough, you could put them in over your heard. Students are SUPPOSED to loosen the buckles so anyone can pick it up and don it. But these fools got too many bad habits... anyway..."

He set down the chest piece and picked up the smaller piece of armor that looked like a high metal collar. "This is the gorget. It keeps your through and neck protected. Lets you move easily while keeping your neck protected. Keeps someone from shoving a dagger between the plates and into your heart. Here though, it just protects the throat. These training swords won't kill, and they will heal, but it won't keep you from feeling the pain of a broken neck."

There were two buckles on the gorget, one on each side, each positioned to be above the shoulder. Rudolph unbuckled one so that it opened up and he put it around her neck and buckled it up. "Make sure its snug enough not rattle around too much. Buckles up just like a belt. Or whatever the future equivalent of a belt is."


The chest piece had four buckles. Two at the shoulders, two at the waist. He unbuckled one shoulder and one waist and put it on her in much the same fashion. Once buckled, he put a finger between the gorget and breastplate to judge a more proper fit for her. Raising it up just a little so the bottom of the breastplate wouldn't dig into her waist if she needed to bend over.

"We are supposed to wear padding underneath. Keeps the buckles and armor from digging in, while giving a little more protection. Anyway, donning this stuff gets a bit easier once you are used to it."

__________________


While Rudolph was helping Frederika don the armor and talking. He didn't notice the new occupant of the building. The others inside did, some of them Anyway. All were students, no faculty to be found. All young men and women, with the young man helping the beastgirl seeming to be the oldest, and judging from some of the looks he received, probably in charge. Most of them were trying to tug unconscious students from the middle of the fighting area. Apparently there had been a rather vigorous little bout. Who won, was beyond her, but it definitely wasn't those on the floor.

Of the others, they seemed to be milling about, casting disparaging glances at the beast woman. Or the man, it was hard to tell. Some of them had smiled back to her, so that was a good sign.

When she did speak up, however, it was the young man that looked up from his work with the armor that spoke. "Huh? What? Oh, you." He said, having given the armor a final tug on the beastwoman.

"No, you're fine. Not interrupting nothing. Just a friendly match is all. Come on in." ( TheSimianMind TheSimianMind he switched back to common while saying this instead of English)


The young man gestured with his sword to surroundings. "Make yourself at home, pardon the mess. We are working on getting that rectified right now." He said, giving the beast girl a look of mild ire. "How can I help you, girl? Needing some help with something? Wanting to join?" He asked. "Please say yes. I'd give twenty bucks for any half decently mannered peer around here..."


Sure, Rudolph was about to fight, but he would at least TRY to be accommodating to anyone. Just because he was a grump didn't mean he wouldn't at at least try to start out on the right foot. Most of the time. Well... only sometimes... his irritation had mostly subsided at this point.

The "dojo", the training building was a humble lot. Mostly flat, plenty of decorations hanging on the walls. Most being various armor and weaponry, but there were a few odd and random pieces hung up, mostly likely trophies the students brought in.

Fortunate for Eloise, there were a number of wooden benches off tonthe sides, where students could rest or watch.


Unfortunately, they were all taken by bruised students. And unbruised ones.


"OI, get your asses up you heathens. Can't you see we got a guest? Where your frigging manners, give a lady a place to sit." He barked, and pointed at one of the full benches.

One student remained, a pretty little brunette girl with a smug look on her face. "You too Kara!"

"What!? I'm a fucking lady too!" She protested.

"No you're not. If you want me to believe you're a lady then friggin act like one for change. You are as bad as the rest of them." Rudolph snapped.

Kara quickly vacated the bench with a huff.

Rudolph growled his approval, "For fucks sake, I swear this academy hates me. Out of all the frigging places to shove me into, they put me in with a bunch of delinquents." He complained. Well, they weren't about to shape themselves up. Goodness knows if he wasn't the strongest of the lot here, then they would still be growing up to be a bunch of menaces. He could try and prevent that at least.


TheSimianMind TheSimianMind
eloise eloise
 

flK8YGx.png

Alexander Cruz | F0DC82

  • Apart from his work, Alex was only interested in the idea of magic. He was unsure where his odd fixation on the arcane stemmed from. He had no experience when it came to it, but he did enjoy the stories he had heard. It reminded him of the fables he told his daughter at night before she went to bed. Maybe, that was it. Regardless, one day, Alex would love to learn more about it, and if fate would allow him, be able to wield it. However, many of the patrons that frequented the tavern he worked at had opposing opinions. They were of the belief that martial skill reigned supreme, and advocated its practice. Magic was all about flair, they said. It was one's physical capabilities that made the man. Their frivolous words may have been the product of their intoxicated selves, or possibly just tall tales of adventurers who were past their prime. Who was Alex to say? He was merely the man who served them their drinks. Eventually, their persistence bore fruit and on Alex's day off, he decided to head over to the local dojo in hopes of dipping his toes in the martial world.


    The quaint and familiar architecture of the dojo was quite pleasing to the eyes. It reminded Alex of their trip to Japan two years after his wedding, when his daughter was born. It was a memory he would always cherish. The scent that welcomed him, on the other hand, was...well, it wasn't to his liking. But as an outsider who merely came to visit, he had no choice but to tolerate it as he entered.

    "Good day." Alex paused briefly to cough. Before he could talk, he had realized that he actually had not thought of what to do next. Alex wasn't a fighter nor did he have skills to give him the confidence to try. "May I ask for whoever is in charge here?" Alex awkwardly smiled as he scratched the side of his head. This was the first time he had entered such an establishment. He was not sure how things were done. "My name is Alex Cruz. And I would like to observe a few exhibition matches if there were any." He politely bowed, believing that this was the appropriate etiquette given the situation he was in.

    He was told that the facility was affiliated with the Ryken Academy. Although he came to witness fighters display their physical prowess, Alex hoped that he would meet someone who could tell him more about the academy, and the lore their libraries kept regarding the arcane.






 
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Rika imagines how silly she must look with this piece of armor stuck on her head. Her ears poke out of the hole she endeavored to squeeze her head through as she stands still, awaiting desperately-needed assistance. She can’t see much of anything, but she is faintly aware of the arrival of two newcomers. Exhibiting almost feline behavior, her ears perk up and orient themselves toward Amaya and Alexander.

I think there are - OW! Please mind the ears!

Unfortunately, one of the armor’s fasteners has caught a clump of Rika’s fur, though Rudy deftly disentangles it and strips her of the armor. Immediately after she is free, Rika raises her mitts to her ears and runs her fingers along them. She breathes a sigh of relief; everything is still there. That said, if given the choice between losing a chunk of one of her ears or being encased in a metal prison for all eternity, she’d rather lose part of an ear.

You might not, um, be from the same timeline as I am. There’s an easy test, though, if your parents read to you when you were a child. Berenstein Bears or Berenstain Bears?

Oh, right. She probably shouldn’t mention that book. Some special interest groups have branded its depiction of bear folk exceedingly racist. She holds her hands out in front of her.

I hope I didn’t offend you! I sometimes forget that those books are objectionable now. Like that old footage of the County Bear Jamboree and all those ads for Kharmin tissue paper.

Wait, if she wants to deescalate, why is she naming other racist icons of yore? Next, she’ll say, “Silly rabbit, Wrix are for kids!” or “They’re sssufficient!” and then she’ll be destroyed! Curse her antiquarian avocation! Does she really want a bunch of mouse-people denouncing her at a board meeting for “promoting the gratuitous masochism and disunity that are recurring themes in the Tom and Jerry Show” in the break room again?

I - uh - just -

Quick! Change the subject before anyone can respond!

That’saneathologram. Isyourarmrobotic?

No, it’s obviously not robotic. Synthetic skin isn’t that realistic, and there’s be little point stretching real skin over something so modular.

Rika doesn’t ask about how this “Appraisal” thing assigns grades to people. She simply dithers while Rudy suits her up. She isn’t sure how she’d manage to do this on her own. Donning plate armor is a lot more difficult than sliding ballistic plates into pocket of stepping into a fully-enclosed, hermetically-sealed exo-suit with an inbuilt trauma suite, ablative shielding, and virtual intelligence with red-blue force tagging capabilities.

Huh. This isn’t that heavy. Doesn’t look like it’d stop a bullet, though.

Rika knocks on her breastplate, but her thoughts are elsewhere. She turns to the newcomers and thinks aloud.

Are you Seconds? If honor isn’t a thing here, then dueling etiquette…

The gears in Rika’s noggin are spinning, albeit in the wrong direction.

I need to write a letter formally challenging you to a duel, right? And my Second must deliver it? So…

Which one of you is my Second? I know you’re one of the Seconds or a judge or something because you’re here to observe, but both of you look a little, um - don’t take this the wrong way, please - scholarly? That’s a more tactful word than bookish, right?



Ah, shoot - I didn’t mean -


Great, she might’ve insulted them. She just meant that they look like dainty creatures, not hirsute, muscle-bound goliaths! They look respectable with clean clothes free of unsightly creases and everything! There’s only one recourse…

Fine! I’ll duel you two too! And then I’m gonna throw Spanky into the river!


It’s the go-to medieval solution!
 

There had been quite a brawl before Amaya's arrival, as clearly evidenced by the unconscious bodies of students being towed out of the arena by their fellow peers. With a brief wince at the rather pitiful sight, she hoped they were alright. Not everyone was built to fight, no matter how hard one attempted to train or hone their skills. There were just some things that people weren't adept at, a fact that saw many varied reactions. It would seem that no matter how different humans became or were, there would always remain something consistent among them all. Rejection of something deemed unacceptable, for instance.

It was the man that was helping the beastwoman with fitting into armor who responded to her inquiry first and she brightened visibly at his reply. So she hadn't interrupted anything! That was great. She would hate to have been some terrible nuisance who cluelessly blundered into a place where she had no business being in the first place. "Thank you, sir," Her head inclined, dipping in a manner of relieved acknowledgment. "I am afraid my answer to that will only serve to disappoint you. I've.. heard about this dojo through mostly unreliable sources and wished to observe its ongoings for myself." Dueling nor brawling with another person was simply not in her interest at all. Combine that with the fact her physicality was seriously questionable? It was obvious why she preferred brains over brawns.

Apparently, there was seating, Amaya realized that awfully late as her glance flicked over to the side and fell on the plethora of wooden benches shuttled away from the main space of the arena. Why hadn't she seen that before? Regrettably for her, however, said benches were currently all occupied. Though in a sudden twist, her dismay at not having come at an earlier time dissipated just as swiftly as it had appeared after seeing the state of the majority of those that were seated. It was apparent, to her at least, that they needed those seats far more than she did. With that thought, she was completely alright about having to stand.

Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like her unspoken views were shared. Genuinely and utterly surprised, she could watch only as the man, whose name she still wasn't aware of, vulgarly ordered for one of the full benches to make room for her. It was that she rose to protest against such a decision, an eye trained carefully on the exchange between him and the conventionally attractive brunette girl called Kara. "Sir- I appreciate the effort but there is no need! I am perfectly fine standing.." She started off strong, though quietened slightly in the face of his complaints.

It does catch her somewhat off guard upon being asked if she was a Second by the beastwoman. A Second? It takes her a mere moment to understand what that means, eyes flickering to and from as realization fills her. "Oh! No, no I-" She hurried to resolve the sudden misunderstanding, however, that option was quickly taken away by the woman's next words, which were seemingly offensive, and the whole situation exploded from there. Before she even knew it, she was being challenged to a duel!

Mouth gaped yet no sound came out of it, at that moment Amaya knew her voice had failed her, shock overpowering any attempt at doing so. How could she not be stupefied in regard to this? A duel? An actual live duel? She'd be instantly defeated! Thus, desperate eyes found the man's own, imploring him to help her de-escalate this situation.

D. Rex D. Rex
TheSimianMind TheSimianMind


Code by Serobliss
 
Isekai Hell RP Grade

D. Rex D. Rex TheSimianMind TheSimianMind Speed Speed eloise eloise

RP never finished. Shouldn't be considered for Lore generally. Too bad about those that bailed. Partial rewards to the one that submitted the grade request. Others can have grades if they ever return to rp'ing with IH.

Aftermath
N/A

Rewards

Amaya - 12 points

Alex - 8 points (Attentive student)
 
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