Mission Improbable

[Tuesday]

"Alighty then." Tuesday nods, confused hazels locked on to the fingers folding the paper. "I'll regale you with the epic ballad that is the History of the Unicorn. Eventually. Gotta come out in Acts right?" a finger reaches to scratch her nose, which ruins Tuesday's attempt at a cheeky smirk. "But same's true for you. Since you're you. And my cabalmate and all that jazz."

Tuesday doesn't give Avis jazz hands. She doesn't.

"Vibeage. Yeah. I get it. It's why I followed Star home. We just clicked. Got on epically...and sorta but not any sort of sorta about it, ditched Wayland. And before that. I fumbled with Fisher, but called a do over since Acanthus and I can totally get a social rewind. Not a mojo rewind. I can't do that. Yet. But you get it." Words tumble out of her mouth, "It's okay if I was doing something and didn't know if anyone was watching or pounced on my alone time I woulda snapped too. So. It's all good." a lazy lopsided smirk proved to the warlock the truth of her words.

Then the Origami Unicorn. "I'm gonna treasure this always." tone solemn, as a finger nudged the tiny paper creation.

A full blown grin grew when 'our lessons' was spoken. Not that she'd teach the Unicorn, but the already planning and it's totally happening tone.

"Fine." Tuesday tried to sound resigned or aggrieved, but the grin completely ruined the effect. "Buuut I can't promise I won't verbalize a 'pew' or two when I'm actually shootin'"

Tuesday was vibrating in her chair. This was goinna be awesome~!

[Avis]

"We better get you your own bow then," Avis declared after a moment of consideration. "I don't want you to pew all over mine."


Avis snapped her notebook closed again and stood with a quiet dignity that only reflected how far beneath her it was to have someone pewing all over their instrument of war.

We're going shopping. But on the way, I want you to tell me more about what you heard about the big Arrow, because aunty Avis wants you. The question is...what do you want?"

A dark brow raised in question as the Warlock turned to look back at the Unicorn.

[Tuesday]

"Ooooh~! Shopping trip~! I want a purple one! Or a blue one!. Or-hmmm!" the Unicorn's vibrations has her leg bouncing along. Then as her energy spiked Tuesday stands. Bounding lightly from one foot to the other. "I promise. I'll keep the pewing to my-ine~!"

There's beat of silence, then another as the Unicorn stills and just blinks.

"You know there's no way I'm never not going to call you Aunty Avis now right?"

Avis was a smart lady, but the Unicorn still had to ask.

A pinky finds an ear to scratch. "What I've heard? The normal stuff. Warriors. Defenders of the Realm. Challenging challenges are fun. Or something like that." her brows furrow in thought. "And what I want? for reals, frank truth here? I want to join a Order. The only reason I'm not in one is 'cause ofchildishness and pride." hands find her pockets. The bounce left her steps. "I want to be apart of something that matters more then just my stupid little slice of arrogance." a hand moves from her pocket to rake through her hair, only to find her fuzzy scalp. Right. Truth or Dare. To save on the looking silly moment, Tuesday's hand rubs at the fuzzy side of her head before returning to a pocket.

"So...yeah." Tuesday finishes off lamely, wondering what Avis would do with her verbal spillage.

[Avis]

"Good," Avis nodded, slowing starting to move towards the door, but stopping to make sure the Unicorn was following.

"I mean, not good about wanting to trick out your bow like you were in My Little Pony, but good about you wanting to find something that matters more than just yourself. Though, honestly, the right Order is going to still be a part of yourself. It's going to become the philosophy you live by...that's why it's probably a good thing you didn't make a hasty decision. The philosophy of the Order is what's most important, not the people or even the specialty that most members focus on. So I can't promise that the Arrow is going to be the best fit for you, but I can promise that I'll try and help you find the right fit, no matter what Order that might be.

"Starting with a preview of the Arrow, of course," Avis added, a half smile lightening the somber tone from just a moment before.

"Aunty Avis couldn't have it any other way. But instead of just giving you the usual spiel about the five most important sentences in the Universe, I think I'll just ask you some questions. So, first off, what is the thing that pisses you off the most? Like, makes you so mad you'd gleefully consider starting a thermonuclear war on your worst day. Oh, and why, of course."

[Tuesday]

Tuesday barks out a laugh, "Never My little Pony. More...I wish I could get an epic fantasy bow to work. But I know that something made out of starlight and wishes wont work, so I'm settling for funky colors."

"I'mma use that whenever someone asks me I'm apostating it up. No hasty decisions. Philosophy to live by. Etcetera."

While Avis' somber tone lightens, Tuesday's joyful one darkens.

"People in a position of authority that abuse that trust." the words are clipped, tight. Memory clouding hazels, as the myriad of expression common to Tuesday'd features, leave her face. "Dirty fucking cops that have everyone fooled they're squeaky fuckin' clean."

It doesn't look like the Unicorn realized that she said that last part out loud.

Memory clouded hazels look up at Avis, and bites out "Dad's a cop." when she remembers the women wanted a 'why'.

[Avis]

Well...

There it was. The next hint. The next trace of a break in the happy go luck facade the Unicorn had put up. Honestly, she hadn't expected her question to find such a crack, but she wasn't surprised. She'd been hunting for an honest insight into Tuesday, and even though a part of her felt bad for having jabbed one of her friend's wounds (if they were friends), another part of her was glad that she'd gotten that answer.

She had said she'd been wanting more Unicorn History lessons.

But...in time. There was no use in prodding a dead unicorn...

"Well, that tells me a lot," Avis said as the walked outside towards the van.

"In terms of Orders, that does resonate with the Arrow. We believe in a concept of Honor. Of actions matching intentions. We also believe in Service as being the most important ambition. That anger towards people that abuse their power resonates with that, I think, but let's keep painting the picture."

She'd ask about the dad later.

"What do you think about violence? I mean, you are asking me to teach you how to kill things, so I assume you have some kind of conception of it."

[Tuesday]

A big deal wasn't made over her for reals truth, Tuesday sucked in a breath, following Aunty Avis out to the van. "You did say thermonuclear war. And not. Like a tickle war. Or a prank war. Or War, the card game."

And just like that Tuesday rediscovered her stride. And her nodding.

"Sure. A few words does not a picture make."

Remembering about her half-head of hair, Tuesday uses the opposite hand to rake through the side that still had some. Then she tugged a few stands back behind her ear. "I'm not a stranger to violence. This," thumb jerks to the theater they were leaving, "is the closes thing I've hand to a home in...well. A while. I'm normally a stereotypical city shifting, street wandering, nomadic acanthus." Tuesday wonders then, with how many times she'd called herself a stereotype out loud, how many would realize that she gathered the bits of that Acanthus stereotype she liked, and made herself Tuesday from that. "Sometimes idiots don't take 'no' for an answer. Or for other reasons. Different things, not the no taking nos, but you see shit. And deal with it. But, fighting. Killing. Not my first instinct."

But she'd thought that Avis would have gathered that from their training day shenanigans.

[Avis]

"Huh," Avis replied as she popped the lock on the van and then climbed in.

"You know, I was that way, too," she continued once Tuesday had also climbed inside. "I was on the streets before I came to Sacramento. Which might be why I like your vibe. I mean, not that you're not a cool person, but I don't normally get along with people that talk about Unicorns."

A small smile was offered with that admission, and then the van rumbled to life with a twist of its key.

"But it turns out we've got a few things in common after all. Though, well, I have different instincts than you. But that's why I'm asking. A bow isn't just an instrument of war. It's also a hunting tool, and it can even be used for communication. Specially carved arrow heads can whistle messages, and arrow shafts can carry small pieces of writing. That doesn't change the fact that the primary use of a bow is to kill, though. So my question is, how are you going to cope with that? With learning how to kill?"

[Tuesday]

Climbing into the van, Tuesday squirms until she's buckled and facing Avis, concern and deep (faux) sorrow upon her features. "In someway...I guess I always knew you were a Unicorn racist. But. I'm glad that I'm the one that's broken through that vast negative vastness."

The van rumbles to life and Tuesday laughs. "The Unicorn thing was so no one would 'fairy' me. Get a head of the curve and folks seem to follow along."

"See. I like that. The message thing. I knew about the notes, but the sounds....that's cool." Tuesday's features are lit up with a grin, "Well. Bows, arrows. The path tool thing. Like I said before, but also the hunting. I figure that I could take that and make another bridge with Fisher." Building bridges, making connections. Cabaling it up.

"Music. Coping. I do most of my coping with music. Either listening to someone or making my own. And with this Reality War bee ess. I figure that learning to kill, instead of bludgeoning them would be a plus. Also range. I do a lot of punching. So having a weapon that I can use at range...but yeah. Music."

[Avis]

Avis couldn't help but snerk at the label of Unicorn racist. That was one way to put it, she supposed. Besides, it wasn't entirely inaccurate. It was something that she needed to work on. If her dreams of another life had taught her anything, it was that.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but Fisher uses guns. Also, I used the wrong word. I didn't mean coping. I meant, um...how are you going to justify killing? Yeah, that's the tricky part. The justification."

She put the van into gear, and soon they were on their way, trundling off towards the archery club.

"Oh, and before I forget, I can't teach you how to shoot like your path would want. I learned following the philosophy of combat archers from the Middle East, a bit of Mongolia, and the Mediterranean. So I aim. The whole 'the arrow flies where it's supposed to go' zen archery stuff isn't something I understand. My first mentor did, but he never taught it to me."