(no subject)
They've been doing what they can to prepare. Sooraya had had years to learn both the use of her particular abilities, and more traditional weapons.
There were times when she could have strangled Frost, despite her respect for the woman. The Institute trainees were encouraged to focus on 'mutant gifts' as primary defense or weapon. That's all very well in some instances.
In Wither's case, it was nearly suicidal. If he were up against more than one opponent, or someone whose body wasn't organic, what then?
So, when she asked him to practice with her, she'd been relieved that Kevin didn't argue.
He'd told her that he'd used a knife in a couple of fights, when younger. She hadn't asked for details, taking the none too subtle hint instead.
They marked out a circle near the lakeside. The blades weren't wooden or plastic. No safety nets here; there wouldn't be any on the other side of the door, either.
Then, after a brief stop inside to leave a note, she joined him. They had an observer, partly for distraction's sake, partly because Dust--was not easy about doing this alone. She'd learned the blade to use it, not to explain it.
Kevin took his knife, a twin-edged blade of about seven inches, the double of hers. Hard steel, meant to be able to pierce some armor as well as skin.
She stepped away, raising her hand to chest height, as he moved toward her. Her fingers tightened on the hilt.
The first attempted strike he made was swift,he didn't telegraph the move, but clumsy. He'd tried for her face, as if meaning to blind or perhaps only frighten her. Sooraya darted aside, and took her own opening when his reach left his chest exposed.
The blade didn't cut through his shirt, but it left a mark-- If she'd thrust even a little harder, she'd have been hitting ribs or getting between them.
She circled, deadly graceful, focused. Kevin mirrored her moves, trying again to get past her guard.
There were times when she could have strangled Frost, despite her respect for the woman. The Institute trainees were encouraged to focus on 'mutant gifts' as primary defense or weapon. That's all very well in some instances.
In Wither's case, it was nearly suicidal. If he were up against more than one opponent, or someone whose body wasn't organic, what then?
So, when she asked him to practice with her, she'd been relieved that Kevin didn't argue.
He'd told her that he'd used a knife in a couple of fights, when younger. She hadn't asked for details, taking the none too subtle hint instead.
They marked out a circle near the lakeside. The blades weren't wooden or plastic. No safety nets here; there wouldn't be any on the other side of the door, either.
Then, after a brief stop inside to leave a note, she joined him. They had an observer, partly for distraction's sake, partly because Dust--was not easy about doing this alone. She'd learned the blade to use it, not to explain it.
Kevin took his knife, a twin-edged blade of about seven inches, the double of hers. Hard steel, meant to be able to pierce some armor as well as skin.
She stepped away, raising her hand to chest height, as he moved toward her. Her fingers tightened on the hilt.
The first attempted strike he made was swift,he didn't telegraph the move, but clumsy. He'd tried for her face, as if meaning to blind or perhaps only frighten her. Sooraya darted aside, and took her own opening when his reach left his chest exposed.
The blade didn't cut through his shirt, but it left a mark-- If she'd thrust even a little harder, she'd have been hitting ribs or getting between them.
She circled, deadly graceful, focused. Kevin mirrored her moves, trying again to get past her guard.