Exchanging of Class

[The Union of Tinis]

"Hey you two!" said Xef taking a seat with Angie and Bin. On the raccoon's tray were a majority of the items that both Bin and Angie had opted to not take when they had grabbed their food. Weird jells, some sort of yellow and brown spotted sprouts, at least three different types of fried beetles. Xef grabbed one of the cooked bugs and began munching on its legs.

"So I was talking with my friend Gryro and he said that Smatty said that there's a concert the night after classes start. Some sort of swing orchestra or something. Famous violinist or three or a singer who does jumping jacks or something strange going on. But it counts for cultural enrichment which is good and and stuff."

Bin looked at Angie and said, "Does everyone here but you talk that fast?"

"Its the south central accent," she replied.

"Yeah," added Xef. "If I was like ten miles further west I'd talk half this fast and insult everyone's mom every third word."

"Alright..." said Bin skeptical of this characterization.

"But your accent," says Xef framing Angie's face with his fingers. "You're north easterly I think. Not quite fox coast, but far enough."

"Well, you're half right. My mom's from that area."

"Ah, close enough." Xef dug further into his pile of bugs before taking a spoon full of gelatin. "So you game for the dance?"

"I think I'll think about it," said Bin. Xef's explanation hadn't made much sense at all and so he wasn't sure what he was being invited to exactly.

"Oh!" said Xef. "Mind if I have someone over to the room tonight? I met a girl today who's super keen."

[miokalia]

"I'm afraid there is something this place here isn't so good at. Consolation, that is.
I suppose, at least they died defending themselves.
Though I can't beleive I'm saying this, the fact that your family is now in a war with the emporer alone is a abysmal fate.
The fact that anyone has to die over... something which seems so avoidable to us is just unresolvable.", Li paused for a moment.

He continued,
"If you were with your family right now, and died along with the entire pride. Then who would be left to remember your family. I don't mean the records of the Emporer fighting your family, I don't mean their property. Who would be left to remember who they were as people? Who would be left to remember those things you told me about your brothers?
Here at least, they will always be with you in memory.

Even Doyte who lacks any sense of mysticism whatsoever would agree that in your memory, at least those people continue to exist in some way.

I know there's a lot to this I don't understand. Your's is a different world, but you have to find a way to continue.

I suppose if the forces of the universe were really conspiring to annihilate your pride entirely, then you would have been killed by that polar bear, or would have just exploded randomly by now or something.

I have a feeling that you wish you could do something.
Well when we get back home, we're going to go to the Ciata Consulate in Hokyldaryon.
That guy isn't directly appointed by the emporer, he is appointed by the Ambassador, so he'll be a bit more attentive to your situation."


----


The artifical hotspring on the roof of the building had an unusual smell to it, to Pavilon. He expected more of the rocky, pumice smell of a natural hot spring, this one smelled of wound ointment for some reason. A crisp peroxide smell, clear water with tile lining.
Li took them there, it was near the middle of the terrace and not many others were around.
Li stepped in hesitantly, then eventually sat down on one of the side benches in the water. On the other side of the spring, through a mesh partition which had been pulled down like a curtain, a creature like Doyte basically leaped in without much thought at all.
Li placed a folded towel atop his head to keep the waves from soaking it.

Pavilon disrobed and entered on the other side.

"I'm not even going to ask how this is possible, to have a hot spring up in the air, over a building like this, but I assume this is something not all that spectacularly unusual for you.", said Pavilon, still unsure about the smell.

"Since all three of us are here", began Li, which caused Pavilon to look around looking for the third. Li pointed down towards the deeper end of the pool, where a black dragon thing was moving along the bottom of the pool.
"Here is the plan. We go back to Hokyldaryon tomorrow morning and then we go to the Ciata Consulate. I don't know if there is anything we can do for Pavilon's family back home, but maybe getting the consulate to hear the problem out and maybe get the Ambassador in on it, so that we can all beg the Emporer to be merciful and seek a different solution to this other than war."

"I don't beg", said Pavilon flatly, "War is the only course of action which could be taken. My family had to fight, or the other warlords would take our land and walk all over us. There was no other possible choice."

"I don't know what we can do. But I know that we should at least try to do something", said Li.

Occa finally emerged from the bottom of the pool and said,
"It is highly unlikely anything could be done, and our government would not be able to intervene, if they were to intervene at all. Even if we were able to get the secretary of state himself to go over there and talk to the Emporer on your behalf, which would be implausible, he would hear the Emporer out, and then probably condone his action. On your people's map of directions, I think Andertol would be leaning more toward the path of light.
Problem is: the consulate is, an indirect representative of the Emporer. From what I can tell, your family is at war with that very same Emporer. So this would yield nothing."

He then sank back down into the pool, and went back to swimming along the bottom, in a motion much like that of a sea snake, except with legs.

"What you need to do: Is start over again here.
But I'm afraid you can't continue the warlordship here. Such a system is impossible in a population so dense.

Even though I disagree with your pride's ways, I do wish there was some way we could just stop the fighting, or turn back time and undo that specific event which percipitated this, but I have a feeling that something else would have caused this to happen. A different spark would have detonated the powderkeg.", said Li.

Occa surfaced again and said, "I think the best course of action is to hold on to what you have. If you were to go back there and join in the fighting, you would surely perish. The Emporer's armies are surely very large and vast. If you perish, then that is it. That is the end of your pride, and the end of the memories of those people. And you don't want to loose those.
I could explain exactly, scientifically why that is, but I don't think that it's necessary to understand why it's important."

[Ciata]

Pavilon stood there, listening to all that, standing with his arms crossed, not getting in. Li noticed that he was making no move to get in.

"Hey, you can get in, it's fine, there's nothing in here to hurt you."

"I don't swim." Pavilon replied coolly.

"Don't, or can't?" Occa popped up and asked.

Pavilon frowned even more. "I'm from the arid plains, I don't swim." In a lower, very unhappy voice.

"Suite yourself, it's fun and relaxing..." Li turned around, enjoying it soaking his fur. He thought for a second and turned back around quickly. "Wait, how do you clean your fur if you don't like water?"

Pavilon looked off into the distance. "There are ways, we have our ways to do things and survive."

"Well even so, you can always change." Occa dove back in.

Pavilon thought for a while. "I don't want to bother with all of that ambassador mess, what's done is done, you can't stop our people from war, besides, from what I hear it's bigger than just my Pride."

"You hear? How have you been hearing all this stuff? Is it that panther again? I thought I smelled something earlier like that weird scent in that coffee shop that time on the balcony." Li questioned the lion.

"Yes, she was here, she's the end informant for me, brings the news from home." Pavilon answered right back, not trying to hide more things.

"Who is she, and why does she run off all the time? How did she get here?" Li had been pondering that for some time.

"She's my personal informant, she answers directly to me and works contacts to get word from home."

"So is she like your spy?" Li asked, getting a little worried.

"Spy, courier, friend who tells you news of home, whatever you call it, she doesn't tell me secrets, there's just no other way to get news from home...though she is a good spy." Li licked across his canine teeth, thinking about something with an odd look on his face.

[miokalia]

Early in the morning the three checked out of the hotel and caught the train back down to Meikkleth.
The train station was very close to the campus and this was a nice thing. Seeing as it was close to the middle of town.

Returning to class was almost slightly normalizing, but not quite enough for it to have an impact of his mood. Pavilon sat, scowling lion in the back of the room. A face which made other students lend him plenty of clearence.
Most of the instructors ignored it except for one.

"Pavilon is there something bothering you about our student-sensei relationship.", said professor Gohdal, the Ethics instructor.
In response to Pavilon's deep scowl which many other students assumed to be a territorial thing and had given him yield to. Except for Gohdal.

Gohdal, a heavily-published professor with several honorary degrees who would shake students around until their necks snapped and then swallow them whole. Or so he was described by some other faculty. The guy had almost no tolerance for compromizing his statements just to make others feel better. His ego was not only it's own area code, it was an entire continent.

"Sorry, I just can't leave my balls at the door like some", he said, maintaining the scowl.

"Yeah but for what, are you banging your balls on the walls for?", said Gohdal putting away the things atop his desk and taking note of the time.

"What do you know about balls?", said Pavilon.

"I'm sure I know plenty. Not all balls are the same. Some balls have to fight against bigger balls. Some balls have more to fight for than others...", said Gohdal, not at all cracking a smile.

Doyte, who was further back in the room, the dead-silent room, erupted in laughter at the frequency of the mentioning of the word 'balls'.
Gohdal, without changing his glance said quickly, "Hciha Doyte"
"Shut up Doyte".
He silenced himself quickly.

"And what would a book-nosing schoolmarm like you know about fighting?", said Pavilon, standing.

"Class dismissed.", said Gohdal.
The rest of the class got up and left, though they remained just outside the door to peek in and see where this clash of ego-titans would lead.

"I don't know what kind of little territorial fights you and your little clan have been up to, but I assure you, no matter how prepared you may be in fist, you are likely very ill-prepared in spirit for real conflict.", said Gohdal.

Pavilon took this as a cut at the honor of his pride, and charged the allosaurus with his paw aimed at his chest. This insult could not slide.
Gohdal was his size, but less dense and less evenly balanced. His arms would be weak and his balance to specialized to change fast enough to defend. Additionally, he was a martial arts master by comparison. He had trained for his entire life and this rubbish about his 'spirit being ill-prepared' meant nothing coming from someone here.

Gohdal leapt up onto the desk and allowed Pavilon to miss. Pavilon adjusted and started coming up, hoping to pop Gohdal right in the sensitive spot. He made contact, but Gohdal made no reaction.

He said, "Not everyone keeps their balls on the outside".
Then pushed Pavilon back with a sharp shove with a leg.

The legs, Pavilon thought, are his strongest part by far. All his muscle is in the lower part of his body, he can't reach very far with punches but if I can avoid his kicking.
He doesn't have very much grace in movement, he doesn't seem to move very much at all, he is unseasoned. Probably took a few karate classes and thinks he can beat up the world.

Pavilon got up from the pile of overturned chairs and recomposed himself. His form was elegant, and he knew it. But being kicked halfway across the room was a lapse in judgement. He underestimated the professor's strength.
He ducked in close to push the professor over. And did so. If he could just avoid the legs now.

He kept low and swung around. Using landing kicks toward the professor. Leaping out of the way of his legs. But the professor didn't make any moves to issue one of his catapulting kicks. Pavilon assumed this was either a ruse, or it was because the professor actually couldn't kick very fast.

But the professor was blocking very effectively, and was being pushed back from the force of the hits. It was age 16 when he first killed someone, a right of passage of sorts.

As he spun his fists and kicks, he recalled that first kill with perfect clarity. At first the release, the relief. Then the for just an instant, the shock of actually killing someone, quickly buried under the blaze of victory...

"RIGHT THERE!", yelled the professor, breaking the cadence of the fight with a sudden, quick leaning back and then a catapult kick. Pavilon shot back. He broke focus, and the professor saw that. He never breaks focus. He couldn't allow that to happen again.

He got up and came to his feet, recomposed himself and began again. He had the speed, but he had to increase the force. He lost himself in the rage again and came back, low and spinning up a roundhouse kick.

Smash.
It shattered the board next to the professor's head. This was a warning, the next would be the kill.
The kill, he thought.

"AGAIN", yelled the professor the instant he detected the bloodlust and this time. Pavilon backed away enough to get knocked back with less force.

But the professor followed through with it and began a fast spinning attack toward Pavilon. Pavilon recognized this as similar to his own.
He saw the ante and raised it himself. He sped his own methods up and they were meeting fist-to-fist, foot-to-foot.
The power of Pavilon's technique was derived from rage. But he kept trying to anticipate the professor's.
The professor didn't Kiah, he screeched, and it was slightly distracting. But he'd also try to make all of his hits at nerve points. His technique was built on distraction, to break the focus. It was also because he had less upper-body strength than Pavilon. So he tried to use it as best as he could.
Since six, Pavilon was baptized in the fire of combat. An ancient art in an ancient land. But this battle went beyond physical combat, which Pavilon knew that if it went on long enough, he could win.
The professor had a way of detecting the seams in thought and exploiting them. Every time Pavilon would begin to loose a little fury, he would come in with his kick.
Pavilon was expecting this and landed gracefully, bouncing right back up.

"Your brothers are dying. I can see it in your eyes", said Gohdal.

The fight continued, Gohdal was being pushed back, but he was fast enough to block and dive.
He knew he couldn't sustain the roundhouse kicks so he would dive inward toward him to avoid them, rather than away. In close proximity to him, he could be hit with substantially less force by punches, and couldn't be hit by kicks.
Pavilon pushed him away easily the first two times. The professor was light. Then the professor duplicated his move. Pavilon did the same, got in closer to the professor to avoid it, which he did with ease. The professor's foot smashed through a desk as though it were water.
But then spun around and held his jaws agape and claws right at the lion's chest.
Pavilon in turn, had his claws against the professor's chest. Though he wasn't quite sure what to do about the jaws.

"Slice my chest and I'll still snap your neck.", said the professor.

Pavilon tried to push him off, but in doing so, it would put the professor in a position of being able to get his jaws over his head even more.
He could move his claws from his chest up to his neck, collapse his trachea with a swift punch, but even then, the professor would still have time to clamp down on his head and twist.

Pavilon pulled in his claws and the professor got off of him.

"I was not aware of fighters of this caliber here", said Pavilon.

"You are going to call me sensei, student.
I saw your eyes and I smelled your rage.
Rage will end you.
You may defeat me and anyone else, but rage will kill you just as it is killing your clan.
There will always be someone stronger. If not me, than a career martial artist, or a soldier, or a machine, or a Raja Borah, or a god.

So you need more than just strength and skill.", said the professor.

[Ciata]

Pavilon skipped the rest of his classes and welcoming activities. He was at a loss of what to do to distract himself from the activities of the day thus far. His normal activities were distant and distracting or only brought back more unpleasant memories. Training, what else would bring up the matter he was trying to forget just now and the war? Hanging out with friends? What friends here? He had no hangout to go to, had no idea where anyone else on campus was.

Sitting on his bottom bunk, pondering recent events, head down towards his knees, all he could think of is that he did need to get stronger, no matter what happened. He got up and took a few steps over to his belongings. Taking out a very heavy object, or objects rather, wrapped in many layers of red cloth, he sat it down on his desk and unfolded it while ranting to himself.
"Damn lizard, he thinks he knows, thinks he knows what it's like to actually fight for your life. It's not about smart talk or philosophies..."
He unwrapped the package, revealing 10 medium sized brass wrist training rings. He pulled out the cloths used to wrap them in and tied them around his wrists.
"My way is the way of war, my way if the way of rage. I'll be damned to hell twice if I ever bow to his self righteous ego."
He begun to slip on the rings, weighing almost 4 pounds a piece onto his wrists.
"He can say what he wants, I won't convert to his ways or his empty talk."
He slips on the final, smallest rings to keep them locked in place against the end one and his muscles, letting a little room for movement, resting snuggly on the padded wrist bands which kept them from clanking. He raises his brown paws now wrapped in bronze coils to his face.
"I will find a way to fight this war my way, some way to help my clan...or die trying."

He lowered his now weighted paws and looked about his room, still needing something to do. His eyes glanced across a piece of paper still on the desk from where he emptied his pockets a few nights ago, that now seemed like an eternity. On it was a number and a name, "Monty"

A couple hours later a thing, long haired hound somewhat anxiously entered a bar a few blocks from the campus. Dressed in baggy jeans and a white t-shirt and a jacket, Monty looked around for Pavilon, hoping to spot the lion. It was easier than he expected even, as he spotted the maned cat in the center of the dimly lit place sitting on a barstool. He loped over and sat in the chair to the lion's left up at the bar.

"Hey, good to see you again." He looked over after setting his elbows down on the counter and Pavilon turned on the stool to face him a bit, he in what was in his home a casual, average dress for a day after working in the hot sun in the desert, long sleeved white mandarin style shirt opened up all the way and simple black cloth pants. The sleeves on his shirt though were rolled up to give room for the brass weights on his wrists.
"You really are hardcore with your training, huh?" Monty pointed a finger at the weights and just got a dull,
"Not hard enough..." response.
"Hard to believe, you've got a model's physique there, you really probably could model, like you've got the build, the attitude, even the mane they could do something great with, I've got a cousin who's a model, they like the long fur sometimes..." Pavilon just looked at the bartender and pointed to Monty, who was consequently gifted with a shot of whiskey and the bottle left in front of him.
"Ooooohh...uuuuh, thanks, but I prefer the lighter hard stuff, like, mixed...fruity, tasty stuff. I prefer to drink for the taste you know, not so much to just go and get...."
"Loose." He was interrupted by Pavilon. "You need...to loosen up. Drink it, now."

"Eh..." The hound looked at it and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose at it. "I've really got to drive after this back to my apartment, it's like a mile and a half away from here and I just really don't need a spee..."
"Then let's go there if that'll make you more comfortable!" Pavilon simply let his arm fall after consuming another shot, which rattled the bar and Monty due to the weights.

"Oh...well if you really need to talk about something like you said, but I don't see how that would have much to do with getting..." He stopped as Pavilon stared at him, getting rather annoyed with his ramblings and excuses, not that he was in a good mood before this at all.

Pavilon stood up, pulled a money clip out of his inside pocket, and doing as he saw a cool cat do earlier, flipped off a couple bills onto the bar form it, and began to walk out of the bar.
He stopped at the door way and looked back at the bewildered afghan hound.
"You coming?"

"Oh...yeah, sure, my place, let's go."