None of those things? Really? Once again that pale brow rose, a polite indicator of his incredulity as well as an invitation for her to continue. And continue she did… with an answer that startled the bard out of his usual careful control. Shock showed plainly on his face, and then pain--
His chest constricted, heart skipping a beat as memories tried to flood his thoughts, but he couldn’t -- wouldn’t -- deal with them right now. Riz… His gasp for air was slight and, for a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, desperately seeking his center, his control, earned after years of searching.
Shut. It. Down. The words were stern, from a younger man, more innocent, less wounded – but still pragmatic. Drawing in a full breath, Jigano opened his eyes again, beautiful blue gone glacier-cold as he watched Ashetta with the same wariness mixed with something far more complex.
He didn’t ask for more – didn’t need more. He knew more about assassins than he’d ever wanted to, first-hand. The encounter had gone from startling to cautiously curious and now to grim tension on his part as he hefted his stick with a palm gone slick with emotions more complicated than simple fear.
”So numerous,” he corrected coldly.
He was watching her expectantly, waiting for the first move – and she didn’t disappoint. She came on the attack but he didn’t even try to meet the first swing. He hadn’t trusted the parry of his sword, and he was even less sure of his stick, so instead of a block he dodged, back and to the side on the diagonal, flicking his stick out not to attack but to touch her “blade” lightly – and maintain the contact, following her around and spinning dancer-graceful on the leaf-strewn grass. Of course an assassin would try to get behind him – that was Riz’s favorite place to be, even after he’d lost the element of surprise, and the woman did exactly as he’d expected.
Jigano’s jaw tightened and he twisted asAshetta struck for his leg, this time flicking his stick down into bastard gardent and guiding her own just barely outside his thigh. He tried to riposte back on her, following her weapon with a twist of his wrist, but she was too quick even for his lunge, fading back before he was even close to tagging her.
”Elsewhere,” he replied tightly, shifting to circle and watch her guard. ”And only as much as I needed to get by.” This time as he finished speaking he advanced, striking not immediately for her body but for the inside wrist of the hand holding the stick in a jab that followed through – whether it made contact or not – with a twist of his wrist to come at her shoulder from a slightly different inside angle – not killing blows, but disabling ones if it had been steel in his hand. Then, as she had done, he ghosted retreat, again at an angle designed to draw her after him.
His chest constricted, heart skipping a beat as memories tried to flood his thoughts, but he couldn’t -- wouldn’t -- deal with them right now. Riz… His gasp for air was slight and, for a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, desperately seeking his center, his control, earned after years of searching.
Shut. It. Down. The words were stern, from a younger man, more innocent, less wounded – but still pragmatic. Drawing in a full breath, Jigano opened his eyes again, beautiful blue gone glacier-cold as he watched Ashetta with the same wariness mixed with something far more complex.
He didn’t ask for more – didn’t need more. He knew more about assassins than he’d ever wanted to, first-hand. The encounter had gone from startling to cautiously curious and now to grim tension on his part as he hefted his stick with a palm gone slick with emotions more complicated than simple fear.
”So numerous,” he corrected coldly.
He was watching her expectantly, waiting for the first move – and she didn’t disappoint. She came on the attack but he didn’t even try to meet the first swing. He hadn’t trusted the parry of his sword, and he was even less sure of his stick, so instead of a block he dodged, back and to the side on the diagonal, flicking his stick out not to attack but to touch her “blade” lightly – and maintain the contact, following her around and spinning dancer-graceful on the leaf-strewn grass. Of course an assassin would try to get behind him – that was Riz’s favorite place to be, even after he’d lost the element of surprise, and the woman did exactly as he’d expected.
Jigano’s jaw tightened and he twisted as
”Elsewhere,” he replied tightly, shifting to circle and watch her guard. ”And only as much as I needed to get by.” This time as he finished speaking he advanced, striking not immediately for her body but for the inside wrist of the hand holding the stick in a jab that followed through – whether it made contact or not – with a twist of his wrist to come at her shoulder from a slightly different inside angle – not killing blows, but disabling ones if it had been steel in his hand. Then, as she had done, he ghosted retreat, again at an angle designed to draw her after him.
