Okay, So Not Quite Pistols...

Posted on Sat Dec 31st, 2022 @ 1:03pm by Beya & Chief Helmsman Kalahaeia t'Leiya & Evelyn Reynolds & Oliver Lucas

Mission: Mission 16: Hysperia
Location: Hysperia
Timeline: A few hours after 'Pistols at Dawn'
2676 words - 5.4 OF Standard Post Measure

The arena of choice for Ser Crispin Cuthbert Gerald Rufus III was something like an abandoned parade ground. Plenty of open space, but obviously disused. Evidently not much space for someone to hide or retreat to, but enough room for a decent crowd of onlookers.

Ser Crispin, by Oliver's count, had brought almost ten people in his entourage. Some of them he recognised as hangers-on from yesterday. Others looked like they'd been brought along to look intimidating, or to at least seem like he had a large backing.

Standing between Beya and Evelyn, Oliver was doing his best not to turn around and leave immediately; they'd already had a conversation that generally ended up with the ladies insisting they'd drag him kicking and screaming if necessary. He understood that they were defending his honor, but if Beya insisted on standing in for him, was it really that honorable?

"Look, there's loads of them. Maybe we should have called backup," Oliver said softly. "I'd have felt much better having Liha on the ridge with a sniper scope...just to make sure, you know..."

"Burnie," Beya corrected matter-of-factly. "Not that I expect to need him, but Burnie is actually a better shot - even Liha admits it. Plus, he makes his own specialty rounds. You're going to owe him a drink to ease the disappointment when he doesn't get to use them," she added with a small wink, then chuckled at Oliver's expression. "Don't look so surprised. I'm Orion. I grew up learning to expect the other side to cheat, and how to plan accordingly."

Evelyn, who had an implied role in this debacle that she simply refused to perpetuate, had ditched any attempt to abide by local fashion and was dressed far more casually as one half-inclined to muster cattle on horseback all day. Both hands slipped into her back pockets, her posture upright, the blonde sized up her once-protector's entourage with a singularly unimpressed eyebrow raised. "As much as I'm inclined to agree that he'll need this many to compensate for his own cowardice, surely this is overkill." She craned her head to check the area. "I wouldn't trust them to be the only ones either."

Beya glanced at the people in the entourage. "He wants to look like someone important, so he brought toadies." Beya shrugged. It wasn't that unusual a tactic; pretty standard in Orion culture actually, and half the job of the big guys was to come in and pull their guy back if decided to pretend to lose his temper and go nuts to cover the fact he was losing. She'd be fine with that outcome, though she doubted it would come to that.

"Undoubtedly an exaggerated sense of importance though I'd say." Kali smirked. Like Evelyn she was in a somewhat more practical outfit than she'd been wearing earlier; in her case still the velvety black leggings and boots, but with teal tunic that left less flowy pieces for anyone to grab at in a fight. " 'Ser Crispin Cuthbert Gerald Rufus III' just kinda practically screams 'minor house or minor member of' as far as names and titles go. Besides; Beya and I are probably worth a few of his goons each."

If it was a rather confident pronouncement since if they were locals Crispin's men would have grown up handling swords and knives, it wasn't necessarily a misplaced one, considering that Kali and Beya had also grown up handling a veritable spread of sharp objects, though she wasn't sure if Evelyn or Oliver had before. But besides wanting to provide backup (as probably one of the few members of the crew who'd been taught any culture's rules on how to fight a duel, even if it wasn’t this one’s rules) to cancel out some of Crispin's entourage, Kali had honestly at least halfway come just to see the results of an idiot deciding to fight an Orion.

Oliver was still on the cusp of just walking away when they finally approached the place in question. The looks of disdain he received from the Hysperian contingent stung, even though he was expecting it.

"The Borg brought his collective, I see..." Ser Crispin remarked snarkily. It was a comment that reddened Oliver's cheeks, with shame more than anything. "At least they'll witness this lesson." With an ostentatiously decorated velvet glove, he reached to draw a thin rapier from his belt, making as much of a show of proceedings as possible for his own entourage.

"Well, aren't you just precious," Beya said in tones the verbal equivalent of a stiletto. She lifted her arms, a move that gave a brief glimpse of metal under her cloak, and began tying her hair back. "No, Oliver can't be bothered dealing with every man-child who wants to claim he's faced a Borg. You'll be fighting me."

That stopped the Hysperian in his tracks. He looked between Oliver, then Evelyn, then Beya, befuddlement on his face. With all that said, he sharply realised that he was being watched for an answer, so he puffed himself up again. "How ridiculous. You are...you are a woman. It would not be a fair contest." His eyes swivelled to Oliver. "Have you no honor, you cur?"

Kali was practically burning to respond to the man's implication; but she forced herself to bite down firmly on the 'you're right, it wouldn't be a fair contest, you'd be overmatched' that was on the tip of her tongue. She wasn't the subject of this challenge, or the second, or the suggested champion. Still. If Beya didn't end up kicking the Hysperian's ass; she vowed silently she was going to challenge him herself after this and teach him a lesson.

Beya laughed - a light musical laugh as if the man had offered some amusing repartee. "It's your honor he's concerned with, ser. If you can't hold your own against a poor, weak girl like me," she pulled a small moue, "imagine how embarrassingly overmatched you'd be by our Oliver?" She unsheathed an Orion rapier - much like an earth tsai but with a longer central blade - and tossed aside her cloak to reveal a chain mail bikini, one worthy of a Conan fantasy cover, complete with green skin visible through the chain.

Whilst the other pair focused on the upstart and his onlookers, Evelyn had slowly gravitated to stand beside Oliver. From beneath the brim of her hat, the doctor quickly scanned the sea of faces and exerted exceptional control to prevent the hand by her side from curling into a fist. As much as it was important to her recovery to limit the use of the cane, which had become more of a psychological prop than a required support, she found herself wishing she'd brought it along after all. "They'll probably end up building a statue in her honour," she quipped quietly in reference to the Orion, though more as a means to cut through the tension. Glancing sideways, she studied his profile for a moment before adding, "You okay?"

Oliver looked down, knowing that at least the dirt at his feet wouldn't attempt to make eye contact. "Isn't the first rule of medicine 'do no harm'?" he asked softly. "I wonder if they teach that on Orion, or wherever Beya comes from."

There wasn't a lot to say to that. As far as Evelyn was concerned, the entire challenge was unnecessary and it wasn't lost on her that she'd been used as a prop, justification for this coward's small-minded hatred of things he clearly didn't understand. She frowned, sank into her own thoughts for a moment, and kept her silence.

Meanwhile, a stupefied Ser Crispin was pacing. He either looked a fool for turning down the duel with Oliver's appointed second, or he would be forced to engage this green woman in single combat. The latter was far less frought with risking his own honor.

"Very well. But I shall not take it easy on any friend of that one." He jerked his chin at Oliver, and flourished the rapier in his gloved hand. "I take no pleasure in harming an innocent. Even if you choose to defend that monstrosity."

This time it was Kali who, with a brief glare flicking towards Crispin, gave a much more sympathetic glance to Oliver, and then motioned over to try and guide him, Evelyn, and herself towards an area for observers, giving the main ring space. Viewed through the appropriate cultural context, the pilot’s near-complete lack of response to the pompous Hysperian - complete with making sure to languidly turn her back on him somewhat for a moment as she’d turned to Oliver - was more of an insult than any other actions or statements could have been, a clear implication of ‘you aren’t worth my time’ and ‘you aren’t a credible threat’.

"You think I'm innocent," Beya replied with a very Orion chuckle. "And that you can hurt me." She snickered, then thrust out her lower lip in a mock pout. "Aw, baby, I might have gone easy on you, but then you had to go and call my friend a monstrosity." She stepped forward, sword held in a deceptively causal half-guard. "Now I have to make you cry."

Partly confident, partly incredulous, Ser Crispin eyed her for a moment then puffed himself up again. "I dare say...what colour does a green woman blush? Or bleed..." he noted.

After a moment to let his insult land, he made a rather obvious lunge. It wasn't a fully committed attack, but rather one aimed at testing her reflexes and response.

From a distance in the observation area, Kali's eyes narrowed slightly at Crispin's move, and a subtle predatory smile with more than a touch of amusement settled over her face, considering the variety of ways she might expect an Orion to counter things. This...this should be quite interesting.

"I'm sure you'll never know," Beya said, though in a tone that was less retort than bored 'is that the best you can do?' as she casually parried and darted in with a quick riposte, slicing two buttons from his waistcoat and taking a touch of foppish finery from his sleeve as she nimbly danced back, ready to counter a response less obviously clumsy than that lunge.

Cursing in Hysperian, Ser Crispin flinched as he noted the tear in his tunic. She was better than he had accounted for, he was quickly realising. That meant he needed to finish her off even more quickly. He lifted the tip of his rapier and darted in again. This time he was more deliberate; instead of making the obvious lunge he turned with a feint and drove the tip of the weapon forward. Once again, he was surprised to miss his target, with the Orion woman deftly parrying again. Sensing that this was perhaps not going to turn his way, Ser Crispin turned his attention to Oliver instead.

"You...honorless thing! Thinking you can embarrass me like this? You should fight me yourself!"

Oliver, feeling the eyes on him again, shrank back wordlessly, waiting to see if Beya might actually kill this man.

Kali's eyes smoldered at Crispin's interjection: She'd been keeping quiet through his earlier comments; but if he was going to disregard any lines and propriety just to snipe at Oliver, well, two could play that game. "You should keep your attention on the woman with the blade; not the rest of us; but apparently they don't breed for braincells here." Kali called out to Crispin, making sure to raise her voice enough for it to carry not just to him but to his entourage.

Thus far, Evelyn had held her tongue, mostly out of deference for Oliver and her understanding of his utter repulsion at this amount of public scrutiny, but also because she didn't trust herself to maintain suitable decorum for a tourist and visitor who really didn't need to be drawing herself into legal issues. Her posture, chin angled in such a way as to redirect her gaze down the length of her nose, instinctively drew on the social poise of her ancestors and, for a moment, whereas Kali was fire and brimstone and acidic wit, Evie was a block of ice. Her unwavering stare hadn't left Crispin's face.

It is generally a bad idea to take your eyes off an opponent in fight. It is a particularly bad idea in a sword fight, especially when the opponent is fast, nimble and has a medical student's knowledge of anatomy. Kali mocking warning came too late - in fact, it added distraction allowing Beya an extra beat to move, which she did. With a vengeance. Her original idea was to humiliate him with 'undressing by a thousand cuts' but with the opportunity and the added insult to Oliver, well... A quick move slightly to the side away from Oliver, and therefore Crispin's gaze, flowed instantly into a rapid dart in and slice - ripping his tights and a decent depth of the skin beneath from inner thigh up to codpiece (and he was very lucky he'd worn a good one as she was quite of the opinion that his absence would be a boon to the gene pool). With a twist of her wrist and quick fleche was inside his guard with the tip of her sword pressing his throat. Tempting as it was to follow through, she stopped at only a prick. "Yield."

A sharp intake of breath from Ser Crispin's lips came with a yelp. His suddenly open stance meant his torn tunic pants were by his ankles and his arms were spread wide in visible defeat.

"I..." the Hysperian looked wide-eyed at the Orion woman. "I...y-yield..." he finally admitted. The humiliation of that statement was not lost on him. After all the bravado in the lead-up to this engagement, he was sorely and publicly beaten. He shuffled backwards, lowering his weapon so that he could scoop up his garments. Crimson-faced, he scurried back to his crowd of stunned onlookers.

The predatory little smile on Kali's face earlier now settled into something somehow both serene and edged at once; a vindictive satisfaction as the Hysperian yielded and retreated to his entourage, and she gave an approving nod and smile to Beya.

Nearby, Oliver, still feeling somewhat disappointed that it had all come to this, offered Beya an earnest nod of gratitude. "Thank you." He mouthed it, rather than making a noise.

"It was my pleasure," Beya replied, a broad satisfied smile evidence of the truth of that. "If he causes any more toruble, just let me know. I'll be glad to teach another," she tossed an evil grin over her shoulder at Crispin and his hangers on, "pointed lesson in common decency."

"One can live in hope that he's smarter than that," Evie observed, stone-faced. Already, the twitter of conversation was starting to grate, the shift in atmosphere bringing far too much scrutiny to bear on the group than was comfortable. And, if she was noticing it, then Oliver was likely suffering too. Drawing in a silent breath and holding it for a second, the blonde jerked her head in the direction of the marketplace. "Let's get out of here."

"Fair enough." Kali started to follow Oliver and Evelyn, but given the situation, she flipped a little pocket mirror open and held it angled just-so as she turned and started walking, keeping an 'eye' on Crispin and his crowd even with her back turned as they withdrew...just in case.

"Yes," Beya said as she finished cleaning her sword and sheathed it on the belt half covering the bottom of her chainmail bikini. "We can get drinks and maybe stop by the forge. I want to show Tomas how nicely my armor fits."