[Thread] Brits Battling Before Breakfast

[puritanjustice]

Characters: OU Alice Liddell, AU Solomon Kane
Where: The Park, by the pond
When: Daybreak of December 8
Summary: Alice's latest duelling partner is a vagrant swordsman from the Elizabethan era.
Warnings: Sparring-level violence

Comments

[darker_alice]

Alice, true to her word, was there in the morning. She had decided to dress down this time, wearing an outfit that befitted the times more. She wore a pair of simple khaki colored shorts that came to the knee and a sensible short sleeved shirt. Unlike most in Econtra, Alice did not get cold. She had, after all, braved far frigid temperatures, and there had been little prevention of drafts in the asylum

[puritanjustice]

Garb that granted her freedom of movement. Commendable. He expected her speed to make up for her strength, even if appearances in Econtra were often deceiving.

"The honor is mine, lass." Kane stepped away from the tree he'd been leaning against, sunlight illuminating the gloom beneath his hat. No other words were necessary; you could mope over a missing friend or pick yourself up and forge on. She'd chosen the latter.

He halted a few paces before her, eyes dropping to the wickedly sharp knife in her hands. "A fitting choice for one of thy build."

[darker_alice]

Alice nodded, and started to slowly rotate her limbs, stretching them out. She appreciated the politeness: she hadn't gotten to experience it all that much in Econtra, and it reminded her of home. She didn't intend this to be a small affair, and she DID intend that this duel should last them a good part of the morning. The one part of her outfit that DID stay, of course, were her knee high buckled boots, which were very good at treading over snow.

Alice smiled. "You work with what you're given, of course. It's my favourite. I figured the used of long ranged projectiles at this point would simply be unfair. Arm yourself."

Having said that, Alice got into offensive position, moving slinky toward her opponent, her knees apart and her position fixed as if she were grappling. Another stance taught to her by the Spartan, but she needed no instruction about how to hold a knife. That was something that came as naturally as breathing.

[puritanjustice]

The Puritan allowed the wind to part his cape, revealing a gloved hand resting on the pommel of a Spanish rapier. This he drew, the icy tune of steel sliding on steel a perfect prelude of a song for their snow-bound arena. He tapped the blade once on the ground before lifting it before him in a one-handed German stance.

"Have at thee." This was delivered not with aggression or provocation, but simple encouragement to give him the exercise they both needed.