Grayell nodded silently and then turned to rest his rear atop the fence. Arms folded once more, he looked at her a moment. That sword... well it had a devilish thought plaguing his mind and he knew he'd act upon it soon enough. No time like the present in fact.
Eat up. I hope you're well rested. I don't take anyone on without testing their potential.
He had said that with a rather matter-of-fact manner but the grin told his intent. In all sincerity, regardless of whether she'd join them or not he wanted to see if she could fight. Beyond that... well he needed someone who could fight in the manner he preferred.
Not the cutting down a foe with impeccable precision of course. No... he intended to have some fun with it. She seemed the sort that might well agree.
Zaedus arrived and Grayell's almost brooding manner lightened. He raised an eyebrow, got off the fence and extended a hand in welcome.
Morning Captain. We will depart soon enough. You should check your load, I believe I covered everything. The lady here...
Grayell only laughed then, it was a warm laugh at least. He hadn't lost his sense of humor after all. He cleared his throat when he could manage and opened his hands to illustrate his words.
I haven't yet had the pleasure of a name Zaedus. But I do believe I need to work out a few kinks after so much time resting. If the lady here will oblige me, I intend to see whether she's capable.
Grayell's eyes had drawn to her again and he was grinning wide, a playful look. He nodded as he finished speaking though, a half bow as if challenging her were a matter of politeness.
She acquiesced. The desire for food overwhelmed anything else, at least for those first few minutes. Then her mind replayed the last words of his comment. A test. Well, she’d have been surprised if anyone hired her without one. Only fools purchase something without checking the quality. He wasn’t a fool, obviously.
Nor was he alone anymore, and the one that spoke to him was what? She’d seen some peculiar things in her life but this bid fair to being right at the top. That was a damn long nose, and ears, huge ones under that hood she’d bet money on it. Money she still didn’t have.
She had to stop thinking about it. There were more important things to consider, like that blade. The one she had wanted to hear sing earlier. The food was finished off in short order. She cleaned her hands off as well, getting back to her feet. The smile on her face was decidedly aggressive instead of intimidated. But, for all of that, there was no malice in it, no hatred or an agenda, only a lust for battle.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell dusted off his hands as she quietly finished her meal... and considered goading her a little.
Silent. A rare quality in a woman.
He was grinning still, a devilish bastard grin that conveyed more humor than anything else, but his eyes took a shine. He was stirring and as she seemed quite agreeable, so he unfastened his shirt.
He turned his back to her as he pulled it from his shoulders, his back rolling down as it dropped and revealed a warrior's physique. Every muscle had purpose, each sinew trained to move in a symphony that could wreak havoc. There was almost more scar tissue than there was untouched skin, testament to many trials and injuries earned, not taken without consent.
He handed his armor to Zaedus but stripped no further, bare chested and quite stimulated in the brisk morning breeze. The sun lit his skin and bathed him a warmth though and he smiled, eyes lazily half shut as a dog enjoying a nap. Hands reached up and untied his hair, a roll of his neck spilling it's snow-driven length down his back. He hefted his blade to his back, adjusted the strap some and then, with a slight bow; extended a hand to the open ground beside them with a smile.
After you milady.
Last Edit: Sept 22, 2011 19:43:38 GMT -5 by Grayell
She wanted to laugh, again, and for the most ridiculous of reasons. Still, he’d given at least a semblance of the ritual and she returned the small bow with a more formal one.
You can call me Kiko. Milady sounds like my mother.
The humor was still curling her mouth too, as the words were uttered. The kimono was slipped off her shoulders, the soft silk falling to the ground without a sound. With it and the cloak removed she looked fragile, delicate, but anyone who make the mistake of thinking so wouldn’t stay on their feet long. The leather armor was sleeveless and fit her perfectly without hampering movement at all. And if she had copied his removal of clothing she didn’t remove the braid of hair wound up and tied off at her neck.
She stood opposite him, legs spaced the width of her shoulders and her knees ready to spring into action. The sword fit him, though she didn’t recognize any hard use on it, none of the wear and tear that should be visible. It was either new, or he kept it immaculately clean.
Offense then, she pulled the katana free and drew the matching tanto in her off hand.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell paced to the battlefield to be and was looking to the ground, a tongue in his cheek. He kicked at the dirt, frowned and then looked up at her with a quirked eyebrow. He looked up to the sun for a moment... and then shrugged dismissively.
Kiko. I'm sure your mother was a fine lady.
He didn't smile, didn't grin, but the words were not a jab. He rocked his neck side to side, eyes closed and then rolled his shoulders forward. His fingers knitted and he forced his palms out, elbows in and yawned. Lastly, he twisted his upper body... and popped something rather loudly.
Then he smiled... or sneered rather. He was done with what little ritual he cared for and shifted his feet... his left in front of his right, almost too close together. He studied her for a moment longer and then frowned, something occurred to him.
He looked down, reached and plucked a long stem of grass. He slid it onto his lower lip and sniffed, whilst his hands dragged his still sheathed blade from his back. He looked at it, shrugged and then turned it over... the handle reversed in his hand. His left hand wound the cord about his right wrist and he pulled the safe blade against his forearm. Satisfied, he stepped closer... shoulders low. His eyes were still playful but bellied a confidence. Perhaps he wasn't taking her seriously. Perhaps he thought he had her before they'd begun.
None of that was true. No Grayell was quite prepared to play with his new friend - but only if she gave it her all.
The two stood silent for a moment, eyeing one another, summing each other up. His shoulders would shift, a quick twitch that suggested an attack and she would react very quickly. She would pace, matching his own movement, eyes very perceptive... and he would tighten his guard.
But someone had to move. So he did. He pointed first... then whipped his body around with a savage spin that brought his rear leg arching in a brutal hook toward her head. She ducked it, as anticipated and he countered that - swinging the pommel of his reversed blade toward her now lowered head. It didn't contact though - the blow was pulled and his adversary much too fast...
.... but as she maneuvered with expert precision, the sheathed blade unfolded from his hand and simply swatted her on the ass as he bounced away.
He came to a halt, feet together and grinning. He was deliberately flashy... and it produced a result. With an almost silent chuckle he regarded her and again pulled the safe blade behind his arm.
She stayed calm, centered, balanced even with the attempt at her head. The smack on the ass damaged her pride, no one should be that fast. Still, it was a taunt she wasn’t going to rise to yet. No, this more about him, his action, his behavior, let him waste speed and energy with the flashy attack. Meanwhile she was going to use the time to learn. The words of another sword slinger filtered up into her mind. “Let them burn.” He didn’t look all that winded, though, or hot. No, strike that, he looked damn good.
Her lips curled back in a reply.
Not quick enough.
No. Don’t play his game. Forget the words and focus on his feet. Her own were already moving, two quick steps forward and a spin put her up against his side and the sudden punch of her hand inward toward his solar plexus.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
He only grinned in response and dropped his arms. The blow came in and struck his center, a solid thwack on a hard core... but it fell away rather than stopped her hand altogether. He too had watched her footwork and whilst his lead leg had checked any blow below the waist, his other foot had turned in ever so slightly. The blow gave him stimulus, set off a reaction and without thought he turned - dangerously close. His back was at her shoulder, a position that could slide a blade into her ribs were she a lesser opponent, but he continued the fluid motion and stepped out, feet sliding in the dirt to bring him now low and behind her.
His sword arm lifted, the still sheathed blade now crossing his core. Head low, shoulders low and his smile unwavering. Besides, the view from back there was amazing. He chuckled... but kept his breath and composure.
It took him a moment before he shifted, he'd waited for her to follow his motion. Slowly, very slowly he straightened up drawing in a deep breath. His tongue flicked over his teeth inside his closed mouth.
Lotus. It's been a long time.
His hand unwound the cordage from his wrist, untying the blade. He looked at it once and then at her... before he slid it to the ground gently and walked away from it.
You're well trained. But... I do wonder how diverse you are.
His eyes grew cold as he uttered those words, though not unfriendly. Rather, they were serious, she had his attention now. His feet shuffled apart, his hands lazily floated up to rest in front and out from his chest and he hissed a breath out. The breath was the life and his body reacted, each and every fiber of his being slowly being turned on to fighting mode. A calm came over him as he swayed in step, and suddenly... his guard was impeccable. He'd be much harder to hit now.
Eyes followed her, locked onto her gaze but it was understood that he saw everything. Hands followed steps, his posture immaculate, every facet of his form completely ready for conflict. He shifted again, one hand over the other. One foot past the other. His shoulders rotating like silk, his hips never not cocked to kick. His breath was silent, his eyes unflinching.
She saw the change immediately, the fluid wall from before became solid. Hell, he was good, and they hadn’t even crossed blades. She’d followed the motion, that part was routine. Her feet traced the same delicate pattern in the earth. But, where he’d gone low she remained upright. The cord came free of his arm and the wild grin returned to her face.
Try me. You might be surprised.
It was the only reply; in words. The rest came from the stance. The sudden shift of her posture to crouch just a bit lower, and use the muscles of her thighs and calves to propel her forward in a leap. He’d blocked the punch; she expected that. Or rather, didn’t assume it would land. If it had, well, all the better for her end. Pure strength wasn’t enough to win the day.
But leaping at him? Foolish. Possibly. She turned over in mid-air like a tumbler and landed behind him with a small slash that took off several strands of his hair.
Zaedus drew his sword, the sunlight shining brightly off the silver blade. He moved over to a support post in the middle of the stable. He hefted the large blade and swung at the post severing it and causing a part of the roof to collapse in. He replaced his sword in the harness on his back and eyed the two fumbling about like children at play.
Are you two done with the foreplay? If it is not a hassle to you both I would much like to start this journey while the day is young.
Last Edit: Sept 22, 2011 21:00:44 GMT -5 by Zaedus
... his hair being the last thing that moved. She was lithe, nimble and quick, acrobatic and flexible... endearing features that no doubt only helped provoke more interest.
But now was not the time. His leg came to the end of it's quick circle and his heel caught her below the armpit - above the kidney. It knocked her to one side and dropped her guard for but a moment, she would later realize his frame was capable of far more force... later being now. The leg dropped like a log and his hips brought him around, his other foot lifted and snapping out to just above her knee. Another pulled blow, it ruined her balance for but a moment and opened her up - and he shot in with a right. Fingers danced over her throat then, the hand then folding down to snap her sword arm aside as his left hand only lightly jabbed her diaphragm. That hand too lifted, stroked fingers past her eyes and waved down, both hands pulling into his core as he brought them back.
He lunged back, emptied his front leg and stood ready. His balance was where it needed to be and in a frontal attack, his kicks were only faster. He swayed like a mantis on a leaf, the wind stirring his newly trimmed hair. Eyes stared through her...
... and then smiled. His head was still low but he grinned, this wasn't a true fight. This was a test of skill.
I'm already surprised Lotus. As for trying you... well we only just met.
Shifting stance again, one hand rolled over and then slowly wound out, splayed his fingers and pressed the palm in her direction. He wound low in his stance, side on now... and looked at her with eyes that could either kill or undress. In either order.
She blinked, choked, and her heartbeat thudded to a stop, fingers still clutching his hair. The disorientation lasted for mere seconds but the world spun on a whole new axis during that time. Breath would be wonderful right about now Kaminari, please and thank you. The world returned or what she could see of it and the shallow breath told her she hadn’t ascended. That was inhumanly fast, it had to be. She wasn’t the best by a long shot, but she could match speed with just about anyone. Was she that rusty?
The words filtered in, taunting again, and this time they struck with a little more precision. Her temper had long since been worn thin at any implications of being a plaything.
The name is Kiko. Remember. Didn’t we have this discussion? Have your wits gone a wandering?
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Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell brought his feet together and then folded his left palm over his right fist. He bowed low, left leg circling his foot in the dirt and bringing it in has he crouched. His eyes closed, his head low - in a gesture that implied he felt no danger. That and respect.
Standing up he sighed, contentedly. Smiling, he crossed the short distance between them and held out an open hand. His demeanor had changed, entirely friendly now. Grayell simply wouldn't fight unless he could be a wise ass.
She sighed, but it wasn’t for weariness, rather for the small taste of battle lust. Oh, she wasn’t about to turn down his hand or his offer. But, she could have wished for the “test” to last longer. His companion obviously thought differently. He must certainly have a unique tale to tell. Ha. Tale… more like tail. Her good humor restored she stepped forward to take Grayell's hand.
So, she was hired. She didn’t even feel out of place. Odd. She wasn’t going to think of him as a master. But, her eyes lingered over the hands that had made the simple gesture of respect.