Post by mairi on Jun 29, 2008 12:36:49 GMT -6
[11:49] JackoftheFaerie: As the pair headed down toward the beach,
Jack couldn't help but smile as he squeezed his arm gently around
Mairi's waist. Jack flashed her a smile, before turning back toward
the beach. As they drew closer, she would see that there was a long,
narrow box sitting on a narrow stone. Jack smiled softly as he looked
to her, "I got you a gift....." When they were close enough, the
Irishman would reach out and open the box. Sitting inside, the morning
sun would glint of a beautiful steel blade. Inside the
[11:52] JackoftheFaerie: box was a new sword for Mairi: it was a
basket-hilted claymore. She could see that it had been fashioned as an
almost exact duplicate of Jack's blade. Save that it had been cut in
both size and weight to be more manageable by a woman of Mairi's
stature. There was also a sheath for the blade as well. After propping
the box open, Jack stepped back to quietly watch Mairi's features. (d)
[11:56] Pride of Eireann: Mairi had been quieted only because she knew
that eventually she would be able to spar, as permitted by the healer.
Licking her lips in anticipation, the sea, as usual, did little to
quiet her--it only enhanced her ardor. Coming across the box, the
Ceannfort approached it with a surprised look on her face. She viewed
the sword for a full minute before even touching it. Presently, she
was wearing a practice sword--live steel, but old. She had left the
sharp and effective items mostly for those left defending Ulster. She
soon
[11:59] Pride of Eireann: switched out the swords, keeping the new one
sheathed for a while. This was the first basket hilt she'd ever used,
as most such swords were a bit large for her to be effective. She got
used to wearing it, closed the box, and walked around it a few times,
ceremoniously. "It looks a bit fancy fer me, a cara, but I may get
used to it." She was currently clad in plain brown breeches, a saffron
dyed chemise, and a fitted vest, eager for sword play. She looked at
Jack's face, imaginging how she would paint him when they went to
invade--and the specific send off she would give him. What is it she'd
be doing while she painted his face? A sly grin might be a clue. This
man deserved her love and her touch. Eventually,
[11:59] Pride of Eireann: Mairi drew the sword and admired the fold of
the blade. She swung it through the air a few times, getting used to
the hilt. (d)
[12:07] JackoftheFaerie: Jack leaned against the rock, as he watched
Mairi begin working with her blade. "Dae ye like it?" Only a good spar
would help make her get a true feel of the blade and the way it
behaved in her hand. Did his gifts prove how well he'd grown to know
her? There was a smile, "Had then make it after me own, cept cut down
ta where ye could manage it better." Aye, Jack admired her body and
the way it moved when she began practicing with her new blade. A sly
smile of his own formed as he watched her form.
[12:10] JackoftheFaerie: Jack remembered what Aislin had said about
Mairi being able to swordfight and knew how active it would be. It
would be a good way for her to loose weight, if she so desgined.
However, as Jack watched her, he realized the new form of Mairi's body
- the way she was gaining in all of the correct places, the way she
was growing more mothernly - was how he prefered her. (d)
[12:17] Pride of Eireann: She wasn't thinking about her body, or even
his for that matter as her eyes followed her own sword. Getting used
to it, she practiced a few more cuts that would be lethal were a
person present. "I'll really need to kill some Anglish to check it
out, a chuisle, but ye'll do." She held the weapon defensively, then
ran a finger along the flat of the blade, admiring it. She grinned at
the beauty of the blade. "Let's go then." Ready, she glared at him--as
she often did before taking him to bed. "I like fightin' ye. Don't go
easy on me now because of me condition, aye?" (d)
[12:26] JackoftheFaerie: There was no reply from her Consort, as he
unsheathed his own claymore. Lightly, he touched it against her own
blade with his. Gently, he ran his blade from the hilt of her blade up
it's length, over the point, and back toward the hilt on the other
side. It was a gentle motion, one letting the ringing sound of steel
echo over the beach. Jack shifted his stance, it was a subtle one, and
she could tell from how he held his body that was now ready for their
spar. The soft smile he gave her told her that
[12:26] JackoftheFaerie: much. Jack's eyes watched her own and she
would, see that he was returning her bedroom eyes with her own. (d)
[13:39] Pride of Eireann: Mairi's eyes followed the length of his
sword as he began to touch his claymore to hers. Following the ringing
sound, she pressed against his blade with their own, leading them in a
half circle so that they were standing opposite. She kept her
gaze--which might be construed as distracting it was so blatantly full
of desire--fixed upon him, watching his eyes. When Mairi was ready,
she pointed the weapon towards him and then prepared. Generally, and
specifically in sword fighting, Mairi was somewhat aggressive. She
moved toward him, blade held defensively in case he chose to come
forward. She was testing him: her eyes on his, hoping he'd look before
he'd issue a strike. (d)
[13:57] JackoftheFaerie: As the Irishman slowly circle with Mairi, his
eyes would never her own. Jack offered a slow smile upon his features,
"Are ye ready ta be takin' yer sword?" There was a slow smile,
wondering if he remembered their time amongst the waves of
Dunseverick. Did she remember what he had said then? Jack took a few
steps back allowing Mairi to advance on him. As for showing where he
was going to strike? His eyes never left her own. When at last there
came the ringing of blades, it would be the Irishman who moved
[13:59] JackoftheFaerie: first. The Irishman's slice split the air.
The flat of the blade was going straight toward Mairi's sword arm. And
his eyes had never left her own. (d)
[14:04] Pride of Eireann: The Ceannfort was distracted by her
Consort's comment. She did in fact remember what he had said, and she
let slip a wicked grin at the memory of that day. He was surprisingly
fast, even though she'd seen him fight before. Mairi's eyes left his
to counter. Swiftly, Mairi turned the front of her body toward the
incoming blade and parried, placing the flat of her blade to meet his.
Though she was fast enough for the block, the angle was sloppy--her
off hand had to ascend to steady the far reach of the blade, else it
would give and she'd get tapped. The defense worked, but left her
vulnerable. It was not something she would have done had she more than
one opponent. She arched her back slightly to give more weight to the
blade, and more balance to herself. The next move would have to be
his, though the passion in her eyes, unbridled, indicated that she
wanted to lead him in every way. (d)
[14:12] JackoftheFaerie: Jack's smile stayed an easy one, as he
watched how she reacted to his blade and watched how she fought. "Ye
look as though ye are already ta be sheathin' yer blade....." Jack
said, letting her have time to strengthen her defense. Once again the
Irsihman would press his attack, again slicing with the flat of his
blade toward her sword arm. Should she counter with her blade, there
another ringing of blades touched only breifly before the blade darted
toward Mairi's off-side. Had she gone to keep her
[14:12] JackoftheFaerie: inital defensive posture, the one of bracing
her off hand against a strike to her sword arm? If so, t'would be a
clear path for the flat of jack's blade to touch her side. (d)
[14:16] Pride of Eireann: As she retained the defensive posture,
having little time to move into something else, she scowled. He had
bested her this time. However, even in a real fight, Mairi seldom let
one strike cut her down. Though the blow would have admittedly been
very damaging, she took advantage of her position, aiming for Jack's
leg [whichever is opposite her sword hand] and went for a flat smack
against his lower thigh, in hope of making contact. "It is I who says
when the blade must be sheathed, a cara." For the first time, the
fitted nature of her vest seemed to bother her. Heaving with the
sudden amount of activity, she felt the tightness of it and quickly
pulled to loosen the laces of the shirt she wore beneath. It exposed a
generous amount of distraction for her husband-in-spirit. (d)
[she scowled. He had bested her this time. However, even in a real
fight, Mairi seldom let one strike cut her down. Though the blow would
have admittedly been very damaging, she took advantage of her
position, aiming for Jack's leg [whichever is opposite her sword hand]
and went for a flat smack against his lower thigh, in hope of making
contact. "It is I who says when the blade must be sheathed, a cara."
For the first time, the fitted nature of her vest seemed to bother
her. Heaving with the sudden amount of activity, she felt the
tightness of it and quickly pulled to loosen the laces of the shirt
she wore beneath. It exposed a generous amount of distraction for her
husband-in-spirit. (d)
[14:27] JackoftheFaerie: Only Jack's quick actions with his sword and
some fancy footwork kept Mairi's blade from reaching his flesh. "Tis
how ye are, anam cara, an' ye be knowin' tha I dae like fer ye to
lead...." She had him on the back foot, but would she retain the
initiative? At seeing her loosen her vest, Jack smiled softly. Ah, but
did she remembered that such a distraction that she presented now
worked both ways. "Dae ye be achin' an' need 'em takin' care off?"
There was a breif purse of his lips and faint suckling
[14:28] JackoftheFaerie: suckling sound and gesture with them. Then he
smiled wickled. Once more, footwork saw him close. This time, it was
his blade which he intended to use. The very tip of the blade was
swung upwards, hoping to catch the laces of her vest -- and cut the
laces clean through. (d)
[14:32] Pride of Eireann: She scowled as he teased her. He did make
contact with the laces as he had distracted her so, but she was quick
enough to step back. She felt a release as a few of the laces were cut
through, just towards the bottom. Once she was clear of the blade she
used her own in a way a weaker opponent would not have been able to--a
very quick, strong, staccato beat to get the blade away from her body
as the flat of her blade swung towards his offhand arm. "If ye
forefit, ye may have me," she said as she attempted to make the hip.
"I can go all day with that little problem, it's just that all the
other men stare an' I hardly know what to tell them." She raised a
brow to see his next move. (d)
[14:40] JackoftheFaerie: That Jack was fighting so well, with the
limited use of his strong hand, spoke well of her husband-in-spirit.
Jack tried to dance back just a touch, trying to get away from that
slice at his bicep. It wasn't a fully successful move. The very point
of Mairi's blade would slap into Jack's flesh just above his elbow.
There was a frown. If she managed to take his sword arm out of the
fight, Jack would be out of the fate as well. There was a smile,
however, "An' what makes ye think tha' I'll be yeldin' tae
[14:42] JackoftheFaerie: ye?" The smile grew a bit, turning rakish,
"Iffen I win, I shall be 'avin' ye as I please!" Jack studied the
remaining laces of her vest, wondering if he could make a game out of
slicing them through now and again. "An' I care nae tha' other man
stare at yer breast...... an' iffen they ask, be askin' 'em in return
iffen they want their own gals ta 'ave a bust like yers." (d)
[14:47] Pride of Eireann: The tap was light--she had pulled back
quickly, knowing how important it would be to be on the defense after
her first successful hit. Mairi was about to step back, but, seeing
him distracted by looking just where she wanted, tried for a tap on
the leg opposite his offhand. This time she tried lower, toward his
calf muscles, and as she leaned down, she offered an exquisite view
that might further distract them. "Ye'll yield to me because I wish
it. I wished for ye an' now ye are bound to make me happy." She
grinned at him. "I'll tell those men that...they sometimes seem taken
aback that the Ceannfort of Ulster is a woman. Perhaps they have never
seen one before." (d)
[14:53] JackoftheFaerie: This time, however, her blade would instead
be met with Jack's own in a quick block. Their blades now formed a
downward pointing 'V,' connecting only at the points. Once again,
there was that quick movement of Jack pressing his attack, once or
twice their blades would touch as jack made his move. But it was not
another tap that Jack had gone for: but another lace. Her vest
loosened just a touch more, as he gave her another rakish smile. "Ye
will be tha one w'o yields...." He grinned, and pressed the
[14:53] JackoftheFaerie: attack once more. This time it would be a
faint toward her off-arm, before the blade would touch her steel, dart
off, and go for a tag against her strong leg. (d)
[14:58] Pride of Eireann: "Ah! Ye fool!" She had managed to tap his
blade weakly before it touched her leg slightly, and she felt nearly
off-balance with the majority of her vest now unlaced. Stepping back a
few feet, she pointed her blade at him "Stop with that else I'm gonna
repay ye." Knowing he would do no such thing,she walked slowly forward
and then met his eyes--she offered him a nice tear into whatever
garment he was wearing if she could, careful that blade did not pierce
flesh--no matter how new, nice, or formal, then darted to his offhand
side in an attempt to smack him on the rear with the flat of her
blade. That would not be so gentle. When she was through, she stepped
back urgently and folded her hands behind her back, vest mostly
undone. "If it is that ye want me, ye should come and get me. Wouldn't
want me to sheath the sword without ye, aye?" There was that sly smile
again, the one that indicated that Mairi always won--even if she
didn't. (d)
[15:21] JackoftheFaerie: She could indeed be correct in knowing that
Jack most likely wouldn't stop teasing her by slicing through her
laces (and perhaps her belt), but it was how Jack was. As for the
slash in clothing, nothing the Irishman had worn for the spare was
nice, new, or formal. Jack's uniform was used only for the most formal
of cassions and most of his clothes were already stitched in places
and patched. Some, by Mairi's own hand. Another tear, one given in
play, could only be worn with pirde. Jack would grunt
[15:22] JackoftheFaerie: when she smacked his ass with the flat of her
blade. Jack arched an eyebrow at her and she could see that he was
thinking about returning the favor. While she may have stepped back
and clasped her hands behind her back -- no doubt arching her back to
thrust her bossom out toward him -- Jack knew she hadn't dropped her
where he was. And he stayed put. (d)
[15:26] Pride of Eireann: Grinning, she was proud of her consort. He
hadn't fallen for that trick. She, however, had enjoyed enough of the
victory alone, and now wished to repay him for the fun. Placing her
sword gently on the ground, she approached. "I'm victorious then, fer
I don't see ye trying to stop me." When she reached him, with a bit of
curiosity and mischief in those emerald eyes, the Ceannfort pressed
herself close to him, placed her hand on his chest--inadvertently
ripping his shirt a bit more (for good measure). She offered him a
kiss he couldn't confuse, and -- never shy with him -- went as far as
to wrap her leg around his, so that her meaning would be fully
understood. "Ye may sheath yer sword now, admiral," she offered after
breaking the kiss, looking up to him as she spoke in a voice low and
breathy enough to match the sea. Breathing deeply, she could feel his
body against hers with each breath. (d)
[[We backed up and reworked it a bit to allow for an appropriate rating]]
[15:40] JackoftheFaerie: Jack hadn't released his blade just yet,
having raised it just so the tip was poiting toward her chest. But
that smile grew more rakish and the blade dipped down. The top of the
blade game in contact with the bottom of her belt. A brief upward cut
and her belt would be cut through. Then Jack would move his blade
toward his side, touch it's tip in the ground, and let it fall from
his hand. There was a wicked grin. Would she continue the approach?
(d)
[15:48] Pride of Eireann: Of course she would. She continued with
everything as previously described, for when she pressed herself
close, the pressure of them together kept the garment up. There seemed
to be a bit of a fury to her kiss though, as she would not let his act
go unpunished before they would claim each other as prizes. Did he
remember so long ago when she had bitten his flesh? She did so again,
hopefully making an eager mark on his lower lip as she wrapped around
him, unable to restrain herself from utterly consuming his form. (d)
[
[15:56] JackoftheFaerie: Aye, Jack remembered when she had last taken
his lips between her teeth. The question was, did she remember that
Jack had torn his lip upon her teeth? As he did now? With her teeth
securing his teeth, Jack would gently move his head just so. Just
enough for her to rip his flesh, to taste his blood, and have it
settle on her skin. It was but a small mark to have and one of
passion. Jack wrapped his arms around and held her close as they
kissed. (d)
[16:00] Pride of Eireann: The memory was well alive in her mind, and
it produced a similar reaction this time as it had before. Completely
overcome with a nearly rabid need, Mairi stared up at Jack and issued
her order as she breathed heavily against him. She canted her head
slightly towards a large, flat rock--which would be an appropriate
surface. She could at least lean on it, facing the out to the sea as
she bent over... "Take me there," she ordered. Then she licked the
rusty tasting fluid on her lips very deliberately. "Now." (d)
Jack couldn't help but smile as he squeezed his arm gently around
Mairi's waist. Jack flashed her a smile, before turning back toward
the beach. As they drew closer, she would see that there was a long,
narrow box sitting on a narrow stone. Jack smiled softly as he looked
to her, "I got you a gift....." When they were close enough, the
Irishman would reach out and open the box. Sitting inside, the morning
sun would glint of a beautiful steel blade. Inside the
[11:52] JackoftheFaerie: box was a new sword for Mairi: it was a
basket-hilted claymore. She could see that it had been fashioned as an
almost exact duplicate of Jack's blade. Save that it had been cut in
both size and weight to be more manageable by a woman of Mairi's
stature. There was also a sheath for the blade as well. After propping
the box open, Jack stepped back to quietly watch Mairi's features. (d)
[11:56] Pride of Eireann: Mairi had been quieted only because she knew
that eventually she would be able to spar, as permitted by the healer.
Licking her lips in anticipation, the sea, as usual, did little to
quiet her--it only enhanced her ardor. Coming across the box, the
Ceannfort approached it with a surprised look on her face. She viewed
the sword for a full minute before even touching it. Presently, she
was wearing a practice sword--live steel, but old. She had left the
sharp and effective items mostly for those left defending Ulster. She
soon
[11:59] Pride of Eireann: switched out the swords, keeping the new one
sheathed for a while. This was the first basket hilt she'd ever used,
as most such swords were a bit large for her to be effective. She got
used to wearing it, closed the box, and walked around it a few times,
ceremoniously. "It looks a bit fancy fer me, a cara, but I may get
used to it." She was currently clad in plain brown breeches, a saffron
dyed chemise, and a fitted vest, eager for sword play. She looked at
Jack's face, imaginging how she would paint him when they went to
invade--and the specific send off she would give him. What is it she'd
be doing while she painted his face? A sly grin might be a clue. This
man deserved her love and her touch. Eventually,
[11:59] Pride of Eireann: Mairi drew the sword and admired the fold of
the blade. She swung it through the air a few times, getting used to
the hilt. (d)
[12:07] JackoftheFaerie: Jack leaned against the rock, as he watched
Mairi begin working with her blade. "Dae ye like it?" Only a good spar
would help make her get a true feel of the blade and the way it
behaved in her hand. Did his gifts prove how well he'd grown to know
her? There was a smile, "Had then make it after me own, cept cut down
ta where ye could manage it better." Aye, Jack admired her body and
the way it moved when she began practicing with her new blade. A sly
smile of his own formed as he watched her form.
[12:10] JackoftheFaerie: Jack remembered what Aislin had said about
Mairi being able to swordfight and knew how active it would be. It
would be a good way for her to loose weight, if she so desgined.
However, as Jack watched her, he realized the new form of Mairi's body
- the way she was gaining in all of the correct places, the way she
was growing more mothernly - was how he prefered her. (d)
[12:17] Pride of Eireann: She wasn't thinking about her body, or even
his for that matter as her eyes followed her own sword. Getting used
to it, she practiced a few more cuts that would be lethal were a
person present. "I'll really need to kill some Anglish to check it
out, a chuisle, but ye'll do." She held the weapon defensively, then
ran a finger along the flat of the blade, admiring it. She grinned at
the beauty of the blade. "Let's go then." Ready, she glared at him--as
she often did before taking him to bed. "I like fightin' ye. Don't go
easy on me now because of me condition, aye?" (d)
[12:26] JackoftheFaerie: There was no reply from her Consort, as he
unsheathed his own claymore. Lightly, he touched it against her own
blade with his. Gently, he ran his blade from the hilt of her blade up
it's length, over the point, and back toward the hilt on the other
side. It was a gentle motion, one letting the ringing sound of steel
echo over the beach. Jack shifted his stance, it was a subtle one, and
she could tell from how he held his body that was now ready for their
spar. The soft smile he gave her told her that
[12:26] JackoftheFaerie: much. Jack's eyes watched her own and she
would, see that he was returning her bedroom eyes with her own. (d)
[13:39] Pride of Eireann: Mairi's eyes followed the length of his
sword as he began to touch his claymore to hers. Following the ringing
sound, she pressed against his blade with their own, leading them in a
half circle so that they were standing opposite. She kept her
gaze--which might be construed as distracting it was so blatantly full
of desire--fixed upon him, watching his eyes. When Mairi was ready,
she pointed the weapon towards him and then prepared. Generally, and
specifically in sword fighting, Mairi was somewhat aggressive. She
moved toward him, blade held defensively in case he chose to come
forward. She was testing him: her eyes on his, hoping he'd look before
he'd issue a strike. (d)
[13:57] JackoftheFaerie: As the Irishman slowly circle with Mairi, his
eyes would never her own. Jack offered a slow smile upon his features,
"Are ye ready ta be takin' yer sword?" There was a slow smile,
wondering if he remembered their time amongst the waves of
Dunseverick. Did she remember what he had said then? Jack took a few
steps back allowing Mairi to advance on him. As for showing where he
was going to strike? His eyes never left her own. When at last there
came the ringing of blades, it would be the Irishman who moved
[13:59] JackoftheFaerie: first. The Irishman's slice split the air.
The flat of the blade was going straight toward Mairi's sword arm. And
his eyes had never left her own. (d)
[14:04] Pride of Eireann: The Ceannfort was distracted by her
Consort's comment. She did in fact remember what he had said, and she
let slip a wicked grin at the memory of that day. He was surprisingly
fast, even though she'd seen him fight before. Mairi's eyes left his
to counter. Swiftly, Mairi turned the front of her body toward the
incoming blade and parried, placing the flat of her blade to meet his.
Though she was fast enough for the block, the angle was sloppy--her
off hand had to ascend to steady the far reach of the blade, else it
would give and she'd get tapped. The defense worked, but left her
vulnerable. It was not something she would have done had she more than
one opponent. She arched her back slightly to give more weight to the
blade, and more balance to herself. The next move would have to be
his, though the passion in her eyes, unbridled, indicated that she
wanted to lead him in every way. (d)
[14:12] JackoftheFaerie: Jack's smile stayed an easy one, as he
watched how she reacted to his blade and watched how she fought. "Ye
look as though ye are already ta be sheathin' yer blade....." Jack
said, letting her have time to strengthen her defense. Once again the
Irsihman would press his attack, again slicing with the flat of his
blade toward her sword arm. Should she counter with her blade, there
another ringing of blades touched only breifly before the blade darted
toward Mairi's off-side. Had she gone to keep her
[14:12] JackoftheFaerie: inital defensive posture, the one of bracing
her off hand against a strike to her sword arm? If so, t'would be a
clear path for the flat of jack's blade to touch her side. (d)
[14:16] Pride of Eireann: As she retained the defensive posture,
having little time to move into something else, she scowled. He had
bested her this time. However, even in a real fight, Mairi seldom let
one strike cut her down. Though the blow would have admittedly been
very damaging, she took advantage of her position, aiming for Jack's
leg [whichever is opposite her sword hand] and went for a flat smack
against his lower thigh, in hope of making contact. "It is I who says
when the blade must be sheathed, a cara." For the first time, the
fitted nature of her vest seemed to bother her. Heaving with the
sudden amount of activity, she felt the tightness of it and quickly
pulled to loosen the laces of the shirt she wore beneath. It exposed a
generous amount of distraction for her husband-in-spirit. (d)
[she scowled. He had bested her this time. However, even in a real
fight, Mairi seldom let one strike cut her down. Though the blow would
have admittedly been very damaging, she took advantage of her
position, aiming for Jack's leg [whichever is opposite her sword hand]
and went for a flat smack against his lower thigh, in hope of making
contact. "It is I who says when the blade must be sheathed, a cara."
For the first time, the fitted nature of her vest seemed to bother
her. Heaving with the sudden amount of activity, she felt the
tightness of it and quickly pulled to loosen the laces of the shirt
she wore beneath. It exposed a generous amount of distraction for her
husband-in-spirit. (d)
[14:27] JackoftheFaerie: Only Jack's quick actions with his sword and
some fancy footwork kept Mairi's blade from reaching his flesh. "Tis
how ye are, anam cara, an' ye be knowin' tha I dae like fer ye to
lead...." She had him on the back foot, but would she retain the
initiative? At seeing her loosen her vest, Jack smiled softly. Ah, but
did she remembered that such a distraction that she presented now
worked both ways. "Dae ye be achin' an' need 'em takin' care off?"
There was a breif purse of his lips and faint suckling
[14:28] JackoftheFaerie: suckling sound and gesture with them. Then he
smiled wickled. Once more, footwork saw him close. This time, it was
his blade which he intended to use. The very tip of the blade was
swung upwards, hoping to catch the laces of her vest -- and cut the
laces clean through. (d)
[14:32] Pride of Eireann: She scowled as he teased her. He did make
contact with the laces as he had distracted her so, but she was quick
enough to step back. She felt a release as a few of the laces were cut
through, just towards the bottom. Once she was clear of the blade she
used her own in a way a weaker opponent would not have been able to--a
very quick, strong, staccato beat to get the blade away from her body
as the flat of her blade swung towards his offhand arm. "If ye
forefit, ye may have me," she said as she attempted to make the hip.
"I can go all day with that little problem, it's just that all the
other men stare an' I hardly know what to tell them." She raised a
brow to see his next move. (d)
[14:40] JackoftheFaerie: That Jack was fighting so well, with the
limited use of his strong hand, spoke well of her husband-in-spirit.
Jack tried to dance back just a touch, trying to get away from that
slice at his bicep. It wasn't a fully successful move. The very point
of Mairi's blade would slap into Jack's flesh just above his elbow.
There was a frown. If she managed to take his sword arm out of the
fight, Jack would be out of the fate as well. There was a smile,
however, "An' what makes ye think tha' I'll be yeldin' tae
[14:42] JackoftheFaerie: ye?" The smile grew a bit, turning rakish,
"Iffen I win, I shall be 'avin' ye as I please!" Jack studied the
remaining laces of her vest, wondering if he could make a game out of
slicing them through now and again. "An' I care nae tha' other man
stare at yer breast...... an' iffen they ask, be askin' 'em in return
iffen they want their own gals ta 'ave a bust like yers." (d)
[14:47] Pride of Eireann: The tap was light--she had pulled back
quickly, knowing how important it would be to be on the defense after
her first successful hit. Mairi was about to step back, but, seeing
him distracted by looking just where she wanted, tried for a tap on
the leg opposite his offhand. This time she tried lower, toward his
calf muscles, and as she leaned down, she offered an exquisite view
that might further distract them. "Ye'll yield to me because I wish
it. I wished for ye an' now ye are bound to make me happy." She
grinned at him. "I'll tell those men that...they sometimes seem taken
aback that the Ceannfort of Ulster is a woman. Perhaps they have never
seen one before." (d)
[14:53] JackoftheFaerie: This time, however, her blade would instead
be met with Jack's own in a quick block. Their blades now formed a
downward pointing 'V,' connecting only at the points. Once again,
there was that quick movement of Jack pressing his attack, once or
twice their blades would touch as jack made his move. But it was not
another tap that Jack had gone for: but another lace. Her vest
loosened just a touch more, as he gave her another rakish smile. "Ye
will be tha one w'o yields...." He grinned, and pressed the
[14:53] JackoftheFaerie: attack once more. This time it would be a
faint toward her off-arm, before the blade would touch her steel, dart
off, and go for a tag against her strong leg. (d)
[14:58] Pride of Eireann: "Ah! Ye fool!" She had managed to tap his
blade weakly before it touched her leg slightly, and she felt nearly
off-balance with the majority of her vest now unlaced. Stepping back a
few feet, she pointed her blade at him "Stop with that else I'm gonna
repay ye." Knowing he would do no such thing,she walked slowly forward
and then met his eyes--she offered him a nice tear into whatever
garment he was wearing if she could, careful that blade did not pierce
flesh--no matter how new, nice, or formal, then darted to his offhand
side in an attempt to smack him on the rear with the flat of her
blade. That would not be so gentle. When she was through, she stepped
back urgently and folded her hands behind her back, vest mostly
undone. "If it is that ye want me, ye should come and get me. Wouldn't
want me to sheath the sword without ye, aye?" There was that sly smile
again, the one that indicated that Mairi always won--even if she
didn't. (d)
[15:21] JackoftheFaerie: She could indeed be correct in knowing that
Jack most likely wouldn't stop teasing her by slicing through her
laces (and perhaps her belt), but it was how Jack was. As for the
slash in clothing, nothing the Irishman had worn for the spare was
nice, new, or formal. Jack's uniform was used only for the most formal
of cassions and most of his clothes were already stitched in places
and patched. Some, by Mairi's own hand. Another tear, one given in
play, could only be worn with pirde. Jack would grunt
[15:22] JackoftheFaerie: when she smacked his ass with the flat of her
blade. Jack arched an eyebrow at her and she could see that he was
thinking about returning the favor. While she may have stepped back
and clasped her hands behind her back -- no doubt arching her back to
thrust her bossom out toward him -- Jack knew she hadn't dropped her
where he was. And he stayed put. (d)
[15:26] Pride of Eireann: Grinning, she was proud of her consort. He
hadn't fallen for that trick. She, however, had enjoyed enough of the
victory alone, and now wished to repay him for the fun. Placing her
sword gently on the ground, she approached. "I'm victorious then, fer
I don't see ye trying to stop me." When she reached him, with a bit of
curiosity and mischief in those emerald eyes, the Ceannfort pressed
herself close to him, placed her hand on his chest--inadvertently
ripping his shirt a bit more (for good measure). She offered him a
kiss he couldn't confuse, and -- never shy with him -- went as far as
to wrap her leg around his, so that her meaning would be fully
understood. "Ye may sheath yer sword now, admiral," she offered after
breaking the kiss, looking up to him as she spoke in a voice low and
breathy enough to match the sea. Breathing deeply, she could feel his
body against hers with each breath. (d)
[[We backed up and reworked it a bit to allow for an appropriate rating]]
[15:40] JackoftheFaerie: Jack hadn't released his blade just yet,
having raised it just so the tip was poiting toward her chest. But
that smile grew more rakish and the blade dipped down. The top of the
blade game in contact with the bottom of her belt. A brief upward cut
and her belt would be cut through. Then Jack would move his blade
toward his side, touch it's tip in the ground, and let it fall from
his hand. There was a wicked grin. Would she continue the approach?
(d)
[15:48] Pride of Eireann: Of course she would. She continued with
everything as previously described, for when she pressed herself
close, the pressure of them together kept the garment up. There seemed
to be a bit of a fury to her kiss though, as she would not let his act
go unpunished before they would claim each other as prizes. Did he
remember so long ago when she had bitten his flesh? She did so again,
hopefully making an eager mark on his lower lip as she wrapped around
him, unable to restrain herself from utterly consuming his form. (d)
[
[15:56] JackoftheFaerie: Aye, Jack remembered when she had last taken
his lips between her teeth. The question was, did she remember that
Jack had torn his lip upon her teeth? As he did now? With her teeth
securing his teeth, Jack would gently move his head just so. Just
enough for her to rip his flesh, to taste his blood, and have it
settle on her skin. It was but a small mark to have and one of
passion. Jack wrapped his arms around and held her close as they
kissed. (d)
[16:00] Pride of Eireann: The memory was well alive in her mind, and
it produced a similar reaction this time as it had before. Completely
overcome with a nearly rabid need, Mairi stared up at Jack and issued
her order as she breathed heavily against him. She canted her head
slightly towards a large, flat rock--which would be an appropriate
surface. She could at least lean on it, facing the out to the sea as
she bent over... "Take me there," she ordered. Then she licked the
rusty tasting fluid on her lips very deliberately. "Now." (d)