Ghanima Atreides (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
atreideslioness) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2009-06-27 09:41 am
atreideslioness) wrote in fandomtownies2009-06-27 09:41 am
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Serenity Cove, Early Saturday Morning
The sunlight was dancing on the ocean when Ghanima arrived at the Cove, weapons bag flung over her shoulder. Beautiful. She was still a desert creature, but she could at least appreciate the waves.
Bag tossed onto the sand, she carefully selected two bladed disks, weighing them carefully in her hands before hurling them into the air where they separated into eleven spinning weapons.
Ghanima grinned sharply, dropping into a combat stance as they began to circle her, looking for an opening. She was in the mood for a fight.
[Open cove is open! Ghani's 'spinning discs of death' can be seen in the first 1:30 here]
Bag tossed onto the sand, she carefully selected two bladed disks, weighing them carefully in her hands before hurling them into the air where they separated into eleven spinning weapons.
Ghanima grinned sharply, dropping into a combat stance as they began to circle her, looking for an opening. She was in the mood for a fight.
[Open cove is open! Ghani's 'spinning discs of death' can be seen in the first 1:30 here]
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That was a stupid question.
Reno already had his baton in hand, on his shoulder, and was grinning a lopsided sort of grin as he watched the discs take to the air. It had been entirely too damn long since he'd been up with the sunrise for training, and Ghanima was pretty much where he'd figured she was going to be.
He spotted an opening himself, and, full and without any warning at all, he moved, and he took it. Kind of a how-do-you-do, good to be back without the words, maybe. Sparks flew from his baton as it clashed against the nearest disc.
Maybe they were going to need to pull some more out, today?
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She flipped away from the weapon attacking from the side, kicking up a spray of sand to confuse its sensors as she picked up her Kama. If they wanted to add more, then they needed to deactivate these, first, so Ghanima could reset them.
"Your arms are sloppy, watch your form."
That was 'good morning'.
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That said, he straightened up, pulling the arm in that wasn't holding his weapon, and made a point to actually focus. Another disc zoomed in close and fast, and Reno went into a roll to avoid it, slamming the end of his baton downward into another in the process.
Hell yeah.
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Honestly, her lupi was bright enough, even if he did lack patience at times. He should be able to train on his own.
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"Will do," he agreed, on his feet again before another disc could get the chance to cleave his arm off. He liked that arm. He used it for... many things. The sorts of things that involved arms, generally. "S'been... hectic, out there."
That was the best way Reno really had at the moment to admit that home wasn't exactly what he'd expected. And maybe that he missed it here.
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He needed the practice.
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He twisted sideways, simply avoiding one of the discs while his baton swung upward again to send the other careening off-course into one of its little friends. And then he turned to face the first one as it corrected itself and came around for a second chance, earning itself a knock from his baton to send it back toward Ghanima.
Full-contact extreme tennis. Hell yeah.
"I got some plants to grow," he noted. Because that seemed like the most solid footing he'd managed to grab, lately, and he wanted to share. "Beans."
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Adapting. Setting down roots and turning their faces towards what sunlight they could find. No so different from people, in that manner.
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The cacti were doing just fine. The beans, he was worried about.
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"Never actually heard of cress before, yoto." And this was because he had grown up eating handouts and scraps, and then had just stopped paying attention to what he was fed as a Turk, because just being able to eat had been more than enough. Why take note of what the herbs were? "I started the beans in wet paper towel. The cress anything like that?"
Casual gardening conversation and flying pinwheels of death. Good times.
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"It's an herb, often used in salads and for flavoring things," she said. "A wet towel, and they're fully grown in a few days."
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At least Reno had the not dying by spinning disc thing down pat. All this vegetation stuff was weird and new, so it was going to take a little more work for him to master.
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It wouldn't be a five-course meal, but it was a renewable resource that could grow fast enough to prevent immediate starvation, and from what she understood, that was what Reno needed.
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"Faster, Reno. And stop slouching." Not that he necessarily was, but it was good to keep him on his guard.
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He picked up his pace obediently regardless, though he'd already slipped out of his usual slouch a little while before. It was almost like riding a bike, that way. A flying, spinny bike that would cut his head off if he got sloppy.
He was down to his last few, knocking one out of the way as it careened toward him, and then stepping backward to avoid the next. He could play with them for a while longer, or he could just end it, so that they could get along with whatever else the morning called for. Two were easy, after all.
When the first swung back around, he swung with it, knocking it downward into the sand. The other was sent to join it shortly after, pummelled downward into it with a neat sweep of the baton. Both of them remained put.
"An' can I slouch now?"
It was a Reno thing.
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"I'm assuming you're back for the event tonight, and not just to pick up new plants and brush up on your training?"
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"Got the invite earlier this week," he confirmed. "Figured it'd be crazy to turn it down, yo. But while I was here, I thought it'd be nice to brush up an' restock a little."
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Most people, when they'd grown up, had that one teacher that they could look back on as an adult and say, 'wow, this person helped to shape who I ultimately became, and I can't possibly thank them enough.'
Reno's equivalent was Ghanima. And someday, when he was ... as grown up as Reno was ever going to get, he'd look back and go, 'yeah. That woman's the reason I ain't dead yet.'
"Wouldn't mind in the least," he decided. Because damn, he'd missed this. And he was planning on being at the fight club regardless.
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Therefore, beach. Try to think.
And stop, impressed as all hell, at the demonstration down the strand.
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She acknowledged her with a brief nod of her head before continuing. She'd speed up and take down the rest of the blades if her audience wandered closer, just for safety, but for now she was enjoying the workout.
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She could come back here, she supposed. Find some part-time job and stay-- but that didn't sit right with her, either. She couldn't teach, what the hell did she know? And what, work at Mooby? No. There had to be another plan. For now, she distracted herself with the other woman's practice, wishing she could match her for speed and dexterity.
After over a quarter hour, she got up to wander closer. "You're extremely good at that. Are you a teacher here, or a resident?"
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"Thank you. If I wasn't, my teachers would have a few words for me," she said, dusting off her hands on her tunic and holding one out. "Ghanima Atreides, professor of history, tactics, and esoteric studies at the school."
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"As for Irulan... she's here, you know." Ghani's eyes danced with mirth. "She's opened a hat shop in town."
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