[ Even if it's not meant to be flattery, Connor's compliment brings heat to Arenvald's face – but thankfully, it's indistinguishable from the way he's already flushed from exertion. ]
I, ah. Thank you.
[ Nailed it. ]
I suppose I didn't particularly set out to show off, but I might have gone a little more all-out than usual.
[It's an easy admission. Connor takes pride in his own skills, though they might not exactly revolve around swordplay -- quick analytical thinking, detective work, and problem-solving, on the other hand... well. If he were placed in front of something requiring these talents, before Arenvald, he'd want to impress him, too.
That streak of his, always looking for approval. Never something so easily quelled nor ignored.]
I'd like to learn how to utilize a sword as effectively as you do, sometime. It might not be a practical skill for me to have back in Detroit, but there's no telling what kind of worlds we might where it would be advantageous otherwise.
[ That doesn't necessarily surprise him, since Connor is always eager to please, but the admission still makes him feel a bit better. Arenvald isn't prone to showing off, but Connor is one person he always wants to impress. ]
I could try to teach you, if you'd like.
Edited (when u notice a typo hours later) 2018-11-23 23:23 (UTC)
[Arenvald is so obviously skilled. And he has disposition of a man who would make for a good teacher; and Connor, he knows himself to be a fast learner by design.]
[ He pauses to take another drink from his canteen - in part because he actually needs it, in part because he needs a moment to work up the courage to offer, ]
[Now! That sounds... well, it sounds like something he'd like to do, given the eagerness of body language Arenvald might be able to parse. Connor is more than willing to watch patiently, quietly, observing. But a part of him -- the side that always wants to be active, to do something, to not feel like he's in some perpetual standby -- forces him to stand to his feet and take a step forward.
Pebbles crunch faintly under shoes, and he gestures to a rack of practice weapons nearby.]
Maybe with blunt, wooden weapons? Just to start.
[Confident in his melee skills, just as confident in his speed, Connor won't start with something sharp and heavy to wield. Not when he's unaccustomed to the talent, still; accidental cuts as a result of inexperience are a little harder to deal with when you're an android.]
[ Arenvald sets his canteen aside, rising from his seat to follow Connor towards the rack of practice weapons. ]
Yeah. I don't expect you to start wielding an actual blade on the first go.
[ He comes up next to his friend, hands on his hips as he surveys the rack of weapons before them. Swords are in no short supply, thankfully, and he selects one similar in size to the blade he usually wields. This, he offers to Connor. ]
[He takes the "blade" by its hilt, turning it over in his hands. His mind immediately takes into account the distributed weight by observation alone, and while he can't garner the same amount of information by scanning it, Connor can still rely upon memory and flashes of intuition to serve him well.]
No. Not at all.
[It's decently-sized, but not heavy. His strength is more than what one might expect from a human his own size, so this is wielded easily enough.]
How do we begin? With stances, correct?
[He's done this once with Lucina, though the combat was not at all weapons-oriented.]
[He is a sturdy beanpole! A fast beanpole! A terminator beanpole! Don't underestimate your android friend, friend.]
Efficiency versus flourish. You can guess at which I find more important, Arenvald.
[He gives him a little tug of a smile before he settles into something a little more serious, face falling into that android placidness. It's easy enough to observe and to mimic; qualities that haven't been watered down despite the majority of his functions being disabled in this place.
And so Connor settles into a similar ready stance, easy as you please.]
Well, if you ever decide you want some flourish, talk to Alisaie. She’s a deft hand with a rapier.
[ #justredmagethings
He lets his posture relax, stowing his blade away as he observes Connor’s impersonation of his stance. He has to think back to those early days in the Waking Sands, a melancholy sort of fondness settling in his chest as he recalls A’aba’s attempts to make a proper fighter out of him. Arenvald doesn’t share in his friend’s gruff, no-nonsense attitude, so no doubt his methods of teaching will be a bit different. So long as the lesson is properly learned, right? ]
It’s a bit uncanny, the way you do that.
[ Said with a light chuckle. Still, as good an imitation as it is, it’s not quite right, and he steps forward, resting a hand on Connor’s sword arm to adjust it some. ]
You don’t have a shield like I do, so it’ll be a bit different for you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I, ah. Thank you.
[ Nailed it. ]
I suppose I didn't particularly set out to show off, but I might have gone a little more all-out than usual.
no subject
[It's an easy admission. Connor takes pride in his own skills, though they might not exactly revolve around swordplay -- quick analytical thinking, detective work, and problem-solving, on the other hand... well. If he were placed in front of something requiring these talents, before Arenvald, he'd want to impress him, too.
That streak of his, always looking for approval. Never something so easily quelled nor ignored.]
I'd like to learn how to utilize a sword as effectively as you do, sometime. It might not be a practical skill for me to have back in Detroit, but there's no telling what kind of worlds we might where it would be advantageous otherwise.
no subject
I could try to teach you, if you'd like.
no subject
I think I'd like that. If you're amenable to it.
[Arenvald is so obviously skilled. And he has disposition of a man who would make for a good teacher; and Connor, he knows himself to be a fast learner by design.]
no subject
[ He pauses to take another drink from his canteen - in part because he actually needs it, in part because he needs a moment to work up the courage to offer, ]
We could start now.
no subject
[Now! That sounds... well, it sounds like something he'd like to do, given the eagerness of body language Arenvald might be able to parse. Connor is more than willing to watch patiently, quietly, observing. But a part of him -- the side that always wants to be active, to do something, to not feel like he's in some perpetual standby -- forces him to stand to his feet and take a step forward.
Pebbles crunch faintly under shoes, and he gestures to a rack of practice weapons nearby.]
Maybe with blunt, wooden weapons? Just to start.
[Confident in his melee skills, just as confident in his speed, Connor won't start with something sharp and heavy to wield. Not when he's unaccustomed to the talent, still; accidental cuts as a result of inexperience are a little harder to deal with when you're an android.]
no subject
Yeah. I don't expect you to start wielding an actual blade on the first go.
[ He comes up next to his friend, hands on his hips as he surveys the rack of weapons before them. Swords are in no short supply, thankfully, and he selects one similar in size to the blade he usually wields. This, he offers to Connor. ]
Here. Not too heavy, I hope.
no subject
No. Not at all.
[It's decently-sized, but not heavy. His strength is more than what one might expect from a human his own size, so this is wielded easily enough.]
How do we begin? With stances, correct?
[He's done this once with Lucina, though the combat was not at all weapons-oriented.]
no subject
Aye. I'll warn you again that my style isn't anything terribly refined but in a scrap, it'll serve you well enough.
[ He draws his own blade, moving to stand in front of Connor to demonstrate. It's old habit by now, the way he slips into his ready stance. ]
This is where I start, usually.
no subject
Efficiency versus flourish. You can guess at which I find more important, Arenvald.
[He gives him a little tug of a smile before he settles into something a little more serious, face falling into that android placidness. It's easy enough to observe and to mimic; qualities that haven't been watered down despite the majority of his functions being disabled in this place.
And so Connor settles into a similar ready stance, easy as you please.]
no subject
[ #justredmagethings
He lets his posture relax, stowing his blade away as he observes Connor’s impersonation of his stance. He has to think back to those early days in the Waking Sands, a melancholy sort of fondness settling in his chest as he recalls A’aba’s attempts to make a proper fighter out of him. Arenvald doesn’t share in his friend’s gruff, no-nonsense attitude, so no doubt his methods of teaching will be a bit different. So long as the lesson is properly learned, right? ]
It’s a bit uncanny, the way you do that.
[ Said with a light chuckle. Still, as good an imitation as it is, it’s not quite right, and he steps forward, resting a hand on Connor’s sword arm to adjust it some. ]
You don’t have a shield like I do, so it’ll be a bit different for you.