Miyo_icon.gif Garou_icon.gif

Scene Title Serve the Soup
Synopsis Miyo's trying to get some practice time in. Garou helps.
Location Templar Training Yard
Date Solace 19, 9:31 Dragon
Watch For No one let Rou ever be a real teacher, please.
Logger Garou

As a recruit, Miyo needs to practice and make sure that she is up to snuff when it comes time to be doing something of value, so she is out on the training ground…. "training". Her form is rather pathetic and its blatantly obvious that her stamina is not appropriate for how heavy her sword and shield are. She is panting and sweating, but still going at it with fierce determination!

It's awfully hot for such heavy work, the summer sun making the air in the training yard sticky and stale. Breezes off the sea would be a welcome change, but sadly Nature does not seem inclined to provide. It's the kind of weather people get sick in; it's the kind of weather Knight-Lieutenant Garou prefers to train in. It is also possible he's a masochist. Either way, he's already shedding layers walking into the yard, tossing his shirt over the railing and stretching arms and back before he commes far enough out of his own head to realize he's not alone. It brings him up short, hands settling on his hips as he watches the little spitfire go nuts. There is, perhaps, the hint of an upward curve to one side of his mouth, but it disappears quickly in favor of a single, dry comment. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep on that way." His voice is cultured, but rough - accent a softer form of Orlesian that those with enough experience would recognize comes from the northwest regions of the country where the cultural lines with the Anderfels begin to blur. "Who let you in here?"

When Garou starts talking to Miyo, she turns around to look at him, tears streaming from her eyes. "I-Its so hot…" She whines and drops her shield so she can wipe at her face with her sleeve, only to realize her bracer is in the way, so lifts her skirtthing and wipes with that instead. "I'm Miyo. I'm a new recruit."

"It's summer," is the dry summation of Garou's response to her initial whine. The dropped shield earns a clicking sound, a 'tsk' that manages to convey neither disappointment nor disapproval, but something in between the two. "Evident." To her being a new recruit, apparently. There's a moment more of silence where he looks her over and comes to some sort of decision, apparently. "Pick up the shield and put it away."

Miyo frowns at the statement about it being summer, then nods as if she understands. She picks up the shield with a little groan, hunkering down to lift with her legs instead of her back like some noob before scurrying off with it to return it to the rack she got it from. As soon as she was done with that task, she returns to Garou. "Why did I do that?"

"You do not crawl before you can roll." Helpful, Garou, very helpful. He's perusing the rack of weapons, finally selecting a shortsword that looks much more appropriate for her height and build. "Here." He extends both the new weapon and an empty hand to take up her incorrect one.

Miyo nods. That at least makes sense to her. That is, once she is handed a lighter sword and forced to give up the other one. "Ahh…" She gives it a little practice swing at a shadow target. "This feels better."

If the Lieutenant indulges in a roll of his eyes at that practice swing, it's while he's turning to put the other sword away and therefore far less likely to be called on it. Duty to the cleanliness of his space performed, he draws his own primary weapon from its sheath on his hip - a longsword of expert (and perhaps a little extravagant) make. "Which hand do you write with?"

Miyo holds up her left hand when questioned, which also holds her sword. "This one." She chirps proudly. "But I can kinda write with my other hand too. Just, not as pretty." She holds up her other hand and wiggles her fingers. "I broke my arm when I was younger so I had to do everything with my other hand. Got a lot of practice."

Garou nods, turning at an oblique angle away from Miyo and lunging through a maneuver that looks deceptively simple. "Good." He repeats the maneuver - done twice now with his left hand as well - and then sweeps the blade sharply to the side and turns back to face the recruit. "Make a fist with your empty hand."

Miyo watches, clearly enthralled by Garou's display of swordsmanship, and once he is done she claps. "That was really neat!" But, then she is instructed to make a fist, and does so. "Okay, now what?"

Instead of having her do anything with said fist - which would probably make sense if this were anyone but Garou - the Lieutenant takes a step closer to trace the outline of her knuckles in the air around her hand. "Your hand slopes when you do this. When I do the same - " he pulls back and demonstrates a fist with that same hand - knuckles flat in the grip " - my fingers are flat. You will get nowhere trying to hold your sword like you've seen the boys do."

Miyo watches, eyes narrowing as she clearly gets a little confused. She has no idea what he is talking about or why it is important, but after he explains, she looks up and cants her head to the side slightly. "Why? Because I am a girl? Do I fight differently?" She frowns a bit at that, but does her best to try and emulate what Garou does with his fist anyway.

"No, no. Stop." Garou sighs and tries again. "A female body is shaped differently than a male one. Your center of gravity will be different as you grow than the boys' will, for one." It's a lot of words at once for this particular Templar; he doesn't do well when he has to use so many and that stress shows in the fluttering of the vein in his temple. "This does not make you less than, simply different." He reaches out to gently correct her fist into its more natural shape, then pulls back to showcase his own flat one again. "But if you try to fight like a boy, your body will betray you." And this time there's no turn or movement to hide the quirk to one side of his mouth, though it is small and short-lived. "Fight like a girl and you will knock every last one of them on their rears."

Miyo gives Garou a suspicious look. "I… see…" It's clear she is a little confused on the subject. "How will I be different? And what is a center of gravity?" She smirks a bit, not the smirk of someone trying to cause trouble, but a bashful smirk, like she is embarrassed to be asking about such apparently simple things. "How can I beat them up? I don't want to be weak!"

"You've seen adults of both genders in your life. You tell me how they differ." Garou's tone is not cruel, but nor is it embarrassed. It is simply matter-of-fact and straightforward. If there is any inflection at all, it is one of an instructor leading his students toward an answer.

Miyo ponders for a moment, and then makes a gesture over her chest to indicate a sizable bosom and now her smirk is mischievous. "So, that makes a difference… I see." She then holds up her sword. "Okay, so how do I fight like a girl, then?"

There's that twitch again, the upward quirk of his mouth accompanied this time by a slow shake of his head. "You start by holding your sword correctly." He reaches out and corrects the grip of the small hand on the shortsword hilt. "That should feel more comfortable." The whole story is a bit more complicated - wider hips are going to have a greater impact on her stance and balance than all but the most obnoxious bosoms ever will. But all that can come later. For now, they start simple. "You will use this grip and perform simple drills. Repeatedly." Stepping away from Miyo, Garou turns his back to her so that she can see that angle first as he brings his sword into a resting position and then brings it up and around to lash out at the side of an invisible target in front of him with the sharp edge of the blade. "The one you will begin with is referred to as 'serving the soup'."

Miyo's tiny hand gets adjusted properly and she takes a moment to remember what it feels like so she can use it in the future - but will probably forget anyway. "Alright. It does." She agrees about the comfort of it. As Garou steps back to serve some soup, she watches, trying to focus on what he is doing, but she is dumb about such things and its pretty much hopeless for her to learn by observation at this point. "O-kay!" She then goes in and attempts to serve some soup but spills it all over herself. Its pretty bad.

Garou turns enough to watch this… disastrous attempt and shakes his head. "Like this." He repeats the maneuver while facing her this time - much, much slower and with an exaggerated motion to show the correct sequence of movement down to the rotation of the wrist. "Do not put too much into the wrist at the end, you have greater range there than you realize."

Miyo tries again, frustrated that her first attempts apparently went so poorly. However, its only marginally better, and things she did correctly the first time are probably not correct the second time around, but she doesn't put too much into the wrist, at least.

The sigh that escapes the Knight-Lieutenant is, perhaps, a bit excessive, but nobody's perfect. "Here." With a surprisingly elegant flick of his wrist, he sheathes his own weapon and moves to stand a respectful distance behind Miyo. His hand closes over hers, bringing the blade to the correct 'resting' stance and then guiding her arm through the correct motion - once slowly and once with something much closer to the correct speed.

Its moderately awkward when Garou directs her physically through the soup serving stuff, but Miyo toughs it out and doesn't complain. It does, however, seem to help her get the thing down a little better. At least enough to probably practice on her own. "Hmm… I think I have it."

Garou nods, walking around to stand in front of her about a pace back. "Try it." Nevermind that he's armorless, shieldless and well within her striking range. He… doesn't look like he's kidding either. "Just as before."

Miyo is a bit hesitant to try something so dangerous on another person, but Garou looks serious, so she tries it. Its clear she is holding back, but at least her form is… better than it was. "I don't want to hit you!" She protests.

Without a genuine effort, it is painfully easy for Garou to simply lean his body backward and avoid the blow altogether. Once that's done, he's stepping forward again, pushing into her personal space that much more. "Never swing your blade unless you mean it. Again."

Miyo frowns at that. "But… that's not easy!" She protests some more and tries again. There is a bit more effort in it, but she's definitely not striking to kill. But… her form is getting better, again!

Garou brings one hand up and swats the flat of the blade so that it knocks the entire swing off course. "Better." He steps again, finally in a space where she's either got to back away or start pushing back. "Nothing worth having is easy. Again."

There is a squeak of surprise as Garou swats her sword out of its path and she lets out a little huff as if se is gaining a bit of determination. "My dad says the same thing." She grumbles and resets, ready to go again. And once Garou gives her the signal, Miyo attempts to serve him some soup. Its a wobbly delivery, but she doesn't spill!

"So did mine." It's a sentence that comes out rougher than the rest, the skin around his eyes going tight and a little paler. It flows so effortlessly into the way he meets her next strike, gauging the speed and intent and lifting one hand so that the blade - dull from many beatings against the training dummies - cuts into the meat of his forearm. It's certainly painful and Maker only knows it bleeds rather profusely, but there's no real damage. Taking a long, deep breath, Garou flexes his fingers a few times to ride out the ache-sting-throb of the shallow injury and then lifts his odd-colored gaze to meet the recruit's. "There you are." Using the hand that isn't attached to the bleeding limb, he gestures at the dummies along the far. "Repeat it one hundred times each day after your other lessons. Find me in a fortnight and we shall see."

Miyo frowns with concern at his injury, but the instruction to work so hard gets her to groan in defeat. "That's so much! B-but… okay…" She grumbles a little bit. "Are you going to be okay? I didn't want to hurt you."

Garou huffs out a sharp breath that… might be a laugh? It's hard to tell with him. "This is hardly the worst injury of my life, pup. Go on, now." Because this Templar? He's going to rip the bottom off of his old linen shirt slung over the railing, tie it around the bleeding arm… and then go through his own repetitions of (much more complex, because it's him) drills and pattern dances. Then maybe he'll be able to sleep.

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