Fantasy RP Blood of the Covenant (Redcoat)

Hayden leaned into his father’s embrace while listening to his parents talk- he didn’t understand much at this moment but he understood a little.

As for Faerynn, he kept his daughter close - as she was much like her cousin Hayden, shy and not really wanting to be adventurous. That made it easy. As for his son.. he encountered him on one of his chases from his mother and he chuckled as his son bumped into him. “Now..who do we have here?” He asked and knelt down. Genevieve looked at her brother, knowing he was probably going to be in trouble.
 
Fae gave a soft sigh and stepped aside, looking at his son. “Now Sammy, you know you should’ve apologized right away instead of running..” he chastised, but didn’t sound angry or upset to him. Genevieve blinked as she was readjusted in her father’s arms. She wasn’t that verbal, but she made it known how fussy she was, especially when her father wasn’t holding her.
 
Genevieve watched as her brother and their trainer- clashed swords. She kept herself on the sidelines because as she had grown up fighting, now in her mid twenties— she’d rather much be watching rather than fighting. She had hated the long training regimes, and the days where her body was so sore and tired. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t useful to have around. She’d always help bring water, food and extra supplies / armor needed whenever there was a requirement for it. But truthfully she stuck around because she enjoyed watching their trainer…..train
 
Whilst Gene watched, she'd see Sam knock Iven's blade aside and then tackle the Vampire to the ground, a grin on his face as he held down their trainer to the ground "That's that, Ive... You lose again!" He crowed, even as he stood up and walked away towards his Sister, still grinning widely as Iven picked himself up and followed, shaking his head slowly "You know you aren't meant to do that, Sam. It's not honourable."
"Honour Shmonour. I won, you lost. End of." Sam retorted, even as Genevive would note a tear over Ivens chest, showing off his muscles under his leather clothes.
 
Genevieve winced slightly at the way Samuel played dirty. It was only then, when he walked away did she focus in on Iven’s clothes and blushed ever so slightly. She moved to hop over the wooden fence and walked over to him, extending a hand. “You alright?” She asked, her cheeks stained a slight pink. The outfit she wore was a black corset with a fluffy unlaced white shirt, dark leather pants, and thigh high boots.
 
Iven shrugged but nodded to her, taking her hand to help stand back up "Yeah, I'm fine." He answered, looking down at his chest and tutting when he saw the tear "Damn. I liked this jacket..." He muttered, removing it and then cursing when he realised the shirt underneath was torn as well. Thankfully for her, he didn't remove the shirt as he looked her over, raising an eyebrow "You look ready to train, dressed like that." He remarked, even as he took a step back, offering her one of the training swords.
 
She glanced over at his jacket, and she mentioned next, “Well I could always mend it for you—“ she trailed off as she was examined over by him and she looked down at her outfit. This was more casual than a dress, and something she was more comfortable wearing. At the offer of training and glancing at the sword she gave a soft smirk, “Well..would you go easy on me? It’s been a bit..” she reminded him, grabbing the hilt and looking up at his eyes.
 
He stretched as she took the sword, tossing his jacket aside and nodding to her "Sure. I can go easy on you. But not that easy. You were always a better student than Sam was, so I don't think you'll have forgotten much." He readied his own bade, waiting for her to make the first move "Oh and don't worry about the jacket. I'll get a servant to mend it." He said, perhaps not realising exactly why she'd offered to fix it.
 
Genevieve couldn’t help but feel something in her stomach when he said she had been a better student than her brother, but that feeling went away when he mentioned that he would get a servant to fix his jacket, because she felt silly—why would he even take her up on that offer? She was basically a princess, considering the status of her parents around here and her uncle and aunt.

When she took the blade and raised it up, she then moved very quickly- practically flashing up next to him, aiming to hit him from the front. Genevieve hoped she would catch him off guard, but that wouldn’t be that easy.
 
Unfortunately she was correct, and despite the speed of her move, Iven brought his blade up faster, stopping hers dead as he gave her an approving nod "Well done. I see not practising hasn't taken the shine off your agility... Now, why don't we see about your technique?" He asked, even as he stepped to his left, his blade dancing in a pattern that she could block, but only just. If she missed any, the flat of his blade would come down and flick against her body with a slap as he continued to test her knowledge.
 
Genevieve gave a soft huff of frustration as he moved and his blade danced in a way she hadn’t seen before in a while, but she barely counteracted it. And once she did, she tried to push him back, but she was using her non dominant hand to do so. She could easily switch positions for her blade to sit in each hand, but the reason she was using her non dominant hand was…

Well,

She didn’t really know the answer to.
 
He raised an eyebrow as he watched her continuing to fence with her offhand, even as she'd notice his strikes were definitely slower than usual... was he holding back because she was using her weaker hand? Even as she considered this, the thought ringing amongst the sound of metal clashing on metal, she'd feel his strikes suddenly getting stronger and faster, forcing her to adapt to keep up, to stop him from leaving the flat of his blade on her, or worse knocking her sword from her hand.
 
As his strikes became faster and harder to counteract, he eventually knocked her sword out of her hand, but she moved to where her dominant hand would catch it and barely be able to counteract his next swing. He would see that got her panting, and the light sheen of sweat on her body glistened.
 
He met this turn of events with a laugh, leaning into the binding blades so they were closer together as she panted for breath, his own breathing steady and even "There we go... Even without training and using your wrong hand, you kept up so well... Now to see how well you do with the correct hand!" He stepped back, ignoring the sheen of sweat as he struck at her, refusing to give her a chance to make an attack of her own, forcing her to forge her own opportunities if she wanted to do much more than hold him off until she ran out of energy.
 
With his words came a soft blush on her cheeks that she couldn’t easily hide— and next, as she was given an onslaught of attacks from him, it was harder for her to keep up- and to strike at her own opportunity. When it seemed she finally had an opening she went to strike, completely forgetting that she left herself wide open for his counterattack.
 
He slid aside of her thrusting strike, bringing his offhand up to catch her sword hand as he brought his own blade around, resting it just under her throat as he looked at her with a smile "Good. But perhaps a little rushed at the end, No?" He chided her softly, even as he seemed to ignore the blush on her cheeks "When trying to break an opponents attacks, you must remember not to leave yourself open." He let go of her hand and lifted his blade from her neck, his eyes now on her cheek "Oh? Your face is red. Are you feeling alright?"
 
Genevieve had been staring at his face, her cheeks seemingly becoming redder by the second, easily noted on her fair skin. At his words and his question she blundered out the next few words. “W-What? I’m f-fine..” she said and moved standing back from him, patting her pants down and free of dust. She looked back up, the sheen of sweat still on her, trailing down her lovely neck, and to her pushed up bosom from her corset. “Would you like me to fetch you something to drink?” She asked, knowing they had an open blood bar at this point, rather than feed on servants. She had headed towards the shade, and away from any prying eyes.
 
He watched as she bent down to pat herself clean of dust, seeing the sheen of sweat and the still present red flush on her face as she stood back up and offered to fetch him something to drink "A kind offer, Genevieve... But why don't I come with you and we both get something to drink together?" He offered in return, following her into the shade, his eyes flicking between either her blushing face, her smooth neck or the top of her bosom, where the flesh was exposed and pushed up by the corset she was wearing.
 
Her blushing face was soon calming down, and she moved her hair away from her neck, tying it up neatly. She fetched herself some water and looked to him, wondering if he would get some blood. As she guzzled her water down, it went down very quickly before she set her glass down on a table nearby. They were close to the coven’s own tavern, just a few walking distance away from the training grounds. The shade was nice though.
 
He watched her drinking, tilting his head as she spilled a little down herself in her haste to quench her thirst. He then glanced towards the Tavern "Gene... Would you mind if we went to the tavern? Not that I don't like the shade, but I really could do with a fresh glass of blood..." He was still looking off towards the Tavern, even as the idea would flicker through her mind to offer her own... It wasn't seen as a Taboo subject to offer, most of the blood in the Tavern was mixed together from various volunteers in the Coven anyway.
 
“If that’s what you desire, then we can go,” she smiled towards him, her tiny fangs pointing in a beautiful grin. She had thought of offering her blood to him, but she’d figured her and Iven should stay..professional between one another. After all, he was her former trainer, and as much as she enjoyed the idea.. she..couldn’t. So she moved towards down the tavern, opening up the door for Iven, and in it would find all sorts of people inside, witches, warlocks, vampires and werewolves alike. Some drinking together, others drinking from…each other..but Genevieve didn’t seem uncomfortable, as this seemed to be the norm for her.
 
As they walked in, Iven glanced at the pairs drinking from each other, but didn't make any comment as they approached the bar. He ordered a glass of blood, and when given it they moved to a quiet booth away from the entrance, sitting across from each other as he sipped slowly, giving an appreciative sight "Mmm... That's better..." He murmured softly, even as she'd have a slight pang of regret that she hadn't made the offer towards him, especially now they were surrounded by others doing the same thing. Of course, that was assuming he'd accepted the offer, which wasn't guaranteed either...
 
Genevieve certainly did feel a pang of regret, but it was fleeting, especially when she watched him drink the dark liquid down. But he was doing it slowly. More slowly than she had anticipated. “So..about my training..I know I said in the past I wanted to stop but today..” she started up, moving a little in the booth and the way the light was hitting her, the dim lighting almost illuminating her unblemished neck, to which what was underneath her perfect skin was virgin, pure blood untasted by one..

“I think I would like to continue,” she tells him next, her pretty eyes focusing on his handsome face.
 
He tilted his head as she spoke, having to actively try and focus his attention onto her face, as the light picked out the unblemished flesh of her neck and drew his eyes down towards it "You want to continue? Good." He responded, using the conversation as another distraction tactic "It was a shame when you said you wished to stop. It would be a waste of your talents to leave them to decay." He picked up his glass again, taking another slow sip, the pulse of his throat inevitably drawing her eye as he swallowed.
 

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