For Both Of Your Boys Please! ;;; ""someone They View As A Mentor"" (And Why?)

For Both of your boys please! ;;; ""someone they view as a mentor"" (And why?)

Bryn:

He sits there for a moment, and thinks, and thinks, a look of consternation coming over his face, and then the tension easing with a sigh as his hand rubs over his beard.

"I can't believe I'm going to say the second one, so I'm starting with the first. First mentor was the Captain that led my scouting battalion. My parents and I, we had our differences. My father was a drunk, a firm believer that what he did in life would amount to nothing, so he did nothing. My mother did the best she could, but there is only so much a working woman can provide, especially when her work company was...less than scrupulous. Out of necessity I enlisted, and met that first real mentor, Captain Shay."

Bryn's gaze grew distant, his silvery eyes gleaming as he leaned against the table onto his forearms. "He was a gruff, no nonsense type of leader, and he whipped us all into shape quickly. He literally mentored us into warriors, into fighters, and took a personal interest in us all. For me specifically, he helped me become independent, shed that baggage of the past, and finally become...my own man. No longer the shadow of my father. He gave me a focus, a concentration, and when I showed affinity for scouting and rifles, he personally trained me. Even pushed me up to the rank of Sergeant so I could perform solo missions."

After a moment of retrospection, he groans again, and thunks his head down on the table, his voice muffled by his arms. "My other mentor would be Thancred." He lifted his head and grumbles out, "Despite his complete and utter lack of respect for authority or rank, he did a good job teaching me everything there is to know about spying, and blending into the shadows. His teaching methods were completely unacceptable and landed us in more danger than needed, but he did manage to get me to loosen up a little. I was a bit of a stickler for the rules back then and he taught me how to improvise."

He stares down the-layline-directory, his eyes gleaming, as he growls out, "If you even think of breathing a word of that to Thancred, I will show you exactly what he taught me in terms of interrogation tactics."

Kaleh'a:

"My mom!"

His answer was fast, smooth, and without a single ounce of hesitation, his feet swinging under the table. "She taught me almost everything I know! From archery, to Menphina, to cartography and trade. She wanted me to have a well rounded education, and she taught me so much.

"She also taught me how to be kind. To care and look out for those in need." His voice had softened, his eyes too, as his fingers interlocked in front of him on the table surface. "She taught me to look for the good, to always treat others with respect, and help wherever I can. It's always served me well. Even if I have been burned by it, and certainly had my kindness taken advantage of, I still wouldn't..." he paused, mused for a bit, and then smiled. "Yah I really wouldn't change anything. It is all what made me the man I am today. And I'm proud of that man."

He grinned, and chuckled out, "Oh and she taught me that too, self worth! She's a pretty great mom!"

first impressions matter a collection of meet cutes and meet uglys from yours truly. (add a “swap” to swap the sender/receiver in the prompt (or just do it manually).)

ankle, sender twists their ankle and stumbles forward, coincidentally falling into receiver's arms.

bark, a dog barks loudly, making sender jump and send their phone flying into receiver's face.

chips, sender and receiver both reach for the last bag of chips in the grocery store, their fingers touching by accident.

drink, sender chokes on their drink and ends up spitting it out all over receiver as they walk past.

emergency, in the middle of an awkward blind date, sender pretends to be receiver's friend and helps them get out of the date by faking an emergency.

french, sender pretends they can only speak french to get out of giving a stranger directions. receiver is a witness.

gift, sender is about to get scammed into overpaying for something before receiver steps in to help (and haggle).

hair, sender gets something they're wearing caught in receiver's hair and ends up yanking a chunk of it out when attempting to separate.

ice, sender is ice skating for the first time and skates uncontrollably in receiver's direction.

jail, sender and receiver are both thrown into the same holding cell at a police station.

kid, sender loses a child that they're caring for, only to end up finding them in receiver's company.

lock, sender crashes their ex's wedding, and receiver, a bridesmaid / groomsman, locks them both in the bathroom to prevent sender making a scene.

match, sender and receiver both end up being sat at the same table in a full restaurant.

nauseous, sender is drunk, and while receiver is attempting to help them, ends up throwing up all over receiver's shoes.

oops, sender is carrying a bag full of groceries that ends up breaking. receiver helps them pick their groceries back up.

plug, receiver walks into the bathroom to find sender stuffing tissues up their nose in an attempt to plug up a nosebleed.

quarter, sender doesn't have enough coins for the vending machine, so they stick their hand up the flap and gets their arm stuck just as receiver approaches.

rain, sender and receiver both get stuck under the same awning when seeking shelter from sudden rain.

shh, sender and receiver are both sitting beside each other at the movies. sender keeps whispering to themself every few minutes.

tooth, sender accidentally bites down too hard on their food, resulting in a tooth falling out and skittering across the floor to land at receiver's feet.

undone, the laces on sender's shoes ends up coming undone and they trip and fall, bringing receiver down with them and into the fountain beside them.

vacation, there's a problem with the booking of sender and receiver's hotel rooms and they end up having to share one. thankfully there are two beds.

woods, sender and receiver bump into each other in the woods. one of them is holding a shovel.

x-rated, in a bookstore, sender accidentally drops a few of the erotic books they were planning on purchasing on the floor, which receiver picks up.

yawn, sender, who is dressed down and has not yet slept, bumps into receiver, who is dressed up and just woken up, in line for coffee.

zap, sender calls out to receiver to ask for directions, but as it's late receiver mistakes sender for a creep and tases them.

Both Kaleh'a and the Grand Marshal turned wide eyes to the healer, the venom in her voice subtle, but recognizable as Kaleh'a's tail swayed slowly behind him, a new respect for the blue haired Miqo'te as his warm smile filled his face and he gave her a nod of appreciation, a moment passing before Brookstone chuckled and rubbed his hair in embarrassment. "Perhaps it would do some good to remind theme that one of our best healers hails from the same heritage as one of our best hunters." Kaleh'a's ears flicked in agreement at the compliment, his chest puffing proudly, following the marshal towards the infirmary. All of them grew more serious as Brookstone opened the door, and the smell of death filled the air.

The coppery tang of blood and groans of pain filled the air, and Kaleh'a cast his eyes out over the room, to the cots that carried all the wounded, his smile falling as he quickly unslung his quiver, bow, and set them aside, reaching over to a small table just inside the door and grabbing a thick roll of bandages, herbs, and a few splints, listening to Cyra as he quickly nodded at her words, agreeing without hesitation as he moved into the room. "Got it, I'll let you know any I find that need immediate attention."

He was moving, kneeling beside a warrior with bandages wrapped over their eyes, gently touching his arm and slightly startling him, until Kaleh'a murmured softly, "It's alright, just a medic here. Where does it hurt?"

"L-leg..." Kaleh'a was moving to his legs quickly, pulling back the sheets covering the man, and revealing--

"Oh. Yep, that's a leg." The tibia was sticking out from the ankle, foot angled weirdly, as if twisted, and the archer eying it for a second. The wound surprisingly less bloody than he would have guessed, packed with gauze around the bone, the trained-through-trial-and-error medic slowly removed the gauze and casually said, "Well, I have good news, and bad news. The good news, it's fixable! Bad news, it's going to hurt." He didn't give a warning, suddenly pulling the foot twisting it back, the tibia snapping back into place, and the scream of the soldier as he sat straight up, then limply flopped back against the cot, only to come right back to, turn, and throw up over the side of the bed. "Sorry! Sorry I know, I know it hurts right now..." Kaleh'a was wrapping the wound, with bandages, scooting up towards the man's head and slowly helping him back onto the cot fully, gently pressing an herb to his mouth. "Here, chew, it will help the pain and keep you awake. The bone is reset, and you won't feel too much pain after this. Oh, and you should be up and walking in a few weeks if you take it easy, okay?"

The wounded soldier could only nod, chewing the herb as he leaned back against his pillow, his hand reaching out, blindly, then grabbing Kaleh'a's arm, groaning out, "Thank...you..."

To which the archer just smiled and patted the hand, smiling as he said, "Just doing what I can!"

And then he was on to the next one, after, of course, cleaning up the throw up. He didn't want to leave a mess behind for someone else.

Her sharp ears picked up every word of the Marshal.

She had already stepped past the disgruntled Adder, pausing at the threshold of the doorway when she heard the venom spat at her fellow Keeper. She had never been spoken to like that here. Seeing how they reacted to him because of his chosen profession made her think that it was because of the reputation Keeper archers had.

What if I wasn't a White Mage? Would they have treated me the same?

The thought slammed into her chest like a blade piercing her all the way to the hilt. She had half a mind to tell off the soldier's cruel opinion. The fur on her tail immediately bristled, flicking angrily to the side as she gazed daggers into the man's back. She may not have known Kaleh'a for long, but he had every right to be here as she did. He was no healer, sure, but he had the heart to be one. That was enough for her. Skills could be learned, but one had to have the courage to hold the hand of the dying and give them the hope of life whether they could be saved or not.

In her hesitation, she found that the situation had quickly come to a close. The Grand Marshall himself stepped forward to right the wrongs happening in her presence. Cyra had to bury the anger quickly. Despite his quick action, she felt like it wasn't enough to grant reprieve for her socially wounded companion. Ones' origin of birth should never be cause for discrimination regardless of the reputation others like him may have gained. He was his own person, and they would never get to know his generosity and gentle heart if they didn't give him the opportunity to show them.

Cyra took in slow, deep breaths to try and calm the bubbling anger within her. Her small hand tightened around the staff, knuckles turning white for a moment before she relaxed her grip. She couldn't afford to lose her head to this, not when there were people who needed her. Still, she couldn't help but feel the need to throw in her thoughts on the matter.

"You spoil us, ser." The healer pressed her lips together into a tight smile. "Perhaps there are some among you that need to be reminded that I, too am a Keeper?" The disgust in her tone was subtle.

As much as she disliked touch, or even proximity she gave Kaleh'a a gentle pat on the shoulder, making sure that she touched only fabric. There was no telling what kind of emotions would bleed into him if she had managed to touch skin. He didn't need that mixed in with his own turmoil. She gave him a knowing look, the flick of her ears quite indicative of her displeasure with his treatment.

I can be angry about it later. These people need my help.

With another tandem flick of her long ears, she tucked the emotion away to deal with after the worst had passed. It didn't take long for her to change the target of her focus. The smell had thickened as they grew closer to their destination. Cyra had been used to the smell. This wasn't the first time she had entered a room full of the gravely injured, but she guessed it might have been his.

Hesitation could not be afforded. Knowing that staying on task would be difficult with what laid ahead of them. She needed to give him something to do, no matter how menial it may be. She did recall him say that he had some knowledge for field dressings, maybe she could put that to use in making this easier for the both of them.

"You said you know how to administer field care? I need you to do this for me." Her words came out calm, but with that tense urgency one needed when wielding the power of granting life in their hands.

"Stabilize the ones who can wait five minutes before I see them. Staunch bleeding, set bones, whatever you can do for them...do it. Keep them alive until I can take over." She could hear the cries of pain, she could hear the labored breaths of those with more than just their foot beyond the door to death. Cyra's eyebrows knitted together with the determination to save every single one of them was strong. IT didn't matter how much Aether she used, she would save them.

Send “your heart is racing.” for my muse’s response.

Someone they’re holding a grudge against (both)

Bryn:

His eyes gleam, and he leans forward, a hint of a growl in his face. "If you ever come across a Garlean scientist named Centrus lux Primus, I have words, and a bullet for him."

It takes him a moment to calm, and then turn his head, muttering under his breath, "The experiments he did...that I had to watch... I will never forgive him."

Kaleh'a:

For a long second, he looks genuinely confused, before leaning back and humming thoughtfully, finally admitting, "The Elder Seedseer. It's not a personal grudge but..." His ears stood up, and then laid back, his eyes sad. "She indirectly let Gridania become a place that feared and hated my kind. It wasn't just her but she had the power to stop it. You know?" His blue eyes shine with emotion, before he tilts his head quizzically and smiles wanly. "I just wish things were different in a place I care about deeply."

Kaleh'a was worried. The number of injured as he picked his way through them towards the main building the Twin Adders inhabited was too many. Far too many for a single Blue-Back to have caused. He was almost certain they had specifically said only a few injuries, some serious, others less so, but only a small number. So what had caused all the others?

He was mid-step when he felt her magic bloom behind him, turning in wonder as she concentrated and summoned aether to her staff. The glow of the focus point drew his gaze, and his ears flicked in the wind caused by it, his tail swaying as he felt how the aether reacted, changed, and shifted around them, spiraling in to her and lifting her from the ground. His eyes went wide, unsure if that was normal, his ears up at attention as he watched her float there, and the burst of warm, aether filled air that had his body feeling...invigorated was a sight to behold. His eyes tracked the many different sparkling dots, his smile growing as he watched how they fell, saw and heard how moans of pain and hurt faded into soft sighs of relief, missing her floating back down to the ground, his tail flicking about excitedly as he was reminded, once again, how incredible a White Mage could be.

He turned to her, his blue eyes picking out the exertion on her face, and he nodded in understanding, knowing that such a spell had to have cost a lot of aether, especially since it seemed to be acting over time as well. He quickly hopped up the steps towards the Adders' Nest, stopping before a smartly dressed Marshal, giving them a quick nod and tilting his head towards Cyra as he rapidly explained. "A got the blue-back, and ran across a White Mage while hunting it. She offered to help heal the injured."

He wanted to ask more, but the Marshal hardly let him, quickly waving to Cyra as he spoke rough and quick. "Good, we need as many hands as we can get. Wait out here while I see her to the infirmary."

Kaleh'a looked shocked, his gaze flicking to Cyra and then back to the Marshal, his tail agitatedly swaying behind him, smacking a passing Twin Adder spearman. "Wait here? I was planning on helping her, replacing bandages and--"

"We don't need your kind of help."

Those words had Kaleh'a bristling, his ears laying back, his tail going still, and his boots took a thudding step forward, the long blue-back feather in his quiver drooping back. "Really? I've killed your blue-back, have proof, and am now offering to help your obviously short handed healers, and you throw that in my face?" The Marshal, stubbornly, held his ground, eyes narrowing at the Miqo'te as a hand fell to the blade at his side, right up until a hand landed on his shoulder, and Grand Serpant Marshal Brookstone interjected.

"Now now, we both know we could use the help, and Kaleh'a has more than proven himself now and before." The Grand Marshal's one good eye turned to Kaleh'a, giving him a warm smile. "Forgive my subordinate's...enthusiasm in protecting our weak. He clearly has made a mistake and I will ensure personally he is reprimanded for it."

"But--sir!" The glare the man got shut him up instantly, both from Brookstone and Kaleh'a, the two blondes not giving an inch until the Marshal slunk off, and Kaleh'a let out a little sigh of relief.

"Thanks, sir." He gave the Grand Marshal a wan smile, the mirth never reaching his eyes, as the red and yellow dressed man loosed his own sigh of frustration.

"No, thank you, Kaleh'a. I'd offer more apologies, but we are truly in dire straights. I trust you and your healer are prepared?"

"As ever!" The blonde Miqo'te grinned, and he reached up to touch the feather. "I think the injured will be glad to see this too."

Brookstone laughed, and shook his head in disbelief, but agreed wholeheartedly, while waving the two forward. "Come, I'll personally escort you to the infirmary. That way there won't be anymore misunderstandings."

The Keeper was thankful that she had not spent the day spending her Aether. She very well could have chosen to train the control over her own flow, but the Twelve had made the suggestion that she do something a little more simple. At least, that was the feeling she had at the start of her busy day. She remained quiet through Kaleh'a's questions, analyzing the wounded laid out in the grass outside of the headquarters.

This is more than just a rampaging Blue-back.

She felt her normally round pupils constrict as the thought of a true battle being fought. Gridania and the Black Shroud bordered a nation that provided her with a life full of misery. If there had been a scuffle on the border, she would want to hear of it. However, far more important matters require her attention.

There wasn't time to check them all individually, not with how some had already soaked through their carefully placed bandages. She felt her heart clench in her chest with concern and worry for every life laid bare on the fields.

"I'll join you in a moment." Her hard stare at the bodies laid out in front of them was a good indicator of her intentions. She picked up the pace, nearly joining the blond Keeper in a jog as she trotted up to the center of the field.

Staff in hand, Cyra furrowed her brow as she began channeling her flow of aether into her staff. The point of focus at the top began to glow, and the air began swirling around her. Drawing on both wind and water, the light traveled through her and into her staff. At the height of the concentration, her body lifted from the earth by only a few ilms. And in an instant, the air burst with a warming wind, flecks of aether sparkling as they descended downward from the blanket of magic that covered the area. The spell concluded, and her feet once more touched the ground.

Her efforts granted her a few small beads of sweat as the magic had cost her quite a large portion of her personal well of aether. She took no more than a few seconds to begin getting to work on visually inspecting those laid out on the lawn. Most had relatively superficial injuries, maybe some broken bones, and the worst of them had some relatively deep lacerations. The magic had already begun it's work on them, slowly mending their hurts as they waited to be treated. She had plenty more mana to spare.

In her focus, she continued walking towards the interior of the Twin Adders. She knew they kept their more urgent cases farther in the actual infirmary. No doubt that was where Kaleh'a had been headed, so that's where she too would follow.