bitchprince (
bitchprince) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2009-03-16 03:40 pm
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The Salle, Monday Morning
On Friday, Arthur had reached a decision. After the weekend, he wasn't in the best mood to follow through on it, but there were few reasons to let his mood interfere with what was, essentially, a duty of some kind.
The duty of survival. As Crown Prince, it was a real one.
Still, he thought, as he arrived in the salle, Dinah had best be grateful. And it was all tactics. His gut still twinged with the sting of clear betrayal, but his sense of morality was as confused on this subject as anything else ever was, and so he ignored it.
[[ open! ]]
The duty of survival. As Crown Prince, it was a real one.
Still, he thought, as he arrived in the salle, Dinah had best be grateful. And it was all tactics. His gut still twinged with the sting of clear betrayal, but his sense of morality was as confused on this subject as anything else ever was, and so he ignored it.
[[ open! ]]
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He shot her a look. That was a distinct insult, completely going in against the unspoken terms of training. "Yes," he said, flatly, "I believe I am astonishing. Now. Strike to the left."
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"Am I aiming at anything in particular?" she asked.
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It was still quite hard for her, in some senses. Her vorpal blade was compact; no need to balance the length of it with each stroke.
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