[paris] sword up, armor down [yordan]

"Again," Rumjana said in a huff of breath as she stepped back out of her fighting stance, but kept her sword up. Her short hair was tied up into a ponytail at the top of her head, but some of her shorter hair near the nape of her neck had fallen out of its binding. She was wearing all black, light weight clothing that she often wore when she went out for her long runs.

She was visiting her brother Yordan at his place in Paris and she had somehow convinced him to spar with her. It was a little before midday and the sun was high in the Parisian sky. The sword in her hand was familiar after they had been facing off against one another for the past half hour or so and she would never admit it, but the sword was getting a little heavy. She pushed that thought aside though and instead nodded to her brother, wanting another match. The Klyk was improving under her brother's tutelage, but she was also very outmatched in skill, considering it seemed that Yordan had been born with a sword in his hand. It was that natural for him. She was envious of that kind of skill. Rumjana wanted to pick up every nuance, every trick he used when he sparred.

The dark-haired girl could feel the sweat trickling down the center of her back as she lifted her sword and side stepped around her brother. "Ready?" she asked just before she grinned and moved in, swiping her sword up and to the side.

@Yordan Kalishnikov

The sword in his hand was lowered just a bit as he watched Rumjana gather herself for their next round. He eyed her for a moment as he shifted his weight on the balls of his feet. The light breeze felt good against the exposed skin of his arms, cooling him despite the sun happy display in the sky. A strong wrist twirled, the length of his sword followed suit, before his shoulders rolled. He had to be honest, Rumjana was catching on faster then he had thought. It seemed that the more they sparred the better she got. At first it was the small things the man noticed. Her stance changed, became more confident. She held the sword in her hand as if the weight was becoming something she was used too.

What she lacked in the beginning of their training she made up for with her speed and quick thinking. Yordan found himself always impressed by the end of their sessions. Today was no different. He was exhausted, his muscles ached and he would love to take a break. Her determination was motivation enough for him. His body shifted back nearly a moment too late as the tip of her blade threaten to cut him. As if a natural part of his day his sword was lifted to hit Rumania’s sword before his body shifted forward to push the girl back. “Good. Now, don’t forget to shift your weight.” His deep voice cut through the otherwise silent are like a gunshot in the night.

He wasted no time lifting his sword as his stance changed. He couldn’t allow himself to be caught off guard again, there would be time for thinking later. The former Krov’s left foot slide back as his body angled more to the side, giving him better control as his free hand moved to rest on the small of his back. “You have the speed but I ultimately have the strength.” He moved to circle her. “The bad thing about having strength is what?” He ask as he lunged forward, lifting his sword to being it down with force as if to demonstrate the answer he was hoping for. Her speed and his strength gave her the true advantage. Even though he was strong that weight he carried to make as such could be used against him, it was a weakness in these sessions he picked up on instantly but she hoped that their first lesson stuck with her.

Never underestimate an opponent, no matter how high the advantage.

Rumjana nodded swiftly at her brother's correction, focusing on correcting her stance and shifting her weight as he said even as she silently berated herself for forgetting to do it. She knew she was a quick study, but the Klyk was always expecting more of herself. More in general. She had to be better. It was one of the cornerstones she lived by. Mediocrity was not acceptable. She wasn't sure how much her brother realized she was a perfectionist, but she appreciated him not giving up on her so far. She had never thought she would be as close to Yordan as they seemed now. He didn't seem much like an uncle as he did when she was a few years younger. Rumya was still getting used to this idea of 'family' and what it really meant to be close to the people you belonged to.

Her thoughts were tied up in the family ideal that she didn't notice as quick as she might have that his stance had changed. She was reacting now instead of anticipating so she was behind, late in her change of stance. Her green eyes tracked her older brother as he circled her. His lunge almost caught her by surprise. Almost. He was right. She did have speed over him and she used it right then to avoid his attack, moving out of his range and then coming back at him from the side. "It can be used against you," she answered, her breathing hard with the exertion of their exercise.

She danced away from him so that he wouldn't get the opportunity to use that strength against her, but she left herself grin. A flash of teeth where there had only been focus and determination before. The first time she had probably showed any emotion since they had started. "You're a much better teacher than the professors at school," she told him matter-of-factly. "None of the other students are even worth sparring against."

"Good." He commented as she changed her stance. "Let's work on it being more natural for you, you want to just drop into the stance." She was the quickest study he had met. Yordan had spent most of his life learning, striving to be better then his brother in every way possible. It was along that journey that he realized his calling. Weapons had always fascinated him, but to make his own. To craft a sword he could hold was something more precious to the man. He was happy to share this with his sister. Even more so that their relationship was something more then it had been while they lived under the same roof. It was sad how it took his leaving to show him how special she was to him. Yordan wanted the best for Rumjana.

He could tell she wasn't prepared, blue eyes watching as her stance changed a moment too late. Despite her not being fully prepared she was still able to dodge him. He smiled to himself  but only from a fraction of a second before his body moved. He was too slow to react with his sword, having used most of his strength in the missed attack. His jaw clenched as he blade came too close for his own comfort, grazing the skin of his ribs as he shifted away. Before he could react she was away from him. "Good use of your speed." He gave her a nod, touching his side with his fingertips to check for blood. "Nice and light on your feet, don't forget that." He nodded again because she has improved so much. She was able to move better and handle the sword better.

He gave a chuckle. "Well, thank you. I think it's because I'm not nursing you as if you're fragile." He laugh, twirling the sword in his hand with a flick of the wrist. "Well, maybe you can teach them the proper way one day." As always, until she said didn't need him to, his sword rose to allow herself time to prepare for his attack. "Remember that your quickness can also be a weakness. You don't want to move to fast and get caught up or worse yet move without thinking." It was like a game of chess only these moves could draw blood. He wanted her to know that the sword in her hand was an extension of herself. It had to feel as if it were apart of her otherwise it could result in her being hurt. "Ready?" His brows raised before he lunged forward with a thrust of his sword that cut up then across. It was time to work on her defense because he was noticing that he offense was rather good.

She nodded once more at his instruction. Natural. Easy as breathing. She wanted that. Rumjana wasn't sure why or when she had become so committed to sword fighting, but it was an obsession as of late. And with any of her passions, she was determined to master it. She wanted it so badly she could taste it. It was just there beyond her reach and she was impatient even though she knew she was making progress. It still wasn't enough, it wasn't ever enough. The Bulgarian again adjusted her stance, trying to feel it in every fiber of her body so that it became natural. The muscle memory was almost there, she could feel it, but not quite yet.

Rumjana felt a small bout of triumph when she was able to sneak in past Yordan's defenses, but her smile dropped off her face suddenly when his hand when to his ribs as if to check for injury. She wanted to win, wanted to get better, but the thought of Yordan being injured wasn't her aim. It wasn't exactly the injury she feared because she knew a simple healing charm could make him brand new. The sight of blood, however... it almost made her want to put her sword away now and stop practice. No, she told herself, straightening her spine in face of her doubt. She wasn't giving up just because a little blood made her uneasy.

He took her statement of fact as a compliment and it almost made a burn of blush appear on her cheeks. Rumjana wasn't the kind of girl who praised anyone. It was just the truth. Nevertheless, she thought she liked the sound of his chuckle. It made her almost smile as she watched him twirl his sword in a flash of silver. "Ha! As if I would waste time on them. I'm already basically teaching my whole quidditch team how to play the game and a Koldovstoretz transfer who didn't know anything about quidditch when he first came," Rumjana scoffed and rolled her eyes as she told her brother of Zviad. The thought of him made her shake his head. "He's such an idiot," she told her brother as she thought of him more.

She was frowning as she remembered her 'quidditch practices' with the Koldo student and how.. unsettled? he made her feel. The memory of that icky feeling trickled through her and her green eyes cut across to her brother as he said Ready?. No, she wasn't, but she wasn't about to back down either. She moved as quick as she could and brought her sword up, the heft of it weighing down on her arm muscles. She didn't have the time to back up like she might have wanted to, giving her room on the defense, but she met his sword with the edge of her own, blocking his with a two hard parry. She knew his strength would win over her own so she side stepped and back, holding up her sword defensively, trying to track his next movement.

Better, much better. He thought as he watched her adjust her stance. It seemed more natural now. She was a good study, he wondered about how well she did in school. It was hard to thin that she was doing badly, with how quickly she had learned in their time together. She spoke of Quidditch, a game he himself was never truly fond of. Blond hair shifted as his head tilted. "That has to be stressful, teaching so many to play properly." His brows came together as he noted how she slacked in her stance as she spoke. This boy, this person, she taught had taken her focus. That would require more questioning, this much he knew. He had spoke to her about never losing that focus she had no matter what was happening around her. It was a lesson she would learn the hard way.

She was too close to mount a real defense but she was able to block his blow. "And this idiot, is he your boyfriend?" He asked as he moved in to attack again, this time from the side. The flash of sliver from his blade moved as if it was  a part of the air. He wanted her to remember, forever, how deadly it could be to forget to always have her guard up. He didn't pause as he stepped forward bringing his sword up and across before he moved swiftly to step to his right, light on his feet. He lunged once more sword moving straight for his sister. "What is the first rule, Rumjana." He asked as he stepped back, sword still lifted in case she wanted to show him that she wasn't out of focus.

"I don't have to tell you that your focus matters. The speed you have will mean nothing if your head isn't in what you are doing..." He wanted her to be the best but he wanted her to be safe while doing it. "What is this...idiot's name anyway. I think I should at least know who has you so...uncontrolled.."

The dark-haired girl hummed a non-committal response. Stressful? Not exactly. She just had high expectations and what she considered to be a not so talented pool of students to pull from. She did her best with what she had and she felt like she hadn't failed completely as of yet. But she always wanted more. Even as the weight of the sword pulled at her arms, she wondered what new talent she might be able to find for this year's team and if Zviad would be good enough to make the cut. Or if he would even be around at all considering she had just heard the news that Koldovstoretz would be re-opening its doors this term and many of the former merge students would be leaving for good.

His question was like throwing a cold bucket of ice on her. "My what?" she hissed at him, a split second before his sword came flashing at her once more. This time, she could only move instinctively enough so that she wouldn't die by his sword edge while she was still reeling from his comment. Rumjana was angry. Angry with him for thinking such a think, angry with herself for letting it affect her so much, angry in general because even the idea of dating Zviad, or anyone, for that matter made her blood boil. Relationships meant you were dependent on someone else and Rumjana never wanted to be dependent on anyone for anything. Ever. "No, he isn't," she gritted through her teeth as she tried to duck and dodge and defend herself.

In some part of her mind, she knew he was pressuring her to be better and in any normal situation, she would have appreciated that. But now as he reminded her of the first rule like she was a naive, stupid little first year, her green eyes glared up at him from behind her blade. Her eyes were green fire, matching the flames she felt in her blood. "His name doesn't matter," she tried to tell him coolly, but her voice shook without her permission. "And he doesn't have me uncontrolled," Rumjana said, just before going on the offense, bringing her sword up and in, her anger fueling her movements faster as if to prove to her brother that she was affected by mere mention of the blue with piercing blue eyes.

He couldn't say anything about her focus now, could he? She was all anger and ire and sharp sword edges. So sharp in fact that she didn't realize until a few moments later that there was red blooming underneath the shirt across her brother's arm. Blood, bright and red and making dots appear in her vision. Her sword hung limply at her side as she blanched. She hadn't mean to do that. Rumjana took a step back, unable to look away from the sight of the blood even though she desperately wanted to.

He could tell by the slight edge in her voice that he had hit a nerve asking about this unknown boy she spent time with in school. It made his brows come together and his mind filled with curiosity.  Had he been right to think that his sister, his baby sister, had grown up enough to have a boyfriend? Suddenly he was quite concerned by the prospect of this, nearly missing her next hissed statement. His mind eased but still he wondered why she had gotten so angry. Had she displayed a like for this boy and he refused her or was it the other way around? Had they ended on sore terms? Would he need to speak to this boy about the proper treatment of his sister?

If looks could kill the Bulgarian knew he would certainly be dead. The green of her eyes bore through his, nearly shaking him to his core before she spoke once more, her voice betraying her usually calm demeanor. He had pushed too far, he should have left it alone but it would have bugged him. He’d missed so much of her life, so fixated on being better then the golden boy. He felt that asking of her personal life was something he hadn’t earned, a given privilege she hadn’t actually given.  His sword rose too late and he felt the heat of her blade across his arm. Yordan paused, blinking several times, as he came back into their training area. He’d allowed his thoughts to take him from where his mind needed to be.

He replayed it all in his head again. He attacked and hadn’t been expecting her speed or attack for that matter. His mind had drifted and he had allowing his sword to drop to low to be good defensively.  Once more he repeated the events over in a matter of seconds. “You’re getting faster.” He praised as his arm stung a bit from the fabric of his shirt, which had went from a few simple spots of blood to a neat read line across him arm. He could feel the warm liquid sliding down the length of his arm and it caused his fingers to wiggle in response. “I’m sure it’s not too deep, we can…”

He didn’t look down at his arm because the color drained from her face and instantly he was worried. The finely polished blade dropped to the grass with a soft  thud before he was moving forward, hands raised as if not to scare her away; the blood now sliding down a different path on the palm of his left hand as he did so. “You don’t look so good…maybe you should sit...” He leaned to reach with his right hand to grasp the sword held limply in her hand. His eyes dropped to his arm and he frowned turning from her as he saw the blood there. There was more then he figured there would be and he hissed as the sleeve of his white shirt was lifted to see the neat gash.

“I apologize if I offended you before.” His deep voice was soft as he placed the palm of his right hand over his arm. “It wasn’t my place to pry…” Here he looked at her and he wanted to reach out to her but both of his hands would stain her skin with his blood. “Rumjana…” He whispered gently, the worry clear in his voice. 

[so sorry for the wait on this, let me know if changes are needed <3333]