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hades: zagreus

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WHO: Shalem and Zagreus
WHERE: ??? Somewhere in the outskirts of Stygia I guess.
WHEN: Just before the event
WHAT: Shalem did promise to share his skills with the shield, and Zagreus is insistent on getting that done immediately.
WARNINGS: The potential for Shalem to turn unhinged.

[shalem eyes the dagger in his hand, which hasn't been pulled from its sheath since he first bought it. he'd prefer it that way-- in fact, he'd prefer not to have it at all, because if he were to let his imagination run wild, he can imagine the blade whispering to him about what he could use it for. he wrenches his eyes from it and drops his hand back to hang at his side. better for zagreus to come with his makeshift shields, and then he can conveniently forget that he loaned the man the blade.

his tail flicks as he spies that familiar face in the distance, and he waves a hand with his newly-bought gloves.]

Hello stranger. I will exchange you one of those shields for this dagger, if you're amenable?

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[shalem raises his shield when zagreus is near. with a flick of his wrist at the very moment that their weapons meet, he summons sparks of indigo and blue, arts to sting this student.

much more mild than the burning sensation he would have applied onto an opponent.]

[They singe through his skin, not on, and his breath hitches as though the sparks are glass sharding through him. Zagreus hisses, draws back with a whirl, feinting around Shalem with the shield still close to his chest, and retreats a few steps before he looks down at himself with a wince.

But he sees no wounds.] That's. How did you do that?!

[shalem has understood since awaking in the shadowlands that his strength is dampened here, and it has bothered him since. how can he protect rosa like this?

though it doesn't bother him now, because he knows his weaker output is barely anything, in the long run. he knows zagreus will not sustain damage without shalem needing to control his output.

he shakes his hand, dispelling the last of the sparks. they're not needed now.]

That is called Arts-- I channeled energy within myself into something visible and tangible. I believe some would call that magic, in their worlds.

[For a moment, his hands feel tingly, as if he absorbs some part of those sparks into him, only to make his skin feel like an ant farm, tiny sensations on his nerve endings making him thrum. He shakes them, looking quizzically. He's felt this before, the blessings, boons that gods have given him, the bursts of energy that the witches in Hades throw his way to stop him from going past once again. Zagreus has very little of that; at least, there's only one thing he can do that's slightly similar, albeit not as great as the power of the people he knows..

He's intrigued, eyes wide, mouth slightly slack in wonder.]

I see. Is this something you learned? Since you call it Arts.

It is... a natural talent I and others from my world hold, and I was trained in my childhood.

[a soft voice, after he had to be silent for a little bit, and think about how he can respond to this new line of questioning without revealing too much.]

But, before you ask, I do not think I can train you in it. [shalem gives him a soft, apologetic smile.] The way I was taught, the way Arts operates in my world?

Passing on my knowledge and experience in that may be exclusive to those from my world. You will have to settle with my shield skills.

That is more than enough; I was merely curious. [He smiles, still impressed. He's used to being surrounded by people more powerful than him—vastly so. Those who will the world around him to change by their volition. Raisers of darkness, breakers of resolve, bringers of death. Beloved all the same, he's never, somehow, felt envious of them and their abilities. Knows they brought more responsibility, even further.

Heavy are the shrouds.] Was it difficult to learn?

Yes. My mentors, those who raised me... they demanded nothing but perfection, so they trained me in the most difficult fields they knew. [and that's all he's comfortable saying about the matter.

it's not even false.]

But I am far more lenient than they, as long as you do learn.

[shalem raises his shield once more.]

Come, we shall practise more counter drills, before I move you on to using only the shield.

It shows. [Achilles, the Best of Greeks, was also a stern teacher, despite his soft-spoken demeanor that was not apparently the case during his time on the surface. The first session they had ended in five seconds—a stab through the heart with that legendary spear when Zag missed a step. He can recognize well-honed and finessed techniques, even if foreign.]

Let's! [He exclaims with a last grin before finally schooling his expression into something more neutral. Focused, driven. The practice isn't easy, but Zagreus is a quick scholar, going through the motions without a complain, if anything, with a question or two and exemplifying with his knowledge that he learned from his mentor.]

Hah… how do you think this session is going? [He finally smiles, panting.] Am I terrible at it?

[throughout the session, shalem has become more and more ruthless, a demanding teacher despite his claims of lenience. faster movement, stronger blows, quicker reflexes, more flexibility.

he's like a master looking for perfection.

in contrast, his movements have become less strained, adrenaline loosening up his muscles like he's just finally warmed up. though it's more that his heart has warmed to the sparring than anything else, the pythia forgetting exactly why he doesn't like to stress himself.]

Ah... you could be better. But you move better than when we began.

[a pause, before he makes a decision-- and a quick pause at that. he's being driven by the need to move, and his shadow is just egging him on, unbeknownst to him.]

I believe it's time to spar. [now he takes his stance once more, ready to fight.]

[There's a titter to Zagreus' lips, the rush of the workout and the excitement of learning something new fresh and running under his skin like the accomplished feeling of waddling through a current.]

Alright! You charge first, then. I want to see what you've got. [He claims cheekily, widening the position of his feet and lowering his guard, making use of his stature to brace himself.]

[the main advantage of being so lithe, lean with long limbs, is that shalem is agile. his heritage may also be a factor, because snakes are so quick to strike from seeming inactive, either to catch prey or to defend themselves.

he thrusts his shield out before him, as if to bash his shield against zagreus like all the times he's moved this way, but instead, he does something new. shalem places his free hand on his forearm, as if bracing it for impact. as if bracing himself for impact.

though the impact will not come, because he stops himself barely a pace before zagreus, peeking above the wooden shield with a wicked grin. then there comes a sound like a firearm being used repeatedly, or steel meeting flint, accompanied by a burst of his arts. shalem fires rapidly, body jerking each time, no wonder he needed to brace himself.

it may be a lot of noise, but perhaps if zagreus is particularly sharp, he may be able to hear soft laughter.]

[Many times he has incurred the wrath of the Olympians. Over silly things, really, usually something along the lines of choosing one over the other, the choice in itself stopping him from going farther in his path. He had felt the pain of Artemis' arrows, the knock of Poseidon's tides against his chest, the heartache of Aphrodite's sorrow, and the serrated edge of Ares' blades on his skin.

This, this feels nothing like it, and Zag can't help but be slightly amazed even as he tries to hold on for as long as he can until he can't and he stumbles back with a groan and falls onto his back.] Ah! Blast!

Ah-- [zagreus falling over has snapped him out of his little bloodthirsty trance, and he finds himself flushing, but with a cold spot in his chest from the shame. he almost let go in a way that could have become dangerous.

he relaxes from his stance, and offers a hand to help his hapless student back up.]

Apologies. I... lost myself for a moment.

[Meanwhile, Zagreus chuckles and promptly grabs Shalem's hand. Despite everything, he does look unharmed, the shock quickly ricocheting off him.] That's quite alright. It's part of practice, right? You seemed like you were having fun, and so was I.

[zagreus is not supposed to praise him for... for that!! shalem flushes deeply as he helps haul zagreus up.]

Ah, that-- [perhaps it would be too much to ask that zagreus forgets it ever happened.]

As long as you're not hurt. [then his gaze sharpens after his initial shame, and he looks his student over with a critical eye.] You are unhurt, right?

I am, I am. [Look at him, folding arms and legs and wrists and rolling shoulders to show how uninjured he is. Zagreus is made out of stronger stuff than most, Shalem. He has nothing to worry about.] I sort of let it flow to see how much I can take it. I can take much more than that, don't worry.

[shalem can breathe easier now, with the lack of lasting damage.]

As long as you're well, that's all I care for. It's not my intent to truly hurt...

[he looks down at his hand, at the weak little shield, and wishes he had his own. it helps him regulate his power, but in a way, not having his shield keeps him from being too reckless for fear of making himself ill. well, more ill than he already is.]

Are you willing to continue?

[He shakes his head, hoping to be as reassuring as possible.] That's quite alright; I do believe I can take more of what you gave me so far.

[He may not be so tall, but he's sturdy, and is slightly (understatement) used to pain.] I am. Shall we?

[if shalem didn't know better, he would have said that zagreus is probably asking for shalem to do more... what a troublesome godling.]

One more round of sparring before we end this session, all right?

I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we still need to rest, and you need time to think about what you've learned and how to apply it better.

[That's because he is. He's had people spar with him to the death, Shalem, don't be a coward.]

Alright, that does make a proper training session. [He's a good pupil and does what he's told.] You've done this before, haven't you? It seems like it comes very naturally to you.

[was it that obvious, he wonders. is he even any good, he wonders. shalem never really thought he was exemplary in such things, just adequate-- or a fine enough teacher that his peers won't falter when it's time to fight.]

I have... been asked to take shifts in the training rooms before, helping other defenders refine their techniques.

You are the first I've worked with from nearly the ground up.

That makes sense. I'm really enjoying this. I've only ever learned about attacking with a shield, not defending.

[He rolls his wrists and shoulders, ready for the next session.] I have to thank you for this. I really needed to unwind, too.

[shalem shrugs sheepishly with a flush, unused to this specific praise because he never considered himself an actual teacher.]

I shall teach you how to properly attack with a shield next time. Perhaps... if you find a better shield to use, because I have no doubt that these will fall apart with the first strike.

[rhodes island's defenders go hard, okay.]

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