Actions

2016-06-27 Fencing Lessons

From Transformers: Lost and Found

2016-06-27 Fencing Lessons
Date 2016/06/27
Location Lost Light: Recreation -- Practice Rooms
Participants Skydive, Blast Off
Summary Blast Off is cordially invited to take some fencing lessons from Skydive now that things are cleared up.

Blast Off has a date with Skydive. No, not THAT kind of date. He was supposed to get together with the Aerialbot for some fencing lessons and all would have gone well- except for his brother. Vortex put a turbofly in that ointment, winding up beating the Autobot in a fit of jealous rage. Blast Off still has no idea what Vortex's problem was, but he's determined to get his fencing lesson. He wants to be sophisticated, darn it, even if he has to shoot his brother to be so! The Combaticon shuttle stands in the practice room, one hand on a fencing sword and one hand at the ready should he need to bring his gun out to shoot Vortex again. So far, no sign of his teammate. Hopefully this time things will go smoothly. At least the extra time gave him extra days to continue reading up on the history of fencing, so he can hopefully at least LOOK like he knows what he's doing.

In truth Skydive felt somewhat guilty about how their last encounter here went. He would have let Vortex get away with that first punch, but something.. just made him feel so angry in that moment that he couldn't stop himself from retaliating. Was it because of his glasses? Or that his schedules session with Blast off was essentially ruined? He's unsure, but he knows he has to make up for it with the shuttle.

And it didn't help that the issue was escalated even further by the addition of the others jumping into the mess, but he's not going to think on that right now. Seeing the Combaticon already there with weapon in hand, he offers the mech a gentle smile when approaching. "It appears you've beaten me here." He muses and steps up, giving a momentary pause and glancing down before returning his gaze, smile dwindling a bit. "I.. apologize for our last session. I should not have engaged him and simply began our lesson."

Blast Off watches Skydive approach, violet optics and faceplate giving little away in regards to expression or mood. He does give the Autobot a slight nod of greeting. He then pauses to listen as the Autobot apologizes, an inscrutable look still upon his masked face. Finally, he responds. "No, you probably shouldn't have." Blast Off isn't always the most tactful individual. He rolls his shoulders once, stretching the arm holding his sword as he watches his arm gently swing it. "However, Vortex has a way of getting under people's skin. He's quite skilled at it, so I suppose it's not surprising." His optics then narrow just slightly as a thought occurs to him, and he turns to face Skydive. "...It appears you are... doing better."

He pauses then- these social niceties are not always his forte'. "I... brought you to medbay." Another pause as optics glance to the side, still thinking about this. "I... should probably apologize for my teammate, as well. He was out of line."

Skydive doesn't take much offense to Blast Off's flat reply, thankfully. He understands he shouldn't have, so he can't get upset. He does, however, give a soft noise of amusement. "That he does. I'll give him praise for being the first to rile me up so much in so long. I usually have better restraint of myself." Saying that, he removes his own rapier from his leg compartment, activating the energy blade and resting both hands on it.

The Combaticon's concern is.. refreshing. It draws a kind, if a little weary, smile to his still somewhat broken features. "The medics work wonders. ...And yes, they informed me. ..Thank you, Blast Off" The words are heartfelt and sincere, Skydive taking up his weapon and moving closer now so he stands a comfortable distance from him. Not close enough to invade his personal space, of course, but just hover at its edge. "No apologies necessary. We were both out of line in our own way. I'll speak to him about it eventually, I'm sure. But for now, I take it you're eager to learn." His expression smooths into a calmer look, Skydive's posture straightening and rapier giving a twirl. "I take it you've studied, so please, if you would show me the beginning stance then we may begin."

Again Blast Off answers with a nod and, though Skydive can't see it, the ghost of a smile plays upon his lips under the faceplate. "Vortex can be... vexing, I should know." There's what could almost be construed as warmth in his tone. Eying the Autobot as he brings his weapon forth, the Combaticon's first instinct is tension. It is fleeting, a remnant of war and former enemies, but once the reaction passes he is almost bemused by it. This should be interesting, if nothing else.

Yes, this is the part where he wants to look good. He adopts a stance, one foot in front of the other, in as close approximation as he could gather from those charts he was looking at earlier. "Yes, of course, what High Caste wouldn't have studied at least *some* fencing, after all?" Suddenly, he thinks to himself that his foot might be a little *too* far out in front and he scoots it back in, purple thruster scraping the floor abruptly, and he goes a little off balance before catching himself and trying again. "O-of course, it's... been awhile. I... might be a little rusty." His free hand sets at an angle behind his head. Hopefully this looks great. It looks great inside his head! He looks magnificent, he just knows it!

    <FS3> Blast_Off rolls Denial: Success. (5 7 6 2 1 6 3 2)

Skydive is actually quite impressed. Blast Off either remembers well or has been studying hard, because he'll admit his stance is good on the first go. But Skydive wouldn't be Skydive if he didn't offer tips. "Very good." He offers, voie full of praise. "But if I may.." Stepping up, his touch is delicate, yet sure, as it repositions a few things. First he tilts the shuttle's rapier to the sixte position before coming around to his back.

Skydive normally isn't fond of touching outside of those from his brothers, but since this is for teaching purposes he doesn't seem to register the contact like usual. "You're just a tad too low." Hands ghost at the Combaticon' waist, coaxing him to stand a bit. "And your back foot needs to be turned more." He plants his own foot to indicate.

Once Blast Off is properly in place, he smiles and returns to stand before him. "Now, back to your feet a moment for a proper salute." With a flick of his own blade, he brings it up before his face, hilt at chin level, before sinking into his own stance. He waits for Blast Off to return the gesture and set himself up before starting. "En garde. ..As you've said you're out of practice, we'll start slow. Keeping your blade positions in mind, prime through octave, I'd like you to practice some thrusts. And don't hesitate on my behalf, I'll be fine."

OH THANK PRIMUS. As soon as Blast off hears the praise, he has to force himself not the breathe a sigh of relief. HE DIDN'T TOTALLY EMBARRASS HIMSELF. Maybe he'll pull this off after all. Yes. Yes! He looked great. He looked sophisticated. He looked-- wait is Skydive touching him?!?

Blast Off freezes at the touch, optics widening and frame going stiff. He stares as the Aerialbot adjusts his wrist. The standoffish shuttleformer battles the urge to back away, to reclaim his (very wide radius of) personal space. Wait, no... don't react, this is just training. Everything's fine. Then Skydive moves to his back. A wing elevon twitches as he remains stock still, only his optics moving with the Aerialbot. Then Skydive touches his waist. The reaction is muted but immediate as his EMField flares up and he straightens in a rippled, frenzied wave. Fighting to maintain control and remain poised, he still doesn't move much beyond a few wing twitches, darting optics, and a suddenly very deliberate cycling of vents. That eases, finally, as Skydive steps away again and prepares for action.

Oh. Right. Yes, he's still supposed to look like he knows what he's doing. Octane? Is he here? Oh wait no, Octave. Right. The fencing move. Those violet optics dart about again as he tries to remember. Wait, no, he's thinking too hard about this. He needs to move now. Movement would be advised now. GO! The shuttle suddenly just thrusts his sword out in front of him, hoping it's going in the right direction. "En garde!" Wait, was he supposed to salute first? He was, wasn't he? Suddenly he jerks his arm back for an akward salute. "I mean... en garde!" Thrust again.

Skydive would be ignorant if he didn't take notice of the change in Blast Off's EM field and the subtle movements of his frame. He remained calm through the entire affair, however, his own field only giving a faint ripple in response. Back to his original position now and waiting, his movements are swift when Blast Off makes the first move, feet almost gliding as he skirts backwards a step and deflects with a single flick of the rapier. He would have remained serious during the lesson, but that flounder to quickly salute draws up a mirthful, breath chuckle from him as contoured lips quirk at the edges in an endearing smile.

Again the shuttle comes for him, though his thrust is more true this time and snatches victory in the form of the tip digging shallowly into his chest armor. Skydive gives a soft puff in response, and a slight narrow of his optics, but otherwise doesn't react aside from a note of praise. "Very good. Remember, the sword is an extension of yourself. Where your focus lies is where the tip should strike. Not as easy at first, but it will come in time."

He continues to allow Blast Off to practice his thrusts, either stepping out of range or swatting them aside. Only after a time is he satisfied enough to stop, nodding his way. "Now, keeping in mind my moves previously, we shall practice parrying. We will go over riposting in time, but I would like to just go through the basics first." Back to their set positions again, it's the Combaticon's turn to block as Skydive comes at him with simpler thrusts at first, giving him enough time to react before gradually upping his maneuvers.

Skydive *is* skilled, it seems, a fact which calms the shuttleformer to some degree. Everything is as it appeared, as he expected, and it allows him to more easily begin focusing on the fencing lessons at hand. The deft flick of Skydive's wrists, the curl of the smile upon his lip-Uuhhhh let's not focus on that. Blast Off directs his attention back to the Aerialbot's confident stance, noting his footwork, the way he angles his body and hold his sword. There's a lot to take in, and violet optics dart from one point to the next. His instructor seems to approve of his work so far, which boosts his confidence, and his thrusts become more sure, though perhaps not quite so skilled. Yet.

As Skydive comes to him, he is taken by surprise, the sword poking at the base of his neck. With a quick huff, he tries slicing his own sword up to parry the move and direct it away, leaning back as he does so. "I... see. Yes. I... well, this is quite different than a gun, of course, which is my usual weapon. I am quite skilled as hitting a target from afar, but..." He parries again, "But up close... more.. personal.... it's..." He dodges to the side and tries slicing the sword towards Skydive, "This is a different game. There's less... time, I suppose." Another attempt at blocking. "You... you do seem to have some skill at this, I will admit."

"Far less time." Skydive muses with a thoughtful hum as his blade is knocked aside, viewing Blast Off with a much more amicable expression than his usual lack thereof. That said, he makes a motion for the shuttle come at him, allowing them to blend lessons by giving and recieving blows and give him more practice in reaction time as they go back and forth with each other.

"It's good to keep some practice in at least both ranges. It allows you to be more versitile in a fight and able to adjust quickly, should the moment demand it." He vents as the tip of his opponent's blade grazes his upper arm, his systems beginning to run warmer with the workout they're getting. "Not to say you need to be an expert in either. Just enough to survive the encounter." That said, Skydive steps in and gives another flourishing flick of his wrist for Blast Off to parry.

    <FS3> Blast_Off rolls Aristocracy: Good Success. (5 2 2 3 7 8 4 8 3)

"Yes, true." Blast Off admits, "I certainly had to be versatile when working as a mercenary.... one never did quite know what one might encounter. Still..." He demeanor quiets a bit as he steps back, avoiding a blow with some panache, "That's what my team was for. Each of us bringing our set of skills to the table, watching each other's.. backs." His voice grows softer with each word until finally silence stretches between them momentarily, his optic ridges slightly furrowed.

The Combaticon thrusts forward suddenly, attempting to stab Skydive's shoulder. "I..." A few more parries as he tries to think how to say this, "I... It is complicated. This... after war life, I mean. Sticking up for your teammates was once a matter of life and death. Now it is more about... wounded pride, I suppose, but... the reaction is still there." He's trying to say something about the incident in the bar recently, but not quite sure how to approach it. "I... am pleased we can move forward, engage in... civil activities such as this." He's successful at parrying the blow, twisting his torso around to continue the motion to attempt to land another jab at Skydive's waist.

The jab doesn't get very far as Skydive skips backwards fluidly. He doesn't go in for another blow, however, deciding to hang back a moment to give them a brief respite. "I understand.." He offers quietly, resting the tip of his weapon against the floor. "I wasn't one for the war. I tried to see it as little as possible.. But I do understand. Even now I would still endanger my own life for the sake of one of my brothers. Even in a world of peace, that will never change."

He wants to agree with Blast Off about doing things together on better terms, and the words are there behind his lips, but he's left pausing for a good long moment. The Combaticon doesn't have to mention the incident, because that's just what Skydive says next, slowly and calmly. "..I spoke with Vortex recently." Half-mast optics meet the shuttle across the way, wings downshifting mildly to mirror his settling state. "And we've resolved the issue." Not that Vortex really had to resolve much since he brushed the fight off soon after it happened.

"Which brings me back to your mention of protecting your teammates." Brows furrow and lips skew slightly as blue optics drift sidelong, displaying an unsettled look. "That is something we will never stop doing, I know this, but.." He looks back to look directly in that violet stare. "On this ship, together, I view us all as our own team. Our own family. We have to stand united, not squabble and feud with each other." The lesson forgotten for now, Skydive steps up to Blast Off, hovering just at the edge of his personal space, and frowns weakly with optics unwavering from the other's. "We have our differences, yes, but... I would like to move forward, not go back to how we were." He hesitates, wings shifting unsurely, until he makes himself say the words on his mind. "..I would be despondent if I were made to fight you just as I'm getting to know you."

Blast Off misses and as soon as the Aerialbot suddenly steps back to give them a respite the Combaticon's instinct is to go for the kill. His sword thrusts forward- and then stops /just/ before touching the Aerialbot. Those violet optics widen slightly as he catches himself, catches the rising aggression, and hurredly pushes it back down and moves back. This is only a spar and he's trying to *impress* the other with his poise and class! Quickly, perhaps a bit awkwardly, he adopts the Autobot's stance. Uh.

Upon hearing that Skydive and Vortex have indeed spoken with one another, Blast Off finally relaxes a skosh. "Then I am.. pleased. It..." he glances away just a tad uncomfortably. "Vortex is trying." He looks down, not sure what else to say. It's not really his concern anyway, right? Just so long as his brother is alive at the end of the day. Alive and free. His gaze flits back up as the Autobot nears, body tensing almost imperceptibly. A steady gaze meets Skydive as he speaks, then is followed by a quiet hush. He fidgets with the tip of his sword. "....Yes. I... uh." His gaze breaks to look around before returning, "I do not meet that many other /cultured/ mechs. It is... a pleasant change of pace."

Skydive , surprisingly, isn't bothered by the rapier coming so close to his person before halting, remaining still and collected as Blast Off retracts and settles. If it had hit him then he would have simply dealt with it. If not? Well, that's what it does, so he does nothing.

"Vortex is Vortex." His visage wrinkles with a lighthearted smile, gentle, quiet laughter bubbling softly in his chest. "Just as Air Raid is Air Raid. We are all creatures of habit, so I don't fault them for their actions. All we can do is move past it."

Meeting Blast Off's wandering optics, Skydive's smile grows just so, a trace of fondness lingering on the edges and evident in his words when hushed voice speaks just loud enough to fill the space between them. "Agreed.. I very much enjoy your company, Blast Off." He lets the moment hang there before melting back to what they were doing, picking up his rapier more surely once more. "My apologies for steering so off topic. Would you like to continue the lesson or would you like to save it for another time? Either way, I have homework for you."

Blast Off listens to Skydive speak, hands grasping the sword hilt as he rests the tip on the ground. The gentle laughter is an unfamiliar sound, and it takes the Combaticon a moment to understand it and see it is not laughing AT him, but meant as a good-natured thing. ...He thinks. The odds are. The shuttleformer straightens and adopts his best aristocratic, poised demeanor. There is a trace of humor in his own voice as he speaks. "How... civilized of you."

No, he doesn't think Skydive is laughing at him. In fact, with the way Skydive is smiling at him, Blast Off suddenly feels oddly self-conscious once more. By the time the Aerialbot confesses to enjoying his company, the Combaticon blurts out, "Why?" before he can think otherwise. Oh wait, no, that was stupid. Blast Off coughs and mimics Skydive's moves, raising his sword once again. "I.. We... we can perhaps continue a short while longer, yes. What homework did you have in mind?" He tries a thrust, this time cutting down towards Skydive's hips.

"Why?" Skydive repeats, more in confusion than question. But before he can answer properly, Blast Off is on him again. The swipe knicks him, making him huff. "I wasn't aware I needed proper reason." He quips and smirks, some play to his tone. You won't get him to admit anything just yet, Blast Off.

"And it's nothing too difficult. Just some simple exercises I would like you to practice before our next lesson. Repetition outside of being taught will help you retain the muscle memory better." That said, Skydive dares a fancier flourish of his weapon at Blast Off, aiming for his neck and face. Nothing to hurt him, mind, simply aiming a little swipe if he doesn't use the acrued knowledge of the lesson to parry in time.

"Oh," Blast Off blinks, suddenly awkward again, "Yes. You.. you don't. I just..." He frowns under the faceplate, "You don't. Never mind." He moves in time with the Aerialbot, parrying and thrusting with some natural-born grace but not quite the skill that the Autobot possesses. "Very well, then, I will work on those. It sounds much like shooting. You have to simply get out there and *practice* it, keep your skills sharp, practice the motions so that when the hour strikes, you can concentrate on your aim for the rest is almost on automatic."

Concentrating on *concentrating*, he doesn't quite see and react in time as Skydive thrusts forward. The Combaticon snaps back, attempting to avoid the blow, but unfortunately for him it just puts the side of his face right into the sword tip's pathway in *just* the wrong spot. With a *clang* he's smacked backward and a piece of metal goes flying.

It's Blast Off's faceplate. The shuttleformer freezes, mouth agape as his hand whips up to confirm that yes- he glances to the plate- yes his face is exposed. It's a dark face- even a handsome one, though one corner of his mouth pulls back into a startled grimace. The hand with the sword holds it out stiffly as he glances from Skydive to the faceplate and back again, momentarily uncertain what to do.

Skydive was aiming for a light brush at the most, but Blast Off's awkward pivot throws his calculations out the window and earn the Combaticon an unfortunate strike to the face. Of course Skydive's wings ratchet upwards in alarm and his optics widen, his rapier dropping as he quickly moves up to the mech. "My apologies! Are you alright? That was ignorant of me to do and I--"

That.. that face. It's.. stunning. He's stunned. Frozen. Staring. Whatever words he had hoped to say die instantly when viewing what's been hiding under the shuttle's faceplate this entire time. "I.." It's rare for a mech with such eloquent speech to be left effectively slackjawed, but he is. And what makes it worse is he can already feel the tinge of pink start to light up his orange cheeks.

Skydive swallows thickly and forces himself to tear his gaze away, EM field wobbling oddly in contrast with its usual stillness. But he tries to regain some semblance of normalcy in his actions when slipping over to where the faceplate lay, gingerly taking it in hand like it will break, and returning. Try as he may, though, Skydive can't look Blast Off directly in the optic when offering it back, his wings betraying him with a nervous flutter of ailerons. "..I'm sorry."

Oh smelt. Skydive's STARING AT HIM. It also seems that Blast Off is not the only one starting to feel a warm blush of circuitry in his face. His faceplate is his security, his shield against the world, his protection from prying eyes, minds, intrusion and harm. A sensible precaution in battle and one he keeps on even outside of it. It fuels the distance he seeks from others- distance for his own protection, for others are confusing, and allowing oneself to be vulnerable is asking to be hurt. Blast Off has so many walls up the shield himself with he doesn't know how to tear half of them down, and the faceplate is perhaps the most physical manifestation of them.

Now it's stripped away and he feels naked. The shuttleformer just stares back as Skydive picks up the faceplate and hands it back to him. He doesn't even move for an awkward moment even as the thing is offered to him. Then, suddenly, he snaps away from being a turbodeer in the headlights and his hand jerks forward to grab the plate. "No. It's.. It's fine." His words are sharp, breathy, on the verge of panic but working hard to stay calm. "It's.." He hastily tries to fasten the faceplate back on, but the mechanism seems broken. It doesn't stop him from trying, though. Again and again.

"It happens. Things get snapped off when you're sparring, or fighting, or... things." The Combaticon's gaze darts about the room, hesitant to meet Skydive's gaze either. *click* *clunk* He is still trying to fasten the faceplate back on. It slips from rushed fingers and he manages to grab it before lifting it up and trying again. The fact that it doesn't work doesn't seem to register. "We lose.. things, break things... it's all part of... the fight. Or.. the not-fight." GAH. he sounds stupid now. Shaking his head, then trying to fasten the plate again, he adds, "It's nothing."

Skydive hears him, he does, but it's rather hard to actually look properly at the Combaticon right now. He understands the feeling of being naked, at least. Were he to have his glasses right now he might not be as affected, yet here he is without them and having nothing to use as a buffer against the world.

What pulls him from his internal panic of looking foolish is the sound of the shuttle fumbling with his faceplate. Oh no, he didn't break it, did he? Worried, he gathers up enough of his courage to look back to Blast Off, frowning softly as he reaches out to rest his hand upon the mask. "Ah.. Perhaps I can assist?" It's the least he can do right now.

Should Blast Off allow him, Skydive will reluctantly close what distance is between them. He does his best to hide the flustered look about him as he avoids the mech's optics and tries to focus on the mechanism on the sides of his helm, his touch flighty and unsure against the metal when attempting to fit the piece in place. Damnit, Skydive, you're supposed to be the level-headed one of the team.

Apparently Skydive did break it. There seems to be a lot of things breaking when Aerilabots meet Combaticons- even when they're actually tyring to get along! Blast Off freezes again as Skydive moves closer, most definitely breaching the shuttle's radius of personal space made even more raw with vulnerability. His ventilation becomes short and shallow and frame stiff, but he doesn't pull away. I mean- it would be silly to, right? He'd look silly. He'd look afraid. He's not afraid! So Blast Off stands his ground- yet somehow cannot look Skydive in the optics either. There is a distinct blush to the circuitry near his cheeks as violet optics shine pale and bright and stare anywhere BUT at the other mech touching his face now.

Finally, he thinks to actually try and DO something to help. This is all normal. Nothing to be flustered about, right? Even though he's practically naked to the world and here's this handsome, elegant mech so close to him right now. Ha ha ha of course not! He should speak and act like everything's fine. Because it IS! Yeah. One finger points hesitantly upwards. "See.. it's... well there's a hatch there, and it attaches and... if I can just hook it back in, it would... well it might work..." His voice trails off between nearly clenched teeth, followed by a nervous, unconscious biting of his lower lip.

Curses.. It isn't really going all that well for Skydive at the moment as he tries in vain to attach the faceplate. Between the inability to fix it along with his flustered appearance, he's starting to become a tad frazzled and he doesn't quite like that. And so, with a somewhat defeated sigh, he resigns from the attempt and hands it back. "I admit, I'm not the best when it comes to repairs and the like. Perhaps this would be a task better suited to the medics." He gives him a very apologetic look and hazards a glance to door. "I think that will conclude our lesson today. Would you.. like me to escort you somewhere to fix that?" So as not to leave Blast Off alone, hard as it is to be around him at the moment. But he must remain polite

Every circuit, every spring is screaming to Blast Off to flee, just FLEE. Get space. Maybe jump out the window and fly off INTO space. Yes, that's it. That's totally logical right? Get his space, his safety, his... wait. No. No it's not reasonable, and then he'd probably have rivet duty and cleanup in addition to looking a complete and utter fool. No, calm down. His heaves a long sigh through his vents, fingers twitching every so often, and holds still. No luck, though, and soon he lifts his hand to accept the faceplate again.

Looking down at it, he sighs softly. "It is... alright. I... I appreciate the effort." The corners of his mouth tense back, dentae releasing his lower lip only to expose a small fang peeking behind one curled lip. Seems Vortex is not the only Combaticon with sharp teeth, though his are nowhere as extreme. In fact it just seems to be the two 'fangs' for a subtle sort of sharpness... much like Blast Off himself. Keeping his head down, dark, handsome face still tinged with a rose blush of embarrassment, he glances up at Skydive, then raises a hand. "No. NO. Th-that's fine! I- I will go there myself." Yes, it was the polite thing to ask, but right now Blast Off very much wants prying eyes OFF him. For once he really does want to be alone. He whips the faceplate up to sort of obscure his face and begins hurrying towards the door. "Yes...uh... send the exercises you'd like me to practice to my mail, I-I'll check it later." He gives the Aerialbot a nod as he rushes away.

blog comments powered by Disqus