Swordplay ((Lauren Natsuki))

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Swordplay ((Lauren Natsuki)) Empty Swordplay ((Lauren Natsuki))

Post by Guest on Sun Sep 14, 2014 4:50 pm

It was a fair day. Lukas liked it when the weather was like this – not to hot and not too cold. He was fond of taking a stroll in this type of weather. He was fond of a lot of things though – so it really wasn’t saying all that much. Needless to say, it wasn’t very odd for Lukas to be wandering around in the early hours of the morning taking in the fresh air. He had a rather distinguished spring in his step recently, and it wasn’t just because his shoes were looking good today. His arrival at Camp Jupiter 2.0 had been smooth and relatively hazardous free. He was quite content in his new surroundings. Being the son of a Roman god or goddess was a pretty cool thought. A weird thought, obviously, bur he liked the idea, though he was admittedly having trouble getting to terms with the fact that it was legit. Walking down the paths in Camp Jupiter didn’t really reveal all that much about gods and goddesses though. Whilst looking at people for a while he didn’t really see anything that indicated godly parentage. They were just normal teenagers like him.

The boy enjoyed walking – and Camp Jupiter felt very impressive to walk through too. It was somewhat like stepping back in time, in a way. But he wasn’t all that used to the whole Roman thing. He’d never even studied Romans at school – he knew some of the gods, but that was about it. He was a complete newbie, but he decided that it would be a good idea to try and just go with the flow and immerse himself in this new world. Maybe people would admire him for the speed at which he transferred to Camp life. Yeah, that was a great idea.

Lukas laughed a little to himself as he swiftly diverted his walking path to pass a guy holding a rather pointy sword, this place was so strange. Swords – that was definitely the weirdest bit. Weaponry was exceptionally common here. Lukas was put on edge whenever he saw a weapon near him. He’d never wielded so much as a kitchen knife – the orphanage would never have allowed him to wield something so dangerous – so the thought of getting his hands on a sword both terrified him and thrilled him. He wanted to try it out, he wanted to slash at something, but at the same time he knew he’d be awful at it. He knew he’d probably kill himself or something because of his lack of experience. He knew he’d probably be laughed at – but he really didn’t care. Let them laugh, and if he died he died. It was a new experience – an experience worth having.

The boy had to ask around a bit before actually locating the Arena, though in full honesty Lukas associated the idea of an arena with sports . . . not fighting with weapons. He was eventually directed to where he needed to be. The Arena was a wonderful place full of people sweating, shouting and even screaming in some cases. This was going to be fun. The boy knew that it was all normal, that he was probably not going to get hurt too badly anyway – but something told him that this was probably a bad idea. He was just far too inexperienced and probably far too naive to hold a sword. That wasn’t enough to stop Lukas Blakewood though. He needed some fun in his life, after all he’d been living in an Orphanage for most of it – he needed a bit of eccentricity. He was an outgoing fellow – a sword and a dummy wasn’t going to stop him.

As Lukas picked up a sword the boy creased his brow and looked around him. It was so strange to not have anyone bat an eyelid at the fact that he was holding a sword. He couldn’t quite contemplate the whole thing, it was bizarre . . . he loved it. He swung the sword round and embarrassingly dropped it on the ground and jumped a foot in the air whilst he did so. Yeah, this was going to take some getting used to . . .

He wasn’t exactly dressed for exercise either – that was probably a bit of a mistake on Lukas’ part. He was wearing black skinny jeans – of all things. Accompanied by a white short sleeved t-shirt; just baggy enough for the gentle breeze to make it flow behind him when he walked. He should’ve worn some shorts or something – the camp T-shirt he was given too perhaps? Ah well, no one seemed to be judging him for it. Plus, even if they did he didn’t really care, he’d just tell them that he was new and be done with it.

He stepped into the arena and found himself a dummy all to himself. Gods, this was strange. He brought his sword over his head and flung it towards the dummy. The sword collided with the dummy and Lukas smirked a bit, it was a pretty good feeling – just hitting something with no real intention behind it. He was very aware of the other people around him trying their ultimate best to improve their fighting skills and become great soldiers for Rome – and he found it rather amusing more than anything else. Especially considering he was just stood there, pretty much gently slapping his sword against the dummy. He wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest.

A quick glance to his left brought a boy who was angrily slamming his sword at his dummy and huffing and puffing as he did so into Lukas’ gaze. Lukas frowned for a second and averted his gaze back to his own dummy – he didn’t need to bother with other people all that much. “Well, someone’s in a bit of a bad mood today . . .” he whispered – taking another slap at the dummy. The sword slipped across the rough surface and then the boy noticed someone approaching. He let out a quick sigh and brought the sword to his side and opened his posture. He was preparing himself for some snarky comment regarding his clothing or his hits on the dummy.

“I suppose you’re here to tell me I’m doing this wrong?” he announced playfully - gently pointing his sword towards the dummy as the figure approached him.


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Swordplay ((Lauren Natsuki)) Empty Re: Swordplay ((Lauren Natsuki))

Post by Guest on Mon Sep 15, 2014 12:08 am

Lauren usually spent her mornings avoiding training, and this morning was no exception. Her fencing classes pre-Camp had been fun, but that was before life at Camp Jupiter could distract her. In the mini New Rome area of Camp Jupiter, there were so many things that looked more fun than dancing around with swords. There were the bakeries and restaurants which sampled anything from Italian to Vietnamese. There were clothing and jewellery stores probably owned by children and legacies of Venus. There was a garden that overlooked mini New Rome and had grapevines making a canopy. There was also an antique store and bookshop situated near the garden. She had heard of how the Romans were barely able to salvage anything from the first Camp Jupiter’s ruins, but there were older demigods and legacies who donated their own collections just so they can rebuild Rome again. It was one of those times when Lauren really enjoyed being a Roman demigod and didn’t pine for the Greeks’ more individualistic ideals.

She was carrying quite a lot of shopping bags before she realized she had spent half the morning buying thrift store clothes, macarons from the patisserie, sashimi from the Japanese restaurant, two volumes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer comics, three spools of roll film for her camera and mineral makeup from a well-known stylist and designer who was apparently a son of Venus. That was when Lauren felt the guilt of avoiding training only to shop and be gluttonous. If this went on, her toned body would bid her adieu, and she’d be back to feeling sickly and depressed due to the lack of exercise. Horrified at the thought of looking and feeling sickly, she headed to the barracks as quickly as possible to leave her shopping bags there and pick up her weapons for intense training. She noted the empty barracks and paled at the thought of being made to clean the latrines again. Lauren ran to the Arena, completely forgetting how she had forgotten to change into proper training attire.

The Arena was full of demigods training, probably because of the fine weather. She looked for Ronnie, hoping she would at least be there, but there was no sight of Ronnie in the crowd. The First Cohort weren’t training together, which made Lauren sigh with relief. Missing training was one thing, but missing scheduled training with your cohort was something only masochists dared to do. Lauren saw an unused dummy and decided to head for that when someone called out to her. “Soldier. Is this an Arena or Neiman Marcus?”

Lauren looked down at her outfit and blushed.  She was wearing relatively normal clothes. She had on a lavender tank top, black skinny jeans and a pair of ankle boots with three-inch heels. The outfit was simple and very Buffy-inspired, but it certainly didn’t go with the baltei that held her gladius and pugio. Lauren looked up at the demigod who had sneered at her and smiled sweetly. ”As far as I’m concerned, soldier, I’m dressed to kill. Besides, I like testing my skills even when I’m not wearing armor. Can you fight without yours?”

Lauren flipped her hair and turned away, silently cursing the demigod who had called out to her. While she talked to that demigod, another one had taken the dummy she was heading for. Lauren usually would have just looked for another dummy and paid the new guy no attention, but she noticed how he was also wearing skinny jeans and shoes too nice to be used for swordplay training. Lauren found herself walking towards him. She wasn’t even paying attention to how he was hitting the dummy, but he turned and said, “I suppose you’re here to tell me I’m doing this wrong?”

Lauren’s lips curled into a smirk. ”I don’t usually tell people they’re wrong. I show them instead. So no, I’m not here to do that.” She studied the guy’s face, noting his playful expression and confident demeanour. He was much taller than her 5’3”, so she had to look up as she did so. He was good-looking, with brown eyes, brown hair and a well-defined jaw. His clothes showed how he was the sort of guy to take care of his appearance without overdoing it. He definitely oozed charm, and the way he held himself made Lauren wonder if he was a model or something of the sort. She has met a lot of attractive guys at Camp, but they usually held themselves with a different sort of confidence—the sort you’d usually see amongst heroes like Aragorn, Captain America and Jaime Lannister. This guy in front of her reminded her more of Spike from Buffy, and she wouldn’t be surprised if they had the same sort of snark. This will be fun, Lauren mused to herself. She looked pointedly at the guy’s jeans and shoes. ”Well, looks like I’m not the only one dressed for walking around Neiman Marcus right now. So, tell me, do you usually go to battle guided by the formidable Anna Wintour? Not that it’s a problem.”

Lauren looked back at the demigod who had called out to her. The demigod was now busy sparring with someone. They weren’t bad, but Lauren couldn’t help feeling a bit smug. After all, while Roman swordplay training enhanced your technique and teamwork, it didn’t exactly help your resourcefulness in battle, which is something Lauren prided herself in and loved about the Greeks. She wasn’t sure how skilled Mr. Skinny Jeans was in battle, but he certainly gave off the vibe of being resourceful and creative as well. Perhaps, if he was interested, they could show up Ms. Is-This-Neiman-Marcus. Perhaps Lauren could also check Mr. Skinny Jeans’ snark meter, and see who would win New Rome’s Next Top Buffy Summers between them.  As much as she liked the guy’s style, she sure wasn’t ready to relinquish being the most fabulous one in the Arena. Especially not when he took her dummy and now she has to prove to Ms. Is-This-Neiman-Marcus how she is the embodiment of Fabulous Fighter / Action Girl.

”Anyway, I’m Lauren. Unclaimed, First Cohort, blah blah blah. And you are?” Lauren asked the guy and mirrored his playful smile. She sheathed her weapons and held out her hand. “Care to spar? I’d like to see how well I can move in these jeans and boots, and I don’t think we can spar with anyone else in these outfits.”


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Swordplay ((Lauren Natsuki)) Empty Re: Swordplay ((Lauren Natsuki))

Post by Guest on Mon Sep 15, 2014 6:49 pm

The other demigod seemed to have a vaguely similar mindset to Lukas’, which was encouraging for the boy in a weird way. Lukas did take a quick glance of the girl in front of him; he looked at her clothes from her shoes to her neck and smiled a little – not enough to be kind but enough to acknowledge her.  Whether his intentions behind the smile were of a playful or sarcastic nature was difficult to make out. The girl was notably shorter than Lukas was which meant that Lukas had to look downwards to respond to her. He didn’t really like that, height usually aided people in becoming more dominant in a situation. Lukas saw height as an attractive feature – in boys that is, he liked his girl’s average height, and Lauren was . . . a bit small. He ultimately decided against commenting on her height, appearance or clothing. It wouldn’t have achieved much, and it would have only been rude to do so. The playful smirk he gave instead said so much more than any words he could ever muster would. His eyes flared open a little and his body posture opened up a bit as conversation began. He swung his sword around a little with his right hand and focussed his brown eyes directly at the girl. She was pretty – not necessarily his type but undeniable pretty. Most people here were pretty apart from the Vulcan kids, which was not all that surprising once Lukas got his head around it. The girl’s comment regarding Anna Wintour. . . whoever the heck that was, hit a dull note on him. He wasn’t sure what she meant or what she was talking about. He’d never heard of her.

Lukas was taken quite aback by this comment – a rare thing to find was Lukas Blakewood short of words. He edged backwards a bit and shrugged his shoulders, not very happy with admitting a flaw in his social interaction. “Don’t know who that is or what you’re on about,” he said quite frankly, “but I’m assuming it’s a lovely homage to the lack of armour. But nah I just haven’t had the chance to get some armour yet . . . and I’m too lazy to do so either so go figure – I’m sure you understand,” another playful smile was shot at the girl’s direction, this time accompanied with the sword pointing at her. The two of them seemed to have at least one thing in common so far, ignorance for Roman attire and Roman discipline. Lukas did like the idea of being a Roman soldier though; it added a certain edge to his already beaming character, he just wasn’t in the zone for it just yet.

He placed his free hand slowly through his hair and looked on as the girl moved her attention to another Roman who was practising her sword skills. Bless her, trying so hard – Lukas couldn’t imagine himself working so hard in the art of swordplay. Swords were very new to him, completely new even. He was cautious about moving the weapon around, it wasn’t quite right for his grasp but he was no sword expert so it was most likely just going to be a case of trial and error. He knew he’d have to attend training whenever the Cohort was allocated its slot for it, and Lukas liked the idea of getting to know the people in his cohort a bit better. But he didn’t like the idea of being told what to do. Camps weren’t supposed to be like that, were they? Lukas had had quite enough of being told what to do since he left the orphanage. There were a seemingly large amount of rules here, to be expected though really, this was Roman demigods. They were disciplined and order obeying to the letter. Lukas was going to be a bit of a handful for whoever’s job it was to get him interested in fighting. He’d try not to invigorate them . . . too much . . . hopefully.

“Well, Lauren,” Lukas said gently smiling as he spoke, “you have the honour of being in the presence of Lukas Blakewood. Unclaimed also and in the Second Cohort,” Lukas laughed kindly a little as he swirled the sword around once again, this time with a little more finesse (though still rather clumsily in truth). “This just happens to be my first time with a sword, seems I am quite the natural, huh?” Lukas intended it as a joke really, but the manner in which he spoke was so difficult to deduce that it could have seemed arrogant. The boy didn’t really think he was up to the job of sparring, but he couldn’t refuse an invitation from such a nicely dressed lady, could he? That would have been rude. They had that one thing connecting them right now, and Lukas liked that. He didn’t really take a shining to any of the other Romans he saw. He didn’t fail to notice the judgemental glances that the two of them were getting. Lukas didn’t care much though, he was very pleased with his outfit, and it made him look nice, even if the other Romans were a bit too stuck up to acknowledge it. After all, you can never tell who’ll come running round the corner of Camp a block of Camp Jupiter and run right into you. Better be dressed nicely rather than scruffily in those situations.

“Well, if you insist I suppose I wouldn’t mind some mild sparring,” he slowly shrugged his shoulders, “it’ll be a nice little introduction to using a sword at least.” The boy widened the gap between his skinny-jean clad legs and re-adjusted the sleeves on his white shirt with his free left hand. He resisted the urge to laugh, the two of them must have looked absolutely ridiculous but that made the situation far more amusing for Lukas. He lifted his sword upwards (awkwardly, obviously) and then gave a last quick smile before swiftly moving the sword down. It wasn’t necessarily a fast action, and he hadn’t intended it to be – it was smooth though, a clean slice. Sparring didn’t really seem all that fun to Lukas just yet, after all - he sucked at it. He was far more interested in Lauren, the social side of the meeting. It felt good to see someone like him, unclaimed, wearing their own clothes rather than camp armour. It was nice to see someone with a bit of a personality, Lukas saw a bit of him in her in that aspect. But that was about it. Well, Camp Jupiter life was going swimmingly so far. He’d already got invited to a sparring session and he’d only just arrived, marvellous!


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Post by Guest on Thu Sep 18, 2014 10:52 am

Lauren waved her hand dismissively and tried to stop herself from feeling a bit too smug. Upon learning that the boy didn't know who Anna Wintour was, Lauren had two conflicting feelings. There was the smug side, which made her look down on anyone who didn't deem to be as sophisticated as she considered herself (and her tastes) to be. On the other hand, Lauren felt bad for feeling that way. Demigods usually didn't have nice, privileged histories like her, after all. Besides, despite not having a monthly subscription to Vogue, the boy seemed to know fashion and style very well. He was definitely a natural at looking good and being charismatic, and Lauren did her best to hide her developing irritation by looking calm, and maybe just a bit amused. And what was she doing now going all Gossip Girl Blair Waldorf on him, when she has been doing her best to be a kind, warmhearted demigod? ”Oh, it doesn't matter,” she said. ”It's probably not your sort of thing to get interested in. And I totally understand about the lack of armor. I'm not really looking forward to wearing that.” Lauren motioned towards Ms. Is-This-Neiman-Marcus, who was wearing the standard Roman armor. It actually wasn't too bad looking, but for Lauren, it lacked personality. Then again, the Roman fighting style wasn't exactly known for its personality.

The boy introduced himself as Lukas Blakewood, unclaimed from the Second Cohort. ”Another unclaimed demigod, huh?” Lauren shook her head and clucked her tongue. Both camps seemed to be so full of them, and there were some who suffered the consequences more than most. Sometimes it made Lauren sad and pensive, but most of the time it just made her feel embarrassed. She didn't let it get to her, though. She would prove herself to be worthy of the gods' respect, unclaimed or not.

Lauren watched Lukas swing his sword and smiled. His technique was still quite lacking, but he had the right amount of confidence and desire to learn that would make him a good fighter. Lauren remembered her first few fencing lessons, and how she had looked so awkward trying to do the proper stance and move around while striking and parrying. Fencing champions made it look so easy and pretty, but it was definitely hard on the legs. She used to think that all the power came from your arms when you strike, but apparently it was all on the legs and hips. Looking at Lukas, he seemed the type to learn easily, and if Lauren wasn't careful he might be able to catch up on her fencing skills and outshine her when it came to who had the most unique (and probably weirdest) fighting style in Camp Jupiter. Competition is good, Lauren told herself. Competition inspires you to do better. Lauren unsheathed her gladius as Lukas readied himself. ”I hope you're ready,” Lauren grinned. ”Because I am.”

Lauren adopted a fighting stance, her sword hand both on guard and poised to attack, her body angled at 45 degrees to the left. Being on guard was always her problem in her fencing classes, so she made sure she was on guard now. He struck downwards, which Lauren parried with sidestep and a quick flicking motion. She tried not to curse as she felt pain shoot up her wrists. Roman swords were much heavier than rapiers, and she had momentarily forgotten that out of fear of being caught off-guard. She continued to smile lazily, not wanting to show weakness. I got this, she told herself. Her instructors may have pointed out so many flaws in her technique, but Lauren was not one to give up easily.

”Rule number one in both fighting and life—don't get too close.” Lauren wished she felt as confident as she sounded, but she was starting to get memories of annoyingly smug fencing classmates who earned points just because she wasn't fast enough to react. Sure, she had been her instructors' favorite, but that only meant the competitive students were extra-competitive with her. Though she wished she could use some technique lessons right now, she was glad there was no one telling her how awful she was at that moment.

As Lauren parried Lukas's attack, she tried to go for a riposte. She stepped backward to feint, then lunged toward Lukas's right side. She made sure she was on guard by turning slightly away from Lukas while aiming for his solar plexus. At the last minute though, Lauren felt herself hesitate for two reasons. One, they weren't wearing armor, which meant they would probably end up at the infirmary if they fought too aggressively. Two, Lauren's skinny jeans were definitely not made for lunges, and the heels of her boots slowed her a bit. Faex, she muttered to herself. She really probably should've just worn shorts instead—at least she would've been more comfortable while still looking stylish. ”Don't worry, I'm not insulting you,” said Lauren. She hoped Lukas wasn't offended by her last-minute hesitation. ”I just don't want us to end up having to eat dozens of ambrosia squares after this. So let's make a different rule for this. Even if it's about four inches away, it counts as a touch. That rule good?”

Lauren then took off her boots and socks then put them by the dummy. The ground felt coarse underneath her feet, but it was either she take them off or sprain her ankles. It was just her luck she had chosen to wear the high-heeled boots on this day. Well, at least I got to show them off, she thought. She glanced quickly at Miss Is-This-Neiman-Marcus again, wondering if she was smiling haughtily at Lauren's predicament, but the girl was still busy sparring with someone else. They were getting judgemental stares though, and Lauren caught some demigods smirking at her bare feet. She could already imagine the blisters she would get from this, but she wouldn't go down, not when everyone expected the fashionable pair to make a fool out of themselves. ”Sorry about that, but I'd rather not scuff my boots and sprain my ankle. Anyway, enough of this anticlimax—let's get down to business.” The amused smile was back on Lauren's lips as she thought of Mulan, and how the initially frail girl had shocked everyone with her hard-earned skills.

Now feeling more up for a sparring match, Lauren adopted a fighting stance again, watching Lukas closely as she started to circle him. Lauren normally hated moving around too much and being on the offensive, but she thought it was probably best to attack first this time. She stepped to his right, feinted a stab to his side then stepped backward again. Remembering her instructor's advice, she put the power on her legs as she lunged forward again, then aimed for Lukas's neck area this time.

((Sorry for the horrible quality. Sort of in a hurry right now, will do better in my next post. Sad))


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Post by Guest on Fri Sep 19, 2014 3:29 pm

Lukas creased his brow and smirked a little too quickly at the alteration from Lauren, which appeared to express some form of superiority regarding fashion knowledge. Lukas wasn’t extensively into the fashion business, but he had a keen eye for what suited him and what didn’t. He spent a lot of time looking through shops and – on several occasions – stealing the clothes that took his fancy. Sometimes he’d buy some from the small budget that he was provided by the orphanage but that was about it. He really wanted a proper family, a family that loved him properly. Clothes were the only thing he could buy whilst he waited for that, and until now no family had presented themselves to Lukas – so he kept on buying and stealing clothes. The results was a relatively extensive collection of clothing – which was now a little bit bigger with the addition of the Camp attire that he decided he would wear from time to time. He didn’t know what to make of the clothes really, he wasn’t going to protest though – arguing with those in charge about what he was wearing wouldn’t achieve much. He was in this Camp with a new family – he was going to play by the rules they set other than the little things that made Lukas undeniably Lukas-like. He didn’t, from what he had seen, enjoy the look of the Roman fighting method – and from what he could gather, Lauren didn’t seem to emulate it as much either.
The boy ultimately let the comment slip though, he wasn’t fond of confrontation, and Lauren moved on so quickly that he didn’t really have much chance to say anything after he took his swing downward. He somewhat listened to what she had to say in response to his action - but whilst she was speaking he did find it irrefutably difficult to keep his eyes away from a rather handsome individual who was walking towards a dummy. Lukas knew he shouldn’t be so rude, but he couldn’t help himself. He heard a quick sentence and Lukas now felt his teeth biting down on his lip, the force slowly oozed pain into his system. Then the quick words “don’t get too close” reached his ears and the boy was swiftly swept back into the conversation. He shook his head a little and smiled (though this time without any playful intention behind it); he returned eye contact with Lauren in an instant. His cheeks were most probably slowly turning a little redder – not necessarily out of embarrassment, more out of habit. He was a flirt, and the fact that he was a free for all pick and mixer wasn’t really going to help matters. “Yep...don’t get too close... good advice, yep . . .” he said, a little shaken and stirred up by the lack of concentration he had just exhumed. True Roman material through and through . . .
As Lauren decided to entrance the two of them into some form of exercise whilst they were dressed in fashionable clothing, the boy had to stifle back a laugh. It was preposterous, seeing a glamorous woman wielding a Roman Sword and sparring with it – and Lukas loved it. As Lauren halted in mid attack the boy creased his brow again – a response he used far too often.  Then some magical words came pouring out of her mouth and Lukas gave her a questioning grimace, he lowered his sword and shrugged his shoulders. “What’s ambrosia again?” he asked with a laugh, the whole situation didn’t feel real. He knew it was, but there was a biting feeling in the back of his mind that told him it was all a dream, that he’d wake up in his bed in the orphanage with Ulrich breathing heavily in the bed across from him. “If you think that rule works then its fine by me, sunshine,” the boy remarked cheekily.
Lukas glanced towards Lauren’s bare feet and the footwear she had just taken off, he found her apology for it a little odd. She didn’t need to apologise for that, so why had she? Was she someone who, deep down, respected manners? She seemed a little bit too outgoing and unique to be that sort of type. Lukas didn’t comment on the matter, Lauren was now getting into position and he needed to follow suit. He didn’t take his shoes off, or the tight skinny jeans for that matter. That would have been far too suggestive even for Lukas Blakewood. Not to mention extremely odd. Maybe if he had been inside he might have done - but that was a situation for another day.
She then started to encircle him and Lukas pulled a bored expression – he wasn’t into the whole drama thing. He preferred to put his spin on things, but the whole dramatic approach wasn’t his style. He, rather clumsily, dodged the attack Lauren sent his way and there was a rush of adrenaline that surged through him as he did so. It was a strange feeling, but certainly a good one.
“Surely you moving around in a circle means I can just put my sword in the direction you’re going?” Lukas mumbled, a little disinterested but with an undeniable undertone of competitiveness. “I’d slice you in half in an instant,” he mused – smirking voluntarily. He knew perfectly well that he was no match for this girl; he hadn’t picked up a sword before. All the things he knew about swords came from movies and TV shows. Not exactly the most experienced person to spar with. Nevertheless, Lukas’ idle cockiness was remarked as being slightly charming to some.
The boy swung the sword around again and took a slow lunge forwards – he aimed a little to the side of Lauren as she had suggested and didn’t really pay too much attention to whether he was successful or not. “Am I, or am I not, the greatest swordsman you have ever seen?” he laughed, a little bit too loudly so that a few of the other Romans took a quick angered glance at him before returning to their own practise.


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