hadriel_logs | Better I'm the Last One Alive, Than A Soul Denied

Who: Yukari and you! (OTA, Will match format)
What: Yukari's adjusting to his missing eye.
Where: Around Hadriel
When: February 14th
Warnings: Mild violence; Mild descriptions of gore.

[A] Training

If Yukari had to admit to anything, it would be that living with an eye-patch has been more troublesome than he thought it would be. Losing his eye due to a poor choice of words and intentions, he's lost some of his depth perception to go with it. Relying on Curufin has been... odd, to say the least. Not that he isn't grateful for the Elf. Yukari's just so independent. Having to rely on anyone else is beyond what he ever expected for him. Or, at the very least, he expected to be old and weary before he would have to rely on someone. He aims to take care of the burden he's being as soon as possible, and take that stress off of Curufin's shoulders. Despite that he's been told he should probably rest until he's had the chance to heal properly.

He finds a wide, open area in the fields before he draws his sword. Already, everything feels off, as if the world had shifted left while he wasn't looking. He gives a light huff before he starts swinging, practicing the basic moves and working his way up. His skill feels clumsy, since he can't witness it from his right side for how wide his sweeps are, or where he's aiming just beyond that peripheral vision. It's fairly frustrating, actually. He pauses after a few more movements, trying to determine to see to his right side more easily. If only he had a mentor who knew how to direct this kind of thing, or an opponent to practice with, he'd actually appreciate it in this circumstance.

[B] The River

After all of that practice, he's settled himself before the water. His sword lays in the grass in front of him as he stares pensively into the water. He knows he won't be able to counteract the new depth perception problems overnight, but it still brings a soft sigh to escape from his lips. His skill in battle is part of who he is. To have to adjust to a new means... It's like having to start back at square on. That will teach him to piss off little girls with a weapons specialty, he supposes.

As someone approaches, he looks over his shoulder, on his right side. The eye patch being the first thing to meet them rather than his gaze. He's still got alot to get used to, and he mentally groans that he has to physically turn himself so he can properly see the person.

"Can I help you?" He asks. His voice may be level, but it hints at his frustration for his shortcomings.

Threaded | Flat

The man approaching is tall and wearing armor that makes him resemble a dragon, particularly the helmet. He knows by this point what had happened with Rydia, and he's... not entirely pleased about it. He's assuming this is the right person, anyway. He'll know for sure in a few moments. At least he doesn't intend to do too much harm, more make a statement and be done with it. An even trade for what he'd done. It's only fair, in Kain's mind.

"We need to talk." He has his weapon already drawn, a long lance that he holds with ease despite how heavy it appears to be.

Prompto had just wanted to scout the place, get a hang of the landmarks and grow familiar with it. It wasn't going to be home, but it didn't need to be something so unknown.

So focused on his camera as he was, following the sound of the river, he didn't realise he was walking into someone who was already there. Which is why he immediately stops at the question, taking a step back.

"S, Sorry," he stumbles for words, fidgeting with his camera in his hands, eyes on the stranger. "I was just exploring. Didn't mean to startle you."

What he does next depends on how the stranger reacts.

It's a peaceful day by Hadriel standards so Pell's walking along the water on his way from the clinic to the garden, his bag slung over his shoulder. He's still trying to come to terms with the mess that his double made of things, to mend ties with the people he cares for that might not trust him now, knowing what he can do. Mess might be too generous a term, really, it's more of a disaster. He sighs, shifting the strap of his bag and walking a bit faster. He'll feel better when he's busy again.

Around the other side of the central bridge, he finds Yukari. The memory isn't his but Pell recognizes him all the same, slowing to a stop beside him. And noticing the patch -- that certainly wasn't there before.

"Yukari, isn't it?"

Near doesn't bother to leave the house often; it's frequently unnecessary when Mello is around to take care of the more mundane needs of daily life. Even so, he's gotten used to venturing out from time to time, a tendency developed in the last place he'd been drawn to against his will.

He has the collar of his oversized coat drawn up as always, covering everything below his nose. It's probably unnecessary. He recognizes that. But when he errs, he prefers it to be on caution's side.

The sights are of course mundane or what passes for it here, until he catches sight of a moderately familiar face. Ah, right. The one who'd tried to goad him further while he'd been under Rage's influence a few months ago. Practicing with his weapon and . . . doing a very poor job of it.

Near has no particular reason to bother him, but the sight interesting enough that he stops to watch for a while, unblinkingly, from his right. It's a test more than anything.

River

B!

river;

Training