Make you a sword of me?

[jackrackham]

Jack flips through the few shirts lying in his dresser, feeling full of nervous energy. There's something exciting about the prospect of being able to fight again, even if only played with an aim to practice. It feels like something that really truly belongs to him and who he is, even in this place.

Even if the shirt he arrived in Darrow with weren't dirty, he would be a little wary now of repeating the whole outfit lest it trigger something in him like had happened on horseback. Regardless of how well Eliot had taken it, Jack wants to be able to show Eliot that he's not going to lose himself like that again. Even more, he wants to show Eliot that he's good at something. It would feel good to be able to show him something worthwhile, to impress him.

He pulls out a loose sleeveless shirt, pulls that on and tucks one side loosely into the belt of his old trousers. He tucks his dagger down into his boot, situates his sword belt on his hips, and grabs his sunglasses before heading out the door.

When he arrives at the boardwalk, Jack wanders a little ways from the few people out this early. The sky is clear and blue, the lingering sunrise keeping an orange tint to the sand and sea. The air hasn't warmed up yet, and the salt breeze feels soft against his face. He paces a little in the sand, thinking over different ways they might spar.

He's not sure that he has much to teach if Eliot is looking for that, but he is looking forward to seeing how Eliot fights. He's looking forward to seeing Eliot. After the mess of the last week, it'll be good to do something that feels uncomplicated.

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[eliotwaugh]

Eliot has never been an early bird, and despite how much he’s looking forward to this activity, he’s not going to turn over a new leaf now.

So he rolls out of bed at 6:10 and throws on his most comfortable jeans and a loose, drapey t-shirt. It would have been better to wear something like this for going riding, he thinks as he pulls on his boots. Perhaps it wouldn’t have turned out so badly if he hadn’t been so fussy and trying to be impressive. But perhaps there was nothing he could have done to prevent it either way. And he knows more now, knows Jack better. So he won’t make the same misstep again.

He tucks in his shirt and buckles on the belt and hanger for the rapier. He hasn’t had occasion to use it since New Year’s, and while that’s probably a good thing, he does wonder if settling into a life here without adventure has contributed to getting tangled up in his own confusing feelings. It will be good to give himself some clarity, and training ought to provide it.

Eliot wants to do this honestly, but he does slip an enchanted coin into his pocket, in case of some sort of Darrow emergency. He will do his very best not to cheat.

His stomach starts growling as soon as he heads for the door, and Eliot frowns. He shouldn’t have snoozed his alarm. He grabs a water bottle for his bag and does some quick thermal manipulation to toast a couple slices of bread; he’ll have to eat on the way.

The breeze is more refreshing than the dry toast, and he picks up his pace as he makes his way down to the beach. It’s early enough that the smell of the salt air is more noticeable than the garbage of the boardwalk. It looks to be a lovely day.

“Hey!” Eliot calls, waving as he sees Jack standing on the sand. He jogs up the last few yards but stops when he gets a better at him. Or, more accurately, his arms. “Oh,” he says, a little out of breath and feeling very suddenly overdressed, “hi, were you–I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

He tries to make his expression pleasant and not stare. He wants to ask if Jack is cold, and when he got that tattoo, and if he’s always been so lovely and lean. But that’s stupid, of course. Eliot looks up the beach to see if anyone’s around, but there’s just a lone metal detectorist and someone fishing off the pier. That’s good, probably, it feels wrong to have anyone there to watch them. But thinking like that makes him feel like they’re here to do something obscene.

Eliot clears his throat. “So uh, it’s good weather today, yeah?”