The first fellow came at me quickly. I wasn't quite ready when I saw his hand move, and the loud 'CRACK!' landed hard and rang in my ears. I think I squeaked. A bit embarrassing, but I couldn't help it. I tried to squirm out of the way of the next blow, but that didn't work. He swatted me again, which made me giggle, then followed it up with a solid SMACK before I could recover. As he trotted off victoriously to make way for the next, I had to smile- that one had been a good hit.
His hand moved swiftly, cracking down hard. I bit back a thoroughly undignified yelp and winced, shifting a bit to ease the pain. Another blow fell, and I gritted my teeth. I tried to prepare for the next, eyeing him carefully to anticipate his movement. Comments from the peanut gallery, the others watching from the porch, kept distracting me and made me laugh. He caught me across the back of the hand when I tried to intercept the next strike, and I know I turned around and glared at him, though I don't think he saw.
Surely the next wouldn't be so hard. Pfft. She paused, just waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting... the anticipation I think was worse than when she finally struck. She came at me swinging, and startled me enough that she landed a solid blow before I could even react. Butterfly, my eye. That shot stung. I was getting more warmed up now though, and the sting was lessening with each blow.
Another guy up, another smack. He had quick hands, and had seemed to enjoy toying with me the previous week. Touch, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap STRIKE! Actually, it was a soothing sort of rhythm, and let me anticipate when the blow would fall. If you relax into it, it doesn't sting so much. This week though, he was much more forceful, and his blow rang solidly in my ear, along with his low chuckle when I apologized for some reason. Another shot, and he was out as well.
I was really heating up, almost overheating at this point, my breath shallow, my glasses fogging as my skin flushed warmer. I twisted my hair up into a knot, trying to keep it out of the way, but it fell back into disarray with the first shot. More playful smacks, more repeated blows... I had lost count, but it didn't really matter. Despite the sting, the reddening of my skin, I was really enjoying myself.
The Professor was next. He strode toward me, his size alone intimidating. But it was the glint in his eye that had me really worried. I tried to prepare myself, and know I tensed while trying not to, but when the first of his blows fell, it still shivered throughout my entire body. Does it make me weird that I enjoy this? Another crashed down, his hand moving too fast for me to follow. I braced myself for the next, worrying my lip as he let the tension build before his next strike. He stroked almost gently, looking directly at me all the while, which was probably some warning that I completely missed. CRACK! I know I whimpered, but hopefully it was low enough that nobody heard. I took a deep breath, the scent of woodsmoke filling my senses as I tried to steady, to ground myself, willing the pain away. His hand dropped, and I tried to stifle a moan as it found its target. He sort of growled at me, something about blocking, but my mind was elsewhere. Finally he seemed to have had enough, or at least that's what I taunted under my breath, and he let someone else take his place.
I wiggled a bit, trying to ease the ache. I think I managed to stifle most of my groans behind clenched teeth, but I know I couldn't keep from edging ever-so-slowly away. The blows hard were enough to have sweat breaking out all over my body, and I could feel myself trembling. No way was I going to be able to take the rest of this, I was certain... and then it started all over again.
But I survived! Ok, so it wasn't really all that one-sided. This was the announcement Jake posted:
"The Great Bunny Bash: As some of you may know, tomorrow is Brandi Lynn's
birthday. In honor of this auspicious occasion, she will be subjected
to the gauntlet of 1 match per year she has walked the Earth. Whether
you've been a regular Sunday participant, need an excuse to come out and
train, or just need an opportunity to come out and swing a sword
around, come out and join us tomorrow in celebrating with us by beating
the crap out of her :D"
So that's the idea- one match for every year you have been around- and I've been around a lot longer I think than any of the other kids at Body & Blade. But in between those bouts described above, I did get in enough shots of my own to win more than half my matches. So yay me!But holy cow was I tired after. Professor meaniehead (yes, I'm 12) didn't give me a break at all this time- probably so we could get the matches all in before it got too dark again. lol. I'm glad though, I didn't want it to go yet another week. We did strichens, criss-crossing wheel cuts, 4in1s, and butterflies before the birthday smackings, and I think we were all trying to mix in some of the new stuff during the matches. I failed rather spectacularly at attempting to krump an ochs. Luckily my partner was just as new at it as I was so didn't come back with a painful lesson, but it was still an embarrassingly good illustration as to why we don't do that. I also had difficulties coming up with any kind of solution to someone grabbing my sword, other than to hold on doggedly for dear life. At least I didn't get conked much with my own sword, but still. I've no idea when, because it all kind of blurred together into one big beating, but I also got this lovely souvenir, which I'm still sporting two weeks later, though it's now a darker, lovely shade of puce. Note to self- parrying a sword with your forearm is not such a good idea.
