Deadline
Altered Tundra
Stryder BC
Hey Im Jordan
Ashley1
Pathei Mathos
TruckKun
Kaiidth
Luka’s verbal and nonverbal response to her question told Noah everything she needed to know. It was just as she'd suspected: he was beating himself up for the loss. He tried to soften the blow to his ego by mentioning how if the centurions always beat the legionnaires they'd have to redo the training, but it clearly did little to ease the disappointment the man felt in himself.
“You're right about the training thing,” the redhead nodded solemnly, feeling obligated to elaborate. “But just… Don't forget about one thing, okay? Your value as a Centurion and a soldier isn't determined by the outcome of some stupid sparring matches in front of the entirety of New Rome. Your value is determined by your integrity, your character, your bravery-- all of which you got in spades-- and everything you know you can offer your people. Think about it: if my contributions to the Legion were solely determined by my combat abilities and not my smithing, we'd be so royally fucked,” she said with a chuckle, thinking of the ass whopping she had received from Gigi earlier.
”And you? Russo had to have been…interesting.”
“Oh, she totally beat my ass,” Noah quickly responded nonchalantly, wincing at the lingering shadow pains of every blow she'd received from the drop dead gorgeous, yet just as dangerous daughter of Pluto. “I blame Ashton for how aggressive Gigi came at me, though. She and I are actually really good friends outside the arena. But I feel like if he hadn't forfeited the match against her, she probably wouldn't have had all that pent-up anger ready to let loose on me. You know, the other daughter of Vulcan? I bet she was thinking of that smug face of his every time she swung at me,” the girl chuckled, thinking that her mind would be in the same direction had the roles been reversed.
Luka snorted. It sounded like Russo, being frustrated at a forfeit, though the idea of volunteering for the arena only to then do that was strange to say that least. It didn’t sound like an altogether good plan, unless they’d misunderstood the whole idea of it, but then again they should’ve perhaps talked to the organizers or someone instead of forfeiting out on the field, as a surprise to the others. Had Ashton been hurt…? No, then Noah wouldn’t blame them. Luka was almost certain of that. No, no, it’d been a statement, had to be. Nonetheless, the Centurion snorted, shaking his head a little with that ghost of a smile playing about his lips at the whole of it. ”Maybe so, maybe so. But then, your face can be so smug too. Are you sure she wasn’t just looking at you?”
Noah scoffed and lightly smacked Luka's arm, making sure to get the bit of it not covered by armor so as not to give any additional injuries to herself. “My face is not smug,” she debated playfully, a smile of her own on her lips. “Okay: maybe when I end up being right about something or when I get praised on a project I worked hard on, but not all the time. Though, when I think about it, I'd rather be called smug than the poster child for the word ‘stoic’,” she poked back, knowing Luka wouldn't take her seriously. This had been their way of banter for years now, and by this point they both knew to dish it out and take it back.
”Can’t half do anything, you know,” replied Luka, leaning into the light smack just a little. Looking at it from any other angle, he figured it probably looked more akin to a swaying tree over a person than anything else. He had a head over her, after all, and could loom pretty well if they weren’t walking along. A little thought came to mind, one that Luka decided to listen in to, and then act in on. One hand reached up, the armor plates shifting about, to put a hand on the top of her head - a little reminder of that height difference, if any needed to be made. “After all, look what happens when you do. Half the height you could be. See?”
Luka's action and his comment brought out a giggle and a beaming smile from Noah. “Yeah, because not everybody's genes have half-giant in them,” she teased back immediately, sliding away the hand of his from the top of her head with her own but deliberately choosing to not let go of it. She loved it when her friend was playful like this– when he let his guard down and allowed himself to just be: with no second thoughts, responsibilities or expectations consuming him. They always had a lot of fun together when he did, and they were moments she cherished immensely. “That or I didn't drink enough milk as a child like my parents wanted me to. Shame on me, I guess.”
“I think it was the milk.” Luka paused in the train of jokes and relaxings, the ease of it. It was good, yeah, and there was something to be said for it being the little window into what life could be outside the Legion: outside of the trainings and the commands and the idea that someone could very well die; outside of the uniform and armor and weapons. But then…would the little jokes, the little bits of happiness, fill that job, that rigor, that training, that ray of sunshine from the triumph? Luka wished he could say yes, but then he knew that was a lie. He’d tried it before. For all the joys that had been had then, there was something wrong with the Centurion. He knew it, because even though he could work metal, even though he could make a tool, a blade, a fixture, there was so much less joy in that creation than anything else he had done in the Legion. The new train of thought dimmed that little smile, that little crease of worry growing on his brow.
Every damned time. He wanted to go back to the conversation, to go back to that…the jokes and the smiles and the little gestures. To get back into that mindset. There was that deep breath, half an inhale before a too-long sigh, as he looked about. “But then, you wouldn’t need me to help you with the top shelf.” Luka’s tone was different though, markedly different, distant and he knew Noah could tell. She knew him too long and too well for that. And yet, he couldn’t quite find the words to help dissuade her from that, from the question, from the wonder. The Centurion’s mouth hung open for a moment as he tried to find those words, before closing, looking about at the others, at the revelry, at the laughter while they walked through to get to the fields.
The shift in the energy around them was instantaneous; the temperature abruptly dropping a few degrees. Noah instinctively let go of Luka's hand, trying to hide the disappointment she was sure was plastered all over her face while mentally cursing herself. It was always like this. Every time she let her hopes up and thought she'd finally cracked the code, the son of Hercules pulled away into that thick shell he'd built to keep himself safe. It's not like she didn't understand his reasons. They had discussed them at length many times before during his apprenticeship sessions. It was the reason why things between them hadn't gone any further than the sparse-but-heated encounters they'd had throughout the years in the privacy of Noah's cabin, even when it was obvious that there were genuine feelings between them. Still, in her ignorance or naive optimism, Noah hoped that the day would come in which Luka would allow himself to be vulnerable enough to trust her with his heart like she wanted to do with hers. In the meantime, she would continue to offer her unconditional friendship to the man.
The daughter of Vulcan was silent for a minute, lips pressed together as she thought of how to proceed next. In the end, she opted to keep using the same approach as before: humor and teasing. “Sooooo… you plan on wearing that armor the rest of the day to show off or something, or are you swapping it for something a little more comfortable for a change?” Even if Luka remained guarded, the redhead still enjoyed the satisfaction of bringing even the faintest ghost of a smile to his lips.
Another long exhale, the slow shake of the head, that little smile again. Plan on wearing the armor…it was a good little joke, one that poked just enough, and the same with that other phrase. It made him remember the brief little sparks, the brief little moments, even if he hadn’t been wearing any armor those days. That little chuckle followed, too, along with the smile. “Maybe, if you keep on attacking me. I’ll need it.” One hand reached up to feign injury at his arm, where she’d struck.
A little nagging question began, though, on what she’d said before. “You know, though…why did Ashton withdraw?”
Noah shrugged her shoulders, a small frown settling between her brows. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t talked to him all day. I went looking for you as soon as the match was over and I got checked up at the medical tent.” The young woman felt a trickle of guilt start to creep up on her at both her initial reaction to her brother’s actions and her failure to go straight to checking up on him as soon as her match was over. This was the first time that she had stopped to really think about and consider that Ashton might have a valid reason for having forfeited a competition that had been his idea to join in the first place. And instead of reaching out to her literal brother, she had gone straight to chasing after an unrequited crush. Noah wanted to punch herself. How stupid and selfish could she be?
Well, shit. She’d gone to look for him, worried, instead of looking into the thing that had happened there, that had pissed off Russo. Luka inhaled through the corner of his mouth at the thought, the idea that…well, that Noah just ran-off to go find him instead of figuring out her half-brother. He didn’t know Ashton, not well at least, but had heard things here and there from other people. They said he was confident, sometimes arrogant, that he preferred small groups to the crowds, that he could be distant to the Legion. All sorts of little things that put together a picture of someone who really wouldn’t have made the sort of action as withdrawing suddenly in the arena. The fact that Noah couldn’t take a strong guess at what it was…that only helped to prove that point. “I’m sure he had a reason.” A thought occurred to him at that moment. “You want to go find him? See what’s the matter? I’m sure they won’t miss me at the reenactment.”
Noah's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope that spread across her thin face. In times like these, she was grateful to have friends like Luka that helped her keep an open mind to look at things in different ways while also keeping her focused on the things that mattered. “This is why I keep you around,” she teased the man, linking her arm to his.
With one last playful wink and a cheeky smile, Noah half-dragged, half-led Luka in search for her brother. They walked around while visually scanning and searching the periphery of the colosseum until they finally spotted the son of Vulcan leaning against a marble pillar in a quiet corner out of immediate sight. To his sister's confusion, Ashton didn't show any signs of feeling haunted or perturbed by anything, but was actually looking quite… Content? Relaxed? Chill? Normal?!?!
What the heck? Why did he forfeit the damn match then?
“Hi Ashie,” Noah greeted her brother as she cautiously approached him with Luka remaining a few steps behind, in an almost identical fashion to the way she had done so with her friend earlier. “Is everything okay with you? You forfeited the match earlier, and that's, like, completely out of character for you.”
“You're right about the training thing,” the redhead nodded solemnly, feeling obligated to elaborate. “But just… Don't forget about one thing, okay? Your value as a Centurion and a soldier isn't determined by the outcome of some stupid sparring matches in front of the entirety of New Rome. Your value is determined by your integrity, your character, your bravery-- all of which you got in spades-- and everything you know you can offer your people. Think about it: if my contributions to the Legion were solely determined by my combat abilities and not my smithing, we'd be so royally fucked,” she said with a chuckle, thinking of the ass whopping she had received from Gigi earlier.
”And you? Russo had to have been…interesting.”
“Oh, she totally beat my ass,” Noah quickly responded nonchalantly, wincing at the lingering shadow pains of every blow she'd received from the drop dead gorgeous, yet just as dangerous daughter of Pluto. “I blame Ashton for how aggressive Gigi came at me, though. She and I are actually really good friends outside the arena. But I feel like if he hadn't forfeited the match against her, she probably wouldn't have had all that pent-up anger ready to let loose on me. You know, the other daughter of Vulcan? I bet she was thinking of that smug face of his every time she swung at me,” the girl chuckled, thinking that her mind would be in the same direction had the roles been reversed.
Luka snorted. It sounded like Russo, being frustrated at a forfeit, though the idea of volunteering for the arena only to then do that was strange to say that least. It didn’t sound like an altogether good plan, unless they’d misunderstood the whole idea of it, but then again they should’ve perhaps talked to the organizers or someone instead of forfeiting out on the field, as a surprise to the others. Had Ashton been hurt…? No, then Noah wouldn’t blame them. Luka was almost certain of that. No, no, it’d been a statement, had to be. Nonetheless, the Centurion snorted, shaking his head a little with that ghost of a smile playing about his lips at the whole of it. ”Maybe so, maybe so. But then, your face can be so smug too. Are you sure she wasn’t just looking at you?”
Noah scoffed and lightly smacked Luka's arm, making sure to get the bit of it not covered by armor so as not to give any additional injuries to herself. “My face is not smug,” she debated playfully, a smile of her own on her lips. “Okay: maybe when I end up being right about something or when I get praised on a project I worked hard on, but not all the time. Though, when I think about it, I'd rather be called smug than the poster child for the word ‘stoic’,” she poked back, knowing Luka wouldn't take her seriously. This had been their way of banter for years now, and by this point they both knew to dish it out and take it back.
”Can’t half do anything, you know,” replied Luka, leaning into the light smack just a little. Looking at it from any other angle, he figured it probably looked more akin to a swaying tree over a person than anything else. He had a head over her, after all, and could loom pretty well if they weren’t walking along. A little thought came to mind, one that Luka decided to listen in to, and then act in on. One hand reached up, the armor plates shifting about, to put a hand on the top of her head - a little reminder of that height difference, if any needed to be made. “After all, look what happens when you do. Half the height you could be. See?”
Luka's action and his comment brought out a giggle and a beaming smile from Noah. “Yeah, because not everybody's genes have half-giant in them,” she teased back immediately, sliding away the hand of his from the top of her head with her own but deliberately choosing to not let go of it. She loved it when her friend was playful like this– when he let his guard down and allowed himself to just be: with no second thoughts, responsibilities or expectations consuming him. They always had a lot of fun together when he did, and they were moments she cherished immensely. “That or I didn't drink enough milk as a child like my parents wanted me to. Shame on me, I guess.”
“I think it was the milk.” Luka paused in the train of jokes and relaxings, the ease of it. It was good, yeah, and there was something to be said for it being the little window into what life could be outside the Legion: outside of the trainings and the commands and the idea that someone could very well die; outside of the uniform and armor and weapons. But then…would the little jokes, the little bits of happiness, fill that job, that rigor, that training, that ray of sunshine from the triumph? Luka wished he could say yes, but then he knew that was a lie. He’d tried it before. For all the joys that had been had then, there was something wrong with the Centurion. He knew it, because even though he could work metal, even though he could make a tool, a blade, a fixture, there was so much less joy in that creation than anything else he had done in the Legion. The new train of thought dimmed that little smile, that little crease of worry growing on his brow.
Every damned time. He wanted to go back to the conversation, to go back to that…the jokes and the smiles and the little gestures. To get back into that mindset. There was that deep breath, half an inhale before a too-long sigh, as he looked about. “But then, you wouldn’t need me to help you with the top shelf.” Luka’s tone was different though, markedly different, distant and he knew Noah could tell. She knew him too long and too well for that. And yet, he couldn’t quite find the words to help dissuade her from that, from the question, from the wonder. The Centurion’s mouth hung open for a moment as he tried to find those words, before closing, looking about at the others, at the revelry, at the laughter while they walked through to get to the fields.
The shift in the energy around them was instantaneous; the temperature abruptly dropping a few degrees. Noah instinctively let go of Luka's hand, trying to hide the disappointment she was sure was plastered all over her face while mentally cursing herself. It was always like this. Every time she let her hopes up and thought she'd finally cracked the code, the son of Hercules pulled away into that thick shell he'd built to keep himself safe. It's not like she didn't understand his reasons. They had discussed them at length many times before during his apprenticeship sessions. It was the reason why things between them hadn't gone any further than the sparse-but-heated encounters they'd had throughout the years in the privacy of Noah's cabin, even when it was obvious that there were genuine feelings between them. Still, in her ignorance or naive optimism, Noah hoped that the day would come in which Luka would allow himself to be vulnerable enough to trust her with his heart like she wanted to do with hers. In the meantime, she would continue to offer her unconditional friendship to the man.
The daughter of Vulcan was silent for a minute, lips pressed together as she thought of how to proceed next. In the end, she opted to keep using the same approach as before: humor and teasing. “Sooooo… you plan on wearing that armor the rest of the day to show off or something, or are you swapping it for something a little more comfortable for a change?” Even if Luka remained guarded, the redhead still enjoyed the satisfaction of bringing even the faintest ghost of a smile to his lips.
Another long exhale, the slow shake of the head, that little smile again. Plan on wearing the armor…it was a good little joke, one that poked just enough, and the same with that other phrase. It made him remember the brief little sparks, the brief little moments, even if he hadn’t been wearing any armor those days. That little chuckle followed, too, along with the smile. “Maybe, if you keep on attacking me. I’ll need it.” One hand reached up to feign injury at his arm, where she’d struck.
A little nagging question began, though, on what she’d said before. “You know, though…why did Ashton withdraw?”
Noah shrugged her shoulders, a small frown settling between her brows. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t talked to him all day. I went looking for you as soon as the match was over and I got checked up at the medical tent.” The young woman felt a trickle of guilt start to creep up on her at both her initial reaction to her brother’s actions and her failure to go straight to checking up on him as soon as her match was over. This was the first time that she had stopped to really think about and consider that Ashton might have a valid reason for having forfeited a competition that had been his idea to join in the first place. And instead of reaching out to her literal brother, she had gone straight to chasing after an unrequited crush. Noah wanted to punch herself. How stupid and selfish could she be?
Well, shit. She’d gone to look for him, worried, instead of looking into the thing that had happened there, that had pissed off Russo. Luka inhaled through the corner of his mouth at the thought, the idea that…well, that Noah just ran-off to go find him instead of figuring out her half-brother. He didn’t know Ashton, not well at least, but had heard things here and there from other people. They said he was confident, sometimes arrogant, that he preferred small groups to the crowds, that he could be distant to the Legion. All sorts of little things that put together a picture of someone who really wouldn’t have made the sort of action as withdrawing suddenly in the arena. The fact that Noah couldn’t take a strong guess at what it was…that only helped to prove that point. “I’m sure he had a reason.” A thought occurred to him at that moment. “You want to go find him? See what’s the matter? I’m sure they won’t miss me at the reenactment.”
Noah's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope that spread across her thin face. In times like these, she was grateful to have friends like Luka that helped her keep an open mind to look at things in different ways while also keeping her focused on the things that mattered. “This is why I keep you around,” she teased the man, linking her arm to his.
With one last playful wink and a cheeky smile, Noah half-dragged, half-led Luka in search for her brother. They walked around while visually scanning and searching the periphery of the colosseum until they finally spotted the son of Vulcan leaning against a marble pillar in a quiet corner out of immediate sight. To his sister's confusion, Ashton didn't show any signs of feeling haunted or perturbed by anything, but was actually looking quite… Content? Relaxed? Chill? Normal?!?!
What the heck? Why did he forfeit the damn match then?
“Hi Ashie,” Noah greeted her brother as she cautiously approached him with Luka remaining a few steps behind, in an almost identical fashion to the way she had done so with her friend earlier. “Is everything okay with you? You forfeited the match earlier, and that's, like, completely out of character for you.”
