Clarice & Wade | Thursday Afternoon

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Clarice and Wade agree to exchange knowledge... of swords and knives.


"Skittles," Wade called, flipping one of his knives up into the air and then catching it by the hilt. He repeated the motion, frowning a little before throwing the knife toward the target on the far wall. Grabbing a staff from its display, he gave it a twirl. "I gotta question!"

"42, no and waffle beards," Clarice called back from where she sat on the floor of their shared living room as she sharpened her swords. They laid on the floor next to her in a neat line as she worked.

"Overused, damn, and delicious," Wade said. "Also, none of them are the answer to my very important question." He started working through a series of kata with the staff. "How do you work a sword?"

42 was habit. "Uh....." Clarice paused, too many smart ass replies short circuiting her brain. "Move," she said, pushing the furniture out of the way. They alternated between no furniture and proper living room set for a reason. Taking a katana, she began a kata of her own, this one designed for the sword.

Wade paused his kata at a natural stopping point and stood out of Clarice's way as she began her demonstration. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her working through her forms, but it was the first time he'd paid attention with an eye to potentially learning. "Can you go a little slower? Pause each form so I can see it clearly before moving to the next?"

Picking up a sword, she presented it to him, "There can be only one," she intoned, "but I'm not immortal, so no decapitation tonight?" she suggested, going back to the beginning. She was pretty sure he was. Or at least, damn close to it.

"Pretty sure I own the original prop sword from Highlander," Wade commented, putting his staff aside to accept the katana. He watched her move through her forms, eyes narrowed as he shifted into blocky approximations of them himself. Getting the body positioned correctly was important. He could work on the sword's positioning once he had the motions down. At least, he thought he could. That was generally how he worked with other weapons.

"I have wooden practice swords, too," Clarice said, though they weren't here. Next time, next time they would use those and not live steel. Wade knew katas, he knew martial arts, and he knew weapons. These specific ones might be new, but they weren't completely foreign. "Yeah, you're getting it," she agreed, pausing to adjust one of his arms.

"Sweet," Wade said, noting the correction and then continuing on. "The wooden ones would be good for faster practice. Regrowing limbs would suck and these puppies are sharp. I like 'em."

"They're good for attacking, too," it wasn't all just about pretty sword dancing. At least, that was how she saw the katas. They were useful and she liked them, but they weren't quite fighting. "At least you make regrowing limbs look awesome and fun!"

"Hah, or slow and gross," Wade said, stepping out of the kata to loosen up before he started from the top again. "Gimpy healing factors, for the win! But seriously, this is cool. You think we can work on this a couple times a week?"

"Better gimpy than none. I mean, we can compare if you want? You've had more shit no question, I still don't have a healing factor," the words were matter of fact, no real heat or competition in them. Besides, Clarice knew his medical records, at least as far as what was on record at Xavier's. "Absolutely. But only if you work with me with throwing daggers. I am shit at that."

"Deal," Wade said. "And you've got a point about the healing factors." He considered going into the functional immortality issue, but thinking about it once a year was more than enough maudlin for him.

"Fix your stance, your feet are kaddyconkus," she corrected mildly, letting him see her stance. "And...one more time."