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ajremixThese series of shorts were inspired by these (under 'getting under the skin'). An attempt, of sorts, to understand the Sol/Ky relationship and all the strings that may be attached.
Title: Underneath it All: Leave Your Sword at the Door
Series: Guilty Gear
Rating: PG
Word Count: 649
Character: Ky and Sol
Summary: Before Sol leaves the Order. Sparing without swords.
The sword is the most important part of a soldier. It was the part, in training for the Holy Order, that you were told was a ‘living extension’. During the course of training one was told to always keep it by you, never let it out of your sight, never let it drop, never let another touch it and, most importantly, never let it go unattended.
Their creed went like this: “This is my sword. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My sword is my life. Without me, my sword is useless. Without my sword, I am useless.” And so on it went, drilling into the very fabric of one’s being how important the sword was to them, how vital it was to the very cause of hope for mankind.
And still he was surprised to find Sol, sitting in the armory, taking care of his sword.
In swordplay there are two kinds of fighters. The ones with grace, their movements fluid and subtle and precise. And the ones with strength, straightforward, overpowering and full of aggression. Sol took the latter category to an entirely unforeseen level.
It wasn’t that he lacked the flowing style. Ky knew how the man moved, like a predator, sure and stealthy, a snake that had struck you before you even realized it. It was just his sword form in general. Sol preferred a reverse grip on his blade (a style not encouraged by the instructors of the Holy Order) and his superior strength and speed allowed him to bash his opponents into submission. The bulging muscles in his arms were more than capable of swinging his blade as he would (and often did) a fist, a nonexistent weight-extension of his body. Half the time he didn’t use his sword as a form of attack, mainly as a distraction.
The way he abused it in training made Ky wince. Sol went through swords faster than anyone else Ky had ever seen, so it was more than a little surprising to see the large man devoutly caring for it.
He was in the process of polishing it, the blonde noticed with an odd twinge that half the tarnished hilt reflected like an uncorrupted gilded plate. A whetstone sat close by, well used judging from the markings on it and not one given out by the armory, Ky noted. Though the man by the armory window saluted to the blonde, Sol didn’t appear to notice his entrance.
“I’m surprised to see you here.” Ky said dryly. Sol’s polishing didn’t miss a stroke.
“Have to come down sometime.”
“Oh?” Slightly irritated by the obvious answer, Ky crossed his arms. “So you’ve finally decided to listen?”
“I do what I want.”
“That’s not an attitude you should be having.”
“Too bad for you.”
He felt the muscles at the small of his back clench, gradually the tension would claw its way up between his shoulders and that never led to a good thing. With Sol in particular. “Your actions are detrimental to this organization and what it stands for.” He growled.
“Leave your sword at the door, boy.” The older man returned, voice dangerously low- Ky thought he saw a change in the pressure of the polishing though he didn’t pay it much attention. “No fighting in the armory, remember?”
Blue eyes narrowed at him. “Since when did you start following the rules?”
“Whenever they’re actually useful.”
“If you don’t watch it, I’ll personally ensure you’re discharged from service.”
Sol grinned up at him from under his headpiece. “You might want to consider bringing your sword out and sharpening it a bit. Seems a little dull to me.”
Ky glared at him a moment longer. Then, with his perfect military precision, about-faced and stormed out of the armory. Whatever it was that he had gone down there for in the first place long forgotten.
Title: Underneath it All: Leave Your Sword at the Door
Series: Guilty Gear
Rating: PG
Word Count: 649
Character: Ky and Sol
Summary: Before Sol leaves the Order. Sparing without swords.
The sword is the most important part of a soldier. It was the part, in training for the Holy Order, that you were told was a ‘living extension’. During the course of training one was told to always keep it by you, never let it out of your sight, never let it drop, never let another touch it and, most importantly, never let it go unattended.
Their creed went like this: “This is my sword. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My sword is my life. Without me, my sword is useless. Without my sword, I am useless.” And so on it went, drilling into the very fabric of one’s being how important the sword was to them, how vital it was to the very cause of hope for mankind.
And still he was surprised to find Sol, sitting in the armory, taking care of his sword.
In swordplay there are two kinds of fighters. The ones with grace, their movements fluid and subtle and precise. And the ones with strength, straightforward, overpowering and full of aggression. Sol took the latter category to an entirely unforeseen level.
It wasn’t that he lacked the flowing style. Ky knew how the man moved, like a predator, sure and stealthy, a snake that had struck you before you even realized it. It was just his sword form in general. Sol preferred a reverse grip on his blade (a style not encouraged by the instructors of the Holy Order) and his superior strength and speed allowed him to bash his opponents into submission. The bulging muscles in his arms were more than capable of swinging his blade as he would (and often did) a fist, a nonexistent weight-extension of his body. Half the time he didn’t use his sword as a form of attack, mainly as a distraction.
The way he abused it in training made Ky wince. Sol went through swords faster than anyone else Ky had ever seen, so it was more than a little surprising to see the large man devoutly caring for it.
He was in the process of polishing it, the blonde noticed with an odd twinge that half the tarnished hilt reflected like an uncorrupted gilded plate. A whetstone sat close by, well used judging from the markings on it and not one given out by the armory, Ky noted. Though the man by the armory window saluted to the blonde, Sol didn’t appear to notice his entrance.
“I’m surprised to see you here.” Ky said dryly. Sol’s polishing didn’t miss a stroke.
“Have to come down sometime.”
“Oh?” Slightly irritated by the obvious answer, Ky crossed his arms. “So you’ve finally decided to listen?”
“I do what I want.”
“That’s not an attitude you should be having.”
“Too bad for you.”
He felt the muscles at the small of his back clench, gradually the tension would claw its way up between his shoulders and that never led to a good thing. With Sol in particular. “Your actions are detrimental to this organization and what it stands for.” He growled.
“Leave your sword at the door, boy.” The older man returned, voice dangerously low- Ky thought he saw a change in the pressure of the polishing though he didn’t pay it much attention. “No fighting in the armory, remember?”
Blue eyes narrowed at him. “Since when did you start following the rules?”
“Whenever they’re actually useful.”
“If you don’t watch it, I’ll personally ensure you’re discharged from service.”
Sol grinned up at him from under his headpiece. “You might want to consider bringing your sword out and sharpening it a bit. Seems a little dull to me.”
Ky glared at him a moment longer. Then, with his perfect military precision, about-faced and stormed out of the armory. Whatever it was that he had gone down there for in the first place long forgotten.
