nadiaholme

[nadiaholme]

She watches - almost in slow motion - as he blocks her blow, and her teeth clench together. Should have expected that. The thought passes through her mind before she realizes it's passed, but it's blocked out by the other words filtering through, unable to latch onto anything until her teacher speaks - bringing her back to the present.

Her tongue darts out to her lower lip, anxiously, trying to soothe dry, cracked lips.

Nadia doesn't know what the word means, doesn't know why it's rattling around, doesn't know it's significance - but her release of her power had wrapped around him and extracted something. Her face screws up, and she drops the bokken and steps back, stiff.

"Nothing. I don't know what a Voiceless is." She shakes her head, bringing her hand to her forehead, trying to stave off the burgeoning headache - there's too much, too many years of information trying to slide its way into her brain, so she closes off - locks it down for a bit of relief.

He wants to know what she feels here; how much of her magic she can reach whilst he feels the reigns of her control ebb and flow backwards and forwards; a wave lapping at the shoreline, waiting to see what it might take to its depths. Tetsuya suspects she hasn't verbalised her capability in its entirety. It's smart even, what being dares open the floodgates without knowing they'll reap the result they desire?

Better then, to trickle information out, little by little. Test the waters, per se. Miyazaki sees only a student on the precipice of a new technique; mastering the basics, so then they may know discipline and strength; mental and physical.

The wood comes down, and he feels the harsh slap of the bokken in his palm, ceasing her assault. Good. He silently praises, eyes travelling the length of the weapon, to the grip she has on the hilt, to the tension in her arms and the tendons in her throat. They settle on her face. It's not urgent, his next words, but inquisitive; patient.

"What have you learned?" He almost dares to tell her what he sees her magic manifest as. He's attuned to the elements, found in almost every object in the room; so fine-tuned to the air they breath, he often thinks the only thing he's yet to ever achieve is to see if he can rip the very idea of life from existence; how much could he steal, before he, as the oxygen box would implode.

Not enough; there are limits, to a dying witch.

Tetsuya sees Nadia's magic as threads, yet to be woven. Single strands fraying at her edges, reaching out to the floor, towards him, wrapping around his stomach, and his ankles; not to harm, but to know. He doesn't think it's a threat. He cannot say for certain if he has ever known an ability quite like it. Variations, perhaps. He wonders what kind of magic it'll become when she learns to weave those threads. But the lesson here is what can she determine between multidisciplines.

[nadiaholme]

Nadia stared up at the other person, wide eyed and unsure of what was happening here and now. What the other person rattles off, she only recognizes the word 'coffee' and she's about to question it -- it sounds like alcohol and they definitely do not serve that.

Blinking, she fumbles for her keys and turns - away from her, absolutely not noticing the prick of fangs at her lip ( too focused at looking in her eyes, and wondering what could possibly be so urgent ). There's no one she can call for help, so opening back up seems like the easiest thing to do.

"I'll, uh, start the machines again. It's not a problem."

"There's this little witch—" someone had mentioned, and it was enough; those four words were just the right amount of encouragement she needed to organize another kind of soirée. She didn't know her name, that wasn't of much importance, only the address where she could be found. Frankie couldn't remember if she'd been here before, there was nothing too familiar about the place, not until their palms met, on each side of the door suddenly stopped from closing. The vampire pushed slightly, just to remind the other that she wouldn't give in easily, not without her applying a bit of magic, and even then — Frankie was faster, stronger, by the time magic could prick the witch' fingertips, she'd already have her bleeding red. And what kind of magic was that exactly, staining her blood? She couldn't wait to taste.

Euphoria swam within large hues, "Coffee, Dom Pérignon, 1945 Château Mouton-Rothschild—" she had an expensive taste in both wine and blood.

The charm of her smile hid sharp tips of pearly white fangs. Come on now, little witch. "You won't leave me out here in the cold, will you?" accent laced tongue spun words into soft pleas.

[nadiaholme]

where: lipscomb caverns

The shitty thing about all of this is that Nadia has absolutely no idea what she’s doing, which makes it even more ridiculous when she actually sits down to think about it. And sitting she is. Right in front of the Apsara-shaped crystal in the caverns. Her eyes are closed tightly, and she’s gripping the old, worn pack of playing cards in her hand like a lifeline. How much of this was she supposed to do herself and how much was she supposed to let happen to her?

Taking a deep breath, she shuffles the deck three times - the exact same way she was taught before coming to Port Leiry. Help her now, if anything. One card face up:

King of Clubs. Change and action with authority and protection. Nadia swallows heavily and looks up to the crystal. The interpretation is clear in her mind - she is the authority bringing change, is she not? She draws another.

Nine of Spades. Compromise and compassion with anxiety and communication. At this Nadia hangs her head and nearly laughs out loud at herself. Of course she’s anxious — but the cards are telling her to compromise, to show compassion. That’s the easiest part of this, really, she’s always tried to be. And the final card.

Four of Spades. More anxiety, more communication with stability. Nadia picks up the card and puts them back into her deck, thumbing through them. There’s no way she can bring stability, all by her lonesome, can she?

She stands and brushes herself off — touching a part of the crystal that’s jutting out and feels her mind feels like it’s being shocked, her head squeezing and it stops when she finally lets go. There’s no clarity, no vision that shows her what to do next, instead it’s just something in her mind now that she’s sure will pop up later when the time is right. She wishes she could pluck the thoughts from the ether, able to hear and see and feel the future — the threads are just out of her grasp and sight.

Leaving the cavern, she’s greeted by the sight of the rest of the coven. Jamie and Kore she knows by name, but the rest of them she doesn’t — there aren’t many of them. Which is good, Nadia thinks, it would be harder to manage much more than this. And harder for the city of Port Leiry to tangle with.. well, a bunch of people who didn’t really have their heads screwed on all right.

“With Apsara gone..” She starts, not sure of herself and voice shaking, “I was thinking maybe I could take up the leader spot. Help us be a coven again.” Nadia glances over to Jamie, grimacing, and then back to the others - softening her features into a smile. “The only thing is, I’d need some help. I’m not some.. some mystical all-knowing person. I just wanna get us on the right track, like she would have wanted. We can’t be scattered, anymore. There’s.. There’s too much happening in the city, too many people dying. I want us to try and help Port Leiry, help it be safe for witches again.”

As she speaks, there’s a little spark of confidence that grows larger. “Safe for us, safe for our allies. The more we work together the stronger we can be, yeah? So.. we’ll, uhm. We’ll start with monthly coven meetings. Here, at the caverns.” At that, she pulls out a little notepad and walks up to another witch to get their information, and so on and so on until she has all of their names and numbers written down. She feels silly, but.. it’s a start.

[nadiaholme]

Her lower lip feels raw from chewing on it, worrying it between her teeth while she thinks and while Jamie ruminates. What could be done here? There's not enough of them to make much change, and -- Something feels right in her chest when she thinks about the coven itself. Like it's somewhere she's meant to have been this whole time. What she wouldn't give for her Aunt's insight now..

"Maybe that's part of it. The relearning." She murmurs, mostly to herself.

But then Jamie's offering help, and it feels like this might be really happening, and she swallows hard. "Sure. You'd be.. You'd be alright to, if that's what you need." Nadia finds herself nodding, and then brings her thumb to her lips, chewing on the fingernail as she thinks.

"Okay, so. I'll, uhm. I'll try and.." She glances to the shape of the crystal near them, and tries to focus on not crying. "Convene. Could you get the rest of us to meet here? I'll.. I'll announce it, then." She's doing this. Oh, fuck, she's doing this.

Wasn't really a shock to hear Nadia didn't want to lead the coven either. Who would? They weren't even really a coven anymore, they were just a group of witches with a vague promise of something they couldn't deliver.

The irony; they were supposed to see the future, and they didn't even have one.

When Nadia spoke again, Jamie looked up with a questioning look. "I guess... But does anybody here even know how to do that anymore? I feel like we haven't been together in years. I don't know if we can just relearn how to do it."

Not that they had any other option. And frankly, for Jamie, if that was the end of Augury, so be it. Not like they'd ever done anything for her to begin with. One less coven witch in the world — big whoop.

And then her glance falls on Apsara again. She would hate to disappoint her. The very idea eats her from the inside and makes her want to vomit. She looks away again.

"Fuck it. If you go for it, I can try to help, but I make no promises. That's the best I can offer," probably more than she should have. Chances are this would have a better shot at working without her involvement. "But if I see it's not working, I'm jumping ship. I already got burned trying to save this coven once before. I'm not doing it again."

[nadiaholme]

👗 - An outfit my character would wear.

i have no idea what this style is called but this is the vibe

[nadiaholme]

When he stops his onslaught, the muscles in her forearms feel tired from defending the way she'd been taught. She shifts, loosens and fixes her grip on the wood - the more she thinks about this, the less she thinks about keeping a tight hold on the magic she'd been trying to keep at bay.

Even now, she feels information threatening to slide its way into her mind, the knowing of things that she shouldn't know. It's not predictions, not in the way that Jamie talks about them, and not seeing in the way that she thinks Kore does it. It's simply looking at Tetsuya and knowing what he might have had to eat or drink today.

If Nadia didn't know his name, it would wiggle its way into her mind, just like it had with that man at the masquerade.

His words are short and clipped, but just enough that she knows what to do next - was it the magic or simply her being able to pick up on his mannerisms? Either way, she moves forward and brings the object whipping towards him, arcing downward, feet planted.

It takes time, to understand one's own magic. It often takes longer to comprehend another, in order to meaningfully teach them something about oneself. Mastering the art of any technique takes more than time. It takes focus, determination and a drive to be better than what one currently is.

Tetsuya is glad she hasn't crumbled under the pressure of what can often be a complex understanding of the foundations. A waste of time, some students have said; unaware that magic can be building blocks, towering higher until it crosses the apex of the sky, the edge of gravity — after, there is only infinite.

"It will lighten over time." She gets his assurance, for her honesty. There is no shame in the truth, where there is an intention to be better. If her mind is so set on the martial arts of it all, he wants to see what she might read from the rest of the abnormal; what she leans into, or what she doesn't when she moves.

Nadia stumbles but does not fall. Good. Miyazaki straightens, allowing her a moment to recompose before he lands a second strike on the wood. Patient, in seeing what tendrils of magic leak out of her, where her attention is stolen on the act of defence. He can see it, almost like he can feel the shift in the air at the way her feet dig hard into the mats. He stops his assault, satisfied he has brought down one degree of her walls. Enough so, that he might get a taste of what magic she's let go unguided.

He opens the floor for Nadia to make her debut with the weapon; to land a hit on him. He waits. Standing, until she might make her first offensive move. He's taught her the groundwork and she can apply it to what feels right; her natural path. He will continue to mould her, with each unfettered move: "You, now."

[nadiaholme]

She's not good at this, Nadia realizes. She's never had community or people or anyone but an angry father and a mother who couldn't look her in the eye. The only thing she'd had was an old woman who tried her best but couldn't do much more than that. And now she's staring an entirely new dynamic in the face, losing someone she might have thought of as another aunt -- barely having a chance to make friends of the people within this.. coven.

And now they're aimless. They can see and feel and hear all the futures they want, but if they're not bound together, then they're just.. nothing.

Her attention turns to the crystal, lips pursing together in a frown while her heart stutters with grief and longing.

"I don't.." Want it. But if Kore doesn't? And if Jamie doesn't? Should she? Would anyone listen? Instead, she turns towards the crystal and traces her fingers along the hard edges. "I don't think I'm in any position to."

But, maybe that's really why she should? "I'd need help. I'd need.. We'd need to be an actual coven. Right?"

And there it was, the old familiar feeling. Guilt.

If Jamie hadn't failed to stop the fire or convince everyone that it was real, there would still be plenty of Augury witches around to take Apsara's place. But she didn't. She was the reason there was basically nobody else. Yeah, she really didn't need the reminder.

"I can talk to Kore, but I'm telling you right now don't get your hopes up. She likes to keep it to herself."

For a passing moment she considers it. Maybe if she was the head of the coven people would listen to her visions, maybe they would actually stop more bad things from happening. Maybe Augury would actually be useful for once.

But it's all pointless. Nobody respects her enough to actually give her the opportunity. Fuck them. "No it," she says, pulling away from Nadia's touch. "It's all yours if you want it."

[nadiaholme]

closed starter for: @frnoialles

Though things felt a little more skewed and off-kilter these days, Nadia was trying her damnedest to keep her life in order - trying to not think about the woman turned to crystal in the caverns or the way she didn't think anyone would be able to get her back on track with things.. Maybe Miyazaki? But he didn't really seem like the type of guy to talk things out.

She did appreciate the soreness and the discipline, but she did need someone to talk to. Jamie and Kore didn't really seem like the types either.

Moving out of the coffee shop, she turned and locked the door behind her - all routine. Key turn in lock, flash of blood red in her mind, following by her clutching her forehead and gritting her teeth. When she turned, someone was a little too close for comfort.

She blinked against the rush of magic in her mind, and stared at the person. "Uhm. Were you wanting coffee? I just closed."

[nadiaholme]

Nadia shrinks under the almost-snap of Jamie's words and she shoves her hands into her pockets, shoulders rolling forward as she looks down at the rocks and crystals around them. She hadn't even really got to know Apsara too much -- but that one day in the coffee shop had led her to this point, she knew.

She swallows hard, chewing her lower lip raw. "No. I'm.. I don't know anyone. Not here or.." There was no way she'd find anyone back in the sticks -- the only connection she'd had to her own form of magic was long gone.

When her companion drops down to the ground, she crouches down out of instinct and reaches to touch her -- but stops short before her hand touches Jamie's shoulder. "It's gotta be.. It's gonna be one of us, right? It.. Maybe Kore..?"

Jamie never saw this coming. This was her whole deal, it was her curse since she knew what magic was, to know when tragedy like this was gonna happen; and now there she was, with one of the only people who ever cared for her in years... gone. And she had no idea.

She was shaking.

Nadia's question feels almost offensive. "How the hell should I know? Half of this coven wants me dead." A slight exaggeration to make a point, but the sentiment remained: she was barely an Augury witch as it was, and with Apsara no longer in command, she felt more distant to it than ever.

"Do you have anyone to call? Anyone that can take over for a while?" The only other person she knew was Kore and Jamie knew her well enough to know she would want nothing to do with it.

Jamie dropped to the ground and forced herself to look away from her former mentor. "This isn't happening. This has to be another fucking nightmare."

[nadiaholme]

She watches him, studies him - and when he gives her the nod, her stance relaxes as instructed. Already there's a nice little ache in her shoulders, but not too much that it would prohibit her from doing more. It's odd -- to practice martial arts as a preliminary of learning magic. But she understands, now, why it's like this. It's about control of self, mind and body. If she can't twist her mind into understanding and controlling herself at it's core, how will she understand the otherworldly parts of her?

Hell, before all of this -- she wasn't sure she wanted to even believe that there was a power there. Now, she's doing all she can to just block it out.

She catches the wooden sword when it's tossed to her, but not without slight fumbling. Nadia weighs it in her hands, and grips the hilt bringing it into a slightly similar stance. "Good. It feels-- Heavy." She also means more than one thing -- the weight of the room, the weight of her thoughts, and the magic she's trying so hard to keep at bay.

She swallows, hard, and tries to take his words to heart. Now, she settles deeper into the stance, grip a little too tight -- fear, maybe? When he kicks, she brings up the sword ( sloppy, but connecting ) to block the attack, and stumbles backwards. She'd been taken off guard, and that was the problem.

Her hold on her magic goes lax as she tries to remember his lessons, and to defend, defend, defend.

The next time she gets into a formal stance, he's silently approving of it. A firm-set, solid foundation with clear and concise movements; she's confident in this one, there's no doubt in the ripples of muscle nor of the certainty that he's about to knock her down again. She believes it, this time. That she'll stay standing.

She might be praised about it, in the way his head lifts and a glimmer sparks in the pits of his gaze. They've yet to even taste, or brush magic yet. He's only shown her the kind that unbalances a person when someone is not prepared.

If she maintains this assertiveness over the core basics, he thinks she might be something that could eventually pose a challenge. With a nod, he intends for her to relax her stance. Miyazaki leads them to the other side of the dojo, where bokuto are balanced on hooks against the wall. He lifts one and swiftly, without warning tosses one of the wooden swords to Nadia. It's heavy, but less weighted if she maintains her stance, firmly drawing a fist to her hips — only now, she will have that fist around the hilt. Whether she intends to learn this art, is irrelevant. She'll learn strength and discipline this way.

"How does it feel?" the bokuto, the room — her confidence, her concern among the lacklustre thrum of blood that leaks magic. Tetsuya moves two fingers through the air, watching the minor flush of fire skirt down the length of the sword between them. "It is easier to defend if there is something you believe will take the force first." A lesson, as always. Sometimes defence is better than an offence; timing is a patience game. He needs her to remember her stance, feel the weight of the object in her grip when she might need to stop a blow.

Miyazaki allows her time to get into her stance once more before he allows their core basics to morph into a full technique. And then, he spins, to kick his foot at the weapon she's learning.

[nadiaholme]

closed starter for: @visioncursed where: lipscomb caverns

This was all a little too real. It'd only been recently that she felt like she'd really joined the coven, and she hasn't been able to do much of anything other than try and not lose herself to the constant overload of information she gets on a daily basis. Just knowing things is exhausting. She likes her cards, they provide focus.

But now-- the one who brought her in is now encased in ( or literally? ) some sort of crystal. Looking around, she wonders how many witches in here are the same.

Turning, she looks to Jamie with a frown.

"What do we do now?"

[nadiaholme]

Working as much as she did, Nadia started to learn the regulars and their favorites - it made things easier when all she had to do was flash a bright smile and get their order ready without them having to wait. Her favorite was an older lady, with a slight shake in her hands, and wrinkles that told her she'd spent much of her life laughing. She liked a decaffeinated black tea with a splash of milk.

However, with Medina, it was always something new. Not a bad thing necessarily, but definitely kept her on her toes. She brightened up when she saw the familiar face and got her order ready to go as quick as possible --

Not seconds later, though, Nadia watched as she stumbled and spilled the contents. Wincing, she started another of the exact same drink and rushed outside to hopefully prevent the passersby from being too irritable. "I'm so sorry-- Here, here. I made you a new one, and.." She looked to the other, drenched in it. "We have a bathroom if you'd like to clean up."

open to anyone between brewed awakening and tūmatarau apothecary.

brewed awakening was one of few places that had become a staple for medina since arriving in port leiry. starting her day with a cup of coffee or tea was already a formed habit, plus the drinks at brewed had always started her off on the right foot for the day. especially when they put a little something extra in her cup. every day she'd come in and order something new. she never was a simple girl and she often did find herself bored of the same thing over and over again. todays cup had an earthier smell to it, medina's nose resting above the lid, the steam of the hot beverage warming her face as she made her way from brewed and towards the apothecary she'd had her eye on recently. medina's grip on her recyclable cup tightened as her heel slipped into a crack in the ground beneath her, sticking in the process. the cup didn't leave her hand, but the contents did, tripping on her own caught heel, the hot beverage came shooting out before her, towards whoever it was walking opposite her. " oh bollocks! ' she huffs out, reaching back to yank her heel from the ground before offering any courtesy to the person before her. " did you make it out unscathed? ' she asked before looking up to see for herself if her beverage had landed on them or not.

[nadiaholme]

Anxiety is rolling off of Jac in waves, and Nadia gets it - she's just as anxious, something rolling in her gut at trying to seem somewhat normal. At least here, with her, it's almost like she doesn't have to pretend so much. Maybe because she's not the one bewildered at someone talking to her.

Her eyebrows raise and she interrupts her so she won't go nuclear. "I'm cool with a next time." With her regular shoes on, she stands and winces a little at the ache in her legs, but they walk together towards the concession stand.

She'd been eyeing some of the candy displayed, but-- the idea of a hot dog is really calling to her. Probably not as good as the ones she got on the side of the road going up the mountain, but serviceable. "That's cool - This city's nice." But she shakes her head, "No, no - I'm not really new, but it's the first time in a bit that I've been able to get out."

Should she go into the whole.. thing? Probably not all of it. "I just got my first apartment not too long ago and I work at Brewed Awakening. Came here because my tips were really good this week and I've never been somewhere like this by myself before. You said you were here with.. a friend, right? What made you tag along?"

Jac blinks in surprise when Nadia flops easily into a chair beside her, already going through the process of switching over to her shoes from her skates. She supposes it's not that out of the ordinary for normal people, but it's the first time that Jac feels like she can be included in that group.

She hurriedly slips her feet out of the skates and into her normal shoes, sighing internally in relief now that the world stopped moving from underneath her. Her head pops back up when Nadia offers to buy and asks if she is from around here. Immediately, her mouth opens to protest, but she pauses, unsure what exactly is the polite response here. Was she just offering to be nice? Did Jac look hungry or like she didn't have money?

"Oh, it's... I mean, if you're okay with that. I can get next time. If... if there's a next time. There doesn't have to be because, you know, we're strangers and you might think I'm totally weird or something and-" she forces herself to stop talking with a long exhale. "Um... yeah, I was born and raised here," she decides that changing the subject abruptly was less embarrassing for all involved. "What about you? Are you new here?" She's never seen her around, not that Jac gets out very much, but she thinks she would remember Nadia's face if she had seen it. Jac stands, gesturing towards the concession booth so they could continue their conversation while they walked. "What made you come to the rink tonight?"

[nadiaholme]

Before she has time to react, he moves quick to knock her onto her back - the air expelling from her lungs in a soft grunt as she hits the ground. Nadia's face contorts into something akin to pain, but she's not down for the count. If anything, the pain is a reminder of what she's here for - to remind herself that she's a different person than what she was raised to be, groomed to be.

She does rise back to her feet and brushes herself off. His quiet amusement makes something swell in her chest - like she knows she can do this. And she sinks down into the position again, this time planting her feet and grounding her form like he had shown her.

She shifts her weight from foot to foot to test it before sinking into it again, lifting her hands as she'd been taught. This time she lifts her arm and brings it back down to her waist in clear, concise movements.

He's building foundations for the next generations; it's a long future thought. Houses built atop the staling blood and mud of history. It's planting new greenery and roots, where the earth has been fed iron and bone, stabilised and hardened for new bricks to sit atop and wash away the perishable parts of the past.

Nadia understands, he imagines, that silence is a good sign after several sessions. The quiet of the dojo means there is contentment; satisfaction is a close comfort, it means there is nothing to scold or burn for. Miyazaki's gaze is assessing as he watches the woman mimic the gestures, form fine, assertion lacking.

Instead of a verbal correction, Tetsuya twists his foot on the floor as if he has an extension of himself wrapped around Nadia's ankles; a single pivot that provokes airy arms to sweep along the ground, rippling like an ocean might sweep at a ship. A veil of air cuts along the ground to crash around her calves, with enough force to trip the most promising student.

It's his way of reminding her that had she grounded her form, she might have been able to counter, or affirm herself. Tetsuya straightens, hands pressed together behind his back. He allows his expression to display minor amusement — he is not disappointed; discipline takes time and patience is a virtuous act that he has a complex relationship with.

He waits for Nadia to take her position again, or give up, as many of them have before.

[nadiaholme]

She grits her teeth at the smack to her forearm, straightening it out into the proper form. Nadia has never practiced anything like this, but when she'd seen the dojo and flyers for it, she'd joined up on a whim. It's money she feels like she doesn't have (she does), but it's worth it for the sore muscles and shake in her legs when she returns home.

It's good, to feel yourself improving in something, at the very least.

He adjust to the front of her, shifting into a stance and movement that she quickly figures out to imitate. Her fist, too, goes towards her waist - and then pushes out. There's not a lot of confidence in her movements, but she's doing them all the same.

It's different with magic. Doing it over and over again to build it up - feels harder somehow when it's not physical.

When she returns back to a resting stance, she bites down hard at her lower lip in an attempt to straighten, wobbling and nearly falling.

For: @nadiaholme

When he is not in the dark with a screen haloing him in artificial light. Miyazaki has a redemptive role as sensei. He walks the soft mats barefoot, circling Nadia like a killer whale. A giant force, only painted murderous when under threat. He eyes the next generation with a bitter disdain. He’s obtusely aware of his lack of time to mold them into something of substance. His biological clock is hidden beneath fabrics, but he knows it drills deep enough that it bleeds the surface of his skin a decaying black.

On weekends, he reserves time for those vying for an intense focus. Often, he finds that the magically inclined find out he’s not just dangerous in one art, and they crave to get a chance to train in a private setting; they want to know where he came from, who he is, or what he is.

He has no qualm with it. If they wish to be slammed into the mats by a whirlwind, so be it. Speaking is a distraction; small talk is a focus that isn’t on the discipline of her poise.

Nadia is one of his newer students and it shows. The back of his hand smacks the underside of her forearm, making sure she holds steady. His foot twists the same way as he stands before her, ancient mind imagining a thousand other youths where she stands; of various disciplines and training.

He’s silent in his teachings, if he speaks, the likelihood is that they are failing to adapt to the arts.

When he’s standing in front of Nadia, he mirrors her stance — dark eyes speak far more coldly, urging her to mimic the movements as he draws a fist inwards almost against his waist; muscles firm and tight before he pushes it out with the same confidence. A return to a resting stance, but no waver in the back and forth. The basics are the foundations of the complex.

He straightens, waiting for her to show him the sequence of moves.

[nadiaholme]

Nadia finds herself smiling easily at the agreement, and makes her way over towards the seats, too - already plopped in one to catch her breath and soothe her aching calves just from a quick few laps around the place. She's not used to things like this - the fun, easy ones. It always feels like she's going to end up having a catch or that someone will make her feel terrible for smiling.

Those days are long gone, though, and she looks up - "Oh - I was gonna.." She gestures down to her feet with a laugh.

"We can go together, it's fine." Another, softer laugh, a hint of a blush dusting at her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. This is all so much, and she's really just -

She's trying to reach out and make friends and have fun, and feels awkward herself.

"I'll buy?" Now that she has some money, she doesn't mind helping someone out or splurging on some food once in a while. Especially if she uses her discount for food at the shop. Once her shoes are changed, she sits up a bit and looks over at Jac -

"Are you a local?"

She expects Nadia to ask more questions about Lara, or talk about the boyfriend she must have, or altogether just cut the conversation short because she realizes how awkward Jac is as a human being. But the redhead does nothing of the sort, even invites her to stick around and she has to recalibrate the responses she had already prepared.

"Oh! Um... yeah, we can... we can do that." Her head bobs up and down like a bobblehead but she starts moving towards the small gap in the wall that lets people skate on and off the floor. Once they're back on the carpet, she feels a tiny bit steadier, though she is pretty sure she looks entirely ridiculous shuffling along the brightly patterned floor.

"I think... I'm going to switch to my regular shoes," she admits finally after catching herself from falling for the third time. "I mean... if you actually want the corn dog..." Suddenly, Jac is uncertain that maybe she is doing too much. "I can meet you at the concession stand?" At least that way, Nadia had an excuse to walk away before any of this became more embarrassing.

[nadiaholme]

NADIA as A GREEN FAIRY

It's the first year she's felt like she could actually dress up without incurring some sort of heavenly wrath - so she opts for something simple and cute that makes her feel adorable. The wings are from the flea market and the corset is a hand-me-down over the top of a handmade dress.

She's attending AJ's party, though it's not entirely her scene, so she can experience what a real adult Halloween party is like -- And is about to have a true culture shock.