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SPOTLIGHT WRITER: ALIA

Characters: Jenny Thomas, Anna Wallace, Gina Lutz, Kaida Takadai, Jackson Street, Melody Guthrie and Kitty Pryde

Thread that best shows off your writing: Training? and Jinxed.

Writing strengths? Quick responses with meat (so not just a few words). Digging into characters motivations a bit.

What are you working on as a writer? Making my posts longer, using different words and really trying to find ways of digging in further to the characters psyche.

What were the biggest influences to your writing? Heinlein, Lucas, Herbert, JMS, Whedon.

Favorite X-men storyline/comic/artist/series? Storyline: Reaching way way back is probably the inital Brood one or the original Dark Phoenix. Single issue comic: Uncanny X-Men 303; it was the first one that I ever picked up. Artists: Oh god, The Kurbert brothers (Andy and Adam); Silvestri; Madureira; Cockrim; Byrne; Lee (I keep telling you all I have problems choosing!). Series: Original New Mutants and Generation X. Uncanny comes in third just because it's the original.

What drew you to BMF? KEL! We had a game together that died and I told her I missed gaming with her so she sent me this site.

What is your favorite aspect of BMF? The community. The fact that people work together to create plots and interconnected characters. That ideas aren't just 'no' but willing to be worked with. And the unique application.

Where would you like to see BMF go in the future? Anywhere it can. More plots. More posts. To grow and get bigger and take over the world...



In Character Posting Dates: March 1, 2015 - May 15, 2015


 
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 Water Dancing, March 10 | Remy Lebeau
Sofia Mantega
 Posted: Oct 8 2016, 07:56 PM
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"This is the Bravo's Dance, the Water Dance. It is swift...and it is sudden!"


She had come early to the class, so very early. It often happened when she was nervous that she tended to move quicker, talk quicker and altogether just be quicker including her sense of time. So when Sofia entered the large expanse that was to be where her first lesson in fencing would be, the place was empty; so very quiet and empty. In fact Sofia had to actually turn on the lights.

It wasn't that her instructor was late, but that Sofia was ridiculously early, so much that the place was still in the dark and still had that crisp cool feel of an unused area. There wasn't that smell of bodies or stagnate humidity that often befell places of physical exertion. She was probably and literally the first person in the room this morning so after turning on the lights and awaiting for the fluorescence to flicker and light the room you young aerokinetic stepped over to one of the far walls. The large mirrors and bar railing along the wall seemed almost like the place doubled as a dance room as well or well it could have. She wasn't certain that's what this place was but the large training area looked like it was used not just for fencing but for other types of training.

Naturally by default Sofia started stretching, using the bar as a means to limber up and stretch the muscles she was sure would get a good work out for the hour. Placing the earbuds into her ears and then playing some music, she put on her 'warm up trax' as she went through her standard stretches. When she finished her stretching routine the place was still empty and devoid of people so the young aerokinetic started to explore the large room while music in her ears still continued to play. Mats were placed where they no doubt would be working out in the middle of the room, while mirrors coated the walls of one side (most likely to gauge form or maybe the mirrors were used for other classes like dance). On the opposite wall were racks of various different types of swords.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Sofia picked up one of the lighter more flexible looking swords and gave it a bit of a 'wiggle' (literally) and she could not help but giggle at the floppiness of the thing long piece. How was someone actually supposed to kill someone with this? she mused, not that her intention for joining this fencing class was to kill people because it wasn't. After all, who fought with swords these days when there were guns and people with powers? Oh wait...there was that red and black guy in a onsie that used swords. Meh, who was she to judge. But yeah, she didn't sign up for this to learn to hurt people, she did it for the romance of a sword fight, remembering Catherine Zeta Jones in The Mask of Zorro movie and as a child Sofia really wanted to be Eléna. Then as she got older she started reading stories like the Mortal Instruments series and Game of Thrones and suddenly sword fighting was intriguing to her. It looked like a well choreographed dance in a way and well Sofia loved to dance.

So naturally what happened when the bored Venezuelan was left alone; she danced, this time to the beat of Ciara's ONE TWO STEP. The sword was then used as nothing but a prop as she danced with it in hand, a lyrical bit of mimicked dance video moves and some of her own thrown in as she used the sword as an extension of her dance.

"I shake it like jello..." she sang as she danced and shook the thin sword in a way that made the blade wobble to her movements. " And make the boys say hello..." Sofia's body and extension of it, made it look like the wave of the thing foil blade flowed through the rest of her body and leave the other side of her opposite hand "...Cause they know I'm rockin' the beat..."

Her sword clattered then at the site of someone in the room that she didn't notice in all her movement and dancing and just general obliviousness of Sofia being, well Sofia. Clamoring to catch the fallen sword that was now rolling away from her. The young girl was forced to crawl after it and then stand up in as 'natural' and nonchalant way as anyone could chasing after a rolling sword thing...yeah someone needed to kill her now or make these blades actually sharp so she could do it herself.

"Heh, don't you just love Ciara? ..." she said making light of the situation. "...yeah..." why did she always have to look like a spaz in front of cool looking people? And at this moment Sofia just wanted to die.


TAG:Remy LeBeau

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Remy LeBeau
 Posted: Oct 9 2016, 07:35 PM
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Most of February, and all of March so far had been… Difficult. Remy had continued to show up to work, save for two weeks while he had helped put together the team of people who had headed down to New Orleans to save those who had been taken, kidnapped, by the Facility. He had thought those two weeks would be the hardest part of Laura’s kidnapping, the waiting and learning and more waiting. And then learning that all his waiting, all his work and planning, had recovered a daughter with no memories of him, of her wife, of her life.

Remy’s teaching had come to a halt for two weeks, and then a few extra days had gone by while he had… Tried to work things out.

And then more bad news. More tragedy.

Now, he was sinking himself into work and those who needed him still. Thieving, teaching, his students… He simply just buried himself in his work. It was easier than trying to sort through the wreckage of his life right now. He wasn’t ready for that, not entirely, and so here he was, taking on a new student for fencing.

Fencing was not a group class. Remy did not work with more than one student at a time; it wasn’t a popular enough subject to require him to, thank goodness, and it was easier to custom make a learning plan for a single student rather than try to accommodate several students who might need to work on different skills, or have differing backgrounds and previous instruction, either giving them a leg up, or creating a group of habits to break.

He walked into the room as silently as the thief he was, and watched his newest pupil as she danced and sang to the song that was obviously playing in her earbuds. When Sofia turned around, Remy was leaning against one of the mirrors, his red-on-black eyes watching her carefully, not with any inappropriate emotion, but rather with curiosity and the sharpness of someone who had been accessing what he saw.

The girl moved easily enough. Her taste in music wasn’t the same as his, but that was why different genres existed. To appeal to different people. ”She es no de sort o’ music I prefer, but et es good t’see yo’ know how t’move. If yo’ don’t know how t’keep ahold o’ yo’ weapon.” He gave her a smile, and then shrugged, ”Two classes wit’ me, an’ yo’ won’ be doing dat anymore.” Dropping the sword, he meant. Then he shifted to stand straight up and move closer to her, ”So, tell me, Miss Mantega, what es et dat yo’ want t’gain from dese lessons?”

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Sofia Mantega
 Posted: Oct 18 2016, 04:10 AM
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He had been standing there, leaning against one of the mirrors, red-on-black eyes bewitching just as it was in some ways unsettling as it seemed he was watching her carefully. Oh not in a creepy old man kin of inappropriateness, but rather to Sofia seemed more like an appraising curiosity which in her light was probably worse for the fact that now she was feeling grossly self-conscious. Naturally at said self-consciousness Sofia tried to cover up with a lame attempt at humor.

'Don't you just love Ciara...really?!' Sofia internally bemoaned her choice of an English sentence. Of all the possible combinations of words she could have strung together to salvage some form of 'cool', she had to have said the must lame and uncool thing. Seriously what was she thinking?! He didn't look like he even listened to R&B or even looked interested in the hip hop scene. Ciara?! ...'kill me now'

There were many different and appropriate ways Sofia thought to herself that she could die. All of which much more preferable than the embarrassment that was her life situations and at this moment it was being caught singing and dancing by probably one of the hottest people she'd ever met. Yeah forget Gabriel Aubrey, Ryan Reynolds, Aiden Turner, Charlie Hunnam ok actually don't forget them, they are hot too, but they weren't 'real' or at least she'd only ever seen them as pics on the internet or on TV or in billboard ads so they lacked the same sort of quaking stomach churning butterfly spinning my legs are about to give out kind of squealy glee-ness. The only thing that would have come close to this feeling or rather much worse would be meeting Cristiano Ronaldo in person, live and him speaking to her though she would prefer he not speak in Portuguese. Ahhh distrcations, Sofia blinked as the man began to address her. Swallowing, the young Venezuelan girl forced herself to listen, not that looking at him or hanging on his voice was difficult but it was understanding his accent and trying not to get distracted by his movement and well for lack of a better word, swagger.

The man had a very natural grace to him when he walked and even shrugged. There was a quiet effortlessness in his movements and while he had a very commanding visage or presence he also did not feel all encompassing. Yes he had a presence, a type of gravitas to his demeanor and his style and speech, but it was not in the audacious notice me kind of way. It was the quiet, seamless notice. If only she had that kind of quiet seamlessness, she could quietly just seep into the background and disappear out of sheer humiliation, however such was not the case for the young Venezuelan. She just needed to face this head on and navigate as best she could.

”She es no de sort o’ music I prefer, but et es good t’see yo’ know how t’move. If yo’ don’t know how t’keep ahold o’ yo’ weapon.” the man had said

"Ah, si..." the Venezuelan could not help but offer a small embarrassed smile and a blush as she was called out at what she think was him saying she didn't know how to hold the weapon, wait this floppy thing was an actual weapon? And did he just say that she knew how to move? That bit registered latently but made her faux pas of ignorance feel less as humiliating and well so did his smile.

He gave her a smile, and then shrugged, ”Two classes wit’ me, an’ yo’ won’ be doing dat anymore.” The man then shifted his stance to right himself away from the mirrored wall he was leaning against and move closer to her, ”So, tell me, Miss Mantega, what es et dat yo’ want t’gain from dese lessons?”

He knew her name, she was trying not to internally squee but it failed the man knew her name...wait he knew her name, how did he know her name and then he mentioned lessons; of course he was her teacher. Great, even more time to make a fool of herself in front of the cool teacher. Yes this day was going on stunningly.

" No lo sé. I don't really know..." Sofia answered honestly and probably sounded stupid for it. "It just seemed uhm interesting? That is the word no? It looks like a dance only with these..." she wiggled the sword thing again as the bladed wobbled around. "I like dancing, I thought it would be fun. And if it can make me look as cool as Catherine Zeta Jones did in the Mask of Zorro, well Senior I would die a happy girl."

You know in her head is sounded much cooler until she spoke it and internally she facepalmed. Why could she not have said something like improve her footwork? Or focus? Or speed and agility, why did she always think of the smart things after she did the stupid things?

"So, you are my teacher then, no?" she asked moving on again to detracted from her awkward and stupid so very very stupid reply.



TAG: Remy LeBeau
NOTE: Sorry for delay, did not get email notification that this thread was replied to like all the others but gonna start checking in on threads manually. Apologies again, I'm usually faster than this.

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Remy LeBeau
 Posted: Oct 22 2016, 11:41 PM
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Remy wasn’t trying to be disconcerting; this was his classroom - it was marked as such on the door - and the girl was, he strongly suspected, his newest student. And it was easier to get a feel of what she was capable, how she moved, where her agility was at, all the things he needed to know in order to begin to teach her. Observing her like this, quietly, her being natural, was the best way to get an honest assessment.

But once Sofia noticed him there, that chance to assess her agility and fluidity of her motions had passed. Now she was moving with a self consciousness that everyone possessed when they knew they were being watched. When they were being observed, even passively.

It was amusing to watch her second guess her decisions, but at the same time, it wasn’t good that she was so nervous, though. Crossing the majority of the room to a small table that sat inconspicuously against the wall and hit a button on a small tablet, which sent music to start playing in the room and Remy flashed the young woman a grin that was playful, but not entirely genuine. He was still hurting, deeply, from everything that had happened, still trying to figure out where his life was supposed to go now. Still, the music was good music, it was music he could move to, and that was important.

Taking one of the foils from the stand, Remy shifted into an ‘en garde’ position, neither aggressive nor defensive, and made a few practice parries and ripostes. He moved with grace, both born of his heightened agility from his mutation, but also the sort of grace learned from years and years of practice and work until it had become natural. When she answered honestly, that she wasn’t sure, Remy shrugged and smiled, ”Well, at least yo’ did no say dat yo’ want t’duel someone.” Remy wrinkled his nose, ”Dey are no as fun or glorious as people t’ink.” When she wiggled the sword, sending it aquiver. With a shake of his head, he shifted toward her, straightening her arm, bending her wrist just slightly, so that neither the wrist nor the elbow was truly locked in place, readjusting her grip on the handle, and then nodded, ”Now, like dis,” he showed her a parry, just a flick of his wrist that sent the weapon into a neat circle with nearly no real effort. ”She did no fight well. She jus’ lunged a lot en dat movie. Once yo’ start t’really learn, yo’ will be much better dan her.”

He grinned, and then told her earnest, ”Oui, I am yo’ teacher fo’ dis class. Don’ worry, petite, fencing is like dancing. An’ yo’ already know how t’dance.”

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Sofia Mantega
 Posted: Dec 10 2016, 10:45 PM
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Sofia watched as the tall man crossed the room with a graceful stride that was neither willowy or feminine but rather fluid, with purpose and confidence but it also bellied a certain agility to his steps for most men his size did not move as 'gracefully' if once could call his movements that without detracting from his motions. It wasn't flighty of airy like a ballerina, but her certainly moved with fluid efficacy. As a dancer, movements of the body were a thing she just naturally noticed in people. It was more of a habit to notice grace than it was an intentional thing that she did.

To a small table the man had headed to, walked purposefully to were there sat inconspicuously against the wall a small tablet, which he proceeded to touch and send MUSIC to start playing in the room. The older man then flashed Sofia a playful grin that while handsomely wily a smile she couldn't help but feel like the glee didn't quite touch his eyes. Then again what did she know? Maybe that was just the way the man smiled. Sofia did not allow the thought to occupy her mind too much as the eclectic music naturally pulled at her attention more. She loved music and she loved to dance and while it would seem that the young Venezuelan was not the type to listen to music like this, there wasn't a beat or rhythm she couldn't dance to and there was just something about the eclectic sounds of the musical instruments and the pulsing beat of the music that made Sofia's lips quirk into a small smile as she bobbed her head to the beat unintentionally. It wasn't her style of music by any stretch of the imagination but she could dance to it if she wanted to; she could find the beat.

His movements though pulled her from her thoughts of music as the man took one of the foils from the stand, suddenly Remy shifted into some kind of fighting position or some sort that was neither aggressive nor defensive, and made a few practice movements that looked rather impressive to a girl that knew very little of fencing other than what she's seen in movies. Still there was a fluidity in him that made it easy for her to watch. He moved with efficacy and grace that Sofia wondered if it was natural or simply the product of years of practice and work.
When he had asked her why she was taking the class Sofia could not help but answer honestly even if it made her sound a bit daft or maybe just lacking. Remy then shrugged and smiled, ”Well, at least yo’ did no say dat yo’ want t’duel someone.” Remy wrinkled his nose, ”Dey are no as fun or glorious as people t’ink.”

"Duels?" Sofia asked arching her brow a little in surprise even as her head still bobbed a little to the music in the background; it was an autonomic response for her when music played. "Do people actually still do those? I thought that was only in ancient times."

When she wiggled the sword, sending the blade aquiver, it seemed she'd done it all wrong as the man shook his head, he shifted toward her and straightened her arm, bent her wrist just slightly, so that neither the wrist nor the elbow was truly locked in place. He then readjusted her grip on the handle.

"This actually feels more natural...better." Sofia commented as the weapon in her hand felt less cumbersome and awkward now.

Remy nodded then proceeded to speak, ”Now, like dis,” he showed her a neat little movement with just a flick of his wrist that sent the weapon into a neat circle with nearly no real effort.
With concentration Sofia watched and like a choreographer showing her a new dance move, Sofia mimicked the intricate movements the man had just shown in an effort to replicate his actions. "Like this?" Sofia asked as she tried to mimic the man's parrying movements. It certainly helped holding the weapon in the manner he had shown her. Now her movements with it were less cumbersome and awkward. And when she commented on wanting to learn how to fight like Catherine Zeta Jones in the Mask of Zoro, Sofia was surprised at the kernel of information he had given.

”She did no fight well. She jus’ lunged a lot en dat movie. Once yo’ start t’really learn, yo’ will be much better dan her.”

It was a little hard to follow his accent at times when he spoke but Sofia wasn't exactly going to be the one to start talking about accents. She was certain some people found her accent a bit strange as well she was sure of it. That being said though, the man had such a smooth tone to his voice that really it didn't matter that he drawled things out, it sounded good no matter what he said. Catching the gist of what he was telling her Sofia nodded in understanding. "I will hold you to that." she said with a smile before asking if he was her instructor.

He grinned, and then told her earnest, ”Oui, I am yo’ teacher fo’ dis class. Don’ worry, petite, fencing is like dancing. An’ yo’ already know how t’dance.”

"If fencing is like dancing then I will love this class, because I love to dance." she said with a grin that rivalled his.

"So where do we start?" she asked taking on a similar stance of 'en guard' that he had taken earlier. She wasn't even sure if that was how one started but well he started that way before so it was as good a thing as any to let him know she was ready to learn. He would correct her if needed, she was fine with that.


Tag: Remy LeBeau



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Remy LeBeau
 Posted: Dec 13 2016, 10:06 PM
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The music was for Sofia’s benefit, not Remy’s. Remy could fight, could find the rhythm of a spar or a battle, without music. And eventually, so too would Sofia, but for now, she was a novice, and he played the music to show her that swordwork, like footwork, moved to a rhythm. No, Remy didn’t move airily, and he didn’t move only lightly; his motions had weight to them, though they also had a grace.


Each movement he made served him a purpose. It moved him forward, moved him back or to a side, it placed his weapon in a better position, it guarded him against attack… There were no wasted movements, no energy spent needlessly. Remy was efficient, he was agile, and he was fluid. The fencing foil became as a part of him, the smallest flicks of his wrist sending the weapon shifting silently to circle, parry, and strike. Was his grace natural, or practiced? If Sofia had asked, Remy would have laughed and told her, ‘both’. He had practiced his bladework every day for years; he had had the best teachers, and he still perfected little motions each day. There was always room to improve, after all. Remy didn’t stay on the top of his game by saying he was good… He stayed there by practicing, exercising, and perfecting. By inventing or learning new stances, new thrusts and parries…


Duels. With a sharp nod of his head, Remy affirmed his statement, ”Depends on where yo’ are… But oui, dey still do dose. An’ dey are no fun.” He helped her with her grip, adjusting her arm and wrist, and smiled when she agreed that it was better. b]”Oui. Like dat. Jus’ tiny movements, no need t’overwork yo’self, yo’ see?”[/b] he flicked his wrist again, sending the sword in a neat circle, ”Dis es a good parry fo’ a novice - yo’ still learning, but yo’ do dis right, an’ yo’ send de sword o’ yo’ opponent t’de side, no at yo’.” He repeated the motion again, and added a side step, just a small step, getting out of the way of an imaginary thrust. ”Once yo’ parry, yo’ know which way t’step.”


Everyone had some momentous sword fight from some movie or another. Sofia’s wasn’t any better or worse than any sword fight from any other movie, really. ”What yo’ see en de movies is no real fighting. Dey exaggerate t’ings, slow t’ings down, so et es entertaining t’watch.”


”So where do we start?”


With a sincere laugh, Remy shook his head, ”Jus’ so.” he corrected her stance to proper for her, and then chuckled again, ”We es already started, petite…” he motioned to her stance, and then nodded, stepping back and away from her so she could watch him, and once again flicked his wrist, ”Show me.”

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Sofia Mantega
 Posted: Dec 18 2016, 09:12 PM
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As Remy spoke, the music ever present in the background acted like a rhythm; a pulse she was ever aware of even if in a subconscious level, her body couldn't help but keep to its time. Her head bobbing slightly or her foot tapping to it. Small minute movements of her body that denoted she was keeping time. It was hard really for Sofia to be completely still when music played. Her body just liked to find the beat and with everything there was a movement; a pulse. Sofia then watched as Remy moved, to demonstrate and she could not help but notice the efficiency of his movements, the fluidity and economy or action that he took. It was swift, it was fluid but above all he moved with a purpose.

He moved forward and back, side to side placing his weapon in various positions that while at the moment Sofia did not understand all the postures, know all the names of the movements or positions to guard against attack it was simple enough to imagine with the man's movements what exactly it was he was doing. Sofia could not help but notice that there was no grandstanding or superfluous flourishes; none of his movements were wasted. Energy was not spent wastefully by Sofia's reckoning. She may not be a fighter but she understood the body's movements as dance often stretched a person's body to its limits. Even as dancers she was aware of placement, movement, extensions and understood that there were moments that the economy of movement was required over flourished expression. It seemed sword fighting in that respects was no different. Though she wondered if in sword fighting, like dance one could glean a bit of a person's personality from the way they moved with their blade.

In this case, with the deadly efficacy of Remy's movements and focused intent, she wondered if this was more real to him than some Olympic sport. He mentioned duels and that some still did so today. Did he partake in such things? And were they more like the Olympic style duels with more blunted weapons or were they sharp and first cut wins? And really who on earth would sanction such a blood sport? Surely he wasn't talking about real life duels to the death...was he? It suddenly became much more intriguing to watch the man demonstrate for her.

Remy was efficient, agile, fluid and most of all calculating, at least from what Sofia could discern from watching him. It was in some ways mesmerizing to watch him. The fencing foil became an extension of him, with the smallest flicks of his wrist sending the weapon shifting silently to move in predetermined manners that while Sofia did not know the terms of parry or guard or thrusts she could discern the subtle differences with his actions.

He helped her with her grip, adjusting her arm and wrist, and smiled at her when she agreed that it was better. It was then that Sofia realized she liked when he smiled. He had this strange roguish way about him and when he smiled Sofia felt like she'd melt. Sometimes the man just screamed smoldering Guess Ad but then he'd move with his sword and well things changed a bit to a more serious more macabre edge to him though maybe that was just her imagination, but she could see the focus in him with that blade and while he was 'pretty' to watch, the man was dangerous too or well seemed that way to Sofia. It made Remy that much more interesting how he played the balance of friendly instructor and dangerous fighter with a very suave demeanor about him. Still, she liked when he smiled, he seemed less deadly and more GQ. She could live with GQ instructor.

”Oui. Like dat. Jus’ tiny movements, no need t’overwork yo’self, yo’ see?” he flicked his wrist again, sending the sword in a neat circle.

Sofia nodded and watched as he moved again, demonstrating for her. ”Dis es a good parry fo’ a novice - yo’ still learning, but yo’ do dis right, an’ yo’ send de sword o’ yo’ opponent t’de side, no at yo’.” He repeated the motion again, and added a side step, just a small step, getting out of the way of an imaginary thrust. ”Once yo’ parry, yo’ know which way t’step.”

Sofia nodded again, her eyes focused on his movements, his words of explanation as she tried to commit them to memory. Like a choreographer explaining for her the movements of the dance and the 'method or reason' behind it, Remy was doing something similar and well picking up choreography was always an easy thing for Sofia, mind you picking up sword fighting movements might be a different story. Still she would try her best and do what he instructed. So when Sofia asked when they should start she was a bit surprised by his response.

With a sincere laugh, Remy shook his head, ”Jus’ so.” he corrected her stance to proper for her, and then chuckled again, ”We es already started, petite…” he motioned to her stance, and then nodded, stepping back and away from her so she could watch him, and once again flicked his wrist, ”Show me.”

Sofia smiled then, couldn't help really to contain it as she realized A) he just sounded like Syrio Forel with his 'just so' and Sofia decided that Remy was definitely her Syrio and also B ) aside from his smile, Sofia liked Remy's laugh as well. Sure he was UBER old for her and she was not by any means even fashioning a thought of dating or any sort of thing but seriously, she could appreciate a hot fencing teacher. And lets be honest here it would give her something to look forward to when coming to class. Srsly her attendance would be perfect. Then with a nod at his urging to 'show him' what he had just taught her, Sofia did.

"Like this?..." she asked mirroring as best she could the movements and actions he had demonstrated and explained while trying to keep in mind what he had shown her about the grip of the sword. Her mind focused for the moment on getting the 'choreography' of the movements just right and forgetting her original internal musings of the aesthetics of her instructor. All things aside, Sofia was also a bit of a perfectionist and just like she attacked her dance she took it very seriously and tried to put into practice what it was he had showed her.

"And, am I allowed to talk while we do this or keep the chatting to a minimum?...And what are your expectations of your students for this class?" she asked as she finished the movement and looked to him to see if she'd done it right. They were legit questions by Sofia's understanding and well it was good to know what she could and couldn't do in the class. After all she was a natural chatter box and good to know now if she was not supposed to talk at all.

"How was that?" she asked awaiting his critique of her movements and positioning.


TAG: Remy LeBeau


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Remy LeBeau
 Posted: Dec 23 2016, 01:49 AM
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When Remy was just standing, when he wasn’t showing Sofia a stance or technique, he was not still. His fingers ticked, his hands and arms shifted, he let his weight flow from leg to let. He fidgeted. It wasn’t a nervous habit, and didn’t even have the appearance of it; he was simply full of energy, and the need to expend it. But when he was teaching, when he demonstrated something for his new pupil, his movements died away; he settled into a calm, focused state of mind. Sword fighting was something Remy did, and had done since he’d been a boy, to find this quietude within himself; he’d been an overly active, energetic child, which had manifested in his mutation in a destructive way. He didn’t twitch and fidget because he was nervous, or because he was unable to focus on something, he twitched and fidgeted because he was full of energy, and sought ways to expend or control it. When he had a blade in his hand, he could fall into this place, where the world slowed down and Remy could be in control, not of the world, but of himself.

The lack of what Sofia would call grandstanding was a call to his skill; he didn’t need to flourish so that his opponent’s eye was drawn away from his attack, he didn’t need to boast of his abilities, because his abilities spoke for themselves. Remy’s attitude toward his skill with a blade was quiet, but possessed a security that lesser swordsmen lacked.

Sofia wondered about duels; Remy could tell her just who might sanction such a thing, and what the rules were. But he’d be reluctant to offer the information and just leave it at that. She would learn the rules, of course, that was part of the class, but Remy rarely spoke of his own personal experience with dueling. As he had said, duels were not glamorous or romantic. They were hard, bloody things. Things that had no place a school like this.

Oh, had Remy been a mind reader, hearing Sofia decide that he was like Syrio Forel would have had him grinning. He enjoyed the show; the swords, and the fighting for that matter, were less offensive to him as a trained swordsman. And, well, the story was entertaining, too. Remy amused himself with guessing which popular character would die next.

Watching the young woman, Remy found himself relaxing for the first time since… Too long. Most of his students for this class were farther along, and many of them possessed a martial mutation to start with, but Sofia was doing this because she wanted to learn, not because she wanted to fight, and that put Remy more at ease. ”Oui, jus’ remember how t’hold yo’ arm. Yo’ don’ have t’move et t’parry except t’line up the parry t’the incoming attack.” When she asked about speaking in class and his expectations, Remy laughed again, giving her a shrug, ”I will no stop yo’ from talking, petite. But dese classes are no regular classes. I do no teach many students at one time. An’ I expect yo’ t’show up, an’ t’come willing t’learn, no matter what de lesson I intend t’teach es. An’ I expect yo’ t’work hard when yo’ here.” Not every lesson would be learning a technique, or a stance, not every lesson would even involve the swords… She needed to come with an open mind, and she needed to pay attention.

Again, once she had made her motions, Remy corrected her stance and positioning, small corrections, but helping her learn by putting her back to exact. Eventually, she would gain muscle memory, and would no longer need him to correct her each time. ”Bon,” he nodded with a smile, ”Again.”

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Sofia Mantega
 Posted: Dec 27 2016, 01:43 AM
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As he instructed, Sofia moved trying to keep in mind the positions he had set her body in earlier, trying to keep what he had said as a reminder when she moved. It truly was like a choreographed dance only this was more intricate a placement of body and weapon. It wasn't just the steps but also the balance, the poise in which she needed to hold the weapon; in which to move with it. It was like clockwork with all the gears and moving parts all set in motion for one purpose, one predetermined position at exactly the right timing and exactly the correct placement. Take a step too slow or move with the weapon too early and the intent, the effectiveness of the strike or the parry would be lost. Just like dance, the slightest misstep the slightest break in concentration and you miss your mark, you lose your spot or your balance and the dance then falters.

No, Sofia has since decided that sword training if very very much like dance; right down to the repetition of movements in what Sofia could only assume was to gain some muscle memory so as the imbed the movements; ingrain it within the movements so that it becomes an autonomic response and happens without thought. Until it becomes instinctive. How many times did they have her practicing her releves or pirouettes in dance? How many times did she do those moves for how many years and to this day she still practices them and performs them. So that was much like what Remy had her doing today and why it was that Sofia didn't mind being asked to repeat the movements again and again. Maybe some people would get tired of the same motions, movements, repetition but Sofia was used to this and she was used to the outside critiques of her movement and positioning, so much so that there was never once a sigh of impatience or a roll of the eyes as she was asked to do it again. She simply did as instructed and made the necessary corrections and hoping the next time she had improved and did not make the same mistake twice in a row.

”Oui, jus’ remember how t’hold yo’ arm. Yo’ don’ have t’move et t’parry except t’line up the parry t’the incoming attack.”
Remy had advised and Sofia nodded in understanding and attempted the movement again.

Sofia could not help but look to the man after performing the motions again, hoping this time it was at least a little better. As she moved though she could not help but ask her questions. She was always full of questions.

Remy laughed again at her question of talking and his expectations, as he gave her a shrug, ”I will no stop yo’ from talking, petite. But dese classes are no regular classes. I do no teach many students at one time. An’ I expect yo’ t’show up, an’ t’come willing t’learn, no matter what de lesson I intend t’teach es. An’ I expect yo’ t’work hard when yo’ here.” Remy had said and so far aside from the permission to talk during their sessions it really was shaping up to be like dance class only with a sword. Mind you she was a bit curious what he meant by 'no matter what the lesson was. Were there students that actually refused to learn a lesson? What could he have possibly asked them that would make them questions or even stop instructions? Sofia really couldn't think of a reason but then again she wasn't really thinking it out fully. She was after all still trying to make her movements precise and right.

Again, once she had made her motions, Remy corrected her stance and positioning, small corrections, that helped her learn by putting her back to exact placement. Once again the similarities of dance came into thought as often her dance instructors would come up from behind and readjust her arms or her head even the arch of her back, her waist even her feet, so Sofia was also accustomed to being 'adjusted'.

”Bon,” he nodded with a smile, ”Again.”

With that, Sofia started again from the first position and then followed through as instructed. Only then did she stop and decide to ask.

"So, did you learn sword fighting this way too?" Sofia asked as she went through the same motions again trying to make a conscious effort to remember his adjustments as she went through the motions again without complaint. "And how long have you been training in this? I can only assume you still train, but when did you start?"

Sofia frowned a little realizing that she'd made the same mistake again and remembering his words she made the small adjustments on the next attempt.

"And why did you decide to learn this and now teach it?" she asked when she finished the movement once again looking to her mentor, not only for the critique in her movements but also in answer to her questions.


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Remy LeBeau
 Posted: Jan 2 2017, 04:23 PM
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Watching Sofia was… Unique. Remy had seen students come into swordwork with a certain natural knack for it; he had done so himself. But dancers had a different sort of grace to them, and Sofia was certainly a dancer. But she was adjusting to the differences, the added weight of the weapon, the shift in balance because of the extension of her arm.. Small things, but very important in the larger scale of things. She wasn’t wrong about the repetition; it was so much a requirement that Remy had found, years ago, that his sword arm had much more strength than his off arm. And he had immediately moved to correct that, practicing primarily with his off arm for a while, and now he switched easily between the two. It was reminiscent of an old movie;

”Then why are you smiling?
“Because I know something you don’t know.”
“And what is that?”
“I am not left-handed.”


Remy’s smile grew at the memory of the movie’s scene. He was neither Inigo Montoya nor The Man in Black, but he enjoyed both of them, even if their sword fight was very fake. They’d had fun with it, hadn’t even tried to be serious about it, not really, dropping the names of very famous swordsman of the time period… And Remy had, even as a young man, enjoyed it. There were very real lessons in the movie, after all.

Watching Sofia with a keen eye, Remy saw a few small mistakes, but those would correct themselves with time as she built up strength in her sword arm. Still, he corrected them for her, so she did not begin to slide out of form. ”Oui, bon.” he smiled, falling into the french easily, not even noticing as he did. When he mentioned that she come willing to learn, no matter the lesson, he saw her quizzical look. Curious one, she was. But that was good. He smiled, leaning to murmur to her almost conspiratorially, ”I mean, petite, dat yo’ do as asked, even if I ask yo’ t’catch cats.” The grin he gave her was wide, but there was still that underlying sadness to him. That would only take time to leave him, but he had hope that it eventually would.

Did he learn this way? Remy laughed and shook his head, ”Non, but et es no for yo’ t’learn de way I did.” So full of questions. Remy shook his head, ”I have been training wit’ de sword since I was… Eight o’ nine. I still train, o’ course.” He was quiet for a few moments, adjusting her after she made the motions to again fall back into perfect, proper form. But each time there were just a bit less corrections; she was learning. And tomorrow she would learn again, make more mistakes, and Remy would correct them. But that was what it was, at least at first. ”Mon frere taught me. No like dis. Where we are from, dere es less time t’learn. Yo’ learn more quickly… Et es no ideal. Dis… Dis es better.”

When he saw her correct herself, he smiled and nodded, ”Very good, petite. Very good.” He chuckled, ”I learned because all o’ us learned. An’ I teach dis because my friend asked me t’come teach. I teach dis, an’ I teach French. I like et, so I stayed.” A simple explanation, far more simple than reality. He loved to teach; it made him feel useful again when he had thought he would never be. Accepted. Wanted. Like he belonged here. Even Logan had accepted him with some time. And he stayed because of that. Even though sometimes, walking the halls reminded him, painfully, of Marie. Even though sometimes, he considered that Laura was missing. But home was filled with memories, that was what made it home, and Xavier’s school had been Remy LeBeau’s home.

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Sofia Mantega
 Posted: Jan 8 2017, 09:53 PM
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Sofia moved and re-positioned herself as requested when corrected making mental notes on not just the paused form but also the movements leading up to the finish. Everything seemed to have a purpose, a function to the movement so it wasn’t just the final pose or the finished pose of a strike, but it was how she’d get to that position; how her feet would move to get to a solid offensive stance or defensive one, or where her arms would need to be - extended fully or partially -and with how much force and speed would her arms be required to move. Even the small considerations of head position, eyes sighting down in what direction. Literally every movement, every pivot or swerve in the end would determine the success of her actions. Then as Remy corrected her and Sofia made the necessary changes, the Venezuelan girl could not help but ask for clarifications on a few things.

”I mean, petite, dat yo’ do as asked, even if I ask yo’ t’catch cats.” The grin he gave her was wide, but there was still that underlying something there….was it sadness? Sofia wasn’t sure, it seemed like it but she’d only just met the man and wasn’t even certain if she was imagining things or if it really was there. His smile enough was distracting along with his words but still Sofia couldn’t shake that feeling that what she saw just might be a sadness in the man. Still she did not know him and he was her instructor. It wasn’t like a student that she could just go up and ask if they were alright. He might even find it offensive that she should ask. She didn’t know him enough to act on any assumptions so instead Sofia just decided that she would try to at least do her best to hold his sadness at bay.

She laughed then at his expectation of her to do as he asked, even if he asked her to catch cats. Inside Sofia was squeeing, not only was her instructor hot, he was also cool! He knew Game of Thrones which meant he either read the books like Sofia or watched the show which Sofia also did and the fangirl in her could not help but rise to the occasion. “Even if you asked me to chase cats or stand on one toe at the edge of a staircase for hours like a water dancer.” she pledged as she smiled broadly not even the least bit subtle about what she is referring to. He obviously knew Game of Thrones and so her reference of standing on one toe as Arya did to learn the water dance Seryo was teaching her would be an obvious reference as well as the terms ‘water dancer’. She was liking her instructor more and more and she wasn’t lying about agreeing to do what is required to learn. In the short period of time being around Remy, Sofia already felt at ease or as easy as she could be around someone she’d just met. He seemed a capable teacher and she trusted him not take advantage of that trust. Perhaps she was a bit too quick to trust people and perhaps to some it was a flaw, however Sofia did not see any indication otherwise not to trust Remy as her instructor and so she did and would follow his requests as best she could and to the best of her ability.

Sofia moved again to perform a parry as she spoke, asking if Remy had learned this way as well or if he was instructed differently. To her surprise it seemed he was taught in a different manner. Perhaps people were trained differently based on how the instructor saw fit and what they had to work with, Sofia mused.

”Non, but et es no for yo’ t’learn de way I did.” Remy replied as he shook his head, ”I have been training wit’ de sword since I was… Eight o’ nine. I still train, o’ course.”

“That is quite young.” Sofia replied wondering where Remy grew up that they though at 8 years old it would be a good idea to train the child with a sword.

Remy was quiet for a few moments, then as he adjusted Sofia after she made the motions to again try to fall back into, proper form. But each time there were small corrections; she was learning. And Sofia knew that she needed to remember these and tonight practice again to try to commit as much as she could with her memory. She would continue to do this until it was she’d mastered the movements. Even as she moved though and concentrated to making the appropriate changes she still asked her questions and listened to Remy as he spoke.

”Mon frere taught me. No like dis. Where we are from, dere es less time t’learn. Yo’ learn more quickly… Et es no ideal. Dis… Dis es better.”

Sofia smiled and nodded even as she went through the movements of a parry again, still she was unable to stop her questions or her curiosity. “Frere, is that like your father?” Sofia asked not knowing French, “Where you are from sounds more dangerous if you had to learn more quickly in less than ideal situations...where are you from? And did everyone start off as young as you?” Sofia asked catching herself on a mistake and righting herself, she smiled then when Remy smiled as he caught her adjustment.

When he saw her correct herself, he smiled and nodded, ”Very good, petite. Very good.” He chuckled, ”I learned because all o’ us learned. An’ I teach dis because my friend asked me t’come teach. I teach dis, an’ I teach French. I like et, so I stayed.”

Sofia nodded in understanding, it seemed a good enough reason as any to be doing this and teaching at the school. “So, do you miss it? Your home, where you were from that taught you this type of sword fighting? Are all in your family swordsmen like you?”


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Remy LeBeau
 Posted: Jan 18 2017, 02:30 PM
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She took correction well. That was good; not everyone did, and too many simply fell right back into what felt more comfortable. Holding your arm the way that was necessary became uncomfortable in a short time, but if you held out, if you fought the instinct to shift down just slightly, which was far more comfortable, your arm would gain strength, and soon it was just as comfortable to hold the sword properly as the improper way. As a dancer, Sofia likely already understood that, but it was still nice to have at least one student who saw that doing it the right away each time had a benefit. Every few times Sofia tried to make the motion properly, Remy would stop her and show her again, allowing her to see how it was meant to be performed, what actions she would need to take; this was the hardest part of the learning - he couldn’t fix every minutia of her motion, she had to do that on her own.

Eventually, she’d do that, and she would advance. For now, she would need to be patient.

Remy had lost too much not to be sad underneath all of the facade he put up. Too many people he had loved and had lost. Too many of them that he still loved. He had suffered more loss than his years should have allowed, and he knew it. Loves, home, family… Some people were made to suffer. To carry a burden that they could only just barely shoulder. Remy seemed to be one of those people, but he tried to carry it well. He made sure he could still smile over the pain. Today, he covered that pain with the salve of teaching, and it mostly worked.

Sofia’s easy agreement to do whatever he requested, even chasing cats or standing on her toes at the edge of a staircase had Remy smiling more easily, and more genuinely. ”Bon. I will no have yo’ stand at de edge o’ a staircase, though. Dat es only asking yo’ t’fall, eventually.” He laughed quietly, and then shrugged, ”Yo’ toes do no need t’be strong t’use a sword. But yo’ will need a sense o’ balance, an’ a strong arm. Yo’ might want t’start exercising yo’ arms - bot’ o’ dem - when yo’ have time. An’ don’ stop dancing, petite. Dat gives yo’ balance.” They were suggestions; Remy didn’t truly expect any student to do work they didn’t need to do, not unless it counted toward a grade, but if Sofia actually was interested in learning the sword, then she would exercise. Remy had, and he had worked hard. Of course, at eight and nine years old, he had wanted to prove to his new family that he could do what they wanted. He had striven extra hard to make them proud and pleased.

”I was old enough.” Remy gave a shrug, ”An’ younger dan most o’ my classmates. De swords were no sharp, don’ worry.” he chuckled quietly, and continued to correct her, letting her ask her questions, and answering as he could, and as he would. ”Frere es french. Fo’ brother. My brother taught me.” He smiled, ”I had a late start en my education. Henri was only trying t’teach me quickly t’catch me up.” Remy hesitated to answer her questions of his origins, but eventually he shrugged, ”I was from New Orleans. An’ no, no everyone dere learned what I did. Jus’ dose like me.”

It was good that she was beginning to see and correct her own mistakes. It meant that she could practice without him there and still see where she needed to work on further. ”Et does no matter if I miss et, Sofia. I canno go back dere. An’ oui, mon frere et Pere are both swordsmen. Dey are all de family I have.” Where ‘frere’ was spoken with respect, the word ‘Pere’ had a whole new depth to it, and even if Sofia knew nothing of french, that the word meant ‘father’ was evident simply in the tone that Remy used. Father, and one whom Remy revered...

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Sofia Mantega
 Posted: Feb 5 2017, 12:23 PM
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Her easy agreement to do whatever Remy requested, including cat chasing and standing on her toes at the edge of a staircase seemed to have Remy smiling more genuinely and Sofia was glad she could do a simple thing as that to the man as every once in a while he would say something or have a look in his eyes that denoted a deep sadness but then she really didn't know the man and wasn't sure if what she was seeing was really what it was or if she was misreading. However the ease in which he smiled and the more genuine way in which it touched his eyes made Sofia think that maybe she wasn't seeing things before. Sofia naturally smiled back at her instructor though, in part for being able to make him smile and offer a small reprieve from whatever saddened him but also because he seemed to approve of her movement.

”Bon. I will no have yo’ stand at de edge o’ a staircase, though. Dat es only asking yo’ t’fall, eventually.” He laughed quietly, and then shrugged, ”Yo’ toes do no need t’be strong t’use a sword. But yo’ will need a sense o’ balance, an’ a strong arm. Yo’ might want t’start exercising yo’ arms - bot’ o’ dem - when yo’ have time. An’ don’ stop dancing, petite. Dat gives yo’ balance.”

"I will and I won't." Sofia replied as she went through another string of movements only to also latently realize that her earlier statement probably needed a bit of clarification. "What I mean by that is, I *will* practice and strengthen both my arms and I *won't* stop dancing." she said finishing off a parry and holding her position as her eyes moved to Remy in question as to the appropriateness of her stance and position of the sword.

"Do I strengthen with weights or just resistance or both?" Sofia asked. She was definitely going to work on her arm strength as she knew she was weak in the upper body department or at least comparatively. Her balance though, was good but there was always room for improvement so she made a note to work on that as well. "Any tips on how to do that would be helpful. But as for dancing, don't worry, I will never stop dancing." she smiled.

"Do you dance?" she asked as she moved on to move to the next position with her sword and as she did continued on to ask her questions, this time of how long he'd been training with swords which seemed to be a long time from his description. She liked that he allowed her the freedom to ask what she wanted and he in turn seemed to answer her without rebuke. Not many adults were this forthcoming so she appreciated his candor.

At her question of missing his home Remy gave a curious answer. ”Et does no matter if I miss et, Sofia. I canno go back dere. An’ oui, mon frere et Pere are both swordsmen. Dey are all de family I have.”

Sofia nodded though noticed that where ‘frere’ was spoken with respect, the word ‘Pere’ had a different tone and depth to it, and while Sofia knew nothing of French, or that that the word meant ‘father’ it was evident in the tone that Remy used he revered him...

"I am sorry that you cannot go back." she said moving to a different position, "I can't go back either, at least not for a while." she corrected herself, her brow furrowing slightly for the mis-step but as soon as she realized her error she amended it. "Who is this 'Pere'? They sound important."

Then putting her sword to face tip down a moment Sofia also asked, "All these positions I've been practicing, any way you can show me the practical aspects of what I'm doing? It's easier for me to understand the movements." not that she was asking for a sparring match because she most certainly would lose but she wanted to see where all these movements were taking her. Plus the idea of seeing him in actual action with the sword does excite her some Sofia wasn't going to lie.



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Remy LeBeau
 Posted: Feb 10 2017, 05:34 PM
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It was a relief to have a student who was willing to do as instructed in order to better learn. Oh, Sofia obviously watched Game of Thrones, and understood that he was in part jesting, but also that he was showing her that he would have a reason for whatever he asked her to do, no matter what it was. Even catching cats.

In fact, his first instructions were for exercise and dancing, and she was perfectly happy to agree to do both. He chuckled when she clarified and nodded that he understood. ”Bon.” That she might not realize that ‘bon’ was French for ‘good’ didn’t occur to Remy; he didn’t even realize that he was using a foreign word, it was so familiar to him. ”Start wit’ jus’ resistance. Et es no de point t’wear yo’ out. Jus’ t’make de swordwork easier fo’ yo’.” Once again, he perfected her stance, correcting the small things that weren’t exactly right. Yes, it was persnickety, but for a reason - she needed to learn to come back to the proper position, and if he let her fail to do that now, when she was learning, she would never quite have it exactly right. And that would put her ability to act and react, to attack and defend, to parry and thrust, all off.

”I can.” but he hadn’t danced in a long time. He hadn’t felt the need, he hadn’t felt anything to dance about. ”Dancing es t’celebrate, though, petite, an’ I have no had anyt’ing t’celebrate recently. So et has been a while since I have danced.” he punctuated the statement with a shrug; no, he hadn’t needed to tell her that, but why not? It wasn’t a secret that his life had been tumultuous lately. That he’d lost one daughter to memory loss and perhaps was losing another to the darkness in her heart….

She asked about his family and Remy gave a slight hesitation. ”Frere es French for ‘brother’. Pere es French for ‘father’.” He shifted, not in discomfort, but rather growing much more serious, ”So oiu, Pere es important.” he gave her a smile, genuine, it even reached his eyes this time, ”Family es very important, petite.”

She asked him to show her the practical application for what she’d done, and he nodded, ”Attack me, den, petite. I will show yo’.” he held his own sword out, in the stance he’d shown her, letting her attack him. It was human nature, without training, to attack someone in the torso; it was the largest part of the body, and thus offered the best chance of scoring a hit. It was also where the organs were located, and thus a good place to hit in order to slow the target down. But Remy was also a trained swordsman, so he was in essence ready for anything. Still, he intended to show Sofia exactly what she was training for.

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