genessia | Anything Can Happen in the Woods

[There are so many people who told Winter she was just being paranoid by demanding that they keep watch over the camp, even with the majority of her trainees currently engaged in field exercises that took them into the main town or, for those not native to this realm, beyond to get acquainted with the other guardians and influential residents of this world.]

[So it's with a vague sense of self-righteous justification that she catches sight of the (unwitting) intruder who just happens to be straying a little too close to the campsite of the recruits. She sees the book in his hands, cracked open as if he's reading it. A pitiful excuse if ever she saw one; reading at this level of light is difficult. What's more, people don't read books and go on strolls. It's extremely suspicious, especially given how closely he's passing by the site.]

[She's heard rumors that there are diplomatic tensions between the elves and the monarchy in this realm. What makes her more suspicious is that he just seems so obvious, as if he were the decoy spy while the real ones edge closer.]

[There's a flash of movement in the treetops above Spock's head as Winter leaves her post, dashing nimbly and silently in the dark confines of the forest for signs of other scouts beyond this one. And yet, there aren't any. Perhaps she gave these elves too much credit, for if she were devising a strategy meant to spy on upcoming guardians of the royal family, that's surely what she would have done. So there's only one course of action left to her.]

[Detain the spy.]

[Another flash of movement. This time it's white wings as a softly glowing white bird skirts through the trees and perches, cocking its head as it stares down at Spock with four eyes, and squawks.]

[That's when his throat is kissed by the point of cold steel as Winter emerges from behind him and to the left, leveraging an icy stare at the side of his head.]

Halt.

[The white Nevermore is dismissed with a mere thought, fading into a swirl of glittering light.]

Your name, spy.

[There's a chance that Spock might not be quite as focused as he should be on the woods he's currently traversing. Theoretical physics, xenobiochemistry... That stuff is easy. Magic? Magic is a whole different game. There are rules and constructs, sure, but they're different for every world and there doesn't seem to be a common link, which makes no sense because there has to be something that unifies them. He's, for the first time in his life, struggling to comprehend what he's reading. The basic theories of different kinds isn't so bad so much as it's the immense variety there is. He has no idea which branch he's supposed to start with, or even which type covers the barriers and the crystals that were manufactured here, which is kind of key given that that's what he's currently trying to work on.

The bird he notices, but Fayren is full of strange creatures and it's keeping its distance, so he dismisses it. Winter, however, he does not. Whether it's his lack of usual attention or her stealthy moves he's unsure, but it doesn't much matter now. As soon as he feels the cool metal at his neck he freezes.

Traveling through space with Kirk, Spock is all too familiar with winding up in this kind of situation. Standard protocol is to raise your arms in an obviously non-threatening way, but given that he's carrying some thick books, that's a little tough. Instead, he lowers the book and shifts his foot thirty degrees. The movement is slow as he tries to make it clear that he is not planning on a confrontation. But like hell is he going to keep his side open to his attacker.

He turns his head the rest of the way to get a better look. He down glances at the blade first, no trace of fear on his face, before he looks at the assailant. Tall woman, white hair, blue eyes. A Schnee, most likely. He had heard another one had arrived. Looks like he's finally meeting her.]

You are mistaking in your identity of me. I am no spy. I was merely here to collect some texts from the elderly man that lives nearby. I did not mean to intrude on your property.

[Though he does have to wonder what exactly someone would be spying on over here, and why. The area seemed pretty deserted, though there was the chance that cloaking technology was in play.]

[Did his answer please her?]

[The heeled boot that slams into the small of his back says 'no.' It's intended to fling him onto his stomach, or at least his knees, so when all she manages to get is a stagger, her frown deepens, and the sword point moves again to the back of his neck. She has a point to make.]

I didn't ask for excuses. I asked for you name. Do not make me repeat myself!

[She bites the words off crisply. If only she'd seen a hint of the opal necklace, she might have been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But the woods are darkening, and all she's seen are the telltale points of what she assumes to be Elven ears.]

[Spock, while hoping to handle this civilly, was ready for an attack. In fact, his shifting towards her had also served to brace himself for an impact should one occur. So while the kick to his back wasn't expected, per se, it wasn't surprising, either.

The strength she possessed, however, was.

He slowly turns to face her fully this time (one bruise was enough, thank you very much), movements deliberate to try to emphasize once again that he is not a threat. The tip of the blade is now at the front of his neck. He's still vulnerable, sure, but he has a better chance of finding an opening facing her should the need arise.

Now, Spock is smart. He's a genius. Most of the time. Maybe it's the human side of him, maybe it was his time spent around Kirk. Regardless, instead of doing the smart thing and explaining who he is, he resists.]

Are you aware that it is a crime to attack a civilian, Miss Schnee?

[Winter's secret semblance is to attract people who fail to do the smart thing even when they should just because it'll piss her off. She's weighed the limited information she's been given: Elf, suspicious reading of books at a time of day where reading is impractical when navigating the forest, unexpected fortitude to resist her kick, turning to face her to (obviously) gain a combat advantage, refusal to obey a simple command. It all adds up to 'spy.']

You are no mere civilian.

[As she bites off the last word, she lunges at him. It's fortunate (for both of them) that she intends to take him alive and pump him for information, for it's not the point of her blade she levies at his chest. Instead, her wrist pivots as she aims to drive the butt of the sword against his head to stun him or even knock him out.]

[Welp. So much for civility.

Spock manages to deflect the blow with the leather-bound book in his left hand and gives it a shove. She only moves back a little bit, but it's enough. He quickly slips the books from his right hand on top of the one in his left as he steps towards the hand with the blade, grabbing it with his now free hand. He continues moving to behind her and twists her arm behind her back, grip on the wrist tight. He gives it an even firmer squeeze to try to encourage her to drop the blade.]

Your statement is not entirely untrue; I am technically a first officer for Starfleet.

[But so long as he's here he's technically also just a civilian.]

Ngh! That name means nothing to me!

[It does sound Elven, to be fair, what with their love for all things celestial. She's uncertain if 'fleet' refers to a collection of ships, or agility of foot, but it matters little. He's refused to identify himself and resisted arrest.]

[He's going down.]

[Dismayed as she is at having her blade forced out of her hand, Winter is by no means helpless without it. Her left foot shoots backward, driving her heel along the ground between his legs before she kicks out in an attempt to upset his balance. Winter turns her hip into his, pivoting, and lashing out at him with the side of her left hand in a fierce chop aimed at his throat.]

Rrgh!

[Spock had run through multiple scenarios about how Winter might retaliate, but none of them had included her thrusting her leg back like that; it seemed like an awkward move, but he has to admit from his place on the ground that is was quite effective. She'd managed to make him lose his footing enough that the chop sent him down rather ungracefully.

It had also hit him right in the trachea so that's great. His voice is a little hoarse when he speaks.]

That is because Starfleet does not operate here. Here, I am merely a civilian which you are needlessly assaulting.

[He decides to even the playing field and swipes a leg into her ankles, already in motion to either get up while she stumbles a little or, ideally, pin her down once she joins him on the Earth.]

You refused a direct order from the captain of the Royal Guard!

[Winter snarls up at him, her steely blue eyes flashing and completely unafraid, even as the weight of his body presses hers down. His grip is unnervingly strong on her wrists. She had supposed the elves to have sacrificed physical might for agility and mental fortitude. That he should have such might is profound, and idiotic!]

[But strength alone does not win fights. Winter hooks a long leg around his waist and twists her hips, using momentum to shift their positions and put him flat on his back as she straddles him. Her arms shake with the strain to break loose as she grits her teeth, frustration and anger starting to break through her icy and professional exterior.]

When I ask for your name, I shall have it!

[Abruptly she reverses the pull of her wrists into a push. But if that fails, woe unto he that is unable to dodge in time as Winter aims to drive her knee directly into his diaphragm.]

[Spock grunts when he's suddenly flipped onto his back. He really hadn't expected her to be so strong given the her build. When she pulls back, his hold on her remains firm, though he is struggling to hold her. He's able to maintain his grip when she suddenly pushes, though he's not able to block the blow to his torso that knocks the wind out of him.]

Perhaps if you had asked in a polite way, Captain, I might have given it.

[There's an acidity to that word when he spits it out. There's only one captain he answers to. He takes a breath and throws himself to the left, the force putting him back on top, his face directly in front of hers.]

Your Royal Guard holds no jurisdiction over me.

And why should I show civility to a spy?

[She snarls right back at him, breathing hard, pumping each warm breath from between her grit teeth onto his jaw. Pressed as close together as they are, he can most certainly feel the rapid pounding of her heart. But she can't feel his. Under other circumstances she might not be so angry that she fails to notice this imbalance of internal organs.]

[Winter struggles beneath him, but with his knee pinning her thigh, she can't get the same leverage on him that she had before.]

[It seems she's left with little choice. If he thinks he's bested her simply by removing her mobility, he's in for a surprise. Behind him, a large glowing white glyph emerges and begins to spin. An enormous paw, tipped with long dagger-like claws, begins to push through. Winter smiles triumphantly.]

You will regret your disrespect.

[Spock was going to insist once more that he isn't a spy, but those final words she says are so full of confidence that they're almost chilling. Combine that with the fact that she's ceased her struggles and her heart rate has calmed far too much for someone as stressed as she should be, Spock can only conclude that she's planning something. But as to what, he can't be certain. So he reviews the evidence.

Schnee. Captain of the Royal Guard of Fayren. Presumably good with a blade, stronger than she appears to be, and a decent fighter. She's totally pinned and weaponless. Which means the only thing she could theoretically be using is-

Of course, Royal Guard of Fayren. She has magic. He just has to figure out what she's planning and then he can - He can see the reflection of light in her eyes. He can see the blue of her eyes. This dark he shouldn't be able to see much; something nearby is emitting light.

He looks around, and when he casts a glance over his shoulder just in time to see the front half of a bear-like creature appearing. He's not sure what it is, but he's willing to bet that it's on Winter's side. Time to end this.

Quick as he can, he slides both of Winter's wrists securely into his left hand above her head.]

I had hoped to refrain from using this on you, but you have left me no choice.

[His right hand clamps down where her neck meets her left shoulder and suddenly applies immense pressure, pinching the nerve, which should render her unconscious and hopefully get rid of whatever that other thing is.]

[The Ursa's massive body lumbers toward the pair, the tips of its claws nearly touching the ground. Winter resists as he pins both of her hands, but to no avail.]

[Then there's a sudden shock, as if someone just slammed a steel rod through her skull and into her neck. It's not painful so much as it is jarring, and her dark lashes spring open wide as her lips part with a little gasp.]

Ah...!

[Her eyes roll back as her body goes limp beneath the Vulcan, her head lolling to the side as her consciousness is stolen, and her Aura snaps. Behind him, the Ursa with the paw upraised and ready to swat Winter's assailant aside, begins to dissolve into small particles of glittering powder. From foot to head it disintegrates, and the glyph fades, leaving the forest dark and silent save for Winter's slow, quiet breaths.]

[Spock remains unmoving for a moment after she loses consciousness, partially to make sure she's really down for the count and partially to catch his breath. The darkness enshrouding him tells him that whatever she was doing has ceased, so he takes that as a sign that it's safe for him to get off of her. He has no idea how close he was to getting maimed, but that's a fact that he's okay with not knowing. Though perhaps in the future it would be good to learn how long it takes for the full summon. Come to think of it, there's a lot he could stand to learn about what she does.

He rises, straightens his shirt, and looks down at her limp form. They're rather far out from civilization still, so calling for a cab won't work, and he's unfamiliar with all of the creatures that lurk in these woods so he can't leave her there. She attacked him, sure, but it was clearly a misunderstanding. Besides, he doubts Weiss would take kindly to him knocking her out and leaving her for dead. Only one thing to do, really.

He walks back over to where he had lost his tomes in the battle and gathers them in one arm and picks up Winter's sword with the other. Returning to her, he kneels down and slips the blade back into its sheath and temporarily places the books down next to her to free his arms. He wraps his arms around her, one under her back and the other under her thighs and hoists her over his shoulder. Once he has her securely in place, he crouches to pick up his books, struggling for a second to grab them both in a way that he can carry them under his free arm. It's not ideal, but so far as he can tell it's the best course of action to take presently. If something attacks him he'll have to drop the books (again - the man is going to kill him) in favor of grabbing his blaster, but again, pickings are slim right now.

It takes about half an hour to make it back to Fayren, and another fifteen minutes has passed by the time he's able to get a room at the inn, assure the innkeeper that no, they do not require an ambulance, and place her on a bed.

He should probably go, given that she's hell bent on killing him, but he just has so many questions. He stands by the side of the bed contemplating his next course of action when she begins to rouse. Looks like his decision is made for him. He takes a couple of steps back before she fully comes to as to not alarm her immediately upon her awakening.]

[She's awake. She pretends she isn't, only long enough to gather her senses and make a quick assessment of her situation. The distant sounds of the tavern room below are familiar to her, so that's a bonus. Her hands are not restrained, nor does she seem to be in any immediate danger.]

[She opens her eyes, her gaze bleary at first, but quickly sharpening into focus once her study of the room turns to Spock. Her eyes narrow, but she doesn't go for his sword, nor does she summon any of her glyphs to bear. Instead she sits up slowly, still regarding him with suspicion, but more at ease when she sees that he's keeping a respectful distance.]

[Carefully she sifts through the facts. He brought her to a public place, rather than leaving her in the woods or taking her back to his camp. He must be capable of greater strength and endurance than the average person if he managed to bring her all this way. He has no visible weapons, and brought none to bear when she attacked him.]

[Winter concludes that he is not an enemy spy. Slightly mortifying, but one in her position cannot afford to be too trusting. What concerns her, however, is why he bothered to show mercy, and waited for her to awaken.]

...Explain.

[Winter is the soul of brevity.]

[Spock watches silently as she processes her current situation. She doesn't look to be making any sort of move to attack him, so that's promising. She also doesn't seem to be injured from their scuffle, which also good since he didn't want to cause her serious harm. He's keeping just as watchful of an eye on her though as she is him, since she can apparently summon glowing bears without notice.

He appreciates the to-the-point word choice; it's a nice change from what he's used to. What he doesn't appreciate is her still demanding information of him. Standing straight and tall, he tucks his hands behind his back.]

I believe that you are the one who should be explaining things to me; you attacked me unprovoked. [He pauses for the briefest of moments.] However, if you are referring to how you came to be here, I brought you. We are in room 202 of The Dancing Donner.

[She watches him shrewdly, wanting to make certain he holds no weapons behind his back. It seems he's just maintaining an 'at ease' position, however, so Winter internally relaxes. The muscle that spans from shoulder to neck is a little sore, but she resists the temptation to rub at it.]

Hm. Very well.

[So long as he exhibits no signs of hostility. Winter swings her legs over the edge of the bed and rises smoothly, slowly, not wanting to show signs of dizziness or weakness. Once she's assured her balance is not at risk, she too clasps her hands behind her back.]

You exhibited several suspicious behaviors -- an unusually close proximity to the training site of our new recruits, reading at a low level of light while navigating the forest, and a refusal to supply your name when asked. Are you aware that there are diplomatic tensions between the reigning monarchy and the elven tribes of Fayren?

[He doesn't seem to be. If he wasn't before, he is now, and Winter continues.]

The possibility that you were a potential threat was greater than the possibility that you were not. Thus, I sought to detain you for more information.

[Her words are calm and composed, her gaze level. No smiles here.]

If you are not an elven spy, then why have you not given your name?

[Spock watches her closely as she stands, content when he discovers it looks like they're finally going to have an actual discussion. Honestly if she had just agreed to this in the first place it could have saved him a lot of trouble.

He listens dutifully to her explanation. While not totally riddled with holes in its logic, it is far from perfect.]

I was unaware that there was a training camp in the vicinity; it is not labeled on the map of Fayren. As I stated earlier, I was only there to pick up a couple of books from a local man. As I am not from Fayren, nor do I frequent it often, I was also unaware of the strain between the elves and the monarchy, though I am unsurprised; those systems of government tend to cause strife.

[And now onto the weird part.]

I fail to see how you would assume me to be an elven spy, though. It would be far more logical to conclude that I would be a spy for my people, or of Starfleet for whom I am an officer of. Why did you presume that I would assist the elves of this land?

[Do pointy ears just mean elf to everyone? Because it sure seems like it.]

Of course it would not be labeled on any map. The training of the royal guard is a confidential matter. It would be foolish to leak information about the identities and abilities of the recruits training to guard the royal family.

[Does she sound condescending? Her face is impassive, there's no telling if she means to be or not.]

You claim that you are not of this land. You were drawn to Genessia by force, then? Do you have proof?

[As for his own question, surely he can't be serious.]

You share many physical traits, enough that it would be the most likely conclusion. If you are not an elf, then what are you? And what is this Starfleet you speak of?

[She supposes if he were a spy, he might have gone to greater lengths to hide the point of his ears, be it with a wig or a hat. But he could just be a very stupid spy, she can't dismiss that as a possibility.]

Oh course it would be a poor tactical plan to share the location of a base of operations, however to assume that any who cross through there must be spies then is flawed since they would have no way of knowing that they were trespassing.

[Case and point.

Proof that he's not from Genessia? Easy. He unfolds his hands from behind his back to have one reach into the neck of his shirt. He lifts it back out, clasping the chain on which his almost-entirely red pendant is hanging and somehow stands a little straighter at the accusation of resembling an elf.]

I am no elf; I am Vulcan.

[That explains everything, right?]

I work for Starfleet, which is an exploratory and defensive program run by the United Federation of Planets. The ship I am assigned to, the USS Enterprise, is currently on a five year mission "to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before."

[He tucks the pendant back into his shirt and clasps his hands once more behind his back.]

As you can see, I hold no allegiance to the inhabitants of this planet.

If you possess any military experience, then you know that making the opposite assumption would be far more dangerous, even careless. Had you given your name, I would have been able to cross-reference the directory to verify your identity, and there would have been no altercation.

[So there.]

[Her eyebrow arches slightly (and coincidentally) at his mention of being a Vulcan. It's not a race she's heard of before.]

...While I cannot speak as to your exploration experience, you are at least rather bold.

[And she's glad to see the necklace. Not thoroughly convinced, as he could have obtained it from another who was killed or removed from this place, but the evidence is far more stacked in his favor than before.]

I am satisfied with the evidence that you are not a direct threat, at least in the way I initially suspected. I would ask that you avoid the site in the future, however, and keep the details of what you witnessed tonight as confidential for the sake of security.

Edited 2017-11-29 20:40 (UTC)

[They could debate the right course of action all day at this rate, so he's just going to let her have this one even though there had to be a far more efficient way to vet trespassers besides accosting them.]

Vulcans do not let fear bind their actions. We weigh our possible options and their likely consequences, then select the most logical course of action. You asked why I did not give you my name earlier. The information at hand was that someone was threatening me for information and, as a ranking officer in Starfleet, I have been instructed not to divulge any information which could potentially be used against them no matter what cost it may have on me. The good of the many outweigh the good of the one.

Needless to say, I understand why you wish the camp to remain a secret and I assure you I have no interest in sharing what I have discovered; I am a neutral party in these affairs.

[And that seems to him like a conclusion to the "why did you attack me/why did you resist my questioning" discussion, so after a pause he adds one thing.]

My name is Spock.

[No fear. A pity Vulcans are not a part of remnant, he would make an exquisite Huntsman if he felt so inclined. She does seem to be put at ease by his reassurance, and while she wouldn't go so far as to say she trusts anyone in this world completely, she's at least decided that this Vulcan will not put the monarchy in jeopardy, nor her recruits. She's satisfied.]

[Her head inclines, both in gratitude and introduction.]

Captain Winter Schnee. But it appears you were already aware of my identity.

[She'll still check his name against the directory just to be absolutely certain, but later.]

I admit to harboring curiosity as to your race, as you are the first I have encountered. However, my queries are of a personal nature, and may be dismissed as such.

[How much he's at liberty to divulge, she doesn't know, but he seems miserly with information so she would assume that Starfleet is strict about such things.]

[Spock gives an affirmative nod at her assumption.]

I perform research at the Genessia Scientific Research Foundation which is headed by your sister. I had heard that that another Schnee had arrived and you resemble her greatly.

[Well, in looks. Personality was way different.]

I am the only of my kind currently residing on Genessia. Depending on the nature of your inquiries, I may be amenable to answering them.

[He's not about to tell her his weak spots but if she has questions about the race or the culture he's definitely willing to share that, especially after what happened to Vulcan.]

I am also interested in learning about the nature of the beast you were calling before and how you were able to do so if you are inclined to share.

[Curiosity becomes interest when he names himself as part of the research team. While her sister may be resolved to staying in this world, Winter has been secretly miserable since she first arrived, and nothing about the situation has improved. She would very much like to return home. If he is striving to make that hope into a reality, then he may have earned himself a dedicated ally.]

Correct. I am Weiss's elder sister.

[She doesn't expand on that, since he didn't ask. But she's pleased to see that he doesn't seem to think poorly of Weiss.]

Very well. I noticed that your strength is what would be considered as 'above average' compared to most others. Does your biology differ vastly from that of humans?

[Though she isn't asking him to point out his weaknesses, she's nonetheless interested in his biological make-up.]

I am also interested in the societal traditions of your kind. What is considered respectful, and what would constitute rudeness? Have you had many dealings with other species before arriving here?

[It's actually more questions than she usually asks anyone. But as he gave her some liberties, she feels more at ease ~~interrogating~~ getting to know him better.]

The creature I called is known as an Ursa. ...However, details of my abilities are considered confidential for matters of royal security.

[It doesn't mean she won't answer, but she needs some sort of reassurance that he can keep the details to himself.]

Has Weiss told you anything about the matter?

[Those are acceptable questions.]

Vulcan and humans are not entirely dissimilar; in fact there is a theory that all humanoid planets were inhabited by the same species and they each evolved into different beings and as such are compatible beings. However, there are several differences. For instance, human blood, being iron based, is red; Vulcan blood is copper based so it is red. Vulcans are also, as you have noted, much stronger than humans. There are several other differences as well, however going through them in depth would take up much time.

[He has files on Vulcan biology if she's really itching to learn about all there is to know.]

It would be impossible to go into all of my culture's customs in one sitting as well, so I'd ask you to select an or two area you are most curious to learn more about so that I may impart the knowledge which you find most intriguing onto you.

[Seriously, there are so many different parts to a culture. Unless she wants to stand in this room for a month she's going to have to narrow it down.]

For the most part, what is considered rude is what is disrespectful. For example, meditation is an extremely important part of Vulcan culture. Knowingly interrupting that for an insignificant reason is, how you say, frowned up. Likewise, allowing one to practice their meditations undisturbed is considered respectful. It is my understanding that this type of encounter holds true for humans as well.

[This might be the most that Spock has spoken in a year.]

My work with Starfleet has taken me many places, and as such I have had dealings with a large number of different species, and we are constantly discovering new settlements. In addition, the ship I serve on has a highly diverse crew.

[He finally pauses, recalling what he knows of Weiss' abilities.]

Miss Schnee made a post on the network three months back where she stated that she was able to summon the spirits that she had eliminated during the last breach. She divulged that she could only summon that which she had killed. No further details were provided.

[If she doesn't want to divulge more, he's not going to push. If it's confidential it's confidential. Besides, it doesn't seem to be directly related to his research.]

[Winter listens silently, and though her expressions don't register, it's nonetheless obvious that she's attentive and interested. Those who can best her in combat are rare; rarer still are those who can best her and still treat her as an equal peer. He is interesting.]

On what subject do you focus when you meditate?

[It isn't something she's ever tried before. ~~But maybe she should.~~]

[She considers his remarks carefully as she tries to decide how much information she should share about summoning. It seems that Weiss hasn't made it much of a secret, so she supposes there's no great harm discussing it if he's truly curious. She turns her gaze away from him and steps forward, slowly pacing to the window and glancing outside. No sign of any of her recruits, but it's rather dark and difficult to see the majority of them. Only the wink of Navi's light or Hamusuke's unmistakable form would be noticeable now and she sees neither.]

I was uncertain if our semblance functioned on anything other than the Grimm. It seems we are not so limited.

[Winter turns from the window, hands still behind her back, but her attention back on Spock as she paces back once more.]

It is a hereditary ability, unique only to my family line. Our mother could summon as well. We are able to change the size of our summoned companions, but little else.

[She holds out one hand, palm up, allowing a small silvery glyph to pirouette above her fingertips. There's a flutter of snowy wings as a Nevermore the size of a robin shoots out, taking flight about the room in swoops and swirls.]

As Grimm, they are soulless abominations who feast on the flesh of humankind, though they draw no sustenance from this macabre gluttony. But once felled by our hand, they are faithful companions who may fight at our sides.

[She lifts her hand and the Nevermore gracefully alights on her wrist.]

[Were Spock aware of her thoughts, he would counter that it is she who is the interesting one. There are very few humans who are able to go from a rage to a very calm conversation so quickly (even if there was a bout of unconsciousness in there).]

The focus of the meditation depends on the purpose of the meditation. An active meditation might require attention to a symbol, while a passive one might just have the user focusing on their breathing. There is also some degree of variation as to what works for each person. Though our minds may think logically, we are nonetheless unique individuals with our own thought processes, so there is no universal subject that works for all of us. Were you interested in meditating yourself?

[He'd be willing to help guide her in the process until she's able to do it on her own if she wishes it.

Spock's gaze was focused on Winter until the Nevermore appeared. He's never seen anything like it, and he's immensely curious. He walks over to get a closer look, studying the detail in it.]

Fascinating. I have never heard of such an ability before. I am very curious of the process it takes to acquire the use of one and the technique you use in your summoning. [As well as how it actually works, but he'll get there. His gaze shifts back up to hers.]

Is it alright for me to touch it? [While that's normally not his gig, he's dying to know what it's made out of because both the bird and the bear seemed to be composed of the same matter despite being entirely different creatures.]

Perhaps. If the time invested happened to be worth the results, I would certainly consider the practice.

[She does have a temper, after all, as Spock experienced firsthand just a short time ago. But it does depend on how long she has to meditate if that time could be better spent on drills and exercises to strengthen her body and improve her skills. It's all about efficiency.]

[After demonstrating her talent, she's inwardly pleased as she watches the subtle hints of fascination in his voice and eyes. While his countenance might not change much, she can see the complexities of his reaction enough to feel a swell of pride.]

The process of acquisition is simple, if barbaric. Once the Grimm has been slain, the experience is imprinted upon my soul. It is a memory that remains with me, and manifests at my behest.

[In that regard, she's always seen her summoned creatures as physical manifestations of her triumph and strength, rather than enslaved spirits. Grimm have no souls, so it seems unlikely to her that these would be servants of reincarnation]

[His request prompts a little smile from Winter.]

Certainly. Extend your hand to me.

[She lowers her arm, stretching out her gloved fingertips to touch Spock's hand. Her wrist flexes to coax the white bird to sidle over his knuckles with small clawed feet. Its head tilts and turns as it flutters its wings. It's cool to the touch, but not frozen, and up close it's really not all that pretty unless he's fond of four-eyed freakish monstrosities with feathers. But at such a small size, it's a little cuter than its house-sized counterpart, and she isn't flinging it into his eyes. It regards Spock steadily with glittering blue eyes. 'AWK.']

I highly recommend it. It provides many benefits.

[Though it may prove more beneficial to Vulcans, he firmly believes that most species would benefit from practicing it.

He does as she instructs, watching intently as the Nevermore moves onto his hand. It's cold, which is certainly unexpected. Though rather fitting of someone named Winter. It may not be the most aesthetically pleasing thing, but Spock is fascinated all the same. He idly wonders if it's white and blue to match her motif, or if that's just the default.

There is one thing that's troubling him, though.]

It is a shame that the only way to obtain one is to kill. Whether or not these Grimm cause harm, it is a pity to have to take a life.

[The faint smile that adorned her countenance fades. While she is fond of her Grimm, the same cannot be said for the ones she's felled with her blade.]

They're not what you could consider to be 'alive.' I suppose your definition may vary, for they possess some sense of self-preservation and strategy when they hunt to kill, depending on the species.

[Her face is stony and serious now.]

They are not formed from organic matter, but fashioned of spite. Malice. Fear. They embody every negative emotion, and are drawn to such things in kind. They feed on flesh, but it provides no sustenance. For them, it is simply enough to destroy mankind.

[She takes a few slow paces to the window, gazing beyond it for a moment.]

But...generally speaking...I do not find any great pleasure in the taking of a life.

[Spock frowns at this information, returning his attention to the Nevermore.]

We do not have a creature like that in my universe, but I am not certain that Vulcans would do them harm unless out of self-defense. We prefer to live a nonviolent life and try not to kill unless necessary. However your ability to bring the creature back is not covered by the Logic of Surak, who begs the question "Can you return life to what you kill?" Until now, I had thought the notion to be largely impossible with a few exceptions - the fact that we who have been brought here can come back is one of them. But I have never encountered anyone who can summon that which has been slain. You can bring it back, yes, but first you must harm it, which Vulcans are largely against. And since they fight for you instead of against you, one could presume that it is not the same creature at all.

[He looks back up to her.]

You posses a very unique talent, Captain Schnee, but I am not sure what to think of it.

[A nonviolent life. There's a small pang of jealousy inside of her at the thought of an entire race that is able to live their lives in peace, without fear of these creatures breaking into their villages and destroying their homes, only to eat what never needed to be eaten.]

For those with such pacifistic beliefs, you are strangely capable in combat.

[There's a question nested in her words, and in the slight arch of her brow. Why learn to fight if life is truly so precious? She turns from the window.]

It may be the same creature; it may not. I'm aware that the matter has sparked some rather intense debates here in Genessia.

[Most know what Weiss can do; not many know that Winter shares her talents.]

In any case, whatever your opinion may be, know that the skill was not engineered for the praise of others. It is a means of protection, for myself as well as the people of Atlas. I use it with pride, and without hesitation.

Are you finished with your examination?

As a member of Starfleet, it is important that I am able to defend myself should the necessity arise. [And boy has it.] You may have noted that I never moved in a way as to kill you. Had I desired, when I had you pinned down, I could have cut of your airways. Instead of delivering a lethal blow, I chose to nerve pinch you. Just because I am able to fight does not mean that I prefer it.

[He nods at her query. While he's still not certain what to make of it, it does make him feel better than she utilizes it for protection, and it sounds like that's the only reason she fights them at all. While in an ideal world you could defend your home without having to kill, he recognizes that no where does such an ideal world exist.]

I appreciate you allowing me to study it. It is quite remarkable.

[There's just a hint of a brow twitch from Winter. She might be a little bitter about losing that fight. But she doesn't say anything, and only holds her chin just a touch higher. If she'd been fighting to kill, he might not have pinned her in the first place, but she's not about to engage in a debate about which of them is more deadly. The fact is, he won, and he was fairly gracious about it in bringing her here instead of dumping her in the woods or, worse, at the campsite in full view of her men. She never would have lived it down.]

I'm pleased you think so.

[She waves her hand to dismiss the Nevermore, its form dissolving into small glittering pieces to be summoned another day. She'd call it a night, but there's one more thing she wants to finish discussing first.]

What are the merits of meditation for your kind?

[Spock didn't realize how prideful Winter was about her loss. He'll try to steer clear of bringing it up in the future.

He watches in awe as the Nevermore is dismissed. Such an interesting process.]

My kind meditates for several reasons. It can be to clear one's mind, to increase concentration or sharpen perception, to allow emotional control, and make unconscious processes accessible the conscious mind, and more. I believe that the first few should be obtainable to humans, though I am uncertain if they are able to achieve control over their unconscious processes.

[It can also help strengthen telepathic bonds, but he's not quite ready to share that tidbit yet. He's relatively certain that she can be trusted but he'd rather be absolutely certain before divulging it.]

I see.

[It seems that many of the benefits would be valuable. She does have a few hours in the evening after the final meal before she allows herself to rest. That would be the perfect time to relax and soothe her mind to ensure the maximum results of a solid eight hours of sleep.]

Then if your schedule happens to align with mine, I would not be averse to learning the proper techniques. Heightened perception is invaluable during a time of crisis.

[She clasps her hands lightly behind her back. He implied that it was likely unavailable to humans, but to Vulcans, she's curious.]

And to what 'processes' of the unconscious do you refer?

Very well. Is there a day and time that best suits you?

[He sizes her up. He supposed there's minimal harm in divulging it if she's interested in taking up meditation herself.]

The hormonal activity within the Vulcan body can be regulated consciously by those of us who have mastered it. This allows such individuals to control hormones such as adrenaline, thyroid, and other metabolic systems which, in turn, allows us to alter our heart rate, oxygen consumption, and other bodily resources.

[Impressed yet?]

This training also gives Vulcans some restorative abilities, allowing us to control our bodies to repair internal or structural damage at an accelerated rate while in an autohypnotic state. We are also capable of surviving for much longer durations than a human can without food or sleep.

[None of it is said in a bragging way - it's all very matter of fact.]

[Confidential. ...But she's the one who asked him, so there's no harm in divulging her duty schedule.]

Fridays are my assigned preparation days. Beyond that, the majority of my free hours are spent at the training camp, which would make a rendezvous somewhat inconvenient for you.

[So pretty much just Fridays.]

[She listens with interest as he lists what the Vulcans can do. It's rather impressive, truth be told, and the self-repair sounds somewhat similar to her use of Aura to recover from injury. When he'd said 'hormonal control' she assumed at first that it merely concerned that of sexual attraction. But it's far more useful than that, she sees.]

Understood. Then it is quite clear as to why it would be considered a great rudeness to interrupt one's meditative state. I have no further questions.

I teach Friday mornings then typically head over to the Genessia Scientific Research Foundation to perform some research so I am usually not available until the evenings. As the research does not need to be conducted at certain times unless the experiment I am currently running dictates that it must be, I am able to go there later in the day if Friday afternoon is more convenient than the evening.

[He gives her a nod; it's good that she gets it.] Should any other questions arise you are welcome to contact me.

Then it seems I will be setting aside the necessary time for a Friday evening, to be determined at a later date.

[It's practically a date night, if she were the type to recognize the significance of Friday evening meetings. Unfortunately, she is not.]

[Seeing as how they've both concluded the conversation, Winter inclines her head and turns to go. But as she nears the door, it occurs to her that there is one last thing she should say before she departs. She pauses, then turns her head.]

I apologize for misunderstanding your intentions. Whatever the cost of the room, I insist that you send the bill to my personal account for full compensation.

[It's her own paranoia that resulted in this mess, after all.]

[It's okay, Winter; they can be clueless together.

He gives a nod at her offer.]

I will do that. However the payment is for the night, so should you wish to make use of it you are able. It is late to be heading home.

[It's late for him to go back too, but the archway to Genessia City is close, and things are pretty normal over there. Fayren has all sorts of weird things that go bump in the night and he has no idea how far from here she lives.]

Your generosity is appreciated. However, I must attend to my duties and return to our camp.

[Besides, he's got a much further distance to travel if he's made his home in one of the other cities. The room is registered in his name; he's free to do with it as he wills.]

I would advise travel during daylight; however, you've demonstrated that you're perfectly capable of defending yourself from assault. I have little concern for your safety in this realm. Good night.

It is a short walk; I do not foresee myself encountering any trouble. [There's usually less when Kirk isn't around.] I will inform the innkeeper that the room has been vacated then.

[He allows her to leave before him so that he can be certain that the room is indeed vacated.]

Good night, Captain Schnee.

Anything Can Happen in the Woods

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Let me know if I god-modded too much I can adjust!

Issa perfecto!

Yay!

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she'll get his name eventually I swear

/hoards hers until he does

imagine they both just refused until the other one does

He already knows half her name!

I'd say good enough but this is Spock

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long post is long!

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