fandomhighdorms | The Salle, Monday Morning

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The Salle, Monday Morning

His bruises had faded to a point where he could train again, so Arthur was, as usual, back in the salle to go through his morning routine, and to deal with his regulars as they showed themselves.

He was choosing to ignore anything that may have gone on over the weekend (although he was messing about with his Blackberry in order to finally let Reno in on what had happened on Friday. It was a work in progress, but he'd managed to work it down to ensorclld alli and he had hope that with time, he could both finish the last word, and add the 'golden fish' part. It was possible it would be easier if he simply figured out how to leave a voice-mail-- he was quite an expert in the field if he wasn't, in fact, lucid and sober) and took a good training sword instead to give his aching muscles something to remember.

Just an ordinary Monday morning, all in all. He had a vague hope it might actually stay that way for once.

[[ open salle as per usual! ]]

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Dinah nodded to the guy she didn't know, smile bright, then settled back into her own drill.

After a while though, she had to take a break to watch. He was really, really good. She didn't want to distract him, but it didn't really look like much would.

It would take an actual, serious threat to break him from his concentration just then; something more substantial than someone just watching.

He kept to ground-based training for the time being, moving from one kata to the next, a seamless stream of violence designed to do nothing but kill.

Quickly.

He must've had ages and years of practice to be that fast, that graceful. Dinah gave up any pretense on not watching, even though the violence behind those moves was intimidating, and just tried to break it down with her eyes. Here and there she caught a move Arthur was making her learn, a stance she'd done before, but the whole of it was too perfect to do anything but admire.

She started to clap at the end, then looked embarrassed, and stuck her hands behind her back.

Years of training, natural talent, and then a year of actively using it to kill people. There was a different quality to his movements now, then there would have been, that year ago.

The clapping startles him a little, and he turns, faster than he had been moving before, bringing up his sword---

Only to stop, slightly embarrassed.

"Ah..."

"Eep!" Or something very similar. Dinah bit her lip, hands still behind her back, eyes huge. Then gulped and smiled. "Sorry. You were just doing that so well." Arthur was good, well, great, but he never made it look like so much of a dance.

He inclined his head sightly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Startled me, yeah. That's okay, I know better, I should've waited 'til you had it back in the sheath." Curiousity had Dinah past the fear already to step forward and eye the katana longingly. "That's a really great sword, too. How long have you been doing this?" Then, hello, manners, "Hi, I'm Dinah. Arthur's training me, but only for the past few months."

"Himura," he replied, bowing slightly. "I've been training for... less than ten years," he continued. "But it's been constant training."

He flicked his blade in a habitual gesture, before sliding it back into the saya.

If she got close enough, she might notice that he smelled like blood.

Given that he looked fifteen at oldest, and maybe a little younger, that 'less than ten years' still seemed pretty damn long. "Wow. It shows. I hope I get to be that good, someday." Although she had a lot of other things she had to train in too.

Dinah wrinkled her nose, thinking that maybe she smelled blood on him, or on the blade? But no one would ever put away a sword like that without cleaning it first, so maybe she imagined it. He didn't appear to be hurt. "It's nice to meet you. Are you from some version of Japan?" Given how Japanese he didn't look.

He nodded.

"I am. I'm from the past," he added. "Or that's what everyone's been telling me."

"How far into the past?" Dinah asked. "If you don't mind me asking. I know you guys have to get sick of the questions after a while. Are you liking it here so far, though?"

"More than a century," he replied. "I'm not sure, exactly. It's... not bad here," he allowed. "But I still wish I were home."

"Sorry," Dinah offered, tilting her head in commiseration. "Are you thinking of joining the Reserves? Or are groups not your thing?"

"You're the second person to mention the 'Reserves' to me, but I still don't know what they are."

"Oh! There've been posters up, and they got mentioned on the Radio. They're the volunteer defense force for the island, in case something like the alligators happens again. We're trying to learn how to fight as an organized group, not just all individually," Dinah explained. "Plus, that way we can learn the layout of the island better, and about other people's abilities, if we need back-up. Arthur and Leto are in charge of it right now, because they have the most experience."

"I can't read English." Yet. He and Fiona were working on that.

"But if the incident on Friday is normal, it sounds like a good idea."

"It really is," Dinah said earnestly. "And that wasn't really 'normal', but yeah. Harpies, zombies, aliens, alligators so far." She shrugged, looking resigned. "And I've heard about other things from students who've been here longer than five months. So. Yay! It meets tomorrow, after classes, behind the dorms."

He nodded.

"I'll come," he replied. "...Do I get to bring my sword?"

"I think so?" Dinah tilted her head. "You may not get to use it at practice, though, since not everyone will have them, and we're not fighting to wound each other."

"I don't train with others," he replied. "Will that be a problem?"

The last time he had, even a little, they had almost killed each other.

Accidentally.

"You mean like this?" Dinah asked, waving to the salle, then frowned, humming. "I don't think so. The reserves are more often about larger-scale tactics and all. But better check in with Arthur to see what he thinks."

"I'll ask him," he agreed with a nod.

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The Salle, Monday Morning

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