Just as the title suggests. If they were in a bathroom and had a black haired boy with glasses, Warner Brothers would be beating down our door. They stab him with magic Marie-Ange swords. Then they beat up some guards and tie their shoelaces together. Amused? I think so.
Trolls smelled -bad-, Marie-Ange decided. Granted, she also smelled bad, but at least in her case, it was the smell of having ridden a horse at full gallop for nearly a day, and sweat, rather than the smell of rotting meat or poo or whatever it was those trolls smelled of.
Trolls were also, unfortunatly, hard to hurt, at least with a quarterstaff, and as it was, the staff was looking battered and ... ~crack~. . actually quite broken. Marie-Ange reeled back from the blow that broke her staff and dove behind an overturned table to avoid being stomped on and broken. "Merde. Merde, merde, merde." Looking around frantically for something to continue defending herself with, she caught sight of a hanging tapestry, depicting a pair of dueling warriors. A moment later, Marie-Ange gripped the hilt of a sword - heavier than her own had been, but still useable. ~But I concentrated on both.. so... ~
The matching sword suddenly appeared beside her, held by a familiar blonde young woman. Paige smiled and actually even managed to give Marie-Ange a playful little wink. Obviously, the combination of Asgard and finding out that she wasn't alone there had made Paige insane. "Thank you for the sword, chickpea. I lost my spear to the big ugly thing over there and I wasn't sure how well defending you by waving my arms around and screaming 'Go away! Go away!' was going to work. This feels much better."
"Defending me?" Marie-Ange snorted out a laugh. "Paige, those are nine foot tall trolls. I think we're better just going after one together." A moment later, any planning they might have done was entirely interrupted by a huge grey arm - attached to a truly massive grey troll (the aforementioned big, ugly thing) tossing the table to one side and roaring at them. "See?!" Marie-Ange shouted, rearing back in time to avoid being swatted into a wall.
Paige make a little bit of a face, wrinkled nose and all, before setting her jaw. Valkyries did not wrinkle their nose. "Sounds good to me! After all this I'd prefer not to die here." Paige jumped out of the way, not sparing any focus on that which didn't concern her at the moment. Her eyes darted for a moment, assessing the situation. "Circle him. I'll go first, you get him in the back. Try not to let me die," she finally said confidently, and stepped forward towards the ugly thing.
If Marie-Ange hadn't been so concerned about her own sanity (fighting a troll? She could have sword that a few months ago, she wasn't planning on fighting anything, ever.) she would have questioned Paige's. As it was, the blonde seemed to know how to handle the situation a bit better than Marie-Ange herself did. ~Try not to let you -die-? Really, Paige. I'm not that clumsy.~ Her mental voice sounded entirely sardonic, even to her own estimation.
Once Paige had lunged forward, Marie-Ange darted around behind the troll, awkwardly slashing at its calves. She knew for absolute certainty that the imaged-swords were as sharp as the real thing. It was still a -troll-, with thick muscle and tough skin, and very difficult for a teenaged girl - trained by Sif or not - to do it much harm.
The good thing about trolls was that even though they were mean, ugly and tough, they also happened to be stupid. With Paige on one side and Marie-Ange on the other, a lot of its time was spent flailing, attempting to figure out which girl to eat first. It was this, their teamwork, which gave both Paige and Marie-Ange the slight upper hand against him, and allowed Paige the clumsy upwards stab under the trolls chin.
Jumping back, a very messy sword in hand, Paige allowed herself to give the creature a disgusted look before turning to Marie-Ange. "Someone's been teaching you," she observed bluntly. "You're quite decent."
"Sif. It was like learning from the worst combination of Sarah and Domino." It -must- have been the adrenaline talking, because Marie-Ange couldn't stop grinning. "She would not call it decent, but its keeping me from dying in messy painful ways, so right now, I'm not complaining."
Looking past the bulk of the now-very-dead troll, she frowned at the pair of guards just stepping into the corridor. "I draw the line at actually killing people that look like people." she said, looking at the sword in her hand. "I'm trying to keep the number of people I've killed, ever, to one. Any bright ideas?"
"Well, if push comes to shove, I'll kill them for you, but I try to save murder for special occasions," Paige answered, keeping a ready position just in case. She had nothing against killing someone to protect herself or those she cared for, but she wasn't fond of going on killing sprees because she or someone else couldn't be bothered to think of anything better. "Do you think they'd answer to please?"
At the guards' shout of "Kill them!" , Marie-Ange frowned and shook her head sadly. "No. Its really a shame too."
She was definitely ignoring Paige's casual commentary about killing, chalking it up to .. well, it had to be from something, and Marie-Ange was definitely -not- thinking about it any longer. Mostly because she was a little busy elbowing a guard in the stomach. Which really -hurt-, because he was wearing chainmail, and maybe going for soft spots on men in metal shirts wasn't the best idea. So, revising her plan accordingly, Marie-Ange punched the guard in the nose. Really, it was his own fault for leaving his nose uncovered.
Paige rolled her eyes, just resisting putting her hand in her hair and husking them out of this situation. This was one of the many reasons on a long list of why she wanted to go home already. There was a split second in which Paige watched, amazed, as the normally so pacifistic Marie-Ange literally went to work, before waving to the other guard, grabbing his attention. She had her honour after all; she didn't come from behind.
"I take back my decent comment from earlier," Paige managed to comment, between ducking around her opponent and using the hilt of her sword to jab him in the underarm. That would probably smart in the morning, as would the crack to the back of his head. So much for honour. At least she hadn't split it open. "You're really quite good."
"I hate bruises more than I hate fighting, I found out." Rubbing her sore elbow (leathers only did so much), Marie-Ange checked on 'her' guard, making sure he was actually very unconscious. He was, or else he was faking it really, really well, so she tied his boot-laces together. Yes, it was silly. She knew it was silly. It also would slow him down, and it make Jamie and Doug laugh later, and they would likely need some laughs, the lot of them.
Paige couldn't help by laugh, following suit. "Ah. Understood. The lesser of two evils, to paraphrase and not get it totally correct." Dusting off her hands in what could almost be a comical way Paige nodded solidly. "Well! I think our work here is done. Shall we be off then?"
Trolls smelled -bad-, Marie-Ange decided. Granted, she also smelled bad, but at least in her case, it was the smell of having ridden a horse at full gallop for nearly a day, and sweat, rather than the smell of rotting meat or poo or whatever it was those trolls smelled of.
Trolls were also, unfortunatly, hard to hurt, at least with a quarterstaff, and as it was, the staff was looking battered and ... ~crack~. . actually quite broken. Marie-Ange reeled back from the blow that broke her staff and dove behind an overturned table to avoid being stomped on and broken. "Merde. Merde, merde, merde." Looking around frantically for something to continue defending herself with, she caught sight of a hanging tapestry, depicting a pair of dueling warriors. A moment later, Marie-Ange gripped the hilt of a sword - heavier than her own had been, but still useable. ~But I concentrated on both.. so... ~
The matching sword suddenly appeared beside her, held by a familiar blonde young woman. Paige smiled and actually even managed to give Marie-Ange a playful little wink. Obviously, the combination of Asgard and finding out that she wasn't alone there had made Paige insane. "Thank you for the sword, chickpea. I lost my spear to the big ugly thing over there and I wasn't sure how well defending you by waving my arms around and screaming 'Go away! Go away!' was going to work. This feels much better."
"Defending me?" Marie-Ange snorted out a laugh. "Paige, those are nine foot tall trolls. I think we're better just going after one together." A moment later, any planning they might have done was entirely interrupted by a huge grey arm - attached to a truly massive grey troll (the aforementioned big, ugly thing) tossing the table to one side and roaring at them. "See?!" Marie-Ange shouted, rearing back in time to avoid being swatted into a wall.
Paige make a little bit of a face, wrinkled nose and all, before setting her jaw. Valkyries did not wrinkle their nose. "Sounds good to me! After all this I'd prefer not to die here." Paige jumped out of the way, not sparing any focus on that which didn't concern her at the moment. Her eyes darted for a moment, assessing the situation. "Circle him. I'll go first, you get him in the back. Try not to let me die," she finally said confidently, and stepped forward towards the ugly thing.
If Marie-Ange hadn't been so concerned about her own sanity (fighting a troll? She could have sword that a few months ago, she wasn't planning on fighting anything, ever.) she would have questioned Paige's. As it was, the blonde seemed to know how to handle the situation a bit better than Marie-Ange herself did. ~Try not to let you -die-? Really, Paige. I'm not that clumsy.~ Her mental voice sounded entirely sardonic, even to her own estimation.
Once Paige had lunged forward, Marie-Ange darted around behind the troll, awkwardly slashing at its calves. She knew for absolute certainty that the imaged-swords were as sharp as the real thing. It was still a -troll-, with thick muscle and tough skin, and very difficult for a teenaged girl - trained by Sif or not - to do it much harm.
The good thing about trolls was that even though they were mean, ugly and tough, they also happened to be stupid. With Paige on one side and Marie-Ange on the other, a lot of its time was spent flailing, attempting to figure out which girl to eat first. It was this, their teamwork, which gave both Paige and Marie-Ange the slight upper hand against him, and allowed Paige the clumsy upwards stab under the trolls chin.
Jumping back, a very messy sword in hand, Paige allowed herself to give the creature a disgusted look before turning to Marie-Ange. "Someone's been teaching you," she observed bluntly. "You're quite decent."
"Sif. It was like learning from the worst combination of Sarah and Domino." It -must- have been the adrenaline talking, because Marie-Ange couldn't stop grinning. "She would not call it decent, but its keeping me from dying in messy painful ways, so right now, I'm not complaining."
Looking past the bulk of the now-very-dead troll, she frowned at the pair of guards just stepping into the corridor. "I draw the line at actually killing people that look like people." she said, looking at the sword in her hand. "I'm trying to keep the number of people I've killed, ever, to one. Any bright ideas?"
"Well, if push comes to shove, I'll kill them for you, but I try to save murder for special occasions," Paige answered, keeping a ready position just in case. She had nothing against killing someone to protect herself or those she cared for, but she wasn't fond of going on killing sprees because she or someone else couldn't be bothered to think of anything better. "Do you think they'd answer to please?"
At the guards' shout of "Kill them!" , Marie-Ange frowned and shook her head sadly. "No. Its really a shame too."
She was definitely ignoring Paige's casual commentary about killing, chalking it up to .. well, it had to be from something, and Marie-Ange was definitely -not- thinking about it any longer. Mostly because she was a little busy elbowing a guard in the stomach. Which really -hurt-, because he was wearing chainmail, and maybe going for soft spots on men in metal shirts wasn't the best idea. So, revising her plan accordingly, Marie-Ange punched the guard in the nose. Really, it was his own fault for leaving his nose uncovered.
Paige rolled her eyes, just resisting putting her hand in her hair and husking them out of this situation. This was one of the many reasons on a long list of why she wanted to go home already. There was a split second in which Paige watched, amazed, as the normally so pacifistic Marie-Ange literally went to work, before waving to the other guard, grabbing his attention. She had her honour after all; she didn't come from behind.
"I take back my decent comment from earlier," Paige managed to comment, between ducking around her opponent and using the hilt of her sword to jab him in the underarm. That would probably smart in the morning, as would the crack to the back of his head. So much for honour. At least she hadn't split it open. "You're really quite good."
"I hate bruises more than I hate fighting, I found out." Rubbing her sore elbow (leathers only did so much), Marie-Ange checked on 'her' guard, making sure he was actually very unconscious. He was, or else he was faking it really, really well, so she tied his boot-laces together. Yes, it was silly. She knew it was silly. It also would slow him down, and it make Jamie and Doug laugh later, and they would likely need some laughs, the lot of them.
Paige couldn't help by laugh, following suit. "Ah. Understood. The lesser of two evils, to paraphrase and not get it totally correct." Dusting off her hands in what could almost be a comical way Paige nodded solidly. "Well! I think our work here is done. Shall we be off then?"