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Post by Cael Seran on May 19, 2012 17:09:03 GMT -6
Cael was all dressed today in his finest dueling garb. Primarily that leather jacket and some spandex pants, leather gloves as well. He didn't fit a mask on because masks limited his range of vision, instead he was set to move more aptly to counter Ira. Today they'd arranged for a little duel of sorts which was always exciting for Cael because it was one thing that he could never beat her at. Ira as it were, was the Seran's prodigy when it came to sword duels, skilled enough so that she even beat her father most of the time.
Regardless Cael stepped into the fray of their training room, the plain room decorated with four blank white walls, the nearest of which sported a large oak door. To the right of the entry would be a weapons rack, on such positioned two duelist rapiers. The young Serans, be them foolish or ruggedly tough, dealt in their saber fights without their tips covered. Shamefully so this was the result of all too many scars on Cael's behalf.
Casually strutting to the rack Cael would brandish his blade slashing it once through the air in a flurry of movement before drawing it back into it's sheath now tied around his belt. A cocky grin on his face pacing to the back of the room expecting his sister to be hear shortly.
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Post by Ira Seran on May 20, 2012 17:07:21 GMT -6
Ira yawned as she stood in the kitchen. She was dressed and ready to play, but first she was getting a cup of coffee. Cael challenged her to a duel and of course she would not turn down the offer. How else was she to maintain her skill? She would take her mug and walk over to the room. She entered just in time to see her brother swiping at the air with his weapon. He was without a mask as if it would benefit in beating her.
Rolling her eyes she would take a sip of her warm beverage.
<<Vous voulez prendre la chance de jouer sans un masque?>> [You want to take the chance playing without a mask?] she held the cup to her lips as she let out a small breath to try and cool it a bit as she walked over to the weapon rack to grab her own sabre.
Without further word she would take one last drink of her coffee before setting it down. She would take her place on the opposite side of the rectangular floor pad. She held out her sabre straight out with her wrist bent to test the weight and balance... She was used to the sabre and it's not like she used any other.... but she was also used to testing every epee she touched...lest she discover a flaw in the design when most vital.
"Ready?"
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Post by Cael Seran on May 23, 2012 22:07:55 GMT -6
les femmes apprécient les cicatrices [Chicks dig Scars]
A wide smirk before rolling up those sleaves a bit revealing one such scar on his wrist flipping the blade upwards to beil before his face directly upright as his torso leaned over further, his left hand taking to roll by his left hip. Feet would be positioned split, the right forward with his hand at the rapier, the left back and wide to support his balance making the otherwise tall Seran down to a lower level.
"Ready."
His feet would shuffle instantly forward basically keeping their position just proceeding an extra foot in her direction. In the same instance Cael's rapier would slash from top right across to lower left beforejutting back to the center of his attack stature and jabbing with the tip towards Ira's center of gravity. His attack style very aggressive.
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Post by Ira Seran on May 28, 2012 23:22:12 GMT -6
Rolling her eyes one last time before they began their match. He would lunge forward just as she... though she would lift her sabre up with the blade held horizontally so it would catch his first slash. If she did this she would then circle the blade forcing him to lose grip and creating a new direction in which his sword targeted.
As she did this she would step off to the side slightly and as she would turn so would her sabre...aiming to strike him on his back just above the hip.
If her blade struck true she would retract her arm and return to the edge of the mat to begin the next round.
"Cael; 0 : Ira; 1" she would taunt in a smug tone.
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Post by Cael Seran on May 30, 2012 1:20:14 GMT -6
Ira would tactfully retract his blow however being stong enough to shift his motion, Cael would take a step back moving far enough away to evade the blow and even moreso keep handle on his blade. Regardless he was in no better situation with the blade flitted off to the side.
"Quick hands,"
Cael would pivot backwards presenting his left hand to his hip while the tip of his rapier down towards the floor defensively this time poised to strike back.
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Post by Ira Seran on Jun 26, 2012 22:43:16 GMT -6
Ira would step back as he did so. Neither strikes had hit either of them. Cael was good after all they both had the same teachers.... But Ira knew she was better... Technically she believed she was better a lot of things when it came down to it.
"Quick hands."
Ira would let out a small laugh she she lunged forward. Her Sabre would come down atop his lowered blade though as it made contact she would slide the blade in a matter where it circled his own rapier. Once circled she would slash her sword quickly off to the side so as to get it clear out of her line of fire. If she managed this she would lunge once again and try for a jab to his chest...though making sure not to pierce due to being a rather dangerous location in which to stab.
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Post by Cael Seran on Jul 8, 2012 16:36:39 GMT -6
Cael would feel her strike hit suddenly and feel the recognition of the strike circle his wrist and knew what was just about to happen but couldn't stop it. Taking a step backwards he'd release the grip on his sabre feeling Ira toss it aside. Given the step backwards Cael would have another second to back further away from the jab and avoiding being stabbed in the chest, loose shirt however he'd have a new hole in the shirt.
Gripping backwards he'd find the wall before tucking his head in and rolling off to the side to go after his blade. Cael would stay low continuing to roll before grabbing the hilt once more and stepping forward into the blow lashing out a single right jab low to Ira's hip.
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