Marguerite Krux (dontknowmyname) wrote in snapthread, @ 2019-08-07 18:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | marguerite krux, miles morales (sv) |
WHO: Marguerite and Miles
WHAT: Meeting/Fencing Training talk
WHERE: Courtyard
WHEN: Now
RATING: PG-13 just to be safe.
Marguerite was slowly getting used to this place. Sure it was strange, but she had seen her share of strange during her years on the plateau....and even before that, really. She hadn't planned on making so many friends, but it seemed her time with the others had softened her heart more than even she had realized. She decided that this person that was so interested in learning fencing might be another good friend to make. Giving him lessons would be a good way to pass the time here, and besides it might wind up saving his life or maybe even hers if they were to have to fight someone or something together. Of course there was the fact that they would have to find swords or maybe even make some, but those were hurdles that could be crossed as time passed. For right now she would just need to know what other kinds of fighting training the young man had and how much of her fencing training he wanted her to share. She knew her fair share about swords, knives, guns....basically anything that could be used in a confrontation to save her life she had made sure she knew how to handle it.
Her switchblade knife was still in her boot, and of course she never went anywhere without her pistol and her whip. Both were fastened securely to her belt as she made her way through the courtyard, looking for the person she was meant to meet. After circling the courtyard twice she decided that she must have beat him there, so she made her way over to a patch of ground out of the walkway and sat down to watch for a new arrival. She reached down into her boot and pulled out the switchblade knife and began to open and close it, occasionally twirling it around. It was clear that handling this knife was second nature to her, because it wasn't long that she was humming a tune her mind clearly elsewhere. But the knife twirling never faltered and she never seemed to miss a twirl.
Her mind wondered to where she knew it shouldn't go, thinking of the friends she had left behind. Getting lost in those thoughts was dangerous and she knew it, so she forced herself to take a deep breath and focus on the blade in her hand. She twirled it one more time, snapped it close and slid it back in her boot.