(no subject)
Arya wasn't much of a reader. She could read just fine, she just didn't often do it, because there was always something more interesting to do.
But schoolwork demanded it. She supposed, squinting at Plato's Defence of Socrates, that not every class could be acrobatics, or martial arts. Maybe she should have picked up Weaponry, as well, just to have another class she could enjoy wholeheartedly. She'd skipped it every other semester because several of the teachers were her brothers, or teaching weapons she already felt she knew -- and, particularly, not teaching water dancing, because no one else knew it -- but on reflection those proportions kept going down, and maybe it would be worth it.
Probably Introduction to Politics was worth it, too -- she did accept this sort of thing was important -- it just meant sitting on the grass reading for an afternoon.
She looked around for a description, and as if summoned by the thought of martial arts, there he was. The man in the blue suit -- which was looking more threadbare every time she saw it -- ambling past, whistling. She watched him long enough to confirm it wasn't the pie maker, which took less than a second because of that ridiculous hair, and then leapt to her feet, book dropping to the grass completely forgotten.
The cute little dog that followed him around looked at her, and she pressed her finger to her lips before setting after him at a loping, silent run, barefoot in the grass.
This time. Quiet as a mouse, quick as a snake. This time, she had him. He hadn't seen her, she wasn't rushing headlong with no control over her momentum, she was stopping just behind him and kicking out sharply at the back of his leg-
And without turning around he pulled his leg out of the way, tucked it behind hers and yanked forward, sending her stumbling in front of him.
At least she hadn't fallen over this time, like all the others. Maybe that would convince him. Maybe he'd just been waiting for that.
"I said no, kid," Spike said, scowling at her.
Maybe not, then.
"C'mon!" she said, blocking his path. "I'll be the best student you ever had!"
"I told you, I don't," he said, putting his arm on her shoulder and making as if to push her aside, out of his way, "have students." She resisted, making him exert more pressure, put more of his weight into it.
And then she stopped resisting, grabbed his arm and twisted, leg snapping forward again, to use his momentum to make him topple over for once.
She wasn't quite sure how she ended up on the ground. By the time she'd realized he wasn't moving the way she'd intended, or that he was but he was doing something else, too, he'd overbalanced her and she'd been in the air.
She sat up. He hadn't walked away just yet, just scowled at her and then turned around to go, at which point he noticed his coat. The sleeve was hanging on by a thread. His eyes got very wide and Arya resisted the urge to scoot backwards. He looked livid. His mouth moved wordlessly and then he threw up his arms and made a wordless shout of anger.
When he lowered his arms, the sleeve fell off. He stopped, fists clenching. His head twitched to the side several times.
"It was a dumb suit, anyway!" Arya called after him.
[Tag whichever one you like, having seen however much of that you'd like.]
But schoolwork demanded it. She supposed, squinting at Plato's Defence of Socrates, that not every class could be acrobatics, or martial arts. Maybe she should have picked up Weaponry, as well, just to have another class she could enjoy wholeheartedly. She'd skipped it every other semester because several of the teachers were her brothers, or teaching weapons she already felt she knew -- and, particularly, not teaching water dancing, because no one else knew it -- but on reflection those proportions kept going down, and maybe it would be worth it.
Probably Introduction to Politics was worth it, too -- she did accept this sort of thing was important -- it just meant sitting on the grass reading for an afternoon.
She looked around for a description, and as if summoned by the thought of martial arts, there he was. The man in the blue suit -- which was looking more threadbare every time she saw it -- ambling past, whistling. She watched him long enough to confirm it wasn't the pie maker, which took less than a second because of that ridiculous hair, and then leapt to her feet, book dropping to the grass completely forgotten.
The cute little dog that followed him around looked at her, and she pressed her finger to her lips before setting after him at a loping, silent run, barefoot in the grass.
This time. Quiet as a mouse, quick as a snake. This time, she had him. He hadn't seen her, she wasn't rushing headlong with no control over her momentum, she was stopping just behind him and kicking out sharply at the back of his leg-
And without turning around he pulled his leg out of the way, tucked it behind hers and yanked forward, sending her stumbling in front of him.
At least she hadn't fallen over this time, like all the others. Maybe that would convince him. Maybe he'd just been waiting for that.
"I said no, kid," Spike said, scowling at her.
Maybe not, then.
"C'mon!" she said, blocking his path. "I'll be the best student you ever had!"
"I told you, I don't," he said, putting his arm on her shoulder and making as if to push her aside, out of his way, "have students." She resisted, making him exert more pressure, put more of his weight into it.
And then she stopped resisting, grabbed his arm and twisted, leg snapping forward again, to use his momentum to make him topple over for once.
She wasn't quite sure how she ended up on the ground. By the time she'd realized he wasn't moving the way she'd intended, or that he was but he was doing something else, too, he'd overbalanced her and she'd been in the air.
She sat up. He hadn't walked away just yet, just scowled at her and then turned around to go, at which point he noticed his coat. The sleeve was hanging on by a thread. His eyes got very wide and Arya resisted the urge to scoot backwards. He looked livid. His mouth moved wordlessly and then he threw up his arms and made a wordless shout of anger.
When he lowered his arms, the sleeve fell off. He stopped, fists clenching. His head twitched to the side several times.
"It was a dumb suit, anyway!" Arya called after him.
[Tag whichever one you like, having seen however much of that you'd like.]