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25th Teddy Bear [Voice/Action][TWO DAYS]
[[Nighttime; June 23rd]]
[Elicia had had a tough week.
Shuffle, shuffle—the sound of turning blankets and small feet moving back and forth through them. She's been rolling in her sleep for a few minutes now, flipping her hidden journal into a little book tepee, while it records the buzzing air and soft incoherent murmurings of a child dreaming. They're not happy dreams, after a while, and it takes but a moment before she's wide awake and horrified and crawling under her blankets with her mouth in a shaky near-crying line. The journal. That's right.
She reaches over and opens it up all the way, unable to see anything in the dark. Her voice is watery and lined with a sort of innocent, hurt desperation when she speaks.]
[Voice]
Please tell me a story. I wanna hear stories, if anyone... wants to talk... I like them a lot. I—I promise I'll go back to sleep, but I just wanna hear one...
[Pretty, pretty please...
But despite stories, sometime in the night, she rises up from her bed and patter-pitters quickly into her parents' room. Scary, they're too scary—and they could be real. Because she's seen scary real things like it before. And the last thing she wanted was a blue-eyed woman slowly creaking out of her closet, like she kept imagining, over and over and over again...]
[[Daytime; June 24th]]
[It was a cold snap, today. Elicia wore her poofy pink jacket for the occasion. Truth be told, she's had a very tiring night of trying to sleep, and she'd failed at it fairly well. There were a mesh-up of things. Scary things. She didn't want to draw any of them, so she decided on focusing her attention to playing. By the end of her short-lived playtime outside, she's laying on her arm on the front steps of her house, the fake pink sword Law gave her still clamped in her hand.
A good nap. There was nothing scary... Just good. That was important. It's a good thing children bounce back well enough, even if only for a while, because she's got a content air about her later on in the day. Anyone who wants to visit, now's a great time to; she'll be drawing funny circles all over the ground outside with a stick. Clapping her hands and smacking them. And nothing happens. :|
But she sure as hell is pretending something's happening.]
Bam!! Now you can't stand against my dirt alchemy!! [throws dirt up with her hands at her big teddy bear >:^(
HA, screw you, teddy, you've got dirt on your head!]
You'd better give up soon, or else I'll have to use my water attack next!!
[AND THEN YOU'LL BE MUDDY!!!]
((ooc: Just make it clear which day you're replying to and all that. I have faith in you. |Db))
[Elicia had had a tough week.
Shuffle, shuffle—the sound of turning blankets and small feet moving back and forth through them. She's been rolling in her sleep for a few minutes now, flipping her hidden journal into a little book tepee, while it records the buzzing air and soft incoherent murmurings of a child dreaming. They're not happy dreams, after a while, and it takes but a moment before she's wide awake and horrified and crawling under her blankets with her mouth in a shaky near-crying line. The journal. That's right.
She reaches over and opens it up all the way, unable to see anything in the dark. Her voice is watery and lined with a sort of innocent, hurt desperation when she speaks.]
[Voice]
Please tell me a story. I wanna hear stories, if anyone... wants to talk... I like them a lot. I—I promise I'll go back to sleep, but I just wanna hear one...
[Pretty, pretty please...
But despite stories, sometime in the night, she rises up from her bed and patter-pitters quickly into her parents' room. Scary, they're too scary—and they could be real. Because she's seen scary real things like it before. And the last thing she wanted was a blue-eyed woman slowly creaking out of her closet, like she kept imagining, over and over and over again...]
[[Daytime; June 24th]]
[It was a cold snap, today. Elicia wore her poofy pink jacket for the occasion. Truth be told, she's had a very tiring night of trying to sleep, and she'd failed at it fairly well. There were a mesh-up of things. Scary things. She didn't want to draw any of them, so she decided on focusing her attention to playing. By the end of her short-lived playtime outside, she's laying on her arm on the front steps of her house, the fake pink sword Law gave her still clamped in her hand.
A good nap. There was nothing scary... Just good. That was important. It's a good thing children bounce back well enough, even if only for a while, because she's got a content air about her later on in the day. Anyone who wants to visit, now's a great time to; she'll be drawing funny circles all over the ground outside with a stick. Clapping her hands and smacking them. And nothing happens. :|
But she sure as hell is pretending something's happening.]
Bam!! Now you can't stand against my dirt alchemy!! [throws dirt up with her hands at her big teddy bear >:^(
HA, screw you, teddy, you've got dirt on your head!]
You'd better give up soon, or else I'll have to use my water attack next!!
[AND THEN YOU'LL BE MUDDY!!!]
((ooc: Just make it clear which day you're replying to and all that. I have faith in you. |Db))
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[She quickly follows suit as she speaks, tongue out the corner of her mouth in focus.]
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We call that a feint.
1/2
[...]
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That's a faint, then. [Grin.] Faint and feint are two different words. They just sound very much alike.
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I didn't know words could be the same, but mean different stuff!
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[And we parry an invisible opponent with the sword again.]
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That's good! I like learning new stuff, and school always teaches me new stuff!
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Pretty good for a first time, you know, little shaky or not, especially since you're five. Some of these moves most kids have more trouble with - not developed enough muscle co-ordination or movement range.]
Oh? What's your favorite subject?
[Bringing back that sword to his right side, hilt just above waist height, sheathed blade straight out like the muzzle of a rifle, and drawing it back in preparation for a thrusting strike. The double handed grip only increased the power.
He could punch through steel in this pose if he was serious. But since he's not and he's just demonstating for teaching purposes...
Thrust.
It's not going to be punching through anything but air. But even slowed down, done by a five year old, and maybe a little off, there's still power to be felt in it.]
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[Forget that art was her favorite before, she tends to have mixed feelings. Give it a week and it'll be learning about animals, or something.
She mimics, and though the thrust isn't a straight line per say—left and right it tends to wander—it's still a strike through air nonetheless.]
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Really? I loved those subjects too when I was younger. [Some of his teachers... not so much at all, however.] And it's very important for a swordsman to be good in those things. Your skill with a pen or brush reflects your skill with a blade.
In the old days, a well accomplished swordsmaster wasn't only a fighter. He or she was an artist and a scholar as well.
[Those days are almost gone, though. He finds it sad.]
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Well I'm a doctor, a swordsman, a Captain of a submarine and crew, a strategist, a shogi player...
What things do you want to be, Miss Elicia?
[And he'll start to lead you through the rest of the cuts you can do with a sword.]
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[SWING!]
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Then you will. Especially a really good artist.
[They are going to have more sword lessons when he moves in next door, aren't they?]
Though why piracy?
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Going to be their Captain, huh? Then you'll gather a great crew. Have you any thought of who you want your nakama to be?
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[Yeah, Sanji explained nakama.]
I thiiiink...! I'd want papa to be one of them! And maybe Captain Uncle Jack, or Mr. Archie, or my big brothers or sisters!