Severa

Outside of dosing Severa with Noire brand biological warfare, the archer would was actually quite hard pressed to actually upset the other girl. She would never admit it to anyone else but the twintailed mercenary had quite a soft spot for her raven haired friend. How one could stay mad at a face like that was entirely beyond her, to say nothing of the puppy like demeanor the other girl was insistent to clinging to. “Huh? Oh, fine.” She would reply back, letting her hands fall to her hips as she cocks a smile gently at Noire, it seems she moved all of one lance before already diverting the archer with chitchat. Severa wasn’t known to be the best worker after all. “You know, tormenting Owain and Cynthia, working with mother…” She trails off some, tilting her head as she cocks an eyebrow. “And how about you? Outside of being sick and in dire need of seeing a healer.” She stresses, yep, Noire was not going to be escaping under Severa’s careful gaze!

Severa, working with her mother? Noire paused in the middle of her action, blinking up at her friend in surprise - before she realized she was probably being /quite rude/. She shouldn’t be so surprised! Of course, Noire struggled with both wanting to be useful to her mother, and fearing what ‘being useful’ actually meant, but that didn’t seem whatsoever the kind of relationship that Severa seemed to have with her mother. Their relationship seemed… a lot more tense, uncomfortable - just by the way the red haired girl tensed up when the topic came up in the past.

Severa would blink a moment, a suspicious look coming across her features for a split second before she turned about and let here hands rest on her hips. It was quite rude! Though, thankfully for the both of them Severa only picked up on the smallest possible hint and thankfully didn’t descend into the foul mood and haughty mannerisms that she was so accustomed to when the topic of her mother came out. They had a healthy relationship! Honestly! It was just frought with heartbreak and abandonment issues and a daughter who wanted nothing more than her mother’s love and attention but spurred it at every moment that it was offered because of the innate driving fear that she would lose it all again to a fate she could never escape. You know, the average teenage experience.

Say’ri bends to reach for Severa, hoping to pick her up off the floor without much issue. She attempts to not let the curve of her smile break into a laugh, though the result of her own intent is Severa’s bumped head. As a few notes of laughter finally break through, Say’ri puts her left arm forward for Severa to grip.

“…So…” Noire echoed, trying so desperately not to try to rescue the poor lance Severa just chucked stage right. She probably knew what she was doing with that. “U-um, how are you? … It’s nice to be…” To be… uhh. “Here.” Noire finished, adding on a cough at the end. While she had long since let the question of ‘why did she turn into a sumo wrestler and body slam me’ drop, the archer was sensitive to the awkwardness between them, and that simply made her all the more awkward. 

Severa blinked, awkwardly wavering for a moment on the spot as she tilted her head to the right, “Well… If you insist.” She mumbles under her breath, wilting somewhat under that stern gaze before Severa mimics the action, though in a far more stiff manner. That was… Oddly formal for a sparring session! And there was something about her partner that convinced Severa to keep her mouth shut, normally she’d be all talk right about now! But… Say’ri was intimidating to say the least!

“H-Yaaah!” Severa shouted, body tensing as she delivered the blow! The practice blade ‘twhipping’ against Say’ri’s shoulder as that familiar, if not uncomfortable, tremor runs down Severa’s arm. To be entirely honest, Severa was very surprised that her hit had connected, the look of shock was actually quite present as she stares at her sword, still resting on her opponents shoulder. 

Not that tone of voice. The tone of voice that closed off Noire’s options and her escape routes, the one that absolutely insisted that she take better care of herself. It was a tone of voice that always made Noire squirm and feel pinned, every single time. Noire whined, just a little bit, shifting and looking possibly even more pathetic than she did before, knitting her brows together and pursing her lips and simply wanting to /resist/ Severa’s accusations - but of course, she couldn’t, because Severa was always right about these sorts of things and Severa always took good care of her.

Oh yes! It was THAT tone of voice, the one that was saved entirely for Noire. Just Noire. But its not like she liked Noire or anything, nope. Noire certainly wasn’t an adorable sweet little puppy that had to be protected at all costs. Not one bit. She was just another one of Severa’s dweeb friends! 

How good could she really be? (Say’ri x Severa)

Say’ri is similarly prepared for sparring, lacquered armor for now left behind, but the metal girdle still giving her steps a dignified weight. Dressed lightly for once, Say’ri rolls her shoulder for it to pop in an ungenteel crack, letting out a wistful sigh after the noise. Her own practise blade is old and notched, splintered all the way down to the hilt, but she keeps it lowered, held by her right side for the moment.

Severa blinked, awkwardly wavering for a moment on the spot as she tilted her head to the right, “Well... If you insist.” She mumbles under her breath, wilting somewhat under that stern gaze before Severa mimics the action, though in a far more stiff manner. That was... Oddly formal for a sparring session! And there was something about her partner that convinced Severa to keep her mouth shut, normally she’d be all talk right about now! But... Say’ri was intimidating to say the least! “I uh... Is that it?” She asks, squaring her pose back out, both hands gripping the practice sword and holding it aloft before her in a rather traditional manner. There was nothing special to it, and Severa seemed to be contemplating her next move, lips pulling into a gentle frown as her right foot dug in somewhat, only for her to suddenly surge forward at Say’ri! The attack was easily typegraphed, and where Severa may have some speed, the way she pulls up with the intent to deliver a downward strike certainly gives her power! But at the same time, Severa leaves herself extremely exposed to a quick strike around her midsection.

Nooo, noo. Noire didn’t want this! She just wanted to organize some weapons, feel useful - but now that Severa was here, she was already crumbling under the weight of Severa’s concern for her, her fidgeting betraying her growing discomfort with her company’s line of questioning. W-Wait, me? Did you interrupt me? Severa continued, and if not for the shock on her face, Noire would almost be relieved that it stopped being about how well she sounded. After all, she couldn’t really defend herself from that when she was constantly sniffling. “Oh, uh…”

Severa could only cringe at the sneeze, the girl taking a nice long step to the right to put a bit of distance between the two. “Noire, come on, who are you talking to?“ She asks, crossing her arms over her chest and drumming the fingers of her right hand against her bicep. “You’re sick.” She remarks, her eyebrows knitting as she uses that very matter-of-fact tone of voice that signals this is not up for a debate! She knows Noire too well, mostly that she is an innocent little flower in need of protection, or like a puppy dog or something.

It just figured it was Severa. Once again, Noire couldn’t help but think about how her normal bad luck seemed to just be worse with her around - it just figured that she’d make such a mess of things that Severa once more had to clean up. Or… er. Wipe off of her face. (The archer really was sorry about sneezing on her.) “I’m fine,” Noire finally choked out, quietly, shifting her eyes away from Severa. “What… er, what about you? Are you okay? You sort of -” I was on top of you.’, Noire wanted to say, but something about those five words made her stop and reconsider her sentence structure for another moment.

“I sort of?” She asks, gently cocking an eyebrow as she glances up and down Noire with an inquisitive, yet still very judgmental, look. She is trying so hard right now, she makes fun of people for doing all the right things! W-why is she having so much trouble being angry when the situation actually called for it? This is ridiculous! “I’m fine come on Noire.” She remarks, her hands sliding down to her hips as she leans forward a bit to peer intently at her friend. “You on the other hand don’t sound so fine.” She adds, absolutely oblivious to any disastrous Freudian slips they had only just avoided.

Noire wasn’t sure if she was glad to see Severa, or absolutely horrified - no, scratch that, she was definitely horrified. First of all, she sneezed right into poor Severa’s face, mask on or not - second of all, she screamed at poor, loving Severa - and third of all, oh my god, she was pinning Severa to the ground and poor Severa was whining and rubbing at her face and looking so offended, Noire made a similar choked sound and backed off, trying to mumble out some sort of apology but really just managing a few “S-sor– I didn’t me– I was, I meant -”

Severa does not whine. Whining would imply that she were complaining or sniveling and a woman of Severa’s caliber could never be so base. She was simply vocalizing her concern regaring Noire’s well being! And how a lack of said well being had just made itself evident all over her beautiful and perfect face! At least Severa’s mouth had been saved by the mask, but such salvation seemed lost on her in this moment. 

In hindsight, Noire would remember the small sneeze that heralded the loud sound that startled her so badly, though in the moment she thought maybe it was a ballista shot or something similarly horrible. Just as she dropped all of the spears to the floor and turned, she faced /someone/ - no, /something/ barreling at her with its arms outstretched, and - Noire couldn’t help it, she shrieked in kind, stumbling backwards as the person barreled right into her - and the other’s combined momentum sent them straight to the floor, landing in a disgruntled (and for Noire, more than a bit painful) heap.

Severa dug her heels in, desperately trying to stop herself as she skid on the floor and threw her hand into the air. “Ah! Noi-” Her exclamation will be cut short as she slams into the poor girl, Severa going head over heel and ending up sprawled awkwardly over her friend. They were painfully close now, helmet askew over the left half of her face as Severa blindly gropes and tries to roll away to freedom from this tangled mess of limbs and hair.