fandomhighdorms | The Salle, Monday Morning

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The Salle, Monday Morning

Between the animal thing (or rather, Arthur was going to choose to blame the animal thing, because it made no sense at all) and modern medicine, Arthur's arm had progressed nicely to the point where it was a bit stiff, painful, but usable by the time he showed up in the salle that morning.

Not a broken arm, then. He might actually manage to function again in a short while (and nothing better conspire to ruin his arm again). He stretched a few times, rolled his shoulders, and waited.

He suspected he was going to have a busy morning.

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Dinah came in on-time, a little jittery for already having had two cups of coffee. Finals that morning, and the trip home to get ready for, had her bouncing.

"Morning, Arthur." She started stretching, then headed for the practice swords, trying to remember when they'd had a normal practice. Kids, zombie injuries... two weeks?

"Ah, Dinah."

...This wasn't to be awkward at all. Arthur turned and tracked her movements for a manly beat or two. "I needed to speak with you."

Dinah stopped, practice sword in hand, and warily asked, "You do?"

Okay, she couldn't think of anything new she'd done to piss him off... and Merlin coming out of the magic closet wouldn't have anything to do with her, would it? So this might be something totally unexpected. "What's up?"

"Your boots," he started, "How costly were they? I'll be reimbursing you for the entire sum, of course." Somehow, the words yes, I was a lion and savaged them utterly failed to come out of his mouth, on account of being completely fucking insane.

Dinah's jaw dropped, because whatever she'd expected, it wasn't this. "That was you? You scared the crap out of me!" And after a beat, "And you menaced my cat!"

She'd catch up with Arthur's point in a second, oh yes.

"I didn't menace your cat, it tried to threaten me," said Arthur, who was just going to ignore how stupid that sounded. "...Which sounds ludicrous." Or not. Back to his previous point. "I owe you for the boots. How much?"

"Two hundred dollars, (http://www2.victoriassecret.com/images/prodpri2/V277212.jpg)" Dinah said absently, still stuck on Camille for the moment, then focused and added, "Camille's a baby and they were a present! From my sister! And... what were you doing coming into my room and eating things anyway? Oh my god, Arthur. Did you have no impulse control?"

"I'll make sure to return your two hundred dollars as soon as possible," he said, nodding briefly.

It seemed he was trying to compensate for that lack of impulse control by having quite an insane amount of it right now, or he would've shown his offense at being yelled at like that instead of ignoring it.

Still spluttering, Dinah slashed the practice dummy a couple times out of sheer frustration, shooting him glares at odd intervals. "If I'm ever an animal around here... not gonna eat people's stuff...." Then, a little calmer, "I should have guessed it was you, after I met Leto. Nobody else would roar at me in my own room."

Whap whap whappity whap!

"I'm sure Leto offered you all the comfort you needed," Arthur said, barely managing to keep that from sounding as dryly sarcastic as it probably was in intent. "Er. Now, we'll be getting to the drills of the day..."

"Say what? Arthur, you are such a jerk!" Oh, that got another glare, and more spluttering. "You know what? You didn't actually apologize! Just offered to pay me back!" Which Dinah had just realized herself. "That's totally, totally unacceptable, Coach! Seriously!"

She gritted her teeth, and settled into the drill. Slash. Cut. Block. Slash. "Grrrrrr," under her breath, growling a lot more like a kitten than a lion.

He sighed. Frustration, mostly. "I should not have destroyed your things," Arthur provided, which, once again, wasn't actually an apology, but it was true enough. Did she have to be so difficult about this? "And I haven't offered to pay you back. I will be paying you back."

The growling was also ridiculous. "Your arm again," he pointed out, "Focus."

Edited 2009-04-20 13:57 (UTC)

Romeo got to the Salle on time, if not a bit early; not only was it only polite, but he still had a shop to open after their training session.

Which he still hoped would not end too badly for him.

"Good morrow," he said, doing his best to look like someone who was taking this seriously.

"Romeo," Arthur greeted. It was fairly less awkward than Dinah, yes. "Good morning." He rolled his right shoulder again. He'd have to favour the left, still, but he didn't think Romeo would put too much of a dent in him for starters. "I hope it sees you well."

"Well enough," Romeo said. "The weekend was quiet for me, and I'm to go home for a bit this week." Mixed feelings, on that last bit, but leaning to the positive, all things considered.

Then, noticing the the shoulder-roll: "Your arm healed?"

"It's gotten well enough to sit without any support," he said, which was a not really but it's getting there in any other tongue. Finished with the effort to loosen his muscles - and did it still hurt, or what - he approached. "Seems like quiet weekends are the best we can hope for. But enough chatter."

"Your head," cut, high, low, correct the arm, "would literally explode," downward slash, upward block, "if you had to apologize. Wouldn't it?" Thwack slam thud! "Ooey gooey gray brain matter everywhere." Dinah might have sounded unnaturally gleeful about this as she continued the drill. She even got the knee right. First, second, third, cut.

Really, she was lucky he was running on a great deal of good will towards her right now, or he may have gotten snarkier. As it was, it wasn't as if Arthur had to explain himself to her anyway. "Higher," he instructed, "You might leave your flank open."

Ignoring, ignoring, it was an art form.

Three sentences didn't count as chatter by Romeo's lights, but he got the point easily enough.

"Let's get down to it, then," he said, stretching on his way to a corner of the mats. He kept one eye on Arthur; Romeo wouldn't put it beyond him to strike out at any time, and he wanted to have a better response than complaining again.

He really didn't have to explain, Dinah got it just fine, thanks. He was going to eat her boots again, if he got the chance. Because he knew it was wrong and was willing to pay for it, but he wasn't actually sorry. "I'm hiding my boots from now on."

She corrected the cuts and drew the sword across in a neck-level slash.

"Also, as a lion? Your breath was horrible. Just so you know. Breath mints. King of the jungle's best friend."

Edited 2009-04-20 14:27 (UTC)

They were going to have a training session. Anything was chatter.

"All right," Arthur said, taking his own place on that very mat. "Hit me," he instructed~~, his phrasing thus avoiding any bad meta jokes by the unfunny mun.~~

"Yes, Dinah, because there is no desire greater in my heart than the one to eat your boots again," he said, momentarily unchaining the snark monster despite his best efforts. Arthur just had weird ideas about the usage of the word 'sorry'. "Repeat that last one."

Romeo raised one eyebrow -- what, just like that? -- then set his jaw, moved his left arm up to protect himself, and struck out, medium-hard and not excessively fast, crossing his right fist to Arthur's injured shoulder.

Never let it be said he was entirely averse to fighting a little dirty.

"You never know. It's Fandom. I didn't expect to have someone giving me Death Kitty Breath then playing with my boots yesterday." If the situation weren't totally hilarious and if Dinah weren't so glad she wasn't a prince, she would've been able to stay more mad. Not forgiving him. But not mad. So she repeated the last one, eyes narrowing, carefully watching the angle.

Arthur had walked into this fight knowing his weaknesses, and the punch wasn't anything he hadn't anticipated. Perhaps he should've waited a bit longer for it to heal properly, but there was no space for second thoughts right now.

Instead, he ducked, and his left arm shot up in time with Romeo's movement to block the blow before it got anywhere near his shoulder. If he'd been anywhere more healed, he would have shot out to jab at Romeo's stomach by now - but that would both harm his arm and potentially ruin one advantage, had this been a proper fight.

He chose to move and try to shove Romeo bodily instead. Still straining on his right side, but not as directly.

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The Salle, Monday Morning

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