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thedivinecommaarbitrage · 4 years

Text

Waiting for Lightning - Chp 1

I Remember Days When I Was Younger

AO3

Beauregard Lionett, junior at the University of the Cobalt Soul and star of the track team attended every 6 AM weekend practice hungover. She said it was her secret weapon. The added pain from the pounding headache gave her an edge. (And turned her on a little, though she'd only admitted that to Fjord while quite tipsy.) This morning was no different, except the women's rugby team was practicing on the indoor field the warmup track circled. Beau was mid-stretch, jamming to her tunes, and checking out the women on the field, a state of being she rather enjoyed.

Now Beau considered herself a bit of a Casanova. She had slept her way through most of the girls on the track team, and the soccer team, and half the sorority girls she partied with if she was being honest. So, she was sizing up the rugby team, looking for her next one-night stand when she saw the most striking woman.

Running drills across the field was a Norse goddess. A tall, muscular woman with hair that went from black to white tied back in a loose mess of braids. Beau couldn't see her eyes from this distance, but she had dark makeup all smudged around them. Beau could appreciate that aesthetic since she normally sported day old, messy eyeliner. The mystery woman also had a blue line inked from her lower lip down her chin and neck. Beau bit her lip wondering how far down that line went. Beau was so caught up in ogling the woman that she didn't notice Dairon was behind her until they smacked the backside of her head.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Lionett, and get on the track. It's time for training, not drooling over the other athletes." The assistant coach was already walking away before Beau could react.

"Hey! My head's here in the game, Dairon. I know what I'm doing. I'm the best for a reason, okay. Lay off for a minute, will ya?" Beau said as she stood up and jogged after her coach. Dairon had taken an interest in Beau during her freshman season on the team. They were a total hardass, and Beau would never admit it, but she would have washed out without their help. "I'll do my laps, okay. You don't have to tell me twice." And she took off before Dairon could continue telling her off.

Beau ran her laps, with her music turned up loud enough to compete with the sound of blood pumping in her head. Right now, it was Joan Jett. She kept stealing glances at that woman as she played on the field. Beau didn't know much about rugby, but she could still tell that the woman was good. She hadn't ever had the ball, but she had made successful tackles against most of the players who had possession of the ball. That woman was all muscle and ferocity, taking down opponents left and right. It was really fucking hot.

Unfortunately, the rugby team's practice ended before the track team's. Beau watched the woman quietly gather up her things and head to the locker rooms, not talking with any of the other players. Surprisingly, off the field, the woman seemed demure and reserved, compared to the powerhouse she was on the field. Beau only focused back in on her laps once the woman was fully out of sight.

“Lionett,” Dairon called to Beau as she walked away from the track at the end of practice. “Meet me at 10:00 in the practice room for more training. It’s been awhile, and I’m worried you’ve gotten rusty.” They turned on their heel and marched away before Beau could respond.

“Great, yes, Dairon, that fits perfectly in my schedule. Thanks for asking. You’re such a considerate coach.” Beau said to Dairon’s retreating back. She sighed and continued on to the locker room. She was already feeling the laps in her legs and more training with Dairon would just hurt more.

When Dairon had first taken an interest in Beau, she had been rather angry and troubled. She was getting into fights with her teammates and was close to being kicked off the team before they stepped in. Dairon had taken her to a small practice room and said, “Take a swing. Try and hit me. Take your anger out here, off the field.” So, Beau took a wild swing. Dairon easily sidestepped, so fast Beau didn’t even notice, and then followed up with a slap to the side of Beau’s head. “You’re sloppy, directionless. You need discipline and order. Again.” Beau swung out again, and Dairon raised their hand in an effortless block. “Better, but you’re still miles away. Try again.” Beau yelled in frustration. Why was her coach doing this? She closed her eyes and breathed out through her nose and took one more wild swing. To her surprise, this one connected with something soft, and she felt a small crack. Beau opened her eyes to see Darion staring back at her in shock, blood gushing from their nose.

“Oh my god, did I break your nose? Fuck, that’s cool. Ah, I mean, shit, fuck. Are you gonna kick me off the team?” Beau’s sudden joy at landing a blow on her coach was crushed as she remembered the reality. She had punched a school official, fuck.

Dairon lightly touched the side of their nose and laughed. “That was good. A little wild, but when you focused, and let your anger slide away, you connected. You have potential, Lionett. And no, I’m not going to kick you off the team. I’m going to teach you to fight, properly, with restraint and focus.”

Beau stood there, shocked. Fighting training? All she had wanted as a kid was for her dad to enroll her in karate or any martial arts, but he had refused on account of it being improper for a girl to learn to fight. “Really? What, that’s so cool! I can’t wait to punch things so good. This is gonna be sick,” Beau said, looking at her fists. She already felt so much cooler.

“It’s not something ‘cool’ or something to be taken lightly. You need control and composure if you’re going to be successful on the team. It’s about discipline. Remember that, Beauregard.” Dairon opened the door to the practice room. “Every day after practice, we will meet for another hour, and you will learn. Now, get out of here.” With that Dairon turned on their heel and walked off down the hall. Beau was left standing, still in shock, feeling like her world had been shifted.

Beau slammed the door to her dorm open and tossed her gym bag in the general direction of her closet. "Morning, Jessie!" She called as she strode across the room to flip down in her roommate's bean bag.

"Beau, why do you have to be so loud? It's the morning. It's time for sleeping. Do you even sleep, Beau?" Her roommate, Jester, groaned as she rolled away from Beau.

"But, Jess, I brought pastries." Beau held up the paper bag, emblazoned with the emblem of The Slayer's Cake, the most popular bakery in Zadash.

"Pastries?" Jester squealed and snatched the bag out of Beau's hand before leaping back onto her bed. "Beau, you're the best roommate ever. Thank you!" She rummaged through the bag. "And you got my favorite blueberry muffins? You really are the best."

Ah, it was nothing really. The on-campus store is in between here and the track." It really wasn't, but Beau loved making Jester happy. She was the best friend that Beau had ever had. (Though she would punch out anyone who accused her of being soft like that.) “Come on, eat your sweets, I’ve got to meet Dairon again in a couple hours and we have to study with Fjord before then.”

Beau had met her wild roommate on move in day freshman year. She'd driven herself to school in her shitty, old Toyota Camry because her parents couldn't be bothered to give a shit about their only kid leaving for college. Her brother was born less than a year later, and Beau stopped wondering why they never gave a shit about her anymore. She had finally made it to her dorm to find a bubbly, little blue tiefling decorating one side of the room in pink, frilly things, and a tall, buff minotaur standing guard, arms folded. “Hey, ummm, I’m Beau. Your roommate, I guess.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Jester. And this is Bluud. He’s harmless. Bluud, get out of her way, so she can unpack. I can’t wait to be the best of friends. I’m an art major. What are you studying?” The tiefling, Jester, bombarded her with even more questions while they set up their room and ran out to get more supplies at the local Target. Beau was sure she was going to hate Jester, but after a few hours, they were good friends. And by the time they went to bed, Jester declared them to be best friends forever. They had been roommates ever since, so for now, Jester’s declaration was holding true. Beau couldn’t picture anyone else putting up with her shit, and no one else could handle Jester’s specific brand of wild.

“Hey, Jess, I saw this cool chick at track this morning. She was practicing with the rugby team, and I’ve never seen her before. She had this really goth look with black and white hair and a chin tattoo. Have you seen her?” Beau began changing out of her running clothes into a different cut off t-shirt and sweats.

“Oh, I think you’re talking about Molly’s new roommate. She just moved here from another school; I think. Her name is Yasha. I saw her briefly when I was at Molly’s last weekend.” Jester turned back to her vanity to finish putting on her makeup for the day. “She didn’t really talk, but yeah she looks really cool and really strong. Did you see her arms? Like, so nice.”

“Yeah, she was a powerhouse on the field,” Beau turned away from Jester to hide her excited expression. Jester knew who she was, and she was Molly’s friend. Beau and Molly may not always get along, but they still hung out with the same people. Beau would have a chance to meet her, to meet Yasha, then. “Yasha…” Beau murmured. The name was beautiful and strangely fitting for the woman she had watched on the practice field. Beau blushed as she thought about her. Beau was going to talk to her. Get her number. Maybe even court her. That last thought made her laugh; Beau hadn’t ever courted anyone. But that muscular, goth woman made her want to try, and Beau would try anything at least once.

#fic #my writing #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard x yasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #jester lavorre #crit role #college au #giving writing another shot #this will sporadically updated #if you're my irl friends (you know who you are) this isn't for you

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