001 | text | foster

[beknight]

My name is Alan, originally from 21st century Earth.

I'm looking for sparring partners. I'm familiar with a wide variety of martial arts, unarmed and weapon-based. If you're keen, you can find me here.

​​​​[ Enclosed are directions to a dojo in Olympia; he'll be there all day. ]

If there's enough of us, I'd like to start a regular group. ​​​​[ we're all in this together.mp3 ] We can learn a lot from each other.

​​​​[ eta: here is a log for direct action needs. you are also welcome to jump to action directly in the post. ]

Comments

[beknight]

I have some idea.

[ The same tone. Tit for tat. Although the things that live with them recognise each other, that doesn't make them less dangerous. Trust on both sides will be hard won. ]

[motivation]

[ trust is never easy, but familiarity has its own worth, as does recognition. dutch is glad to have taken him up on the invitation to spar. ]

Tell me, old man, do your knees already creak? [ she asks in lieu of responding to his comment -- though in a way, it's further proof of prickliness, offered with a twinkle in her eye and a challenge in her grin. ]

[beknight]

Heard that one before.

[ The amusement flickers — obvious to her, she's looking for it. ]

Let's try with some weapons. Staff or escrima?

[motivation]

[ khlyen taught her how to use both, and a large number of other weapons — from firearm to poison. dutch shrugs. ]

Your choice. I'll kick your arse either way. [ big words, jokingly spoken, though she'll certainly try. she's aware, at least, that they're evenly matched, so some of the cockiness that often creeps in in moments like this is missing from her tone. ]

[beknight]

I look forward to seeing it.

[ Big words, but she can back them up plenty. He chooses the escrima — let's call it nostalgia. Or perhaps to avoid the joke of the staff being a glorified walking stick. ]

Here.

[motivation]

[ she takes the escrima, settling into a loosely defensive position after finally shrugging off her jacket and tossing it aside. ]

Think you can handle it, old man?

[beknight]

[ The smirk's more in his eyes than his mouth, but it's the clearest it's been. ]

Try to keep it interesting.

[ She's not going to have any problem with that. ]

[motivation]

Oh, you're on.

[ dutch loves a challenge, even if (or especially when, really) it's as blatant as this. she hasn't finished speaking by the time she attacks again. ]

[beknight]

[ From the outside, it looks choregraphed. Blow for blow, strikes parried, falls that become rolls. They could both keep going until they're out of breath — but when the rhythm changes to almost friendly, he stops. ]

Glad you took a chance?

[motivation]

[ they stop before they're out of breath, but there's a thin layer of sweat on dutch's skin and at his question, she grins, twirling her weapon for a moment. ]

You'll do, I suppose.

[ her tone is all casual disregard, but her eyes are warm. ]