Sascha Connolly, Ph.D. (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bohemiarhapsody) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} nosuchplace,@ 2008-12-08 15:53:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Wednesday: October 31, 2007
Who: Sascha and Katy
Where: Training Terrace
When: Mid-afternoon
What: Arrrgh, swash swash buckle buckle XD
Advance, lunge, recover. With no small amount of juvenile humor, Sascha took a moment to acquaint himself with the joys of thrusting.
The sword in his hand was a mostly unfamiliar weight, and he'd already spent a good half hour or so trying to wield his new blade in a manner befitting his costume. It had taken nearly a decade for him to develop the outfit to its full potential, occasionally adding a sash here or some beadwork there. Annie had been alive to see the costume in its original incarnation all those years ago, and her reaction had simply been to grin and tell him he looked like a gay Captain Morgan; that was confirmation enough for Sascha. He was glad he'd thought to haul it here to Elysium with the rest of his mementos.
Normally he'd have been on-shift at the library at this time of day, but since the place had been virtually empty all morning, he'd convinced one of the elven aides to keep an eye on things while he headed out early. His second stop (the first being the restaurant for some lunch, of course) was the weaponsmith's shop, and he'd come away with a beautifully weathered old cutlass to complement his pirate getup. The blade could probably benefit from some sharpening, but Sascha didn't really care- he wasn't intending to slit any throats, after all. He just wanted something (relatively) shiny to make the costume look more authentic.
The Training Terrace had seemed like a logical place to practice his swordsmanship, and it had only taken five minutes of hack-and-slash before one of the trainers from the combat gym had approached him and offered to give him a few fencing pointers. Not that a cutlass was really designed for all the fancy techniques of something like a foil or rapier, she'd explained with a smile and a wink. No, a cutlass was perfectly suited for someone with little experience because of its simplicity of use; hacking and slashing were totally acceptable.
She'd taught Sascha a handful of moves and their accompanying terms, which he was now trying to commit to memory, before leaving him to practice on his own. Ever true to character, he'd curled his fingers over her shoulder and suggested another time and place for some private instruction, to which she'd replied that he'd have to learn how to make a proper thrust before anything could really happen. For the moment, that's exactly what had monopolized his attention. Cross over, lunge, recover. Damn, his thighs were really starting to hurt.
Who: Sascha and Katy
Where: Training Terrace
When: Mid-afternoon
What: Arrrgh, swash swash buckle buckle XD
Advance, lunge, recover. With no small amount of juvenile humor, Sascha took a moment to acquaint himself with the joys of thrusting.
The sword in his hand was a mostly unfamiliar weight, and he'd already spent a good half hour or so trying to wield his new blade in a manner befitting his costume. It had taken nearly a decade for him to develop the outfit to its full potential, occasionally adding a sash here or some beadwork there. Annie had been alive to see the costume in its original incarnation all those years ago, and her reaction had simply been to grin and tell him he looked like a gay Captain Morgan; that was confirmation enough for Sascha. He was glad he'd thought to haul it here to Elysium with the rest of his mementos.
Normally he'd have been on-shift at the library at this time of day, but since the place had been virtually empty all morning, he'd convinced one of the elven aides to keep an eye on things while he headed out early. His second stop (the first being the restaurant for some lunch, of course) was the weaponsmith's shop, and he'd come away with a beautifully weathered old cutlass to complement his pirate getup. The blade could probably benefit from some sharpening, but Sascha didn't really care- he wasn't intending to slit any throats, after all. He just wanted something (relatively) shiny to make the costume look more authentic.
The Training Terrace had seemed like a logical place to practice his swordsmanship, and it had only taken five minutes of hack-and-slash before one of the trainers from the combat gym had approached him and offered to give him a few fencing pointers. Not that a cutlass was really designed for all the fancy techniques of something like a foil or rapier, she'd explained with a smile and a wink. No, a cutlass was perfectly suited for someone with little experience because of its simplicity of use; hacking and slashing were totally acceptable.
She'd taught Sascha a handful of moves and their accompanying terms, which he was now trying to commit to memory, before leaving him to practice on his own. Ever true to character, he'd curled his fingers over her shoulder and suggested another time and place for some private instruction, to which she'd replied that he'd have to learn how to make a proper thrust before anything could really happen. For the moment, that's exactly what had monopolized his attention. Cross over, lunge, recover. Damn, his thighs were really starting to hurt.