entrancelogs | (no subject)

Who: Clara & D'Artagnan
Where: Vague outdoor area
When: Vagueish sometime this weekend
Rating:PG?
Summary: Clara is curious about sword fighting so she gets herself a lesson.
The Story:

After their first meeting, Clara feels secure in the fact that D'Artagnan will teach her a bit about how to handle a sword. She's not all that fond of weapons and never has necessarily had a particular interest in them before, but she likes having ways to occupy her time and with some of the warnings others have given her she thinks it's a good idea to at least be prepared. So she arranges a time for him to meet up with her outside, and ignores the little voice in the back of her head that tells her this could end in disaster.

She arrives early to their meeting spot and gives herself time to sort out her uncertainties. She doubts he'd let her hurt herself, and even if she did, it would only be a scratch or two. But still, she feels ridiculous for just so eagerly leaping at the chance to get her hands all over a sword. She tells herself that it's not just a way to pass the time, that it's also educational, and that makes her feel a little better about it. She probably shouldn't have worn a dress to do this, now that she thinks about it, but she wears one to everything else so this shouldn't be an exception.

By the time he arrives, she's entirely relaxed about the whole thing, and is found leaning up against a tree with her arms crossed over her chest. She can handle this, no problem. She's got everything under control.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No. If I were, you'd know it." Besides, he doesn't know any of the dances from after the year 1625. He'd just embarrass himself. Which Clara would probably enjoy, but he wouldn't.

"Just watch me first, then," he says, and then shuffles forward, and back, steps in front of his left foot with his right, and then behind his right foot with his left. He doesn't go very far, but his feet move quite a bit.

"Do you want me to show you again?"

She watches his feet as he moves, and then makes a first attempt at copying them while staying in place. And then she moves forward just a bit, and is able to replicate his motions well enough. So she tips her head down to watch her feet and she shuffles forward entirely, only to end up bumping her forehead right into him.

Her hand goes to her head, despite it not hurting at all, and she looks up at him. "Think I got it, actually. It could use some work, but I'm not entirely hopeless." A pause, and she frowns, glancing back down at her feet. "Am I?"

He grabs her shoulders as she bumps into him-- a careless reflex that isn't meant to do anything other than keep them from running into each other fully. They're gone in a moment. He shrugs at her question.

"No one's completely hopeless, so no, you're not. You're doing quite well. We'll practice it a few more times just for fun though."

"For fun." She agrees, looking back up so she can launch back into the footwork he's taught her. She expects him to move along with her this time, so they can turn it into a dance of sorts. One where she's not used to giving up the lead to anyone, and she probably looks ridiculous. But she's determined to figure this out and do it properly.

Yes, for fun. And to record them into her muscle memory. D'Artagnan can name any number of times when he's been in a fight and just known what to do because he'd practiced it so often. You don't even really know how to fight if you know how to move your feet. He won't tell her that, of course. No need to give her an excuse for sloppiness.

Not that she'd be sloppy but-- oh, whatever. When she starts up again he moves with her, changing it up sometimes, just to see if she'll follow.

"You're doing very well."

"Am I?" She's smiling, even while she's deep in concentration, making sure she keeps up with any changes he makes. "I think this is normally the part where people say they have a good teacher," She falls silent for a moment, glancing back down at her feet to make sure they're doing things properly.

"I'm not sure you need the boost to your ego."

D'Artagnan makes an affronted sound, but doesn't actually mind much, because she said it, didn't she? That he's a good teacher. Even if she didn't say it about him specifically. She said it in that way that Clara says all things. It's fine. He knows you, Clara. He's got your number now!

So, he smiles. "Yes, but I thank you for the boost nonetheless."

"In that case, you're welcome." She softly laughs, glancing up from her feet to look at him. She is doing good, at least as good as it can get when it comes to foot work, and so she pauses and glances back in the direction of the swords.

"Can we try it with the real thing now?"

D'Artagnan makes an appraising face. She does have the footwork down pretty well, but he'll have to teach her how to move the sword properly, which he was going to save for another day. But the footwork didn't take too long, so he supposes he can indulge her.

"Yes, but--" He holds up a finger. "You'll be very careful and listen to what I tell you, yes?"

She gives him a slightly scathing look, one that clearly says she'll be careful and listen within reason. "Oh, you're going to enjoy this a little too much, aren't you?"

She reaches out to take hold of his finger and gives it a slight squeeze, and then makes her way on over to where he's left the swords, dragging him along after her.

He's not going to abuse any power he may ~~or may not~~ hold over her as her instructor, because that would be rude. And it'd lose her trust, and then he wouldn't be able to teach her and it'd all be very bad.

"I don't know, I may not enjoy it at all," he says as he's tugged along with her. He picks up his sword and waits for her to gather hers.

"All right, stand to my right, but at least four feet away, all right?" He doesn't want to knick you with the sword.

Yes, the last thing Clara needs is a cut across her face for standing too close to the sharp end of a sword. So she listens well and stands a good distance away, and brings her sword up as she takes on the position he's taught her. It feels awkward and clumsy, but she knows she'll pick it up in no time, with enough practice.

"I'm ready." She informs him, a very confident smirk on her face. "Sir." She adds on, just to rub at him for being her teacher and saying he won't enjoy this at all. She'll make him eat those words.