I GOT A BONE TO PICK

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[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;"] Argus is not unaware of her own weakness.

Ever since she has taken up her new name she has been realized with the power that poisened her mortal frame. Like hot iron pooling her blood. bleeding throguh her muscles and she spent moments of the day shuddering to control it. Hiding the fresh black ichor as it bleed from her maw under the careul shawl of her once shadowed pelt. But now her fur reflects the light. And while this body was once scarless no one bothered to guess that the color of her pelt was a symptom to something horrid. The name now lost on her tongue- left to fester within a tome that the watcher dare not pick up again.

But it is fine now. Her blood runs red and a sure fire sign of her claim- her mask at being mortal. She has little clue to if it is because of the once constant thrum that she only has memories of is no longer presence. A reckless volatile creature with habits of someone with the ability to automatically heal- now practically powerless. She would wonder if she is loosing her god-hood her claim to being a shinigami if it weren't for the glaring state of her throat. Not the weeping wounds or bandaged limb but the gaping hole that shoots through the entirety of her throat.

While it is true she has lost her weapon both physically and mentally. The sword she had not outright tried to seek merely because she hasn't truly wanted all the responsibility having that weapon again- would entail. She had not seeked the spirit touched blade because she was not sure how it another conscious would fit within the ever evolving psyche of her own tormented mind.

Hell, she hasn't even used a proper weapon in a fight since she lost her blade. Pincher thinks it's best to put her in a position not only to man the rest of her crewmates with similar blades and armor- but to train them in it? Well, he was not fully aware of what kind of monster he had under his thumb- nor was he aware of everything about her. In fact most of the crew were all quite secretive of their past. He probably had little clue what he was digging into asking her of this. Then again- she has asked for a way to better help the clan. It would do her good to teach for now. At least while her injuries are healing. Until she could try branching and glide again she will have to make do.

So she made her way into anchored tempest. One of the first time the officer has stepped anywhere close onto this boat beside to sleep in her quarters- and quickly disappeared within the undertow of the ship to seek the already prepared weapons and crates. Better to start with a little class now- take inventory of what they had now and work from there. There was no place to even make weapons- so she would have to set for making a place for that along the beach maybe within the week if she was lucky.

For now she enlisted a few NPC's to help her haul the weapon crates out of the ship. Pulling them to the dock and into the island's earth. Along the statues that stand on each end of the dock horizontally, the officer leans against a crate and grins- peering down into one of the crates to see a familiar blade.

Obsidian carved, with a purple glint to the jagged edged blade. She hadn't a clue how her sword had ended up here, but amusing the origins of this clan's happening were thieves and traitors. Maybe someone had stolen it for the pile or killed her grandfather for it. Maybe it had been here all along when she abandoned it. Waiting for her to stumble upon it she griped the handle between her jaws. Careful. Overjoyed to feel the familiar thrum of power between her fangs in the woven handle.

No she had not looked for her blade, but having it here was a comfort she was going to take. Pulling the blade closer her to herself. Letting the woven handle unwind and close around the edges of the blade. Covering it from sight. She turned her head and settled along her back and got back to work. The weight of the blade under her folded wings- the only change in the officer being the glow to her eyes and the inconspicuous handle that pocked from the right side of her neck from under her wings.

It is now well into the afternoon. Where most nocturnal are finally waking up just before the light of the sun could fade into the horizon. Argus now stands on a sort of rug that's about the size of her wingspan if she bothered to open her wings. Big enough for her crew mates to spar on and consider the grass that it rests on out of bounds if you touch it. Better than having to go around and collect rocks and create her own circles to help with training. Tall rocks that will work well for testing dummies outside of the circle and towards the other side of the clearing. Boxes and crates stacked. A few pairs of each weapon sitting in the grass.

" Alright crew mates! If any of yall are interested in arming yourselves you've gotta come sit down here and show me what you got. Need a weapon? Feel free to browse too. Just know you're not leaving without showing me you know what your doing with it." Because she wasn't an idiot, wasn't going to let idiots wonder around with weapons unless she knew that they wouldn't hurt themselves trying to harm the enemy.

"I've got a sparring ring here for yall to try out your own weapon of choice with me, and some 'dummies' set up for you to get a feel of yall's weapon o' choice." Said dummies consisted of rocks with paintings of frowns and sometimes just the word B E CK on them. As well as a few smaller tree's for the heavier weapons to try and cut down.

I GOT A BONE TO PICK

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[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;"] Argus feels so much lighter now. As if her past could be easily replaced with the comforting hum of a handle she had not expected to see. There was something easy about her relationship with muramasa. Without expectations and just about comfort. Seeking it in each other, seeking it along the battle field where they could lay waste to their enemies. She wouldn't ever admit to anyone that her sword had a conscious- but spirit touched blade usually did. Zanpakutō's usually did. But her role in this earth wasn't something to really discus- her job punishment was a carefully woven part of her that she could not- should not reveal to any walking mortal.

It wasn't a realization, just a reminder. And it tugged slightly at her own fractured heart as she saw the little vodoo master to be approach the scene. Taking a look around and feeling a proud smile settled onto her expression as she watched the other. Honestly- argus was a bit surprised to see the other pull a woven satchel of her weapon of choice. Scissors where not common but crafty. It already clued argus a little to the crewmate's fighting style. Methodical, personal and dangerous in battle. The last part was glimmered within the way she seemed at ease with the weapon. Handles falling into the medic's careful paws like it belonged- like welcoming home something lost.

The smirk that settled across her features at the question was more of a challange than anything else. Pincher had told her to arm her crewmates. He wouldn't reconsider what he said until one of them used them in a fight against each other he was sure. Yet that was maybe one of the points that argus had chosen to select a rug for fighting. Not just to see their potential with the blade but to reassure herself that they could handle themselves. To show the leader too, that they knew the dangers of carrying weapons within camp. Argus would not let them leave that ring without knowing that a blade could so quickly be turned against them. "You got to earn em first lily".

The tragic part of it was when little keona approached. The challenge- the rush of fight seemed to send a jolt of cold when she directed her attention to the small fey feline. Argus grew up in a war torn clan, and even then she taught herself most of what she knew. Brawling with strangers and enemies alike. Getting cuts and bruises. But it did not compare to her first raid. Nothing could really prepare keona for something like that. Being blind no less would only mae her an easy target.

She watched the other shuffle through the weapons tensly thinking. They were all probably a little to big for her, but she could probably pull something and make her something. A kunai small enough for her jaws. Maybe a full set that would work well enough. But for now she had to make do. Coming behind the kitten carefully and pulling one of the cloth satchels- and ripping the bag apart. First thing first. Argus had to make her less of a target. Even without a weapon she could still take something from this exercise. " You know how to tie a knot Keona?" She pulled a thin layer of the ripped cloth and set it down before the her tiny paws.

" First part of a fight is the way you look. Keona you look weak and your murky eyes are a good enough sign that you are blind. Tie this around your eyes." Argus' words were harsh from the usual chipper. Dull red eyes narrowed as she seemed to glare at the ground before the kit. She always regretted this. Teaching kids. But she would not halve ass this. Not allow a child enter the battlefield unprepared. She would not.  "It will add a level of uncertancy in your enemies. While you did not choose to not and be able to see, your enemies will not know that this way. Plant a seed of doubt into their head"

This was the issue with teaching a class. There was no room for individuality. No room to train one on one- no time to really analyze someone with a blade. Or see the way the other seemed to slump over bag of new awarded weapons. Could not predict the other's fimiluarity had anything to do with a bloodstained cloak and a body ending up in the streets. Maybe later- much later she could reflect and come talk to lily about her predictions. But for now she merely flashed the other a tight smile. Some of the earlier emotion set deep into her eyes. The regret, but the set to teach. To arm- to protect. "Would you like to set up to the mats and show me what you got Lilypoise? Or settle with one of the dummies for now?"

Now the need to fight was of a different nature. She didn't want to have to deal with this unkempt emotion. Wanted to battle out this frustration, this hopelessness, this knowing thing. Knowing knowing knowing. The watcher could only watch Keona disappear later in life. Pray that she would take these things argus tells her to heart and never approach a battlefeld until she had someone to back her. Unlike Argus had. The world was a dark and gruesome place and argus was a fool for forgetting it. Argus was a fool for thinking Keona would be safe in the typhoon, with even these words argus told her now. It was nothing. Nothing but a warning she hoped the kit would take.

Maybe a raid was in order after this lession.

I GOT A BONE TO PICK

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[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;"] When argus moved to step behind keona she noticed the tenseness of her shoulders. The gentle frown turning almost into a snarl and she felt some pang of hurt. The frown tugging at the corner of her features the only sign of the growing hysteria within the officer’s mind. She did not want to teach keona but she wanted the other to be prepared. She wanted to teach fairly but keona was a child and she was having issues. Issues differentiating this small fae with the horrors of war. Making herself slowly sick with the imagery of someone trying to take advantage of a kid- see easy prey and

no no no nononoNO-

The other’s soft words held a conviction argus knew better than to change. she could. She could twist her words into an edge to which cut keona with. Emotionally crippled her to see. She heated how the idea popped in her head, and tried to shake it away and let herself be convinced with the other’s words. . Dark red eyes reflecting nothing. Carefully blank as she regarded the other with an almost cold stare. Not that she could see.

She stepped closer. Keeping her face blank as raised a paw above her head-

She used her teeth to pull out the iron claw casing on her paw. It was dull with unused but still had a very edged point. Lowered her head- pushing the cloth away and dropping the nugget of metal down before the kit. “Well, this is weapons training kid. Maybe i can get you something for your claws like mine?” Her voice had a slightly blank note that it did not before, and she did not explain anything. Maybe if the other was honest in this; wanting to fight- the need to prove herself. Then Argus could pull her aside some time and actually train her.

Afterall, Pincher had told her to look for anyone showing promise for a secret group within the clan. Keona was young, easy to mold into something dangerous and hopefully, quick to learn.

Argus was familiar with her weapon out of fighting for her life. While most people who had... blades such as hers went through vigorous training put through school to learn not only how to communicate and how to properly deal with an enemy. To make clean kills that are not only merciful for the spirit but any onlookers. Most of all they taught you how to go around unseen. Shinigami were not meant to be discovered by mortals and maybe, there in lie the key problem with Argus. At least- one of the many limitless flaws that she could count off the top of her head.

She was used to being messy, brutal, searing her mark into any soul she sent forth into the afterlife and to the unlucky ones- that spent the rest of their days wriggling under her skin, souls consumed as a means of more power. Her blade was not meant to be used on mortals, but she did it all the same. Enemies who lay waste stained the inky black of the blade, now washed by some unseen patron who had stolen it. It was not as if someone would immediately die upon being pierced.

But argus was not born with her blade. She has not had thousands of years to learn it's name or how to wield it. She has had moments of insanity depression and the like. She has lived throughout the years of her immortal punishment with different names- all of which her blade knows. Before this blade she was still just as savage. Just as immoral even as a kid, With this blade now, she still breathes the same savage chaotic battle strategies. With this blade she is all the more lethal.

She could see now, in a moment of clarity lily's own hesitation in attacking a clanamte. If only she knew, Argus has dealt with worse than someone trying to kill her. She has died countless times and always come back. But that was a secret. Heavily guarded secret if not due to mortals own fear of the afterlife but the way that they would treat her if she knew. Instead she uses lil's own words when healing her, the smile on her features softening into something meant to reassure lil. "I would rather not waste too much resources if i accidentally re open my wounds. Show me what your comfortable in showing me, and We'll go from there, sound good?" She used her right wing (the undamaged one) And made a gesture to one of the saplings within the clearing.

Because all that she wants to battle out her frustrations she was too keen for her own good. To see the mild panic settle onto another’s shoulders was enough to get her to snap out of whatever dark thinking she had set herself on and help. Maybe it was something to do with the way that Argus has been as a kid. Tiptoeing around monsters and making treaties with beasts instead of friendships. Building connections with murderers and exiles instead of making friends. Maybe they were similar, but as a kid argus knew better than to stick around someone with eyes like those. Knew nothing of helping others. But now she was learning- slowly but still trying.

//ack mobile. Sorry for grammar mistakes