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Post by cecile on Sept 9, 2011 12:01:37 GMT -7
somebody to speed it up for me then take it down slow there's enough room for both [/b][/color] CÉCILE INGOT[/size][/b] ====================================[/center][/color] Cecile’s eyes took in the football field, her eyes roaming over the expanse of it and taking in especially the bright green that was created by such a high sun. The weather was beautiful and Cecile though it was more than perfect for what she intended to spend her afternoon doing. She had spoken extensively with Isa about learning sword play and as a result had been getting lessons from the woman. Cecile had high respect for Isa, but that had more to do with the fact that Isa was Joan of Arc. Cecile definitely found Isa to be one of her best friends…though whether that was mutual was uncertain.
Cecile had done amazing things in her first life strategically speaking. But she hadn’t known how to use a sword to it’s fullest ability or how to use any form of hand to hand combat. She could fire a gun and hit her target just fine. And certainly she knew how to use a cannon. But those were obsolete today. Well, guns were not, but where was a fifteen year old girl going to get a gun? If she wanted to be useful to RSOR she had to learn something else. She had to find a way she could defend it with everyone else should the need arise.
And lets be honest, Cecile also had envied the males in her first life, their ability to be part of a military and to learn how to defend their home and not only learn, but be able to do it. She had crushed those thoughts in her first life, as it was not the proper place of a woman for the time. But now, she was more than able to learn and get into the military if she wanted to. And it couldn’t hurt to learn so she could if she actually decided to go through with her plans.
Cecile moved across to the middle of the field, plopping down in the grass for the time being, a wooden sword hitting the ground next to her. Cecile’s shorter dress flaring around her shorts. She had dressed light so she could move more freely but still within her personal style. She worked on removing her earrings and getting her jewelry into her bag just to be sure that she would be ready when Isa arrived. She was looking forward to another lesson…
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Post by Isabella Jillian Avadore on Sept 11, 2011 17:39:34 GMT -7
Isabella had never been one for football. It wasn't much of a sport, it was people ramming into people and see who could ram harder and move a ball to the other end. It was almost like the inverse of dodgeball, when you thought about it. Now the ball was suddenly magnetic, attracting people left, right, and center. But the field was just a field, and it would serve her purposes just fine. After all, a dorm room would hardly suffice for a lesson in swordplay. The teen carried with her a wooden sword as she made her way to the field, where Cecile was waiting. The girl had wanted to learn, and Isabella was going to show her. She wasn't the best swordsperson in Riverdale, but she'd pass on what she knew. Besides, it would be a nice way to spend and afternoon with a friend. They shared a dorm, yes, but admittedly Isabella spent more time in there with Talia. That in itself was rather funny - Cecile and Isa had much more in common - but that was how it worked out. Nothing on Cecile, of course. Isabella considered her a close friend.
After a moment of two of walking, Isabella broke into an easy jog, despite the sword in her hand. The grass was green, the sun was shining, it was best to make something of summer while it still lasted. The breeze ruffled her hair, though she barely felt it on the back of her neck, which was marred by burn scars from a roommate of hers, but she knew it was there and delighted in it, in just being alive for one more day, in God's creation. Even if she was running into a football field, and football was pretty dumb.
As she passed the marking denoting the very edges of the field, the sophomore's brown eyes picked up on a figure lying in the center of it. There was Cecile, in her telltale skirts. She had something on her legs as well, obviously, but to Isabella it made no sense. Pants were the way to go, even if you did get burned alive for wearing them sometimes. She jogged over and looked down at her friend, raising an eyebrow. "How do you expect to spar laying on the grass?" She asked, not bothering with English at all, instead reverting to French. ((But for our purposes, dialog is in English)) After all, they both knew it well, and unlike with her brother, she knew French French. Discussions with Skylar sometimes ground to a halt until languages were swapped, due to the difference in speech.
"Are you ready? Stretched? Have you jogged a little, at least? You left the dorm earlier than me, surely you're ready." There was a friendly, teasing tone to Isabella's voice, as she poked Cecile once more and got up, stretching her arms over her head, then down to her toes, not once letting go of her wooden weapon. It was time to have a little fun.
--------------------- words| 543 tagged| Cecile / Jez-E notes| None
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Post by cecile on Sept 14, 2011 12:38:07 GMT -7
somebody to speed it up for me then take it down slow there's enough room for both [/b][/color] CÉCILE INGOT[/size][/b] ====================================[/center][/color] Cecile rarely saw the football field as a football field. So many other things happened on it that we’re far more significant than football. For now she saw it as a training ground. Sometimes she saw it as a place to relax, or even run if she was in the mood. She definitely didn’t see it as a place to throw a ball around and tackle each other like idiots. Then again, she didn’t put much credence in sports that were primarily “male” sports. And let’s face it, Football was best known as a sport played by men. Cecile was a strong believer that anything a man could do a woman could do, and vice versa.
Cecile had wanted to learn how to use a sword for most of her life. Well, all of this life at least. So for now, the football field served her needs. She had been selective in a way, as to who would teach her. She was learning sword play from Joan of Arc, which was a start. She was also learning combat skills from Wang Cong’er. And if everything went as Jennah had hoped, she would learn some moves from Bruce Lee and Saladin as well. A collective knowledge from many historical individuals teaching Cecile how to fight for herself; it was like a dream.
Cecile knew that Isa spent a lot more time with Talia by comparison to time spent with Cecile, but that was quite alright. Cecile didn’t blend well with Talia and Talia seemed insistent on antagonizing Cecile. Sadly, that was a more than effective method against Cecile, causing a fair rise of temper from her. She preferred to avoid Talia if she could and Isa clearly had already established a meaningful connection with Talia that was akin to being best friends. Cecile was a big girl, she could handle that.
Cecile also knew that some of her combat teachers had mentioned (or it seemed implied) how illogical her choice of clothes could be. She didn’t see a need for pants in her training. As it was, she preferred short dresses, with leggings, and at times shorts, underneath. She wore them like shirts instead of like dresses. They were just very baggy, stylish shirts! She had reasoned that, as she would be wearing these on a regular basis, it also made sense to learn how to fight wearing them. That way, she could use her skills whenever she needed to, despite wearing her standard choice in clothes.
Seeing Joan, Cecile snapped out of her thoughts, a smile breaking across her face at the raised eyebrow on the other girl’s face. ”I figured I could roll about pathetically and make a scene and hope my prince charming comes to save me,”
[/b] she explained, clearly joking. Cecile responded in French in turn, finding it more comfortable than speaking English. She was fluent in Old France French, Quebec French and English. She was also very good with modern France French, though not as fluent as the other three. But it was always relaxing being able to speak comfortably with different people in different languages. With Isa, it was the most comfortable, as she spoke the same way she spoke natively in her first life. Cecile smiled widely as Isa mentioned whether she had stretched or jogged a bit. ”Well, I jogged from the dorm to the football field…”[/b] she said, smiling like a child who failed to do their homework. Cecile sat up, reached over and grabbed her own wooden sword and stood up, stretching down to her toes and back up again, following Isa’s example. Cecile shifted her hips side to side afterward, stretching her sides out. ”So when am I supposed to get good at this?”[/b] She asked, letting her mental guard go up, knowing that she should have been on her guard from the beginning anyways. Cecile was intent to learn though, despite her own appearance of taking it like a game. If her mind saw it as a game she learned faster. It was a natural thing with most people that they learned better if they had fun and viewing the sparring like a game helped her pick up more than she did if she thought about things too seriously. Cecile knew this about herself, and made sure she thought it was a game accordingly.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color] ==================================== [/color] •• Tag • Isabella Avadore •• •• Words • 725 •• •• Outfit • CLICK •• •• Lyrics • "4 Minutes" by Madonna ••
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Post by Isabella Jillian Avadore on Sept 17, 2011 20:21:16 GMT -7
In her past life, combat knowledge had been essential. Even before she knew how to use the sword, she had some knowledge of how to fight; she'd grown up in a town that was raped, pillaged and plundered routinely. She'd seen hoes and rakes turned into weaponry against armoured British knights and longbowmen when fleeing was not an option. Rarely were they effective, but they had been used. Nowadays, swordwork wasn't as important, but for a reincarnate, it never lost it's shine. That was what the football field was today. A training ground for eras long ago, that lived on in the souls of younger, brand-new bodies.
Isabella raised an eyebrow at Cecile's words, clearly amused. "Prince charming, coming? Why wait in the tower? It's boring there." Having been imprisoned in a tower before, Isabella could tell you it was either boring or terrifying. As for Prince Charming, well, that wasn't true. Prince Charming wasn't going to come find you, persay. Well, he kind of did, but you also kind of found him. It was a mutual thing, as was the decision between the two to speak French. It was just...easier. Much more natural to them. English was Isabella's third language, and while she was fluent, she greatly preferred the smooth, flowing language of her first life.
"Jogging is good." Isabella added when Cecile spoke. The other girl's tone was almost sheepish, which, to Isa, didn't make sense. It wasn't like she had to do any of that, but all the same, Cecile got up and started to stretch. Isa did a few arm circles herself, the summer breeze whipping her hair around. It had been about a year since she'd been lit on fire, but she still kept her hair in a little bob. She liked it better than extremely short hair, or the long locks she'd have before. It was like what she had when in combat in the past.
At Cecile's question, Isabella shrugged. "In time, don't worry." It was time to play, time to get going. Joan gave her wooden sword a twirl, then lowered her stance in a combat position. It was a pity they didn't have horses, then they could also learn mounted combat, though that was far harder. "Imitate me to start. Just briefly. Then we'll work on defence and offense." Isabella could spend a lot of time making sure that Cecile had everything solid before moving to defence and offence, but that would be boring. Instead, she'd teach the girl immersion-style. There would be basics, but briefly, and she'd learn how to use what she learned. It would be funner that way, and more practical. Making jabs at air wasn't what combat was, and it shouldn't be the main base of training in her eyes.
Adjusting her stance was the first step, and she stayed there briefly so Cecile could see what she was doing, before moving forwards. Her steps were short and concise - thus keeping her in a well-balanced position for longer. Walking was, in some ways, was merely a controlled fall; you were easier to push over and in a battle you didn't want that. She took steps backwards, then to the side, then a jump and a step, side and step, lunge, recover, and then a quick change of hands with the sword. "If you can change your hands and use either well, do so. If not, don't do it unless you must." Isabella got lucky in a way. Left handed in the first life, right handed in the next - it took a bit of getting used to, but now she could use either hand equally well, for most situations. She preferred one hand or another in differing situations - for example, while she could write with either hand, she preferred her right, and when it came to sewing, a skill of life one, her left was preferred. "Otherwise, your coordination goes." Isabella continued with a few more basic motions, before turning to face Cecile. "Do you think you have that down, at least somewhat? Or is rolling around for Prince charming a better idea?" She asked with a laugh.
---------------- words| 757 tagged| Cecile / Jez-E notes| All speech is in French.
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Post by cecile on Sept 19, 2011 16:23:10 GMT -7
somebody to speed it up for me then take it down slow there's enough room for both [/b][/color] CÉCILE INGOT[/size][/b] ====================================[/center][/color] Cecile couldn’t help the amusement written all over her face at Isa’s reaction to the Prince Charming comment. ”That’s why I am not in the tower. I figured if it was so fated he would find me no matter where I go.”
[/b] Cecile explained, smiling all the while. She couldn’t help following through with the Prince Charming excuse. It was entertaining at least. The closest thing to being imprisoned in a tower Cecile had ever been through was when she was defending her parents fort from the Iroquois. And even then she had left the tower a few times to retrieve people who would have otherwise died. She had defended it and seen it as a haven, not as a prison, so she didn’t really understand how anyone would feel with regard to the imprisoned in a tower situation. Though, she did imagine it must not be a happy feeling by any means. Cecile was relieved to see Isa didn’t find her short jog lacking. She was pretty sure the lazing around in between her own getting here and Isa’s arrival hadn’t been the greatest idea. In fact, she was positive of that. She made a note to stretch more before Isa got here. After all, Cecile was not nearly as skilled as Isa was. As she moved to stretch some more, she became more and more aware of her ponytail. Cecile preferred to have her hair hanging around her shoulders, rather than tied up behind her head. She often put her hair in a ponytail for the athletics she loved so much, and it certainly made a difference, but she found that she preferred having the curls hang around her face where she could see them so she knew they were still there. Even if the swords they were using were made of wood and her other athletic enjoyments didn’t have a means to remove her hair at all. It was quite an irrational reason either way. Cecile jumped out of her own head, and noting Joan’s movements, as the other girl lowered into a stance. Cecile found herself lowered into a stance more instinctively than by personal knowledge. She readjusted her stance to be more functional and less accidental. Cecile kept her eyes on Isa, trying to take in what the other girl was showing her. Especially because Cecile recognized the value of being able to use what she learned instead of just learning empty skills. Cecile knew that Isa and her would openly spar after this and any new skill or possible manoeuvres would improve Cecile’s chances of not being beaten as quickly. Cecile noted the stance shift, and duplicated it, having to adjust herself twice to have the exact position. Cecile mimicked the steps easily enough, when it came to the jump she got a little behind, but her mind easily pieced together what to do next from memory. Cecile followed comfortably up to the lunge and recover, before seeing Isa swap hands. Cecile didn’t swap herself, listening first to what Isa had to say. ”I’ve been trying to practice everything with both hands, but as it is, my left is still not as strong as my right. For the sake of practice should I keep trying when we spar or should I be relying on my right for now until I am able to strengthen my left more with drills and exercise?”[/b] She was referring of course to using her left more often with everyday things and training her left to handle weight better than it currently did. Cecile mimicked the motions with the appropriate hand (to Isa’s answer), and shifted back into her initial stance at the end. Hearing the other girl ask if she had it down, Cecile nodded, laughing as she replied, ”I am pretty sure Prince Charming is coming for me, but just in case he isn’t, I think I’ve got it.”[/b] She ran through it again, the stance adjustment, the steps, the jump and the lunge. She didn’t get the sequence exact, but the idea was there and only a few mistakes were made. [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color] ==================================== [/color] •• Tag • Isabella Avadore •• •• Words • 684 •• •• Outfit • CLICK •• •• Lyrics • "4 Minutes" by Madonna ••
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Post by Isabella Jillian Avadore on Sept 27, 2011 22:30:37 GMT -7
The prince charming joke was quite amusing to Isabella, and furthermore, kept the subject off prison. That had been an experience she didn't want to repeat or confront again. A few forced the truth from her - but most remained in the dark about it. Isabella was worried about that and her new roommate - one who'd be able to discern what she said in her night terrors, and Isabella feared that day. Her only chance was if Talia woke or calmed her before she said anything. But. That was a worry for another time. For now? Prince Charming jokes and swordplay. "Perhaps so, but then again, Prince Charmings are attracted to towers more than anything else. He might just sit there and wait for you." Isabella laughed, the mental image of the Prince waiting for Rapunzel in her tower amusing. What a role reversal! For some reason the Prince in the tower was a less appealing idea than the girl in it. Now, Chelsea might have her opinions to the contrary, but that was just how Isa saw it. Perhaps it was cultural? She had no idea. Not to say she found waiting in towers amusing, but if she continued to ponder it she'd go full circle and end up where she didn't want to be.
Isabella made her movements as precise and clear as she could for Cecile, knowing it would probably be easier on the other girl that way, but it was harder than you'd think. Isabella just did the motions. Not thought immensely about them. They just came. To dissect them for someone was oddly hard, and it made her appreciate those who had shown her, way back in the day, that much more. Oh, how she missed her officers and their company. Once she won them over that she was not a sex toy, if they needed to be won over, they then were pleasant, even desirable, company. La Hire in particular. He’d always been the word of reason, and indeed, one of her best friends, despite being a monster-sized ginger man. Hah. If Talia thought all French men looked effeminate, she ought to draw La Hire. But neither here nor there…
Isabella swapped hands and explained, then listened to Cecile, pausing in her actions as she did so. There was a reason for the pause more than just listening, too. A pause such as that help her arm in its place. Leave it there for long, and you’d feel the burn. The wooden swords were light, but holding them up constantly for long enough and it became training. Depending on Cecile’s arm strength, it could prove effective. For Isa, not as much (unless she found a metal one, then she’d end up working). "For now, use your better hand. Drill with your weaker one if you do desire, but there’s no point learning with your off-hand right from the get go. Your coordination will suck, and it’ll slow you down resultantly. Not with response, though that would happen too, but in progression when we both know you could go faster." Few things in the world were more annoying than that.
Isabella turned and watched Cecile when she said she had it down, laughing at the Prince Charming jokes again. "It’s always good to have a backup plan. " She agreed cheerfully. "Besides, you never know. One day Prince Charming could be kidnapped, and then what do you do?." She asked, nodding at Cecile’s motions. "That’s good for now. Let’s spar." She said, shifting into a combat stance. "You can use what you learned, or just improvise, or both. Come on, now." She said with a grin. "Attack me."
------------------ words| 618 tagged| Cecile / Jez-e notes| i sorry for the wait.
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Post by cecile on Oct 4, 2011 8:25:50 GMT -7
somebody to speed it up for me then take it down slow there's enough room for both [/b][/color] CÉCILE INGOT[/size][/b] ====================================[/center][/color] Cecile laughed with Isa, the image of prince charming sitting on a rock at her metaphorical tower, rolling the toe of his boot around in the dirt assaulted her. ”Then I guess I better learn to use a sword myself so I can go back to my tower and rescue Prince Charming,”
[/b] Cecile retorted, mock determination on her face. ”Though, not so sure I want a Prince Charming I have to save for myself. Too much work on my part, and it makes me wonder if he is just a waste of space,”[/b] Cecile added, thinking about that for a moment. Cecile ideally needed a guy who balanced her socially and could physically handle himself. Though, if she found someone else and it worked, who was she to say no. Cecile also felt that the girl in the tower just felt right. She was sure part of it was because of childhood stories of the princess saved by her prince in shining armour, or the hero desperate to find his true love, discovering a princess in an unlikely place and in need of saving. Though, she did also entertain the amusing idea of the role reversal as an awesome sequence for the tales instead. As a child, she would have rather been the princess saving Prince charming. Cecile was unaware that things for Isa were just as hard as it was for her. Learning the new moves was complex and until the body just responded in turn, Cecile would have to think about what she is doing, which meant as long as she thought, Isa had her beat. Thinking took time; time could cost you your life. Cecile understood that. Though, she didn’t consider that maybe Isa was having Cecile’s problem in reverse. Thinking about it to explain it didn’t sound that hard, so Cecile didn’t consider it at all in terms of the difficulties that would come from that. As Isa explained that she was best to stick with her current arm for now, Cecile made sure her grip was still tight on the sword and kept moving with her right hand as a result. She made a note to practice left handed extensively as well and to start working as best she can to better her left hand coordination. She also knew that wood was much lighter than metal so she would eventually start practicing with metal and adjusting for the weight of a metal sword. She trusted that her mind would tell her when she was ready for that. Cecile nodded, shifting her feet back to natural standing and shifted out into a more secure stance for sparring. So far she was still working on finding one she was comfortable with and that was effective as well. Cecile’s thoughts skimmed over what she knew already and so she paid close thought to her feet because so far her step warned of when she was going to swing. It was a habit she was warned that she needed to break, otherwise the predictability would bite her in the ass, but for now it required conscious thought. Cecile managed to shift and move forward to strike horizontally toward the belly without her usual step forward but she still did the small step forward with a second swing on a diagonal toward the shoulder. Her brain had enough time to register that she had done it, but Cecile knew that aside from turning it into a feint she had to go through with it. And at that point the strike had already descended, as her thoughts couldn’t fully keep up yet and occasionally instinct did her a favour, or in this case a harm. [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color] ==================================== [/color] •• Tag • Isabella Avadore •• •• Words • 614 •• •• Outfit • CLICK •• •• Lyrics • "4 Minutes" by Madonna ••
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