Personally think the one week post round works, more or less.
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Damn, Zeroth straight up blasting out IC posts as OOC updates now.
Her opponent went limp to disperse the impact. Like checking a low kick by raising your leg. Like leaping back to absorb a punch.
Their training swords clacked with each other a second time, a parry to check the swing Fanilly used to give herself some distance. She was fast again, fast to recover, fast to respond, lunging forth for another swing. Horizontal once more. No. The wrists were rotating, her edge alignment was off.
“Good.”
A feint, one that swapped from one side to the other at the very last moment. Serenity could envision it, the pronation of the forearms, the strain of the biceps, to perform a directional change like that. It was a clean move that fought against the very momentum that Fanilly herself had built, all to gain the element of surprise.
A strike with lesser strength, but sufficient speed. Answered by an advance that caught it before the motion completed.
She stepped inwards once more, entangling herself into the fray. The longsword skid against the rim of the shield that caught, then guided it into the one-handed sword. A static block, locking both in place. Setting it up for Serenity's next step inwards, placing both combatants into a distance where neither blade was fully useful.
Now, it was a contest of strength, of attrition.
The lioness pushed outwards. Pushed to break Fanilly’s stance, before launching into a flurry of quick blows that sought to test her response to attacks upon every conceivable part of her body, from her head to her chest to her arm to her fingers to her legs.
Shield on the left, sword on the right.
Whereas shields too could be weapons, so too could swords become shields.
Just as Fanilly leveraged her mobility, Serenity leveraged her stability. She had not built up speed herself, not with her striding approach, and while there were some among the knights who would see a shield and decide to charge straight ahead to smash through it, Fanilly was not one of them. So just as how water consumed fire, just as how pillows could withstand what wooden boards could not, slowness could respond better to swiftness.
She didn’t pivot this time.
She stepped inwards, into her foe.
Serenity’s sword arm rose upwards, elbow facing out, as the training weapon aligned with the side of her body. This was not an axe that was being swung, where the pure impact could break bones. This was a sword, versatile and agile, capable of cutting and thrust, but never crushing.
Fanilly’s swing did not strike Serenity’s shield on the side. Her swing instead struck Serenity on the side, blades clacking for the first time in their spar. The impact was felt, but through the padding training vest, it would not leave a bruise.
And now, there was the pivot. The turning of the hips, the extension of her left arm, as the rim of her shield swung towards the Captain’s extended arms while her blade was bound on the opposite side.
It was the philosophy of the Dwarven Shieldragers, whose weapons were hefty enough to supplant shields, whose shields were sharp enough to supplant weapons.
Esfir would still have ended up doing the same thing, yah, cause presumably, Lazash still started eating before the others.
Aight kk. Figured that wasn't the case because she got the boost by the time the food itself was done cooking, so thought that she was eating a lot of the stuff raw.
A desperation measure.
The initial burst of speed one may get by physically flinging themselves into a dive-roll was good as a desperate measure to evade a strike, but the delay between finishing the roll, reorientating yourself, and finally attacking, all took too long, especially when one killed their own momentum when initiating that dive.
And, most importantly, it was easy to read. You could feint steps, could feint swings, but could not feint the effects of gravity.
Serenity didn’t turn when Fanilly dove out of the way. She continued three steps onwards instead, three steps that would carry her out of the effective range of the Knight-Captain’s sword. Pivoted once more to face her foe. So that's what it was. A mobile sword style, emphasizing the reach that a two-handed sword could give, while adding in some acrobatic flair. It reminded her of certain schools of spearmanship developed by the Nem, who’d utilize the relevant length of the spear, alongside their natural agility, to strike with unorthodox, rising angles.
It reminded too, of Lucas.
“Two thrusts.” Just an observation.
Their positions were reset once more. But this time, Serenity did not charge. She simply walked.
Shield front-facing, sword hidden from view.
A calmer tempo, one to better respond to a mobility that could not handle a stalwart defense head-on.
There was something remarkably stubborn about someone who’d risk fracturing their hands upon a tree with such forceful punches. It was that sort of bravado that sent young men to their graves, the sort of silliness that would see people toss everything away for a beautiful, but empty, promise.
His other injuries weren’t even taken care of either. What was the point of adding on further injury?
…oh dear.
Was that how it was?
Esfir side-eyed Akeno, allowed the others to come to the obvious conclusion that nothing passively protective could be made out of what they were fundamentally turning into food. Lazash seemed to have some experience, but simply put, the armor that they made would be little better than rags if they didn’t have the privileges of tools and time. And while the information that the runt shared was useful, at the same time, she wasn’t wholly blind to how Lazash was quietly, casually, eating all the least edible parts of the Elwets’ body. Certainly, there was nothing to be done with scales mangled by teeth, nothing to be done with bones cracked to bits for the marrow inside. Wouldn’t even make for soup stock now.
It was intentional then, that when the Elwets cooked fully, the gamey stench of a violent death giving way to a pungent, hot aroma, Esfir divvied up the meat in a curious way.
Equal parts between herself, Grunthor, and Akeno. Less for Lazash, accounting for what she ate prior.
“We equally eat, until we form an idea of how much it takes to digest,” she said. “After that, gather up what useful stuff there is, and we’ll head to the caves to do our jobs.”
There were antlers to sharp, stones to be tested. Even those foul-smelling berries may have some promise. She would dry them out by the fire, maybe crush them into powder afterwards. Her nose was sharper than she last remembered, but predators’ senses were sharper still.
For now though?
“Enjoy your meal.”
She would eat.
@Kazemitsu@King Cosmos@Crusader Lord
His other injuries weren’t even taken care of either. What was the point of adding on further injury?
…oh dear.
Was that how it was?
Esfir side-eyed Akeno, allowed the others to come to the obvious conclusion that nothing passively protective could be made out of what they were fundamentally turning into food. Lazash seemed to have some experience, but simply put, the armor that they made would be little better than rags if they didn’t have the privileges of tools and time. And while the information that the runt shared was useful, at the same time, she wasn’t wholly blind to how Lazash was quietly, casually, eating all the least edible parts of the Elwets’ body. Certainly, there was nothing to be done with scales mangled by teeth, nothing to be done with bones cracked to bits for the marrow inside. Wouldn’t even make for soup stock now.
It was intentional then, that when the Elwets cooked fully, the gamey stench of a violent death giving way to a pungent, hot aroma, Esfir divvied up the meat in a curious way.
Equal parts between herself, Grunthor, and Akeno. Less for Lazash, accounting for what she ate prior.
“We equally eat, until we form an idea of how much it takes to digest,” she said. “After that, gather up what useful stuff there is, and we’ll head to the caves to do our jobs.”
There were antlers to sharp, stones to be tested. Even those foul-smelling berries may have some promise. She would dry them out by the fire, maybe crush them into powder afterwards. Her nose was sharper than she last remembered, but predators’ senses were sharper still.
For now though?
“Enjoy your meal.”
She would eat.
@Kazemitsu@King Cosmos@Crusader Lord
not unless there was a dojo somewhere around her that somehow knew traditional Okinawan karate.
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