WHO: Two Geckos + an assortment of guest stars WHAT: Summary of content WHEN: Late Bloomingtide WHERE: The Gallows, misc. Kirkwall haunts. NOTES: Will update as needed.
"Fair." She drops it, leaning the handle up against one post of the fence that skirts the training yard. Sparring with somebody else (somebody new) will always be more useful to Abby than her usual routines; now she's warmed up, limber, and interested in him.
She adds as she approaches, "You can keep the sword. If you want."
A bit cheeky, but- well. Maybe it's in his best interest.
But maybe she's bigger than him, Seth still pegs her as younger. Not a kid, but close enough that even casual banter precludes the idea of bringing a sword into this.
"They really stuck in the dark ages around here? Not a single piece in that whole shack."
And his own is inoperable. Seth needs to submit a bill to someone for the inconvenience of it.
Dryly, "They just invented muskets," if you could call whatever Wysteria has been pouring over in her workshop when she isn't out losing arms a musket, "So don't hold your breath."
She cracks her knuckles. "S'that how you usually fight?" With a gun, instead of his hands? So she has an idea of how this is going to go, of course.
A pulled face in return, carrying the silent acknowledgement: Wow, muskets.
Richie would probably be interested, and it's not that Seth doesn't recognize at least the potential. It's just, what is he supposed to do with a fucking musket? Even if he can pry it away from it's mad scientist keeper.
But that's not the question.
"Hey, not a lot of people arguing with a shotgun in their face," is the first, aggrieved protest. "But for your information, I've done just fine with two fists and a ring."
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An unnecessary stipulation, probably. It can be assumed they are on the same team, after all. But still.
One last swing before Seth brings the sword around in a lazy arch to meet the training dummy's side with a loud thock. The blade sinks in, and sticks.
Hold that.
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She adds as she approaches, "You can keep the sword. If you want."
A bit cheeky, but- well. Maybe it's in his best interest.
no subject
If this wasn't a friendly fight, he might have.
But maybe she's bigger than him, Seth still pegs her as younger. Not a kid, but close enough that even casual banter precludes the idea of bringing a sword into this.
"They really stuck in the dark ages around here? Not a single piece in that whole shack."
And his own is inoperable. Seth needs to submit a bill to someone for the inconvenience of it.
no subject
She cracks her knuckles. "S'that how you usually fight?" With a gun, instead of his hands? So she has an idea of how this is going to go, of course.
no subject
Richie would probably be interested, and it's not that Seth doesn't recognize at least the potential. It's just, what is he supposed to do with a fucking musket? Even if he can pry it away from it's mad scientist keeper.
But that's not the question.
"Hey, not a lot of people arguing with a shotgun in their face," is the first, aggrieved protest. "But for your information, I've done just fine with two fists and a ring."
More or less.
"I'm not delicate, so don't worry about that."