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[krem]

WHO: Krem and YOU
WHAT: Getting used to Kirkwall
WHEN: Present
WHERE: Dive bar, Gallows
NOTES: Other starters available on request, PM/PP (relatable)!

i. Some Tavern Somewhere

Krem didn't start the brawl, he swears—when a full mug of ale goes flying past his head, though, he joins in.

There isn't an overwhelming number of people keen on throwing hands with the guy in a full set of armor, but he still trades a few punches here and there. When he gets the attention of someone exactly drunk enough to lack the sense to lay down after getting hit more than once, he casts about and promptly zeroes in on one of the few barstools untouched by the chaos. He starts reaching for it even while asking whoever is standing closest: "Can I borrow this?"

Without waiting for an answer, he swings it like a bat right into the chest of the man charging towards them, sending him toppling over a table and into a messy pile of limbs on the floor. Krem has the gall to look surprised that the poor, innocent barstool survived its brief stint as a weapon, but he recovers enough to flash his most charming smile as he hands it back. "Thanks. Buy you a drink?"

ii. Indistinctly, the Gallows

On one of the rare occasions that Krem can be spotted outside of his armor, he is perched in one of the Gallows' common areas, stitching a patchwork of spare fabric pieces up into a stuffed nug. He's got on a pair of well worn trousers and a loose tunic with no sleeves on it so he can show off his guns for once. Look, he works hard, let him have this.

At anyone wandering close enough who doesn't look impossibly busy, he brandishes two scraps of cloth: one green, one brown. "This one or this one? For the wings."

Very important, please assist.

iii. On a Good Day for a Morning

Krem spends a considerable amount of time in the training yard, doing what looks like soldier's drills. He tends to be there right at the crack of dawn, because he is one of those crazy people who is actually productive in the morning, with a practice sword and shield and a slightly winded grin for anyone who looks ready to join.

Comments

[krem]

Krem laughs when she stops herself mid-sentence, appreciates the tactical sense in it, and obligingly steps a few feet away to wedge the tip of his practice sword a few inches deep into the dirt. Less likely to trip someone if it is standing upright.

"I can do that," he moves back towards her, hefting the shield up between them. "Got any rules in mind?"

Hard to get first blood if one of the weapons is a shield, and he's not interested in giving a new colleague the kind of blunt force trauma it would take to get there if it turns out she's incapable of getting around his guard with her sword. He doubts she'd be asking for this if she didn't already have some skill, of course, but he can't treat that assumption like a sure bet.

[amnotaweasel]

Rules? Misao blinks for a moment. She had never consciously considered rules when sparring, not really. Once, jokingly, she'd set a rule that she had to win, but otherwise, well.

"Don't... hit me in the face?" Facial bruising on a servant -- how Misao expects she'll spy -- is a good visual shortcut for either 'lazy worker' or 'woman with a bad husband.' Both of those are more memorable than she can afford to be.

She's probably making herself sound less experienced than she is. That might be an advantage.

"And go until yield." She won't be drawing first blood with a wooden practice sword. Not unless she goes for his head -- and that's a really bad idea.

Misao nods, to herself a little more than him, and steps into a ready position. She holds the sword ready at her side, rather than up en garde, but she curls her left hand into a fist and draws it near her face.

[krem]

Huh... Krem nods distractedly to signal agreement with her conditions, but busies himself eyeing the raised fist. He's never seen a stance like it before: having a hand free in a fight is usually accidental—the result of losing a weapon over the course of it—otherwise most people would at least fill it with a dagger.

With a shortened blade and an empty hand... she must have something crazy up her sleeve that he doesn't even see coming, he assumes.

But rather than waste time when it's a friendly spar and there is no serious repercussion to lacking caution (except wounded pride, of course, but Krem isn't that sort of asshole really), he drops his shoulder to put its weight behind his shield and he charges at Misao. The advantage to using the shield as a solo weapon is that you're inherently playing offense and defense at the same time, and forcing someone to try and block with a blade. There is, however, the danger of being outmaneuvered, and there's no doubt that with the weight of his armor it's going to happen sooner or later.