ic The Espadas School: You Hold This End IC

[Semi-Autogyro]

When Erik opened the cabinet it was more revealing that what John could ascertain from the man himself and answered his previous question. The wear present on them and sheer number of unique swords that his newfound instructor posessed indicated that he was more than likely a skilled master when it came to the blade. I wonder how Mona knows him, he thought to himself idly before focusing on the task at hand.

John stepped up to the cabinet and surveyed the weapons, beginning to formulate a mental list of what he needed and looked for in a weapon: adaptability, utility, and durability. It was something that had been drilled into him both physically and mentally. He had a passing familiarity with fencing weapons from Etain, but he had found them to be a bit too fragile in practice. The reverse was true of the massive Zweihander hanging from the left side of the cabinet which sacrificed speed for power.

Now that he had excluded a good two thirds of the cabinet, he picked up various remaining weapons to get a feel for their heft and balance. More returned back to the rack until he had narrowed his field down to two candidates: the longsword or the katana. The clone hero thought to his other weapons training and how he could best apply it to either of the swords. The closest equivalent he had for sword fighting was knife fighting, John surmized, which favored penetrating stabs and deep slices to incapacitate foes.

Of the two weapons in his hands John thought that the best analogue would be the katana, with its slight curve making it a relatively upsized fighting knife. Returning the longsword gently back to the cabinet and stepping back to let one of the others choose he made his way back to the mats. The quick draw techniques that existed for this weapon should easily synchronize with my preferred combat tactics, John noted as he looked to see what his fellow students chose for themselves.

[Fox]

Tarrant didn't have to think terribly long - he gave John a moment to pick out his weapon of choice, using the time give the collection an appreciative whistle, before stepping up and going straight for a simple arming sword.

He hefted it, carefully, like he was comparing it to something else...which he was. Huh. Wonder if mine's actually lighter, or just feels lighter. Balance isn't quite the same, though.... He did, at least, catch himself before resting his off-hand on a nonexistant scabbard.

"Quite a collection you have," he complimented, stepping away and testing the non-existent edge of his choice. "A little bit of something for anyone, I guess."

[Tiffany Korta]

Blodeuwedd cast her eyes over the selection of weapons on display; she had a passing familiarity with all of them. She quickly discounted most of them she was her after all to improve her ability with Dyrnwyn. She selected a long sword of a similar design as her own sword and begun to test its balance. It felt weird to wield a sword not on fire maybe that was why the balance didn’t feel as good as her own.

Satisfied with her choice she laid the sword with in front of her with some reference before she begun a series of warm up exercises.

[April]

Eve spent a little more time than the others, weighing her options, for the majority of the weapons on display were a little too large for someone of her height; even the arming sword one of them picked up appeared just long enough to be more of a hindrance than provide any sort of advantage.

The problem, she realized, was that her psychic construct only superficially resembled the blades on display and she wouldn't find anything that matched up exactly--even if they were identical in form, her constructs were effectively weightless.

"Indeed, this is quite the impressive collection," she agreed, reaching for the slender side-sword. If nothing else, the length of the blade was something she was accustom to.

[Gizmo]

Erik watched in silence as each student selected their blade. John's mental elimination process was written clearly in his careful adjudication as the young man's eyes flicked from weapon to weapon. From many youth, Erik would have guessed the selection of a katana as being largely for aesthetic reasons; like many of the swords in the cabinet it summoned up imagery of an entire culture or warriors. Not so with the serious blond however. The way he weighed it and the longsword experimentally in his hand suggested he was thinking of past experience with other implements and that the curved, slicing blade won out on that count. Military style training, he reminded himself. Probably knows his way around a combat knife. Have to watch to see how he handles the added reach.

From the others he similarly detected the influence of previous experience in their decisions. Tarrant obviously knew exactly what he was after, going straight for the deceptively simple arming sword. The knight's weapon fit well enough with the easy-going academic's poised attitude. His faint surprise at the weight made Erik wonder if he'd been right about Tarrant's previous experience being with prop blades but he reminded himself not to make assumptions so soon. Blodeuwedd chose a longsword as well, though of a different design. Her small frown as she tested its balance told him that she was used to handling the real thing, not blunted training swords of somewhat dubious quality. It obviously didn't cause her more than a moment's pause as she moved to begin a warm-up routine. Definitely looking for the closest match to something else, both of them. Who buys a particular sword then figures out how to use it? ...probably a lot of people, right.

Eve took the longest to decide of the four and Erik got the impression it wasn't because of the wealth of choices. Granted, the petite young woman's stature narrowed the feasible options a fair bit. Don't imagine her trying to use a claymore, he chastised himself inwardly, that's just mean. It seemed more like she just wasn't finding quite what she was looking for, unusual given what he modestly considered a helluva collection. The side sword she compromised on was an interesting choice, light and relatively short compared to the others, definitely in keeping with the graceful way Eve carried herself.

"Your choice of sword says a lot about you," he noted as he reached into the cabinet himself and very deliberately wrapped his fingers around the hilt of a rapier. "But not that much. So don't sweat it, huh?" He pulled the blade out with a grin and a brief flourish of his wrist. "As for the collection, well, they kinda build up over time. Some people collect spoons, y'know?"

[Semi-Autogyro]

John raised an eyebrow at the mention of collecting spoons. "I would be most concerned if I ever had to resort to the use of silverware in self-defense." He said blithely as he performed a quick military-style sword salute with the katana. Seemingly appeased, the blonde took a few more swings to get a gauge of the engagement distance of the weapon.

He quickly got a baseline opinion of the weapon. Not as good in close quarters as a knife, but had the reach of a bayonet thrust. The speed felt about the same as butt-stroking an opponent with a rifle. When he returned back to Claremont, John would attempt to make and refine an analogue to practice with outside of the lessons. He would probably modify it further, but he would still practice with the baseline weapon instead of any variants he made.

[Fox]

"Hey, you joke, but in a city like this you know that someone somewhere out there is fighting the forces of evil with butter knives and soup spoons," Tarrant only half-jokingly pointed out, still toying with the weight of his arming sword by holding it out - pointed well away from the others - and adjusting his grip to find somewhere comfortable. I think my hilt's a little longer, too.... "The mysterious Silverware Man, defender of justice: the one being brave enough to master which fork goes with which dish at a fancy party."

[April]

"You'd be surprised what you can do with a spoon," Eve remarked lightly as a small smile played across her features. Padding over to an unoccupied area of the training room, the white haired young woman examined her weapon selection. Though she opted for the side sword due to the overall length of the blade, Eve found the shape (it was suitable for both thrusting and slashing attacks) and weight of the weapon agreeable.

The weapon itself didn't look like it could turn aside any of the larger blades, but the former gymnast always figured the best form of defense was getting out of the way; can't get hurt if the attack won't strike anywhere close to you, after all. Setting the blade aside, Eve took a moment to limber up with some rather general stretches.'

[Tiffany Korta]

Whilst everyone was carrying one Blodeuwedd was knelt centring herself before the lesson. But she was still paying attention to what was going on around her. Late in her training her Taid would occasionally attack her during this time, so to help her prepare for anything at any time. She didn’t expect Erik to do anything like that, he seemed to have an unorthodox training methodology but not to that extent, but old habits died hard.

“It’s not the weapon it’s the wielder. It’s possible to defend yourself with just about anything. But then again it never hurts improve your ability, that’s why we’re here after all.â€

[Gizmo]

Erik laughed easily at Eve's deadpanned quip, giving the impression that he was someone for whom a smile and chuckle came easily regardless of the situation. He tapped the side of his nose and pointed to Tarrant and Blodeuwedd in turn as they made their own observations, the former more lightly than the latter. "Sounds like we're on the same page, good."

As he spoke he was surreptitiously observing the warm-up routines of the quartet. The affable professor was the closest to what he'd been expecting from neophyte fighters, though the obvious care he took with where he was pointing the business end of the weapon recommended him to the instructor. He could practically hear the gears turning from John's analytical tact, while Blod took the flip-side of the same approach, mentally preparing herself from the core outward. He watched the petite Frenchwoman set her weapon aside to focus on her stretches with some consideration; obviously she was a gymnast first and a fighter second. He wondered what had prompted her to look into sword training in the first place.

"I'm a big believer in different people learning best in different ways," he continued, resting the blade of his practice rapier along his shoulder casually, "so I'll give you guys a choice. We can start off with some basic stances and footwork today or you can come at me, one at a time or altogether, and we'll see where that takes us." As far as any of them could tell, Erik was being completely serious about the options and seemed perfectly willing to go either way.

[Semi-Autogyro]

Eriks' suggestion caused John to pause midway through a swing with a small scowl, recalling vividly the hands-on live fire combat instruction that made up the basis of most all of his training. The teen glanced and his weapon and realized that unlike his former training these weapons were safetied. With that in mind, the answer to the question came easily to the blonde. John turned to face his newfound instructor.

"The latter would be my preference. It would help you to determine our baseline skill level, which would make further training regimens easy to tailor to our individual needs." Truth be told, John did think that four on one was a bit extreme especially since he was a firm believer in the adage 'experts are predicable, it is the amateurs that are dangerous.' Especially when it came to dealing with things that could cause bodily harm, safetied or not. Besides, he was not going to treat this like he treated actual combat by using any means to gain the upper hand. "However, I am fine with either choice."

[Fox]

"I think I'd go for one-at-a-time myself, yeah," Tarrant agreed, politely standing by with his sword now that he'd gotten a better feel for its weight and balance. Or as good a feel as he figured he was going to get as a relative non-expert. "I get the feeling you probably could take all of us, mind, but if we really wanted to we could always do it later. Besides, if we're all busy trying to attack you we can't watch what the others do - never hurts to get a little observing in."

He paused as something occurred to him, and chuckled, adding, "Well, except for the unlucky person who goes first. I guess they'll benefit a little less."

[April]

Eve cocked her head to the side and quietly considered the options their instructor suggested. She found herself agreeing, at least partially, with what Tarrant was saying. She indicated as much with a nod in his direction. "Besides," she added, "you will all get in the way of each other; the weapons you have and the room we're in favor our instructor."

She rolled a shoulder in a casual shrug. "I do not think I would be quite as hindered, but an all out attack in these conditions would still be less than ideal." Granted if I telekinetically anchored myself to the ceiling, loack of ground mobility wouldn't be an issue, she thought.

"So I favor a one on one engagement, if you all do not mind."

[Tiffany Korta]

Blodeuwedd couldn’t help but give a little smile; she’d seen beginners, who thought they knew better, be humiliated by master beating all at the same time. She suspected that Erik would be capable of beating them all at the same time. It would have been interesting to watch, but now was not the time she was here to improve her technique.

“I agree with the others that I prefer the one at a time method. May I suggest that you start with the few of us that have some sword wielding experience? It would probably be of more use to see others fighting before trying it themselves."

She had a sneaking suspicion that she had just volunteered herself to go first. Still this should be interesting.

[Gizmo]

Erik nodded agreeably at the collective decision even if he looked a little disappointed that they wouldn't be immediately descending into a wild melee of steel. Caution and moderation had never served him particularly well but he supposed they were probably the sort of thing he should be trying to impart upon his students. "Makes sense to me." Tarrant's prediction suggested he wasn't quite pulling off the overconfident fop act these days, while Eve saw through the deceiving implication of strength in numbers easily enough. "Alright, Blod, you're up first. When you're ready."

[Tiffany Korta]

Without a word Blodeuwedd got up from her kneeling position, picking up the sword as she did, and padded her way over to where Erik was stood. Her face displayed little emotions as she stood opposite him and gave a little bow.

As she did all this she considered her options. Normally when facing an unknown, and superior, opponent she would have adopted a defensive posture. The circumstances wouldn't allow that however so her second option would be a series of feints to distract from her actual attack.

Her only advantage was that she had been trained with a mix of fighting styles, something she now used to her advantage. She adopted a stance that suggested one type of attack, a quick feint that suggest a second whilst her actual attack was from a third unrelated form.

She didn't expect it to work, but it wouldn't hut to try.

[Gizmo]

Erik responded to Blodeuwedd's slight ceremonial bow with a inclination of his head and a somewhat less serious flourish of one arm, flicking the wrist of his empty hand while his rapier remained pointed downward, hanging loosely at his side. His expression remained calmly impassive, observing the young woman observing him as she advanced. He still hadn't reacted by the time she dropped into a ready stance and only moved to turn out of the way of the feinting swipe to better ready for the inevitable true attack. The Welsh teen's sword struck unerringly and only an interception a fencing blade raised with almost preternatural speed kept it from its mark.

The sudden riposte was yes significant than the palpably surprised look in the instructor's eyes. He hadn't honestly been expecting to even need to use his own weapon but Blodeuwedd's attack had been too close to simply sidestep out of the way even for the older acrobatic. Dabbling in multiple styles is one thing, he mused to himself as he withdrew his foil, metal scraping lightly on metal, but she's legitimately effective with at least three distinct forms. The nod he gave her had none of the light amusement of his earlier gesture. "I think I wouldn't mind meeting this Grandfather of yours some time."

[Tiffany Korta]

It was probably the best strike she had ever managed to do in all her years, and he had brushed it aside as if it was nothing. That was right up to the point until the point he paid his complement to her Taid. What did she expect he was a master swordsman.

Trying not to seem too buoyant she kept her face and tone neutral, instead lowering her sword and giving a little bow.

“I’ll be sure to past on the compliment, he doesn’t travel much but I’m sure he’d make an exception in this case.â€

She then stood there waiting for what he had planned next for the group.

[April]

A quiet murmur of appreciation escaped from Eve as she cast an appraising look at Blodeuwedd and Erik, and with it came the realization that without her powers she was sorely outclassed; and the question of whether she'd be effective with her powers was now in doubt considering how fast Erik had moved.

She frowned, glancing down at the side sword she held in her hand. She was quick, probably quicker on her feet than the others, but the enclosed area wouldn't allow her to make full use of that advantage. And it would be charitable to call her a gifted amateur with the sword, which left her with her agility and acrobatics training.

"Perhaps we can see if the saying is true," Eve began, stepping up to face Erik, saluting him with her weapon. "That it is better to be lucky than good."

[Gizmo]

"I usually prefer to be both. Also pretty," Erik quipped back, still a little distracted by the young woman's appearance. Beyond the hair colour, any resemblance to Willow was entirely superficial but he suspected he was still flush with some sort of new father brain chemistry, if that was a thing. His sister would have been able to tell him, but she also would have responded to any questions on the subject with some sort of sarcastic jibe so his continued ignorance seemed likely. That train of thought was starting to get away from him when Eve launched into astounding motion.

The instructor was unequivocally one of the premier swordsmen in the world - perhaps even of all time, in his comparatively less humble moods - and no slouch when it came to agility and acrobatics. The Martel heiress, on the other hand, had trained for years compete against another set of the world's greatest athletes and even after she was barred from those events had continued to hone them against much higher odds. For all his hair-trigger reflexes and conditioned muscles, then, Erik found himself well outmatched by the only hero to ever out manuever the deadly gaze of Omega himself.

It was a close thing, even so, as he pivoted just in time to take hit from her practice blade across the forearm of his off hand rather than squarely across the shoulders, but it still made solid and briefly stinging contact. Stepping back, he shook the arm and gave Eve a bemused look. "You 'do alright', huh? What are they feeding you girls these days?" His eyes narrowed for a moment as something clicked in the back of his mind and he blinked. "Wait, Martel? Were you at Claremont Academy a year or two back?"

[April]

Eve had a joke on the tip of her tongue but hesitated for a fraction of a second at Erik's last question. She was careful to not glance at the other two Claremont students (present or former), though a trained eye would note that deliberate action, when the pieces clicked into place. "Oh, that's why you look familiar," Eve said when she found her voice. "You're Ellie's brother."

Cheeks flushing an apricot hue, she rushed on to answer his question. "Yeah, I was there." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Still there, technically, though as a tutor and assistant coach for the gymnastics team when I can; pre-law at FCU has me busy." Eve shrubbed a hand through her short white hair, still embarrassed that she missed what was under her nose, and stifled some of the other questions and comments that arose. It wasn't the appropriate time or place.

[Gizmo]

Erik was tempted to sigh as his suspicions were confirmed; though it was no fault of Eve's, he'd been hoping to go a little longer than that before someone inadvertently made the connection between the self-defense instructor and Jack of all Blades. Nothing to be done about it now, he reflected. Besides, it cut both ways and he knew Claremont students were adept enough at keeping secrets. "That explain a couple things, anyway," he laughed ruefully, explaining to the rest of the group, "Private school, with some... exceptional teachers. If you're actually tutoring there now, I don't feel quite so bad about just now."

[Semi-Autogyro]

While watching both Cerys and Eve engage Erik, John realized that he was definitely outclassed when it came to bladed weaponry. His reaction speed was amazing; it was maybe even a shade faster than Etains' fey-like grace. But he could be hit. The revelation that came with the successful strike caused John to speak up. "Well now, that finally confirms some of the questions I possessed. Especially as to why Miss Teymourian recommended this facility to me." He made a mental note to thank her the next time he saw her. Lessons from a genuine master swordsman would certainly go a long way in improving his repertoire of skills. The clone also had decided to give Erik the letter from the Headmaster after this session, since the man had a right to know who exactly he was potentially training.

He waited until Erik was finished with Eve before stepping up to test his mettle. Focusing his attention solely on the blademaster, John stated the words driven into him from his former handlers by rote. "Prepare yourself."

[Gizmo]

Erik couldn't claim to always be the quickest on the uptake, but he did have to good sense to realize that the effortlessly-side-stepping routine wasn't getting much traction with this group. When John charged with single-minded purpose he made the youth work for the hit, but rather than putting all of his effort into avoiding the attack entirely, he moved with the precise strike, taking note of the cold, utilitarian directness of the taciturn teenager's movements. As the blunted practice blade made solid contact along his side, he ruefully wished that Mona had given him a bit more of a head's up before sending a batch of superheroes-in-training his way. Blodeuwedd as already a talented swordswoman in her own right, Eve's mobility would allow her to fight circles around anything short of super-human speed and he suspected very nearly anything became a potentially effective weapon in John's hands. That said, they were still in-training.

"Nicely done," Erik congratulated before abruptly bringing his own sword about in a tight arc once the blond fighter had closed the distance between them. In a flash, the younger man's blade had been wrenched from his hand and fallen to the mats a few paces out of reach. "You gave yourself an objective, committed your resources and succeeded. Also: ow," he continued, holding the point on impact with his free hand and giving John a wry grin. "But you're physically stronger than me, too; I could only do that because you were so focused on one thing. Balance, yeah?"

[Semi-Autogyro]

John shot a scowl at the displaced blade on the floor before nodding in understanding and appreciation at the swordsmasters' explanation. "I sacrificed my weapon for the sake of a strike, rendering myself weaponless and open to your full reprisal if you so chose."

He massaged both his wrists to alleviate the numbness the disarming had caused before picking up the weapon in question. Afterwards John quickly cleared off the mat, seeing as there was still one more student that had not yet gone. He was curious as to the older gentlemans' fighting style, especially as he was mostly self taught by his earlier confession.