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fandomhigh2009-10-22 08:11 am
mouthy-merc.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2009-10-22 08:11 am
Entry tags:
Swordplay - 3rd Period - 10/22
"Back again, back again. Isn't it fun, kids?"
Deadpool didn't wait for a response because this was his narrative and he'd do as he damn well pleased. See? Doing as he pleased. Might even start playing the kazoo for the hell of it now.
Just because.
"So. It's time for more sparring! Yaaaay!" A beat. "Or I could pit you in Thunderdome-ish battles to the death. Or severe wounding. Or maybe just until someone cries and runs. Ah, screw it. Minions! Fight for my amusement!" He said, waving vaguely at the TAs.
Arthur rolled his eyes. He was no man's minion. Well. Except his father's, but he wasn't here right now, so that was moot. "Zack," Arthur said, formally, sliding into a neat, precise stance. This was class. He was allowed to show off a bit.
"Arthur." Zack, meanwhile, was totally a minion. He was a minion's minion! He was kinda made for the minion life.
... He was drawing his sword, now. And then rushing at Arthur, as usual.
Of course he was. Arthur brought his sword up and ready for a good sideways parry if Zack was going to go with his usual strategy. Something which Arthur really didn't doubt in the slightest.
Zack's usual strategy, for those not in the know, essentially involved hacking downward on top of an opponent with above average strength and a ridiculously heavy sword. Today, it was more of a distracted, 'I am playing baseball with this sword' moment, which led to a spectacular clang as his blade collided with Arthur's.
Arthur took advantage of the moment to shift sides, shoving at Zack's blade once before delivering a smooth, quick blow at his opposing side. He could have kicked out, but it was probably best if he drove Zack to more distraction than he was already feeling. His feet shifted across the floor, steadying him.
Zack drew in a short breath as the blow made solid contact with his ribs, and he shifted his weight again, frowning as he stepped forward, slashing his sword sideways for Arthur's side. His head wasn't in the game today, and he wasn't about to step into Combat Mode for a friendly spar.
Arthur's head was hardly ever not in the game, and so his counter came swiftly and surely. For the love of God, Zack, at least have the common decency to pay attention while you were sparring. Arthur's face creased with an annoyed frown. "This is pointless," he muttered, stepping in suddenly as he forced Zack's sword to remain as steady as he could, slamming his foot around and his shoulder up in a clear attempt to slam him down to the ground.
Leave it to Zack to botch that up, too? His leg kicked up as Arthur's foot came around, and instead of carrying through with a kick, Zack found himself yanking his leg back, hooked around the back of Arthur's leg, as his balance was completely shot and he went toppling backward to the floor, pinwheeling the hand that wasn't hanging on to his sword for dear life.
"Get him, Zack! Get him! Show him who has the sassier pants in the class," Deadpool cheered, waving a flag with the name Zack on it. He might have just made it. Shut up.
Oh, for the love of--
That obviously meant Arthur wound up falling forwards, barely dropping his sword before he chopped anything off (or before Zack chopped off something of his), his hands shooting out to catch himself on either side of Zack before he knocked the wind out of the guy-- which he probably still did, as it didn't keep his chest from impacting. "--WHAT ARE YOU, BLIND?!"
"Oof." Zack was now on the flat of his back, staring up at Arthur, working on that breathing thing that he was so fond of, and smiling sheepishly. "You win?"
Arthur scrambled upright in an utterly dignified way. "Could you at the very least manage a scrap of attention for the fight you're in," he snapped, momentarily forgetting it was, technically, Deadpool's class.
And then he glared over at Deadpool. "And you!" Oh dear.
"Yes, Prince Sassy Pants? Is there a problem? Didja rip your sassy pants?" Deadpool asked, batting his eyes coyly behind the mask.
Arthur stomped over towards him, reaching over for the Zack flag. Yes, he was going to pull a diva move and yank it out of Deadpool's hands. "My pants," he informed Deadpool, formally, "Are sassier." ... He had no idea what that even meant, but they were.
Deadpool turned back to the class as a whole. "And that is when the fact that you're fighting with massive phallic symbols finally makes ya act like a drag queen at a Pride Parade."
If anyone happened to be looking at Zack as he pulled himself to his feet, they might notice that he was totally inspecting his pants, and then Arthur's, trying to figure out whose were truly more sassy.
"Now get to sparring kids," Deadpool called, already aware who had the sassier pants.
This had been a very educational spar, indeed.
Deadpool didn't wait for a response because this was his narrative and he'd do as he damn well pleased. See? Doing as he pleased. Might even start playing the kazoo for the hell of it now.
Just because.
"So. It's time for more sparring! Yaaaay!" A beat. "Or I could pit you in Thunderdome-ish battles to the death. Or severe wounding. Or maybe just until someone cries and runs. Ah, screw it. Minions! Fight for my amusement!" He said, waving vaguely at the TAs.
Arthur rolled his eyes. He was no man's minion. Well. Except his father's, but he wasn't here right now, so that was moot. "Zack," Arthur said, formally, sliding into a neat, precise stance. This was class. He was allowed to show off a bit.
"Arthur." Zack, meanwhile, was totally a minion. He was a minion's minion! He was kinda made for the minion life.
... He was drawing his sword, now. And then rushing at Arthur, as usual.
Of course he was. Arthur brought his sword up and ready for a good sideways parry if Zack was going to go with his usual strategy. Something which Arthur really didn't doubt in the slightest.
Zack's usual strategy, for those not in the know, essentially involved hacking downward on top of an opponent with above average strength and a ridiculously heavy sword. Today, it was more of a distracted, 'I am playing baseball with this sword' moment, which led to a spectacular clang as his blade collided with Arthur's.
Arthur took advantage of the moment to shift sides, shoving at Zack's blade once before delivering a smooth, quick blow at his opposing side. He could have kicked out, but it was probably best if he drove Zack to more distraction than he was already feeling. His feet shifted across the floor, steadying him.
Zack drew in a short breath as the blow made solid contact with his ribs, and he shifted his weight again, frowning as he stepped forward, slashing his sword sideways for Arthur's side. His head wasn't in the game today, and he wasn't about to step into Combat Mode for a friendly spar.
Arthur's head was hardly ever not in the game, and so his counter came swiftly and surely. For the love of God, Zack, at least have the common decency to pay attention while you were sparring. Arthur's face creased with an annoyed frown. "This is pointless," he muttered, stepping in suddenly as he forced Zack's sword to remain as steady as he could, slamming his foot around and his shoulder up in a clear attempt to slam him down to the ground.
Leave it to Zack to botch that up, too? His leg kicked up as Arthur's foot came around, and instead of carrying through with a kick, Zack found himself yanking his leg back, hooked around the back of Arthur's leg, as his balance was completely shot and he went toppling backward to the floor, pinwheeling the hand that wasn't hanging on to his sword for dear life.
"Get him, Zack! Get him! Show him who has the sassier pants in the class," Deadpool cheered, waving a flag with the name Zack on it. He might have just made it. Shut up.
Oh, for the love of--
That obviously meant Arthur wound up falling forwards, barely dropping his sword before he chopped anything off (or before Zack chopped off something of his), his hands shooting out to catch himself on either side of Zack before he knocked the wind out of the guy-- which he probably still did, as it didn't keep his chest from impacting. "--WHAT ARE YOU, BLIND?!"
"Oof." Zack was now on the flat of his back, staring up at Arthur, working on that breathing thing that he was so fond of, and smiling sheepishly. "You win?"
Arthur scrambled upright in an utterly dignified way. "Could you at the very least manage a scrap of attention for the fight you're in," he snapped, momentarily forgetting it was, technically, Deadpool's class.
And then he glared over at Deadpool. "And you!" Oh dear.
"Yes, Prince Sassy Pants? Is there a problem? Didja rip your sassy pants?" Deadpool asked, batting his eyes coyly behind the mask.
Arthur stomped over towards him, reaching over for the Zack flag. Yes, he was going to pull a diva move and yank it out of Deadpool's hands. "My pants," he informed Deadpool, formally, "Are sassier." ... He had no idea what that even meant, but they were.
Deadpool turned back to the class as a whole. "And that is when the fact that you're fighting with massive phallic symbols finally makes ya act like a drag queen at a Pride Parade."
If anyone happened to be looking at Zack as he pulled himself to his feet, they might notice that he was totally inspecting his pants, and then Arthur's, trying to figure out whose were truly more sassy.
"Now get to sparring kids," Deadpool called, already aware who had the sassier pants.
This had been a very educational spar, indeed.
Pair Off
Re: Pair Off
That was almost a smile of anticipation, there!