The Mark of Coco

[Coco]

It was understandable that the Nix had difficulty tracking the Wasp's motion, the motion of her feet, and the motion of their conversation as well. That had been the whole point of prodding her into speaking, after all. Well, that, and Coco was impatient and didn't want to wait to ask later. Though that was a much smaller part. More importantly, but watching how Ava performed when a distraction was introduced, Coco was able to see what areas the Nix truly needed to work on, and which could be addressed afterwards. So, after a few more minutes of back and forth the Wasp held up a hand and then disengaged their blades.

"That's good for now. And well done. Especially for a beginner, though I can't say that I'm surprised. You always struck me as someone that was sensitive. In a perceptive way, I mean," Coco explained, knowing the archivist would understand her usage of the word. A definite benefit of befriending someone who was so enamored of books.

"And also, thank you for telling me that. I know it's not a pleasant to remember things like that, but I'm glad you shared. It's made me think that perhaps I also need to be taking classes from you. I only know a few elementary things about how to influence my own dreams, but I'm sure I'd be ripe picking for someone even half as skilled as you. But we can talk more about that later. For now, we're going to do some footwork drills. First, watch me..."

The Wasp turned to the side so she could demonstrate in profile, and began to slowly model how to move without displacing the center of gravity and without changing the profile of her body. For in fencing, lines were everything. Lines were life. She offered some commentary as she moved, imagining that the Nix was probably someone that learned best through words, but there was only so much that could be said, in the Wasp's opinion. So, after the demonstration, she turned back to the Nix and had them both begin to move forward and back again.

After about five minutes of that, she transitioned them again into the sensitivity exercise, this time providing corrections as they moved back and forth. Though, after she had gone a few minutes without having to repeat a correction, she piped up with another question.

"So, tell me Ava, where do you think your greatest strength is in a fight?"

[Coco]

A smirk blossomed upon the Wasp's face and she gave a most satisfied little shrug.

"Oh, well, nothing that I haven't already told you. It's simple: my strength is that I can't be touched if I do not wish it, and while the enemies attacks strike only air, mine hold the promise of a most lethal sting. Not that I'm perfect," she explained gesturing dismissively with her offhand, "for instance I'm not particularly skilled at fighting more than one opponent at a time, but in a duel, well, I would hazard to say that there is probably no one better in the Freehold. And that is a claim that I would test on any day."

The Wasp's smugly satisfied lasted for several seconds longer before it morphed into a small moue and then disappeared behind a mask of professional joviality.

"Anyways, that's something you'll want to consider as we continue to train. Particularly what you said. Keep that in mind, and never lose sight of it, for what I teach you is useless if not adapted to suit you. Not that this is an excuse for poor form, mind you," Coco explained, giving Ava's left calf a tap with her sword, "but form and style are not synonymous. Rather, form is what allows you to develop your style. Does that make sense?"

[Coco]

An intriguing question, the Wasp thought with a contemplative frown. She crossed her arms as she thought, her offhand rising up to brush at her chin before she finally decided upon an answer.

"Truthfully, I believe that style is something that begins to emerge from the beginning, from the inception of the idea that the student is capable, and will only become more so. However, without proper form, such style is muddied, so I'd likely say that it would take perhaps a year, or two, for someone to develop their style if they train fiercely. If they do not, then it might take longer. Still you'd be surprised by what you can read in someone's movements. Why, even now I can sense that you are going to be a more defensive fencer. You'll probably take to having your weight on you back leg once you begin to bout."

[Coco]

"Keep your spine straight," the Wasp corrected, falling into stance once more in front of the Nix. "Now let's work the movement in. As we did before. Then we'll start you on lunges.

"And no," she added, "I haven't spoken with her since. I wanted to give her space. I figured that it would be in ill taste to force my company upon her. And...truthfully, I don't know if we do make for good company for the other. I like to talk. She doesn't. I don't really know how to maneuver around that. How to coax her into speaking, or how to feint past her guard," she explained, the squeak of their shoes across the linoleum accompanying her words.

[Coco]

A frown alighted upon the Wasp's face, as she pondered what the Nix had said, the normally outlandishly egotistical woman looking worried and hesistant, not unlike how reticence Ava had also been before their fencing lesson had begun. But no matter the front of disposition that Coco so often projected, such an insecure look was not as unnatural as she might try to make it appear, for vanity and pride were often bulwarks projected by those too fearful to acknowledge the flaws within themselves, and when it came to Coco's relationship with Ramona, there were only two choices: fabricate delusions to maintain a self protective reality, or cast of the cloak of vainglory and admit her failings. Yet, for the Lost, the stuff of dreams lay with firm affinity in their minds, as the Oneiromancer Nix surely knew, even if the caress of reality was coveted so strongly.

Except that they were not in a Dream, nor any realm more fantastic than one where a rich TV celebrity might run for president, and so Coco turned to Ava for help.

"Maybe instead of dream combat, you could coach me on that. How to make her comfortable and, well, I'm not sure, but you're a keen judge of character and her best friend as well. You must now some secret or strategy...even if you keep slouching like you're at your desk," she added, more snappishly then she'd intended to.

"Here, why dont we do this. We'll set the swords down and just focus on the movement," she suggested, reaching out to take the practice blade.