Jack Puts Me Through My Paces [open post]

[summerdude]

"Señor, you really should practice more," Jack says, as Magnus rearranges his mental notes and sighs.

(Anyone else might think Magnus is just lying back on a bench on the grounds, staring at the sky, lost in thought. And technically, he is. But he's working hard!!! He's trying to sort out everyone he's encountered so far!!!)

"You're right," Magnus groans. Being in a weird Mansion with no way out, no established Battle Practice, and no pressing quests to go on is not an excuse to let his limited fighting skills fall by the wayside. He hauls himself upright and shoves his (still largely blank) notebook into his backpack.

Twenty minutes later, he's secured a practice sword from some random closet or another in the Mansion. It's dull steel, not sentient, and heavy in his hands.

"Perfect," Jack decides, so Magnus tramps back out to the spacious lawn, one sword in each hand. Checking to make sure no one is directly in harm's way, he releases Jack and brings the dull training sword up, ready to parry whatever attack Jack decides to throw at him.

Comments

[sagramore]

"I don't know whether that answers your question, but I wouldn't measure my world by Sir Galahad. He leads a sad life."

[summerdude]

"Oh, sure," Magnus says. "I was more, like... trying to understand where he's coming from than anything, you know? So thank you."

[sagramore]

"Did I actually help with that at all? -- Don't tell me, it just comes as a shock." He stretches. "You should really talk to him, in any case. The two of us aren't friends, I hardly understand his mental state."

[summerdude]

"Yeah, but you're both from Camelot," Magnus says. Hearing what he's just said, he winces. "I do hear how that sounds. If someone was like, 'yo, Magnus, my dude, explain to me how all the other einherjar operate' I'd be like I don't freaking know, man, I guess we kill each other a bunch but that's literally it?" He shrugs a little, self-consciously. "In this metaphor, you both being from Camelot is like me and all the other einherjar killing each other a lot."

[sagramore]

Sagramore laughs; he can't help it. He likes the way Magnus talks, all references he can't possibly understand, and yet Sagramore can catch his meaning well enough.

"More or less."

[summerdude]

"Anyyyyyway," Magnus says. He still feels a little self-conscious about all of his assumptions, but he's grateful to Sagramore for the conversation. "What were we talking about? We both have excellent taste in partners whose intelligence puts us to shame?"

[sagramore]

"Yes! A very diverting topic of conversation, but if you'd like to spar again we can do that too."

[summerdude]

"Your call, dude," Magnus says. "I like talking and fighting." Well, mostly he likes running away from fights, but he's trying to get better about that.

[sagramore]

"Can you do both at once?"

[summerdude]

"I'm a great multitasker," Magnus says. "Uncovering plots while bowling. Arguing while running away from danger. Flyting gods while terrified. So I could probably chat and spar at the same time, too."

[sagramore]

"Good, you can explain flyting while we go another round." He pushes off the boulder and drops lightly to the ground before reaching up for his sword.

[summerdude]

Magnus follows, overshooting the jump a little bit so he ends up further away than he intended, and stumbles. He catches himself, though, and turns to face Sagramore. "I toootally meant to do that," he lies, and grins, lifting his blade. "Flyting is another kind of battle. You're trying to cut your opponents down with words."

[sagramore]

"Will the words truly cut?" He shifts into his own stance.

[summerdude]

"If they're effective, they make you literally shrink," Magnus says, taking a deep breath and sizing Sagramore up. Modestly, he adds, "We were able to trap Loki in a walnut shell after our flyting."

[sagramore]

"That's remarkable. But you are quite remarkable, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

[summerdude]

"My friends helped," Magnus says, flushing a little at the compliment.

[sagramore]

Sagramore laughs. "This place is replete with people who don't want to take credit for their own graces. Friends or no, you are remarkable. And so is your sword."

[summerdude]

"Well then," Magnus, the bravest boy in the world^*, says. "Thank you!"

*For taking a compliment. To be clear.

[sagramore]

"You're welcome. Have at you, then."