#the verbal sparring and the way she circles him with these little like... testing strikes that he keeps parrying

[neuxue]

Mu Nihuang: 你认识林殊吗？// Do you know Lin Shu? Mei Changsu: ……认识。// ...yes. Mu Nihuang: 他是真的战死了？// Did he really die in battle? Mei Changsu: 是。// Yes. Mu Nihuang: 战死的哪里？// Where did he die? Mei Changsu: 梅岭。// Meiling. Mu Nihuang: 尸骨葬于何处？// Where was he laid to rest? Mei Changsu: 七万英魂，天地为墓。// For seventy thousand valiant souls, the earth and sky are their grave. Mu Nihuang: 他的尸骨都没人收？一块遗骸也没有找到吗？// No one retrieved his body? Or any remains at all? Mei Changsu: 战事惨烈，堆尸如山。又有谁能认得谁是林殊呢？// In such a fierce and terrible battle, with bodies piled high as a mountain, who could recognise which was Lin Shu?

when you’re alive but you’re a ghost but the people who knew you look at you like you’re still alive but you’re a ghost: the Mei Changsu Experience™

[pathfindersemail]

Vignettes Deleted Scene

So um, I’m taking forever writing the tenth chapter of Vignettes, but I do have at least 20 drafts of failed chapters. I took one of those drafts that I really liked and put it here, in case anyone is interested in pointless Sarianna/Reyes fluff. Enjoy!

Fencing

The next time they saw each other, Reyes and Sarianna opted for a harmless little date spent in pastimes long forgotten. Ditaeon had recently installed an extensive and well-equipped recreation center for its denizens, and what better way to celebrate its opening than to treat their hero and her lover to a moment alone?

“Put the mask on before you hurt yourself.”

A wide grin followed Sara’s taunt as she wrapped gloves and guards over her arms. Across the stage from her, Reyes busied himself testing the fluidity of his wrist, spinning and twirling the foil with an unexpected air of grace. 

His eyes followed the flash of light that danced around the tip of his blade. Struck by the simplicity and elegance of such an archaic weapon, he almost lost himself following the flows of such a malleable metal. “I don’t know, Sara. I have a feeling… I think I have luck on my side!”

“You know, you’re facing the 2179 gold medalist of Earth’s World Fencing Championship.” She flicked her wrist, and the tip of the blade whipped through the air with barely a whistle. Her feet squared together in a rigid straightening of her posture. Helmet on her side, Sara pointed the sword right at Reyes as soon as he entered the ring. “I don’t think luck can help you today.”

“Don’t be so sure,” he warned with a lopsided grin. “I’m no mathematician, but I’m guessing someone must have swiped that medal in the six hundred you were in cryo.”

They both laughed, shaking their heads at the silly exchange of verbal parries and ripostes in an attempt to raise the winning stakes. But in the end, Sara herself couldn’t help but ogle, with wide, doe-eyed wonder, at her boyfriend taking on a duelist pose in his stuffy, bleached white nylon jacket. His limbs moved with a concerning rigidity - a sign that he was unused to all the accouterments of safety precautions and rules that kept any and all fencing duels clean. 

Much to her surprise, she caught Reyes giving off a similar though more subtle gaze. The telltale gleam in his eyes were all that broke their hypnotized daydream.

“What are you staring at?” She shot the question as soon as she started to put on the wire-mesh mask, drowning out the rest of the words in a muffle.

“Nothing,” he answered. “I just thought you look… cute.” 

A streak the color of wine tinged her cheeks, prompting her to hurriedly equip the mask before he could see. Unfortunately, Reyes had quick eyes and didn’t fail to notice just how flustered she got. Still, he humored her sense of dignity and honor by keeping the observation to himself, all the while putting on his mask in preparation for the fight.

Sara widened her stance and lashed at the air with the foil in jocular salute. She waited for Reyes to do the same, though his response was a lackadaisical parting of his legs and a slight, courteous bow before he raised his sword. He bent his knee and readied a stance, mirroring what he had seen from the times he previously watched Sara spar with her brother.

“En garde!” she shouted, and the bout began.

Sara bolted for the offensive, seizing the right of way and immediately putting Reyes on a defensive withdrawal. She dealt a series of thrusts in a quick string of unseeable blows. Each light step left him parrying helplessly with barely enough time to even attempt a riposte.

She dove for his right, forcing him to lean to the left with the flail of his arm. His ankle gave way, and an opening presented itself. She struck without hesitation, and the red-chalked tip of her foil marked the middle of his torso.

Reyes stopped in dumbstruck surprise. “Is that…?” His roughened breathing took over the rest of the sentence. He didn’t expect to get so tired so quickly. 

“Touché!” Sara let out a breathless laugh in explanation. “A point for me!”

“Alright! Alright!” His arms went up in contented defeat. “You win that one.” He walked back in something of a more intimidating prowl to the starting line - confident and more certain that the mistake of the first bout would not be repeated. 

She let out a giggle as she relaxed her stance, the sword falling to the side of her hip. “I’m sorry! I promise to take it easier on you next bout.” With a strut she almost skipped back to her position.

Reyes resumed the proper stance and quickly bowed the salute. “Not as sorry as you’ll be,” he muttered with a mischievous grin. As soon as Sara postured hers, he raised his foil and shouted, “En garde!” before she was even ready. 

The second bout began in lightning fast motions. Reyes took the initiative immediately and swung with imprecise force. Though Sara successfully parried each one, the strength with which he felled his jabs pressured her to a slight retreat. She grinded her teeth as she felt her own weight push back on her heels.

In that same moment, Reyes dove for a thrust onto her torso, but the more experienced Pathfinder glided out of the way in evasive maneuver. “Nice try,” she yelled out with a sly smile. The two circled each other for an informal reprieve. Sara swung her foil across the hair as a corrective slash before resuming her position. “Try to keep to the rules?”

Reyes didn’t even bother with a salute. He stayed with feet shoulder-width apart. Bobbing his head to the side, he instead offered a shrug. “You know I don’t play fair.”

He speared the foil towards Sara’s torso without warning. In turn she skipped back before fanning her blade to block the strike. 

Normally, she would’ve cried out against the rule breaking, but his thrusts and swings had her on the precipice of a thrilling edge. The chafing of their steel was music to her ears, gliding with a harsh screech before the foils whip away at each other. Sara let Reyes lead the way with his forceful initiative, entrapping her in tempestuous dance as their blades met in instantaneous clashes.

“Didn’t know you knew how to duel, albeit poorly, but at least you know some moves.” She laughed out the insult through her mask, feeling uncharacteristically daring as he lunged forward for another unsuccessful blow at her chest. 

“Seriously Sara for someone with all your training, how are you this bad? Maybe you should ask your SAM for help.” He punctuated the provocation with a more derisive grin.

Her heart quickened and took the bait, letting out a grunt before she moved low to feign a move for his knee.

Sara thought that he would dodge, or at the very least parry, as expected in an art carefully belabored with rules.

But Reyes was never one for rules.

In a flash, he slid to the right in a seamless semicircle before reaching out and grabbing the marked tip of her foil the moment she darted for the target.

“Hey! Wai-...!!!”

He pulled the sword towards him before she could react, sending her fumbling for her footing. The tug was too harsh, and so Sara had to let go as she stumbled towards him in clumsy defeat. Reyes flung his weapon to the ground as he caught her fall. She landed with a thrashing against the padding of his armor. 

“I believe I have the game?” He smiled brazen and victorious, quirking an arrogant brow as she tilted her head forward to look at him.

He slid the mask off his sweat-laden face, an act which she unconsciously mirrored. Both faces faces exposed, they spent long drawn-out seconds in a half-smile daze. The harsh panting of his lungs lent a heat to the cool perspiration lining the tresses of her hair.

“You cheated!” she protested, pounding her fists on his chest. The menacing furrows of her contorted face betrayed the reddened disappointment with which she met her defeat. “Those aren’t the ru-...!” 

He stole the word with a disruptive kiss. Breathy and soft as her anger dissipated into a more relaxed exhalation. 

By the time he pulled away, she couldn’t help but maintain some trace of the rage that so quickly waned away. “That wasn’t fair, Reyes!” Though she had on something of a grimace, a hint of a chortle threatened to burst from her lips.

“You know I never play fair.” 

They laughed and kissed; the sounds of it drowned out in the hollows of their throat as Sara tilted her head for a more giving posture. Reyes threw down the other blade in his hand and eagerly hooked both arms around her waist, deepening the kiss the moment she parted it. 

“Really?! Here?!” she asked incredulously, but no less swept away by the harshness of the breath in her voice.

“Why not?” he asked with sprightly indifference. 

Sara looked at him with incredulity, her eyes darting around the room for any sign of a hapless voyeur. “Reyes! This is the outpost gym!” A giggle burst through in childlike glee as she flirted with the idea of such lurid rebellion. “Anyone could walk in!” she whispered through the grit of her hushed teeth. 

“Relax,” he murmured before inching closer. His hands helped her out of her jacket as he busied himself with the soft edge of her jawline. “We made a private reservation. No one will walk in.” 

Sara bit her lip at the otherwise sound reasoning. In truth she ran out of excuses anyway.

The first to go were the gloves; then the nylon jacket; and eventually the shoulder pads and guards that he took great pains to wear. Soon all that were left was the stainless steel lame guarding his chest - a triviality he quickly rid himself of.

Free of the armor, Reyes towered over her with an undershirt and the tight fitting fencing knickers he had borrowed for the day.

Though she offered up reasons against it, Sara was nonetheless busy following suit. The slow untangling of the cords around her uniform sounded off with a zip against the velcro and nylon texture of her garment. Still, a nymph-like smile overtook the panic she was faking, neither did it discourage Reyes from his own, more forward advances. All that was left was for her to let his hands do more of the work, to unlace the guards and the armor until bare skin showed. 

“Rematch?”

Reyes threw back his head with incredulous amusement. “You’re too competitive,” he remarked with the shake of his head. He followed up the chiding truth with another kiss, letting his hands wander to her undershirt. He briefly parted to roll it up above her shoulders, exposing her to the cool air conditioning of the room’s overly bright pallor. “I promise you’ll get a rematch.”

With a cheeky grin, she parried his promises with a demand, “I want it now.”

Falling, they tumbled down in a pile of fabric and armor. They engaged in another bout, forgetting the past incisive strikes and blows they dealt each other.