Spren of Kindness
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Everything posted by Spren of Kindness
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"Tips would be welcome." "Aluminum?" Interesting. He knows of weapons with aluminum alloys, but he doesn't use them a lot. Steel is still more common. -
"Sorry I did that, then. And thanks for the tip. I'm not going out by my own jacket sleeves." He frowns. How is he supposed to fight if he doesn't get close enough for an Awakener to do that?
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"Thanks," Martin says, scooting backward and sitting up. "You're good."
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Martin grimaces. He can't really get out of this. He's pretty well stuck. "You want to call it?"
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"Can't blame you for that one," Martin sighs. He's had worse. Could be his hand.
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Martin tests his mobility (near zero), and plants his feet, taking the tackle and going for a modified version of the Dagger's Fall, using his legs to lock around Camille's torso and arms much the same way that his jacket sleeves are currently restraining his own upper body.
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Nope, nope, nope. Martin takes a step back instantly, put distance between yourself and target when compromised, shrugs one arm out of the jacket, goes for the other, too slow. He can't move his arms. His pulse is racing, and the pressure on the base of his skull is back.
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Martin steps backwards instinctively, missions and training and reality overlapping. Making him slow. He pivots again, going for the other wrist. If he can get her arms pinned...
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That's an... odd choice of sentence.
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"It would," Martin agrees as he rolls and comes back up. Sparring is tricky in ways that combat isn't. He can't do Reese's move - he's too tall to pull it off. He moves forward again, grabbing for her wrist to make her drop the rapier, and that's actually really ironic.
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She's good at that, Martin thinks. Especially for a teen. He shifts back and forth for a heartbeat, assessing. Then rushes forward again in a tackle.
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He pivots away from the blade, then steps into the space it had just occupied, and snaps his foot out to catch Camille's ankles.
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Martin races forward.
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"Alright." She's going with rope. He'll need to get in close, and quickly, then. He flips his training knife out. The plastic feels unbalanced - he should check the weights after this. "On three?"
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"We could do a round then," Martin says. "You against me."
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"We could train?" Martin suggests.
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"And what are your specialties?" Mejenn adds.
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"I would imagine." What would it be like, to see things coming?
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"I suppose it comes in handy at times."
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"As in, possibilities for every person you meet?" Seven months actually seems like a short amount of time to adapt to something like that.
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"Well, that's new." At least to Martin.
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"I have no idea what passes for normal anymore, but I understand the idea." Actually, according to the 'statistical average' or whatever it was they'd been calling it, he's never had a normal life. Weird.
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"Arctic storms in an equatorial desert, that sounds awful." Martin shudders. It reminds him vaguely of his own trip into this universe, for whatever reason.
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"I know the feeling. Decided you were done?"
