knightexemplar | Ready for a fight...

Nothing drained frustration from the body better than a valiant battle. Unfortunately, what Arturia was left with was neither valiant nor a battle. In fact, it looked a lot like a girl hitting a chair with the remnants of what had once been a standing lamp in the middle of what had been labeled the sparring room (though how it could be a sparring room without actual weapons left Arturia at a loss). The staves already in the room were not of an acceptable height to substitute a spear, hence why she had felt the need to destroy the lamp. If one was truly curious enough to check the adjacent recreational room, one might note that one of the high backed metal chairs and one of the tall standing lamps was missing.

The girl also just longed to hear metal clashing against metal. This wasn’t something she was going to achieve with the flimsy bamboo swords and practice dummies.

Furthermore, if the station felt the need to kidnap people, the former king felt no shame in destroying some of the tacky futurist furniture. As an aside, Arturia also felt that if the furniture wasn’t meant to be moved, someone should have secured it to the floor. Clearly it was inexpensive, considering how easily the high backed egg shaped seat had dented when it fell over. It hadn’t been too terribly heavy either and the girl probably scraped the floor directly outside the room when she’d dragged the chair over. That had actually been the easy part, taking the lamp apart had taken some skill.

As much as Arturia wanted to bash the lamp into the wall until the pieces she didn’t need shattered or fell out through the center of the pole, she relented. Instead she spent time unscrewing the shade, light bulb, lamp and base until all that remained was the 5 foot center pole. A fine makeshift practice spear, not her best weapon but it was far better than having nothing to vanquish that chair with.

That had been a few hours ago and Arturia had since taken her shoes off. Sweat had already soaked into the hooded jacket she wore (with that odd mobile thing in the pocket). She paused briefly to drop the jacket to the floor and wipe the sweat from her eyes with the back of her hand. This is exactly where she felt at home: fighting with a weapon in her hands.

Her movements were controlled and brutally efficient. Her knights were often surprised she didn’t utilize spears more often on the battlefield. With her short stature, they definitely gave her an edge over taller opponents but nothing felt more comfortable in her hands than a sword. Sir Ector had started her young in her training, knowing full well that she would eventually be king. She would often joke with Lancelot that she knew how to handle a sword before she learned to walk.

The thought of the Knight of the Lake brought a sad smile to her face. He had utterly destroyed himself because of her. Even their final battle in the grail war had been a right mess and had his master not fallen, Lancelot would have killed her. Fate was often cruel and that moment had solidified her resolve to erase her mistakes.

All this thinking and she still managed to attack her opponent. Sir ugly chair. She spun around hitting the base of the chair with the bottom shaft of her makeshift weapon; a loud clang filled the room as she turned again, this time going for the killing blow. “Hah!” She went in for a strait strike at the chair’s center, lifting it slightly. The chair was lifted off the ground a few inches before teetering backwards and rolling onto its side and sending the cushions scattering over the floor.

Her labored breathing was a clear indicator that the workout had been a good one. She surveyed the chair a moment, resting lightly on the pole. “Well, I feel you won’t be offending the living area any longer.”

Well, if this was the only opponent she would have, the woman might be doomed to perish of boredom.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

shepard

Shepard's breathing is heavier now. Running and gunning is one thing, but swordfighting required considerable more strength and agility than a few shots with a pistol. She watches as Arturia's shoulder shift; Shepard moves her sword to meet the blonde's, but it's much lower than the sword falls. Shepard brings her sword upward, and it only barely meets Arturia's; the force behind the knight's blow sends Shepard's sword scattering to the floor for the second time since practice began.

It's then that Shepard knows that she's done.

"Good fight," she says, extending a hand out to the woman to take.

"You're right," Shepard says, taking a seat on a bench near the wall. "Gender shouldn't matter. The only thing that should matter is a person's ability to lead and lead well. Who you are or where you came from shouldn't even factor in the equation. A long time ago in my reality, things were like that, too; people judged others based on their gender, on their beliefs, on their sexual orientation, on the color of their skin. But things changed and they're a lot better." First contact probably helped a lot with that, though, "Hopefully, things will change in your reality, too."

Shepard takes her towel into her hand and begins to dry off her sweat-drenched tresses. "Do your men know you're a woman?" Arturia's bitterness regarding her gender -- coupled with her use of the title 'king' leads her to believe this might not be the case.

"Not everyone aboard the station is good at fighting," she says, thinking specifically of Bashir and Abed. "So I really hope that's not the case."

From:

knightexemplar

A small smile touched Arturia’s lips, this was an excellent fight and she was definitely pleased with the progress the other woman had made with the swordsmanship. She would have to teach her how to watch for false movement next time.

“No,” she waved a hand before taking the other woman’s hand “An excellent fight. You learn quickly.” With a small nod she released her hand and retrieved the fallen practice sword to return it to the rack, “I I train here daily and would not mind the company. I can continue these lessons if you feel it would be a benefit to you.”

She brushed away the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Feeling sweat trickling down her back she suspected the back of her shirt was a bit of a mess. Her thoughts returned to the conversation at hand.

“That is pleasant to hear,” and her words were genuine. She wished as much from her people but changing a mindset was something that took time, more time than a single ruler could have on a throne, “I do not think a mindset is something that can change quickly and I know it is better in the future but I also know it took centuries for movement to occur.” It was something she had learned when coming back for the grail war. “I also believe there are still pre-conceptions in the minds of the people,” she added thoughtfully before moving back to Shepard’s other question.

She offered a small shake of her head, “No, they do not.” It was her one lie, her one dishonor as king, “It was a secret that only a select few were privy to. I went to great lengths to hide my identity and asked others to do the same.” A pause and a small frown, “It wasn’t a fair thing of me to do and reflecting back on my life I suppose there is much I could have changed about the way I ruled.”

She referred to herself and her kingdom in the past tense, only hinting that she had disappeared (or rather nearly died). She had many regrets about the way she ruled and concealing her gender wasn’t top on the list.

Arturia crossed the room to pick up her sweatshirt shifting the conversation to the others on the station, “I believe our thoughts on that are the same. I will vow to protect whomever I can if this ends up the case.”

She took a seat next to Shepard, pulling the communicator out of the pocket of the jacket before moving it to the side of the bench. “Do you still have a few free moments?”

From:

shepard

"I had a good teacher," Shepard returns. The challenge was definitely welcomed -- especially after weeks of sparring solo against boxing bags. While Shepard doubted that sword fighting would ever come in handy in her own reality, it was entirely possible it would come in handy here. And at the very least, it would give her a better workout than she was used to.

"You have a specific time that you're here?" It sounds like Shepard's up to taking lessons, if Arturia's up to teaching them.

But then the subject segues to something far more serious. "It is going to take time," Shepard agrees. "But there's no way anyone's going to change their mind if they don't see competent women in power." It's probably easier said than done; Shepard can't imagine outing oneself as a woman in her time would be easy to do.

When Arturia sits next to her and pulls out her communicator, Shepard tugs out her own. "This is the power button," she begins to explain. "It's probably the most important button on the device..."

Shepard's explanation starts with the basics: about keeping the communicator charged, about powering it off and on, about checking messages and calling others. Once it seems that Arturia has a grasp on the basics, she moves on to less important topics: changing the melody the device emits when one receives a message from a specific person, playing the preloaded games on the device, adding specific words to the device's autocorrect function.

If there's anything that can be said about Shepard, it's that she's a patient teacher.

"Need me to go over anything else?" she asks, looking over at Arturia once the lesson is done.

From:

knightexemplar

“Many thanks,” this said with a small, polite nod. She knew she was a good teacher, if not a harsh teacher. Many of her students generally went home with bruises so maybe she had gone easy on Shepard. “Perhaps we can work on other things, outside of sword tactics as well,” she was not opposed to hand to hand combat either. Her strengths didn’t lie there and she felt it would e beneficial as well.

“Even if that was something I could change, it would destroy my country.” Her lips pursed into a thin line, her people didn’t trust her any longer. The cold and distant king was too far from her people, she didn’t understand them, and she didn’t understand their suffering. These were their feelings and this is why they had turned away from her and to Mordred. It didn’t matter that the claims were false. “I do not regret my decisions as king, my country is far more important than my own happiness,” she waved a hand as if to brush the situation off as nothing, the forced smile touching her features betrayed that it was more than nothing.

She changed the topic away from her past, focusing on the communicator and when she arrived to train. “I am usually here when I arise. I suppose an exact time will be easier to determine with this,” she motioned to the communicator.

Attentive to Shepard’s instructions, Arturia proved that she could also be an excellent student. She asked pointed questions when she didn’t understand. It seemed easy enough to use, though she couldn’t quite grasp why anyone would spend time playing games on the device. It seemed a waste of time.

“I think I understand, thank you,” a beat, “Why would one play games on this? It seems a right waste of time?”

From:

shepard

Shepard doesn't press the topic of Arturia's gender any more than she has already. What makes sense to her only makes sense to her because she's spent a lifetime in a reality where women and men were treated equally. Arturia on the other hand, didn't share in those privileges.

"When you get here tomorrow, send me a message," she says. The blonde's first homework assignment. "I'll come."

And to answer Arturia's questions regarding games...

"It's just some way to blow time. After awhile, things are going to get pretty boring aboard the Prosperina. There seems to be a lot to do at first, but after a few weeks, things get old fast." Shepard wasn't particularly fond of games, but playing Pac-Man or Snake was a good way to blow a few minutes while she was waiting for Bashir to arrive for breakfast or settling down for a night of sleep.

From:

knightexemplar

“I can do that,” she looked down at the communicator, “Or and the very least, I’ll start a small fire with it and send smoke signals down the hallway.” Hey, who knows, maybe there was a feature on it for that very thing. It seemed to do everything else.

“Hm,” that still seemed like a waste of time, “are there not books available here?” She did much prefer reading to anything else when she had idle time. She draped her jacket over her shoulder before picking up her makeshift spear. She should probably move that chair back into the other room. Perhaps someone would assume the dents and holes in the cushions held some kind of aesthetic value.

From:

shepard

"I forgot that." Shepard snaps her communicator back open, then, with a few swift gestures of the finger, stops on a screen with a plethora of icons. One being a tiny book.

"There's a library of books here," she says, tapping on it. "You should be able to find what you're looking for with just a search." So long as the communicators did not prove as flaky as the replicators.

"You reading something interesting when you were transported here?" she asks, snapping the communicator shut again.

From:

knightexemplar

“Well, it seems they have thought of everything with this little contraption. I suppose this saves space in the long run,” though the little device was missing that familiar smell books had. It was old and rich and utterly irreplaceable. Societies utilizing technology like this would miss half of the experience.

The mention of the replicators brought a frown to her face instantly, “I am unsure as to why the food dispensers are called replicators but I assure you that it isn’t replicating anything edible on a consistent basis.” That appliance had become the bane of her existence, maybe this was actually hell.

“Ah!” her expression brightened with the mention of reading. She had loved reading back in Camelot and the habit continued when she was pulled into the modern era and left to her own devices. “Yes, I was reading the Odyssey,” coincidentally it wasn’t a book she would have read in her time but it was one she had enjoyed none the less and she was pulled away before she could finish it. It was silly to enjoy something so simple but it was a story Arturia appreciated.

From:

shepard

"The Odyssey," Shepard says, smiling her approval. If it was the same The Odyseey in her world, it was a book worth reading. Though it definitely made things confusing; how can a book created in one reality exist concurrently on another?

She wasn't sure that even Liara would have a theory on this.

"It's a good read," she says, stepping to her feet; her towel dangles over her shoulder. "If you need anything," she says, lifting the communicator up and tapping it with a single digit. "Message me."

Hopefully this wouldn't be impossible for Arturia.

And if Arturia doesn't have anything else to say, she makes her way towards the exit.

From:

knightexemplar

"I shall, the same to you," a pause then a small smile, "Though I cannot guarantee I'll see the message immediately."

Having decided that, yes, she did need to drag that chair back into the recreation room, she moved carefully over to the tacky seat.

"Fare thee well, Shepard," this said over her shoulder.

[Fin!]

(unless you had anything else!)

From:

shepard

(And nope, perfect! I would totally be down for some more heart-to-hearts sometime, though, given that I think that Arturia's the only other woman on the ship she's really talked to since finding herself here.)