(no subject)

[swords-love-me.livejournal.com]

Date: September 28th, 2000
Status: Public
Setting: Manor Grounds
Summary: War holds a practice session

It was shortly after lunch when War strode out into the grounds, a duffel bag slung over each shoulder. She hadn't eaten much, partly out of a reluctance to fill her stomach before fighting, partly out of a rather odd feeling that she would have assumed was nerves, were she not War and therefore not someone who got nervous. Truth be told, she wasn't really sure what she was planning to do - she'd never run an organised practice session before - at least, not one like she suspected this would be.

Still, she was limbered up, and she'd brought weapons along with her - mostly padded practice weapons. Now all she needed was some of the Manor guests to turn up...

Comments

[swords-love-me.livejournal.com]

"What it sounds like, really," War said. "Whoever wants to gets to turn up and do some training for a while. I hadn't got any fixed plans because I didn't know who was going to turn up, and how much they'd know." She looked at him speculatively. "How much do you know?"

[classic-palm.livejournal.com]

Shadow shrugged.

"What you learn on the street, mostly. I'm good with my fists, and can handle a knife okay in a pinch."

He'd never had to yet, being as big as he was, but working at the Muscle Farm had taught him some things, and being in prison had taught him a lot more.


(omg I can never ever type/read 'Muscle Farm' without bursting out laughing)

[swords-love-me.livejournal.com]

War nodded. "Not a bad start. If you can handle yourself on the street, you've got to have a bit of a natural sense of timing and balance or you'd be lying in the gutter pretty sharp."

War had never ended up in the gutter herself, but she'd put a few people there in the past.

"Show me your fist," she said.

[classic-palm.livejournal.com]

Shadow made a fist, curling his fingers inward beginning at the middle knuckles and placing his thumb over the backsides of his fingers where it would not risk either being broken or dislocated by his punch.

He held his fisted hand out to her, wrist and elbow aligned mostly out of habit, and his hands slightly loose, since he wasn't actually throwing the punch yet.

[swords-love-me.livejournal.com]

War nodded. "You do know what you're talking about, then," she said. "I've seen a lot of people with broken wrists from having the force to punch but not getting the wrist straight."

She held up her own fist, and added, "In my case, keeping the thumb out the way lets me keep the nails long too. Never know when they might come in handy." She grinned.