fandomtownies | Wellspring Arms: Monday

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Zack wasn't a troublesome customer! Zack was a hyperactive kid with a sword who, on top of all of that, was still riding a sugar high. And as such, he practically bounced his way into the Wellspring.

"Hi, Worf!"

"Zack," Worf replied gruffly and... perhaps boggling at the enthusiasm. "You remembered our sparring match. Good."

Zack's enthusiasm existed to be boggled at. It was entirely possible that it was there so that people wouldn't notice the rest. Really.

"What, you'd think I'd forget? I want to see that bat'leth of yours in action!"

"Very well," Worf said with a tug on his cadet uniform. "Let us go to the meditation area and we shall begin."

"Awesome!" Zack was... pretty much bouncing his way there, too. Yes.

This was going to be an interesting match.

Worf let out a little sigh as he followed Zack.

Sparring was not meant to be awesome. It was an opportunity to display one skills and hone one's reflexes.

~~In short? To be awesome~~

These two totally existed in different paragraphs on the same page, didn't they?

Zack finished bouncing about the same time he was inside the meditation room, turning around to face Worf with an excited little smile.

"Do you spar against swords like this often?"

"Nothing so... large," Worf commented as he pulled out his bat'leth.

It was a good thing Worf didn't have a sense of humor otherwise someone would be making a joke size and "compensation".

Compensation nothing! Worf's bat'leth had how many prongs on it? It was slightly more than bifurcated!

Zack nodded pulled his sword from his back.

"SOLDIER sword are pretty big compared to what most people around here use," he noted. "I guess, to even it out, I haven't even seen a weapon like yours before today."

"It is an ancient weapon of my people," Worf replied holding his bat'leth proudly. "It is said that to have been created when one of our legendary heroes pulled out lock of his hair and plunged it into a lava pit, forging it into this type of weapon. It is called a bat'leth and in my language it means sword of honor."

"Honor, huh?" Zack looked at the blade with no small amount of appreciation, at that. "Honor's a pretty big deal, where you're from?"

He gave his sword a twirl, settling into the feel of its weight in his hand.

"It is for SOLDIERs, too."

"A warrior without honor is nothing in my world," Worf said putting himself into an attack stance. "It is good to know that others follow the same example."

"Well," Zack reasoned, "what do you have, if you don't have any honor? There wouldn't be anything to fight for, really. Greed, maybe, but that's pretty shallow."

And then he was running at Worf, that smile ever-present in his expression, even as he swung out his sword toward him.

Worf quickly moved his bat'leth up to block the sword, surprised at how fast Zack was able to attack with it. "Very shallow," he agreed and launched a counterattack towards Zack's upper torso.

A counterattack that Zack managed to... well, to counter! His smile broadened a little at the sound of metal against metal, and then he jumped backward, so that he could get out of the range of Worf's weapon while still having decent reach with his sword. Another attack, then, aimed at Worf's guts.

Worf had to drop to the floor and roll to avoid getting hit by Zack's giant sword. The move cost him time so he stood up and went into a defensive posture as he waited for Zack's next attack.

Which Zack was incoming with, right about now! This time, it was a run to bring his blade downward toward Worf, which, yes, left his own body wide open. But where was the fun in actually paying attention to things like that?

... This would be why Arthur always kept kicking Zack's butt when their matches came down to a battle of stratgey, yes.

Worf quickly lashed out towards Zack's body with the bat'leth, hoping to take advantage of said opening.

Not a literal opening of course because that would sound gross.

Quadfurcated bat'leth!

"Nngh!" That would be Zack's version of a protest to having a pointy thing raking across his chest, even if he did step back a little to avoid the worst of it.

He was so not to be deterred, here, though. His sword switched directions abruptly while Worf's weapon was still extended, and now it was swinging down at the Klingon's shoulder.

The problem with dealing with a weapon with such extended reach is that simply backing out of range is next to impossible.

He managed to pull back far enough that he only got tagged in the shoulder.

And that's when he started smiling

Yes. Worf was having fun. He immediately charged back at Zack trying a slashing attack at his legs.

... That was possibly the most terrifying and awesome smile that Zack had ever seen.

This would someday change. But for now, that was the most terrifying and awesome smile that Zack had ever seen, yes. And it was only going to serve to encourage him, as Zack flashed him a cocky smile of his own before not just moving out of the way of that attack, but jumping out of the way of it, off to the side where he could hopefully get around to swing his sword at Worf's hip, next.

Worf managed to get his bat'leth up just in time to block the attack and ended up using both hands to do it. He then attempt to shove Zack back, pushing against his sword.

Zack, in turn, planted his feet as firmly as he could against the floor, gritting his teeth and shoving back.

"You're pretty strong," he noted, his shoulders straining a little with the effort. Which was actually pretty cool. Zack hadn't met his match for strength in a swordfight since he'd gotten here, really.

"As are you," Worf growled as he tied to push down on Zack's blade in an attempt to knock it from his grasp. "Impressive."

If there was any one thing that was an absolute certainty in Zack's life, it was the fact that once he had his sword in both hands, he was not about to let go any time in the near future.

He gave a little grunt, either at the added pressure on his blade or in acknowledgement of the compliment he'd just been given, and then he pushed up harder against Worf's bat'leth.

Perhaps right about now, how Zack managed to keep breaking his swords in practise might be put at least slightly into perspective?

Slightly into perspective.

Of course Worf wasn't about to back down from a test of strength. Nope. He was just going to grunt back and try to put all his weight and force against Zack's sword.

Klingons are a stubborn bunch that way.

So were Zacks!

So, maybe it was a little silly of Zack to ignore the warning signs of a blade starting to give way under pressure. Under all of Worf's weight and force, Zack did the one thing he could do! He shut his eyes and clenched his jaw, and he shoved back harder.

And then there were bits of broken sword scattering about, while Zack found himself almost staggering directly into the business end of Worf's blade. A quick drop to the floor, at least, kept him from being eviscerated. It would kind of suck to have to pick up his guts and hold them inside the day after his birthday, after all.

"Must be the swords," Zack decided, from where he was now sprawled out on the floor.

Worf stumbled and managed NOT to fall to the ground. Or on top of Zack.

"Perhaps," Worf said looking at the shattered remains of the sword in the meditation room. "The manufacturer of your weapons needs to be audited."

"No kidding," Zack sighed as he rolled over and then pulled himself to his feet. He examined what was left of his blade past the hilt. And he sighed.

"At least it never takes ShinRa long to replace broken weaponry. I'll have a new one in time for class on Thursday."

But still. In the meantime, his sword was all... stubby.

"Perhaps you should find a sword of a different manufacturer," Worf suggested.

"Maybe just for use around here," Zack mused, putting what was left of his sword onto his back before scouting around for broken sword pieces. It wouldn't do to have someone try to meditate, just to end up with sword shards up the butt. "On the job, I have to use SOLDIER-issue weaponry until I get a promotion to 1st Class."

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Wellspring Arms: Monday

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Meditate

Shooting Range

OOC