(no subject)
Characters: floreatlibertas & beforetheship & OPEN.
Time: sometime during the Beach Trip. probably towards the end of it.
Location: CALIFOR-NI-A
Content: james & jolly decide to get a little outdoor fencing practice in while the weather is wonderful. if anyone so wishes, you can feel free to spot the little spar and take bets/sides/form a cheering squad/etc.
Format: we'll be doing prose, you guys can do whatev you want.
Warnings: swords and sweaty boys. and sand. fanservice.
The warmth was something James could easily get used to, and he paused where he stood, digging the toe of his converse into the golden sand. Not quite like his Neverland, that would have white beaches littered with the purest coral, but just the sight and feel of it beneath his feet was enough to stir his spirit. Their first day in California he had dragged Jolly out into the surf to feel the salt water splash against their legs, and no matter what they had been doing his gaze had always returned to the great
expanse of water so close by. Oh, how he longed for his ship.
But Jas had planned ahead for this very moment, and he gave one final stretch, fingers linking and pressing high over his head to elongate his spine, before sighing and kicking over the fabric that hid two wooden practice swords. Jolly, of course, hadn't thought of it- but Jas was always prepared. It had taken it's fair share of convincing to bring them, though as they were- to the commoner- nothing more than glorified sticks, it hadn't been so difficult as he expected. He stooped briefly, one bare knee touching the warm beach as he lifted one finely balanced blade into his hand.
Curls loose around his shoulders, James shifted his stance, left hand along his slide and right extended before him to brandish the faux sword expertly at an invisible foe. For a moment, intense focus sharpened the boy's already pointed features, wrist twitching as he executed a few calculated strikes to the air, before finally whirling. With a grin, his gaze landed on his nigh constant companion, one Jolly Roger, forget-me-nots bright with the promise of challenge.
"En garde, mon ami," He drawled, chest lifted, the blunt weapon angled precisely towards his friend's heart, left hand placed boisterously on his own hip. It was quite clear he wouldn't be taking no for an answer.
Time: sometime during the Beach Trip. probably towards the end of it.
Location: CALIFOR-NI-A
Content: james & jolly decide to get a little outdoor fencing practice in while the weather is wonderful. if anyone so wishes, you can feel free to spot the little spar and take bets/sides/form a cheering squad/etc.
Format: we'll be doing prose, you guys can do whatev you want.
Warnings: swords and sweaty boys. and sand. fanservice.
The warmth was something James could easily get used to, and he paused where he stood, digging the toe of his converse into the golden sand. Not quite like his Neverland, that would have white beaches littered with the purest coral, but just the sight and feel of it beneath his feet was enough to stir his spirit. Their first day in California he had dragged Jolly out into the surf to feel the salt water splash against their legs, and no matter what they had been doing his gaze had always returned to the great
expanse of water so close by. Oh, how he longed for his ship.
But Jas had planned ahead for this very moment, and he gave one final stretch, fingers linking and pressing high over his head to elongate his spine, before sighing and kicking over the fabric that hid two wooden practice swords. Jolly, of course, hadn't thought of it- but Jas was always prepared. It had taken it's fair share of convincing to bring them, though as they were- to the commoner- nothing more than glorified sticks, it hadn't been so difficult as he expected. He stooped briefly, one bare knee touching the warm beach as he lifted one finely balanced blade into his hand.
Curls loose around his shoulders, James shifted his stance, left hand along his slide and right extended before him to brandish the faux sword expertly at an invisible foe. For a moment, intense focus sharpened the boy's already pointed features, wrist twitching as he executed a few calculated strikes to the air, before finally whirling. With a grin, his gaze landed on his nigh constant companion, one Jolly Roger, forget-me-nots bright with the promise of challenge.
"En garde, mon ami," He drawled, chest lifted, the blunt weapon angled precisely towards his friend's heart, left hand placed boisterously on his own hip. It was quite clear he wouldn't be taking no for an answer.