fauxcaliburâ:
Itâs been a good, oh, several centuries since Richardâs last festival. The Grail War may be considered a bloody contest by many, but itâs yet to make it onto his list, anyway. This one, though - with its lights and colour and activities - is perhaps the most exciting one heâs experienced yet! With the level of energy and excitement coursing through the island ( and Richardâs body ) itâs only a matter of time before he ends up in some sort of predicament.Â
See, for example, the raft heâs standing aboard: foam-sword clutched firmly in hand. Itâs certainly different from his past duels, but that only makes it all the more wonderful. âTerms? Hm.â He ponders this for but a moment. âNaturally the first to be pushed into the water is thus declared the loser of this bout. No tricks, no underhand tactics, no slippery business. We let our swords speak for us.â Even if theyâre of the bubble-spewing variety. âDoubtful weâll do irreversible damage to one another using these things, though!â
Richardâs laughter rocks the raft gently, and it takes a good portion of his will not to go further. âThat should be all. Unless milady also has a term or two to lay down? I see no reason to deny any request you may add. It may makes things interesting.â Of course he says this during a foam duel in the middle of the ocean.
Perhaps it's the festival's already abundant atmosphere or even the absurdity of the scenario already working it's magic, but she can't help but find the man's clear enthusiasm infectious. Her tail swayed placidly to and fro in response to his gentle rocking of the raft, a natural counterbalance while she considered his terms. Simple enough by far, an honourable duel between two who enjoyed their craft... well, as honourable as squeaking foam could be.
The thought teased an easy laugh out of her, setting one hand on her hip, âIf you manage to take my arm off with one of these, I will be duly impressedâ if not a little dismayed.â Placing one finger at the tip of her blade, it easily bends in an arc before she allows it to spring back into place.
âBut aye, those are amenable to meâ just a good, clean bout,â Her head tilts slightly in consideration of the counter offer, perhaps the faintest twinkle visible in her eye as she returns easily, âAnd not so much a term but something to sweeten the victor's pot. There's plenty of interesting vendors back on land, and I'm sure most are best enjoyed out of another's pocket.â Trying to get free lunch out of a fight was perhaps not the most sportsman-like, but Faris had just enough grace not to offer any sort of bargain she wasn't willing to uphold. Mostly.
Grinning, she settled into stance, sword arm levelled at the other, âBut it's far from a necessity, victory tends to be sweet enough on it's own. On your mark, good Ser!â













