(This next blog will be a joint effort on the part of myself and Noni Boynton, the player of Antonia. The scene will be continued in the comments section)
I resolved on the way home after the attack that Antonia would never be caught unprepared again. After checking to make sure she really was ok aside from her bloodied dress, we all got some rest. The next night, I rose early as I tend to do and opened up an old box, one I hadn't touched in awhile. Inside the box rested a broad sword I had been given by my sire after I returned home from a very fateful trip to Italy, long long ago. Spanish steel nearly three and a half feet long, forged in Toledo, Spain. I ran a whetstone over it a few times, but honestly that was just habit. The edge was still there, it just needed to remember itself.
It was time to pass it on to a new owner.
I waited for Antonia to get up, readying my own sword while I was waiting for her. Eventually I heard her stirring. When she came into the study, I tossed the weapon - in it's sheath - to her.
She caught it. A good sign.
"When I was officially released by my sire, this was his gift to me. It's seen me through a number of scrapes, and now I think it's time for me to teach someone else how to use it. Come with me."
I made my way out to the courtyard.
I resolved on the way home after the attack that Antonia would never be caught unprepared again. After checking to make sure she really was ok aside from her bloodied dress, we all got some rest. The next night, I rose early as I tend to do and opened up an old box, one I hadn't touched in awhile. Inside the box rested a broad sword I had been given by my sire after I returned home from a very fateful trip to Italy, long long ago. Spanish steel nearly three and a half feet long, forged in Toledo, Spain. I ran a whetstone over it a few times, but honestly that was just habit. The edge was still there, it just needed to remember itself.
It was time to pass it on to a new owner.
I waited for Antonia to get up, readying my own sword while I was waiting for her. Eventually I heard her stirring. When she came into the study, I tossed the weapon - in it's sheath - to her.
She caught it. A good sign.
"When I was officially released by my sire, this was his gift to me. It's seen me through a number of scrapes, and now I think it's time for me to teach someone else how to use it. Come with me."
I made my way out to the courtyard.
Antonia, still swathed in blankets, examined the sword in her hand. She marveled at the craftsmanship. It looked MUCH older than her, probably even older than Tybalt. Definitely a weapon to be reckoned with.
ReplyDeleteWith a little groan she pushed herself up and put on some pants, figuring dresses weren't the best for swordplay. The ruined garment from her scuffle hung over the back of a chair and she scowled at it. I liked that dress, too, she thought with annoyance.
As she made her way to the courtyard she practiced her swings, still very amateur but getting smoother every day. Tybalt didn't bullshit around when it came to lessons, which she resented but also appreciated. She was so useless in a fight it was laughable.
"Evening," she said with a smile as she joined her sire in outside. "What kind of articulated violence am I learning today?"
"Today, I'm going to introduce you to your weapon." Tybalt waited for the perceived absurdity of that statement to sink it before he continued. "This is a sword. Specifically a broadsword. A lot of people see it, with it's sharp blade and pointy tip, and think it's a weapon. They think the blade is dangerous, but they don't know what they're talking about. You see, a sword is just a tool. Allow me to demonstrate."
ReplyDeleteTybalt took the sword from her, unsheathed it..... and dropped it on the ground between them. He looked back up at his student.
"What is your sword doing right now?""
Antonia blinked at the sword on the ground. Was this a joke? A test? She eyed Tybalt suspiciously.
ReplyDelete"... it's just sitting there..." she said, knowing there was probably actually some deep metaphorical answer to his question, but REALLY not having the patience to think about it. I mean, she just woke up for Christs sake.
"Exactly. It's doing nothing. Without you, it does nothing. The sword is just a tool, a pretty but worthless piece of steel without the person wielding it."
ReplyDelete"You are the weapon. The sword is just an extension of you. Do you understand?"
She bent and picked the sword up off the ground. "Yeah, I get it," she said, turning the hilt over a couple of times in her hand. Honestly, she felt less like a weapon and more like a kid running around with scissors most of the time. Antonia also wasn't the most patient person in the world, and all this stuff seemed a little unnecessary to her--she wanted to get to the fun part. "So, are we going to hone this weapon, or not?" She joked with a little smile.
ReplyDeleteTybalt returned her grin with one of his own and drew his sword, a slightly curved blade of Moorish origins, made of Damascus steel.
ReplyDelete"Let's see what you can do. Attack me."
(ahh sorry I took so long! I kept forgetting haha)
ReplyDeleteTaking a deep breath, she tightened her grip on the sword and fell into basic form. She then thrust her body towards Tybalt, attempting a sweeping cut from below. Her form was terrible and she knew it immediately. It would be a piece of cake for Tybalt to knock her aside.
(I just noticed this now.... I fail)
ReplyDeleteSeeing the sweep coming in, Tybalt reacted to it in a rather unconventional way - he thrust the tip of his weapon into the ground slightly in front of his left leg and stepped back two inches, keeping his hand firmly on the hilt. With the weapon braced on both ends like that, striking it improperly would be a lot like hitting a telephone pole as hard as you can with a baseball bat, sending vibrations and shocks up the arm of the person doing the striking.