[As Sorey sits, Dante frowns, swinging the sword one-handed back and forth a few times. Yeah. For some reason, holding it in one hand feels better than the two-handed grip he'd tried before--but when they'd started, the two-handed grip had felt more appropriate. Right? So something's changed.]
Yeah, I'm all right. I'm not really sure, but... something happened.
[Don't mind him, he's just going to try and test out a few things while Sorey's sitting, trying to figure out if there's a different offensive or defensive stance he favors now.]
Knowing how to use a sword doesn't mean you were some sort of fantasy hero, you know.
[Someone's having delusions of grandeur!]
I don't know what else you've remembered, but it could just mean you had training. That doesn't mean you used it.
Besides. Who you were then doesn't change who you are now. Knowing how to use a sword doesn't mean you're suddenly going to get jacked and drop your voice three octaves and start going out in search of monsters to kill.
[A-ha. There's a look of satisfaction in Dante's eyes as he comes to a strange offensive stance: hips turned slightly, knees bent, weight mostly balanced, left hand outstretched toward an imaginary enemy and his blade--no, his bokken; it's not a sword he holds in his hand in spite of how right everything feels--up and and angled down, arm cocked back. It's not a fighting stance he would have ever thought about on his own, but something about it whispers yes to his soul, feels like he's arrived somewhere he's never been but somehow knows.
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[As Sorey sits, Dante frowns, swinging the sword one-handed back and forth a few times. Yeah. For some reason, holding it in one hand feels better than the two-handed grip he'd tried before--but when they'd started, the two-handed grip had felt more appropriate. Right? So something's changed.]
Yeah, I'm all right. I'm not really sure, but... something happened.
[Don't mind him, he's just going to try and test out a few things while Sorey's sitting, trying to figure out if there's a different offensive or defensive stance he favors now.]
Knowing how to use a sword doesn't mean you were some sort of fantasy hero, you know.
[Someone's having delusions of grandeur!]
I don't know what else you've remembered, but it could just mean you had training. That doesn't mean you used it.
Besides. Who you were then doesn't change who you are now. Knowing how to use a sword doesn't mean you're suddenly going to get jacked and drop your voice three octaves and start going out in search of monsters to kill.
[A-ha. There's a look of satisfaction in Dante's eyes as he comes to a strange offensive stance: hips turned slightly, knees bent, weight mostly balanced, left hand outstretched toward an imaginary enemy and his blade--no, his bokken; it's not a sword he holds in his hand in spite of how right everything feels--up and and angled down, arm cocked back. It's not a fighting stance he would have ever thought about on his own, but something about it whispers yes to his soul, feels like he's arrived somewhere he's never been but somehow knows.
This is him. This is how he used to fight.]