Sparring, outside of training with Aiglamene sometimes with the assistance of skeletons and/or Crux, honestly is something Gideon’s only done a handful of time. That brief stint at Canaan House before Magnus and Abigail were murdered. It had shocked her to learn other people didn’t spar to the floor, until someone wasn’t getting back up again entirely of their own accord, and going to bed sore and bruised and occasionally with something broken. Except for the last couple months at the Ninth House, Gideon had even gotten to use her broadsword, not a toothpick.
“You do seem awfully concerned with your hair,” Gideon admits, “but you’re not an absolute dick. I cannot wait for when we actually get proper swords, even if they are rapiers. I feel like I can ask you about any absolutely epic shit you pull, so I can learn how to do it. Necros may start drooling over magical theorems, but swords are way cooler.”
no subject
“You do seem awfully concerned with your hair,” Gideon admits, “but you’re not an absolute dick. I cannot wait for when we actually get proper swords, even if they are rapiers. I feel like I can ask you about any absolutely epic shit you pull, so I can learn how to do it. Necros may start drooling over magical theorems, but swords are way cooler.”
She shrugs. If that’s not friendship, what is?