The Prosecution Rests

[Seiaman]

Coraman grunted as she struggled to do the last situp - she ached everywhere from the new training regimen that Cairma had her do every day. On top of honing her skill in the Flame and Void, she never had to concentrate so much every single day. Until Seiaman found her. There were times when she wondered where she would be now if her foster mother had not literally plucked her from the streets. She suppressed a shudder; it was still not pleasant thinking of her life in the streets yet she knew she could not forget the lessons learnt.

 

She got on her two feet and stretched her arms over her head as her eyes swept across the yards. Coraman still felt uncommonly out of place in the midst of the White Tower - a single street urchin training among royalty, merchants, and soldiers. There was no other person training in the ranks that had endured the low ranks of civilization, that she knew of. Coraman knew there would be some of her fellow beings lurking somewhere; keeping their history quiet. Although she could not fathom why. Most of the trainees that she had met seemed to be casual and laid back; not the snubbery and self-righteousness that she had started to encounter in the Tower Guard ranks. Cora held back a snort. There were plenty that were full of themselves. She had to wonder how they would fare as a peasant on the streets of Tar Valon, with the cloud of legends hanging over their heads.

[Guest Estel]

As was his custom, Faerthines was in a foul mood. Then again, it wasn’t really a custom, more like a prolonged mood having everything to do with a sudden build-up of emotion. Why could nothing go right? Why did everything come crashing down on his head? His hopes, his expectations, even his assumptions. Everything had been shattered. So perhaps he could be forgiven his mood. Though it was unlikely the Mistress of Trainees would see it as such.

 

Walking into his room, he knew immediately that something was missing. Where in the Pit of Doom was his sword? Cursing at the top of his lungs, the boy kicked at the piles of clothes littering the floor, searching for the blade. Blood and ashes? Where had he left the thing? Damnit! He hadn’t taken it with him! Where could it be?

 

His copper face was a perfect example of his infamous Liones temper. Obviously someone must have taken it! One of the many side-effects of his mother’s temper was the inability to think rationally. And so it was that poor Coraman ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

Part of his disjointed logic went thus: ‘Coraman... street urchin... street filth... filthy thieves... thieves steal... stolen sword... my sword...’

 

And so, his face a shade close to purple, Faerthines stormed up to the much smaller Trainee and shouted “Give me back my sword, thieving brat!â€

[Seiaman]

ooc: sorry this took a while. :)

 

ic: “Give me back my sword, thieving brat!â€

 

She turned quickly and clearly saw the larger boy, a trainee she thought, storm closer and closer. Rage coated his eyes and his jaw was tense. First instinct she had was to run. To be caught stealing brought a consequence of death on the streets. But that mere thought halted her legs from moving an inch. "I didn't steal your sword." She tried to remain calm as the larger boy face came inches close to hers. Coraman didn't have to wonder why he was accusing her - it was now no secret that she was a street urchin, living out of trash barrels in the streets of Tar Valon. Imaginations ran wild and pretty soon, she found that many were very wary of being around her.

 

"Believe me or not but back off." She reached up and gave the boy a shove. "Your breath stinks and I don't like smelling the remains of last night's dinner. I didn't steal your sword, I don't even know where your room is."

[Guest Estel]

The thief’s shove sent Faerthines into a fit of cruel laughter. Being tall was a disadvantage for many things: dancing with short women, moving through small spaces, going through doors that were way too small and a thousand other little things that inconvenienced him everyday. However, in this case, a tiny girl attempting to push around a much larger boy was an object of definite amusement.

 

The street urchin’s face darkened and Faerthines laughed harder. He wasn’t usually this cruel... scratch that, yes he was... But he had reasons! He could justify it to himself! Who wouldn’t need to take their anger out after they find out that their mother isn’t anything near who they’d hoped and believed they’d be? As for the alcohol she smelled on his breath, so what if he’d been drowning his pain in drink? He wasn’t the only man to turn to the balm of alcohol.

 

“You think you can push me around, girl?†Somehow he didn’t think there was any possible way to make that simple statement sound more sexist. “I don’t believe you and you certainly can’t make me.†With that, he shoved her right back, harder than she had shoved him.

[Seiaman]

Coraman fell backwards, hitting the ground violently. Instinct told her to get up and get away but her temper was beyond the point of no return. She jumped to her feet and stepped closer to the larger boy, "Shove off. I don't have to prove you anything. I... don't have ... your sword. Is that too complicated for your woolheaded mind to process?" But without giving the boy a chance to throw off his own retort, Cora jumped towards him with her fists aiming straight for his head.

 

ooc: make contact or not ;) up to you. Just a difference in 1 ws but Cora has a little experience in street fighting. Then you can go ahead and pummel her. ;) Then I'll get Fnorrll to jump in.

[Guest Estel]

The sudden explosion of fists caught him off guard temporarily, but by now Faerthines had been in too many fights to be caught by surprise for long. After a few moment he was landing his own punches as she kept pummeling him. It surprised him, actually, that a girl her size wouldn’t shrink from a fight with a larger boy and even more surprising was that she was definitely holding her own against him.

 

Standing he did could not make full advantage of his height and so, braving a number of punches to the face and a knee that came way too close to his groin, he threw his weight against her to knock her to the ground.