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Skwisgaar Skwigelf (Post-Dethklok) ([info]goodbettermetal) wrote in [info]utr_logs,
@ 2008-06-26 00:21:00

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Entry tags:skwisgaar skwigelf (post-dethklok)

Who: Skwisgaar the Elder and Roadie 359
What: Sword Lessons
Where: Mini-Mordhaus
When: Late Night.
Warnings: Swearing, brutality, high possibility of flirting on the guitarist's part.

It wasn't as if Skwisgaar had much of a choice. The doctors had told him to call them once he'd gotten through the stages of grief to tell them what he wanted to do as far as treatment was concerned. He was alright with taking the medication, and eating more healthful foods (He didn't eat bad food to begin with, his diet wasn't the concern), but they'd spoken quite long on the options of drug withdrawal. The doctor had decided that since it was to the point where it would likely be more detrimental to Skwisgaar to quit, that what the rock star was doing with heroin was the best course of action. However, Skwisgaar would have to quit smoking, and cut down drinking.

He also had to get exercise. Which was why he had finally wandered downstairs, out to the back yard, where there were a handful of newbie roadies practicing, and one senior Klokateer training them all. He wandered towards her and nodded, dismissing the rest of them with a wave of his hand. "Stupids dildos exercise, I forgots on how tirings it just evens looks."

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 06:54 am UTC (link)
She grinned as the newbies scattered. She'd told them to work on their drink-mixing skills if the lesson ended early, so she knew that's where they were headed. Those were their favorite practice sessions, and she knew she had to re-build their trust in her again after she'd cut off part of 4's pinky finger and eaten it during sparring. They were scared. They should be. But, strangely, she was deeply proud of them. It wasn't an emotion she'd really ever felt before.

She bowed as Skwisgaar approached. A feeling that something was wrong with this lingered in the back of her mind- she knew about the doctor trip of course, it was her job to know. It had to be pretty bad to get him to do any kind of physical activity beyond sex and guitar playing. But she wouldn't pry.

Grabbing a dull-edged metal sword she handed it to him hilt-first, and took another for herself. They were pretty rough on practice weapons down here and there was really no point in sharpening or polishing things they were just going to beat on anyways.

"Shall we begin, my Lord? I can start off easy if it's been a while." She didn't want to insult his pride but she had never seen him use a sword before and she didn't know exactly how good he'd been with it.

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 07:15 am UTC (link)
With the exception of work-related screen-friendly swordplay, Skwisgaar knew precisely dick about it. He didn't realize that play-acting wasn't the same thing. Then again, it was Skwisgaar.

He held the sword, getting a feel for its weight before he made a decision. "I uh. Takes it slow an' easies. Old man, you knows." He got into a defensive stance, both hands on the grip. "I just don'ts does on this for a vury long sorts of time."

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 07:50 am UTC (link)
"No problem." She smiled underneath the hood, but it should show in her eyes. This is what she loves doing, and she's excited to share it with him. More emotions she doesn't normally feel.

"Okay. So we'll start out exactly the way I start everybody out. What the longsword class is based off of is an Italian master from the 1400's named Fiore, and his book, translated as 'The Flower of Battle.'" She kept this part of the lecture to a minimum, knowing full well Skwisgaar would probably get bored real fast if she started getting into the details of the manuscript. "Basically he taught everybody how to fight with the longsword, and his techniques were so perfect that nobody's been able to improve on them. There are a certain number of 'guards' from which you can move your sword efficiently to defend yourself." She got into the correct stance and demonstrated, moving her sword from two different guards, telling him that the first, where her sword was held over her right shoulder, was called "guard of the woman," and that the second, where she swung it over her shoulder and down to her left side, hands near her hips, was called "boar's tooth." "Each strike of the sword is a movement from one guard to the other. So what I'm going to do today is just show you the footwork first- I'll start you off in one guard, get used to moving back and forth in that guard and in that stance. It's going to burn, a lot, in your arms and legs. After that, if you're up to it, I'll show you the different guards and we'll work on form. Eventually you'll be doing drills, memorizing different combinations of guards."

There, that was fairly simple. She checked his stance, found it to need some work. "Legs shoulder-width apart please, move your left foot back a bit, angle it like this," she turned her back to him and mimicked the stance, then turned back around to make sure he got it. "And knees slightly bent, back straight." Now the sword. She positioned the sword loosely in front of him, point angled downwards, and moved his fingers in minor adjustment. "You need your pinky this way to give yourself better control when you swing." It felt really wrong correcting Skwisgaar, but she couldn't hesitate to do it, otherwise he'd never learn this right.

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 08:08 am UTC (link)
Skwisgaar was very nearly bored at the first sentence of the history, but he did perk back up once they got into the actual learning of it. He was a better student than he would have been in her time, he worked intently to be in the right position, and nodded, osmosing the stance, understanding how it worked. It wasn't an uncomfortable position for him, which, in an odd spark of logic, he could understand. It was meant to be comfortable -- a warrior had to feel comfortable in their pose to feel confident -- and he rolled his shoulders before he held the sword more confidently.
"Ja, hokays I thinks I got that rights." He looked up at the hooded woman, waiting for the next step.

He had never worried about asking others to teach him, when he desired to learn. It was just incredibly rare that he wanted to learn something other than guitar. And it was even more rare that he'd want to learn more after the first lesson, and that in itself would be a trial for the roadie girl to face. However, this was a circumstance that he'd never been in before. He'd have to press himself to continue, no matter how much he didn't like doing it, however boring it was or how annoying it would be having to repeat motions over, and over again. It was literally a matter of life or death.

He got a smug smile at that. Hey, something was a matter of life or death for him. Metal.

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 08:30 am UTC (link)
She could have beamed with pride right there. He was actually learning something that she was teaching him, actually listening to her and trying to do it right. God this was so cool. The groupie within her soul got a giddy rush for a second. The grin on her face could not be stopped, despite all efforts to appear emotionless.

She zoned back into teacher mode, still grinning like a fool. "Okay, so you got your stance, and right now you're in the guard called 'half iron gate'. We're going to walk forwards and back, keeping the correct stance. Each time I say 'forward,' take one step forward. Each time I say 'back' take one step back, easy. The amount of steps I'll have us take in either direction will be entirely random. The purpose is to kind of get you to zen out and do the simon-says thing without overthinking it. This is how we move:" She demonstrated taking a step forward, and taking one back. She put her right foot forward first, and then kind of shuffled the back foot up behind her. On the reverse, the rear foot went first.

"There's a couple things to remember. Keep your sword steady and in the correct position. Keep your weight mostly on the ball of your rear foot. Knees bent, back straight, just like you are now. Don't let the point of the sword hit the ground."

She got into stance next to him so she could keep an eye on his movements. "Ready?" She called out forward and back randomly like she said she would, taking them eventually up towards the moat and then backwards towards the house. It's about a half-hour of staying in one position while moving.

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 08:48 am UTC (link)
Oh yeah. This was very, very boring. But Skwisgaar, being the perfectionist he was, didn't stop just due to the boredom. He was just fine with repetition, only because that was his life. Practice in itself -- guitar practice, not sword -- was nothing but repetition of scales and songs and chords and all the things that made him him.

He wouldn't let himself down. He wanted to be able to feel how hard he'd worked, he knew he'd be incredibly sore in the morning afternoon. He looked to the roadie after about five minutes of this back and forth shuffling and tutted. "I is know how to moves my feet, I has been walkings for abouts fifty four years."

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 09:02 am UTC (link)
She couldn't help but laugh at the snarky comment, laughing itself being another unusual occurance for her. "It's different from regular walking, my Lord. It's -swordsman- walking."

She kept an eye on his steps and position, pausing very occasionally to correct him, but he didn't need much correction at all. He was a good student, better than most of her boys on their first days, and she told him so. Once they'd gotten back to their original position, she introduced stepping sideways and diagonally, then led them all over the yard in various random directions for roughly another half-hour before returning to their starting place.

She was intensely pleased with the success of this first lesson, but realizes he's probably tired. "You want a break, Lord Skwisgaar, or do you want to learn guards?"

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 09:18 am UTC (link)
He didn't feel a sense of pride - he would have if that wasn't generally his standard emotion. He did, however, feel rather exhausted after that. "I thinks... a break." He said, thrusting the sword down into the ground, before shuffling to a bench near the wall of the castle and took a deep breath, sighing it out. His heart was pounding, he had chest pains. He wouldn't have even noticed it if it weren't for the day's events.

"You comes from 2008s, ja? Dats times in the uh..." He searched for the word, "Dat's place with the rivers and Nathans peoples things." He took another deep breath, realizing how out of breath he actually was. "I is gots a vurygood questions to beings ask."

He looked up at the roadie, "Does I ever gets a heart hurts like dis befores den?" It was a roadie's job, he figured, to take any signs of illness into consideration.

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 09:36 am UTC (link)
She popped open a cooler she'd left next to the wall and handed him a mostly cold bottle of water from it, knowing he'd need it.

Analyzing the pain on his face, her good mood broke. So there was the evidence of how bad it had gotten. She nodded. "Once. You went to the doctor. He told you to stop smoking and drinking and doing drugs. You told him he was a dildo. He said, 'Whatever, you guys never listen anyways, fuck it we'll just replace your heart when it becomes a problem.'" She wasn't surprised he didn't remember. They'd all been to the doctor a lot. She really disliked the doctor's attitude but he was always right, and they did never listen to him. She shrugged. "I think they medical staff were more worried about the ODing than the heart condition at the time."

Shit, she'd pushed him too hard on his first day. Her hand went to the cell phone in her jeans pocket, ready to summon every ambulance in London if needed. "Are you okay?"

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 09:48 am UTC (link)
He listened and chuckled, just the once, and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "Ja. I is does on thats a lots." He knew he'd been a dick to the doctor - he always hated doctors anyway. He shrugged it off as just the doctors being overprotective of their greatest asset, and only now that he wasn't the be all and end all of guitar and music in general, he realized that it wasn't just being a meal ticket.

He looked up. "Goings to be fine, just a bit hard to deals you know? Nothings I ain'ts deals with whole lots of times before." He leaned back and took a long drink of water. "I fuckings wants a goddamn smoke. Is whats I wants." But he'd gone and given all his cigarettes to Pickles - Valhalla knew that the goddamn Drummer could fucking smoke all he wanted and he wouldn't have any adverse effects. Lucky son of a bitch.

"I tells on de little mes to comes to trains with you when he cans. I suggests vury highlies dat you is makes him, no matters whats he is says on abouts it. He ain'ts a parts of Dethklok yet. You ain'ts gots no ties to obeys on him, you can still tells him whats to does." He smirked then, "And if you still is thinks abouts it, is doings me a favors in de longs runs? Hn?"

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 10:13 am UTC (link)
She released her death-grip on the phone once she figured out he was going to be alright. "Is there anything non-lethal I can get for you?"

She sighed at his mention of cigarettes. She wanted one too- badly- but she wasn't going to smoke in front of him, it would be torture for the poor guy. Instead she cracked open a water bottle, pulled off the hood so it wouldn't be in the way of her mouth and chugged the whole thing down.

Smiling again, the roadie imagined what it was going to be like to try to teach young-Skwisgaar anything. Probably completely impossible. "I'll train him as best I can, my Lord." It was a good thing he'd given her permission to disobey his young-self, otherwise 359 would have no shot in hell of keeping his attention for more than a second.

Now that her paranoia over the safety of her boss had been re-awakened, she made a mental note of shit to get done tomorrow:

Number 4 would be assigned to get all the roadies signed up for CPR classes on staggered dates so they weren’t all gone at once. 359 had her license to practice and instruct CPR, but that was useless as it was currently in another dimension.

Number 8 would be assigned to install defibrillators in most of the rooms and hallways, and outside.

Number 11, 19, 21 and 27 would be given the task of cleaning out the damn moat.

Number 30's chore tomorrow would be to get a blueprint of the castle or draw up a rough map if no blueprints were available, label all the rooms and make five copies, one for her and one for each of the future/current/past band members, whom she'd request mark off what rooms they didn't want security cameras in.

And lastly, number 22's job tomorrow was to sign elder-Skwisgaar up for something 359 had seen on late-night tv- a panic button he could carry on him that would summon an ambulance without any phone call necessary.

She was glad as hell there were enough roadies to accomplish all this, she certainly couldn't do it all on her own.

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 10:26 am UTC (link)
He huffed a chuckle again, "Ja. A goddamns smoke?" He snorted, "One little cigarettes ain'ts is goings to kills me." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and huffed, "Goddamns old age goings to makes me feels fucking dildos for evers now, p'fft. Goings to bes de fucking boss of me and de others fucks dat." He turned to her, "You knows, I wouldn't have ever believes me sayings dis years ago but I kinda startings to miss Ofdensen. He is has a vury hard jobs to deals with dem, you knows? I feels like fuckings grandspas dealings with de dudes now."

He shook his head, "We is needs a manager." He thought aloud more often than not these days, mostly when there was an ear to listen. "Sometimes, you knows, to gets dems more focus on things. Toki ain't gots a practice in for a whole two weeks and slacks off hangs out with Brenda Annn and de babies and all dats. Pickle don't fuckings cares, always drunks and high, p'fft. Only ones dats is does anythings arounds here is de little me and me. We ain'ts gots Nathans, Murderface, pah don't needs him vury much." He took another drink of water and looked out at the moat, where a fish was still floating up on its side.

"Haven'ts gots even a single songs writtens this whole times we is here and is complete dildos. Dis won't stands for longs. Goings to disappoints on a lots of you little tiny fanpeoples and roadies if we don't gets our acts togethers."

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 10:43 am UTC (link)
Defying all of her training and gritting her teeth, she shook her head when he asked for a smoke. She wasn't going to give him one if she could help it, but if he pressed the issue she probably wouldn't be able to deny him much longer.

Now speaking of Ofdensen, she frowned. "I miss him too," she murmured. He'd been a good boss, been the backbone, the one who kept everything going smoothly. Her job here is a lot harder without him to delegate tasks and do all the thinking. Now recognizing the possibility that this could all fall apart, she bit her lip in depressed contemplation. "I miss Lord Nathan." She paused. "..And Lord Murderface. And the shows. I miss... brutality."

She shrugged it off. "There's nothing you could do to disturb my devotion or make me regret serving, my Lord. These new roadies aren't like the old ones exactly, but I know they feel it too, and will serve whether or not you ever play again. You have us 'til death." She couldn't say anything for the fans- she didn't know any on this world yet.

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 10:53 am UTC (link)
He looked over at her, seeing her shaken resolve made him realize how hard it was on someone who wasn't used to being Elsewhere, someone who didn't know that Elsewhere existed. He put his hand on 359's shoulder, "Ja. You don't got to worries on it, 359. You will haves a tough time to trains them guys. Someone is gots to. And dats is your jobs now. But if I gots here, an' Pickle an' Toki, Nathans will shows up eventuallies, ja? An' Murderface. We is connecteds, you knows. Is a different sorts of thing, the connections of a band, and a connections of us? But it will happens. You gets on one of us, you gets us all."
He slid his hand off her shoulder and took one last deep breath, more a sigh to see if his chest had unbound itself in the process of sitting and relaxing. He decided to give himself a few more minutes before starting again.

"An' Charlies is comes back too. Eventuallies. You don't worries your tiny little brainmatters over it, 359." He turned to face her, looking her in the eye, "You is a vury strong roadie. You is has a low number, dats means you has been with us for since the beginnings. You survives all dats? You will survives dis."

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 11:13 am UTC (link)
Cursing herself for her temporary weakness the roadie dropped to one knee and bowed her head. "I don't doubt you." His words were reassuring.

She looked up and watched his slow recovery, wishing again that she hadn't pushed him so hard but glad at the same time because it was good for him. It was strange, having to obey one order that caused him discomfort- the sword training, and disobey another that would have made him happier in the short term- the cigarette. Again, she wasn't used to doing the thinking.

Her mouth turned upwards at the praise. "Thank you, master. I don't care about survival. I just want to see you all together again, and happy."

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 11:23 am UTC (link)
"And I wants you to sees that it makes us happies to sees our little slaves being happy sorts of people." He said, shaking his head a little. It was nice to know that she showed nothing but mindless obedience because it was the way the Klokateers worked. But on the other hand, she was probably going to be the last real roadie he'd ever see - whether it be in this world or any other. Their world was doomed, fucking blown up to oblivion with her on it and hey, at least they survived, and she did her job until the end.
However, the bowing got annoying even back then. "Don'ts bows to me, roadie, you is short enoughs compare to me dats is not likes you makes yourself under me even more." He rolled his eyes, "Let's get back into the trainings, 359."

He was ready to go again, he didn't want to lose his motivation. This was something he'd push himself into even if he had to cough up blood to do it. He wasn't going to let himself die just because it was supposedly his time. Fuck fate, fuck mortality. Rock Gods never died.

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 12:03 pm UTC (link)
She jumped back up to her feet immediately. She'd probably never bow again to him, she burned things like that into her brain and made certain she remembered. She nodded and pulled the hood back down over her face, having forgotten she'd taken it off to drink.

Being in this world was doing things to her, minor changes, though she didn't realize it. By necessity, she was thinking more- orchestrating the building of a future army, overseeing the small part of that army that currently exists, training enough of them to replace her in case of her death, analyzing the threats to her bosses both native and non-native to this world and natural and supernatural and coming up with enough defense for it all, knowing exactly how much rests on her shoulders. She's no longer simply a cog in the wheel of Klok, only because it doesn't serve Dethklok's best interests anymore. As their needs change, so did she. When things go back to normal, perhaps she will too.

She yanked his sword out of the ground where he'd stuck it, wiped the dirt off on her jeans and handed it back to him. She grabbed her own sword back. "Okay, so I told you we would work on the guards." She turned her back to him and got back in one of the positions from earlier, with the sword over her shoulder. "You remember this one- Guard of the Woman. The sword is behind your back, tricky like a woman." She grinned, though he couldn't see it. She swung the sword out and down, into the position by her hip, same as earlier. "Boar's tooth. When you swing, it's important to do it with enough control that you don't hit the ground with your sword. So for right now, go for accuracy, not speed or power. The point of having an edged weapon is that it does the work for you, it should cut right through flesh like butter. So you never need to swing it hard, and therefore you save your endurance as well."

She demonstrated the others, Full iron gate, Window, Half iron gate, Short guard, Tail guard, Crown guard, and Long guard, just letting him choose whether he wanted to just watch or attempt to mimic her motions, and she held the positions for a moment while she explained briefly what they were good for. She went through them all in an order that made them fluidly follow one another, making it seem natural that one led to the other.

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-26 12:26 pm UTC (link)
He listened to her instruction and let it sink in, and did what he could to practice the Guard of the Woman for at least a dozen times, until he got it perfect, and even beyond that, memorizing exactly how far his arms should flex so the sword would stop in the proper guard. After he remembered that, speeding the movement was easy, and all the guards became simple. The weight of the sword became ingrained in his movements just like a chord progression, and then he raised a brow to the roadie girl.

"You gots anything a real challenge for me?" Smug.

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-26 09:22 pm UTC (link)
She watched while he showed her the guards, and nodded her approval. He's getting good.

"Well I don't know if you'll consider it a challenge my Lord, but I have your first drill. As you know, the strike of the sword is merely a transition from one guard to the next. Almost every stroke you do will be on a diagonal line, like this" she cut from Tail guard up into Window, "It's a subtle diagonal, never a 45 degree angle and never a vertical line, because a human being fits into approximately this space," she drew a rectangle in the air with her sword, "and you want to cut as much of him as possible. The other type of strike is like this," she cut from Guard of the Woman in a horizontal line to reverse-Window, "and that's to cut their throat or take their head."

"So, keeping that in mind, we're going to drill the guards one at a time, slow at first, in the order I showed you them. Every time I call one out, take a step forward while you strike and end in the guard I called. We'll start slow, and then we'll get faster. That's the first drill. Still keep your sword from hitting the ground." She smirked, thinking of the first day she trained the roadies on the longsword. "I make the boys do push-ups for every time they hit the earth with their swords, but obviously that doesn't apply to you."

Exactly as she'd said, they went through the guards one by one, slow at first, then quicker, until thought was removed and all that was left was the natural fluid movement of the sword. She stayed in front of him instead of at his side, so that he could watch the way her hands and feet moved and perfect the little subtleties of each guard. In about twenty minutes they were up by the moat again.

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[info]goodbettermetal
2008-06-27 01:29 am UTC (link)
He wasn't a bad pupil, when he wanted to learn. And even though he couldn't get the same wind that he'd had when he first arrived. He was, however, very glad to be working out, doing something he enjoyed to learn. And she knew how to keep his attention on the aspects of swordplay he liked - the killy part.

He hadn't jumped ahead mentally. He was just interested in the guards, he didn't realize that they were going to be useful somewhere.

He looked at the roadie once they had gotten to the moat and he held his guard, brow raised, "Hn, you is vurygood at a swords work." He stood up then, back straight, head tilted slightly to one side. "You is dat roadies dats is eats peoples, ain'ts you? You eats dat guys finger? I is suppose you knows on how to swordsplay good aforcause you has eats on a brain or two." He rolled his shoulders and neck.

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[info]robyngraves
2008-06-27 11:27 am UTC (link)
"Thank you, my Lord. I enjoy it. One of the best parts of my job is when we get to pick up something sharp and slice somebody with it." She grinned.

"Yeah, I ate his finger. ...Part of it, anyway. Scared the crap out of them, they won't spar with me anymore." She hadn't killed anybody since she got here though, and the desire for it itched in her bones. Which reminded her, she was going to have to fanagle some time out of the day soon to meet with Sweeny Todd. Otherwise, there was a good chance next time she lost her temper with the trainees (as patient as she is with Skwisgaar, her usual training methods are much, much harsher) she could lose it completely and the first roadie death would be on her shoulders. She couldn't afford to replace any of them, so that wasn't an option.

"That would be pretty sweet if when I ate peoples' brains I could absorb their knowledge." She took that comment seriously, it seems. In fact, she was just then scheming perhaps killing like, a genius, so she could finally figure out math.

She pulled herself out of that thought. "So. When you're fighting somebody, to avoid getting yourself diced up, you're often going to have to retreat from an attack. The two most useful things to do while retreating are; to block their strike, or preferably to bat their strike aside and return with one of your own while they're caught in striking distance. Which is why we'll also do this drill on the reverse." And so they do, backwards to where they started, starting at mid-speed instead of slow and working up to fast.

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