Have you ever believed in a mirage?

[quickdrawlatino]

[Its bleeding early in the morning - the sun is but  short while away from rising. And where is Sam at this time? Training intensely! But not with his sword surprisingly - though it lies close by. Sam's on the deck of the ship - letting loose with a series of punches and kicks. What kind of style is he using? Its difficult to place - there's plenty of capoeira and judo peppered in - especially with how he's tossing around the dummies he's set up pretty darned hard. As in more than one. It seems he likes to practice on multiple targets at once.]

Mmmh... nothing like a good morning warm up...

[He rolls his neck in a relaxed manner as he flicks his sheathed sword up from the ground with his foot and snatches it out of the air as it dropped - resting it along his shoulders as he watched the sun rise. He pauses to look over at you with a raised eyebrow.]

I didn't think anyone else would bother waking up this early.

Comments

[armored_fruit]

And as the dawn creeps up from over the horizon, Jetstream Sam may notice a man clad in the swishiest of Britannian Military Fatigues, swinging what appears to be a claymore about, shifting to various stances and position!

"Indeed!" Isaac Sinclair replies cheerfully. "It is the provenance and delight of all good men of breeding to cultivate their skill in armed combat 'ere the son climbs over the horizon! Ho ho!"

[quickdrawlatino]

[Now this had Sam's interest. Oh yes. Another swordsman? Now this was unexpected.]

I suppose. But then skill can surpass any form of bloodline with enough training.

[An entire lifetime of combat for example. He was going to take a look at the Claymore as its swung.]

You put a lot of strength into your swings, and you have a sharp eye... but you seem to rush a lot with your movements... impatient I take it?

[armored_fruit]

"No impatience, my fellow blademaster, but honed aggression! The aggression of the hallowed Sinclair Family, which has aged over a thousand generations like fine wine!"

He eyes Sam's technique.

"I see that you gear your fighting style towards fighting many opponents at once!"

[quickdrawlatino]

I've learned how to fight single opponents already... and get plenty of practice with it as well.

[He shrugs as he slowly draws his blade from its sheath.]

But against several opponents.. well.. one always has to expect surprises...

[With that he swings his blade as he turns around - carving several of the dummies he set up in half. He chuckles softly.]

You are an adept... but I wouldn't say you're a master. Not for a long time. A man can master his blade, but it'll take a lot longer to master himself. And you?

[He gives Isaac a pointed look before laughing at him.]

[armored_fruit]

Isaac prickles at the man's laughter.

"How dare you claim that I am unable to master anything, you spice-tongued cur! From the wars against the Saxon menace to the battle of Normandy, from Agincourt to Waterloo, the brave scions of the Sinclair family have been the masters of the battlefield, fighting with this–"

He raises the blade up the sky one-handed, with no sense of strain.

"–The Sinclair Family Sword!"

He jabs a finger at Jetstream Sam.

"So then, rude warrior! I challenge you–"

He clears his throat.

"–To a competition of self-mastery!!! Via several contests, we shall demonstrate our skills in self-control and internal discipline, and see who is the true Master...of the self!"

[quickdrawlatino]

[Now that had Sam laugh pretty loudly. He sets down his sword and spreads his arms in a distinctly familiar - and taunting - manner that screamed 'COME AT ME BRO!']

Well, I've never turned down a challenge before.

[armored_fruit]

"Excellent!" Isaac replies, grinning ear to ear. "You may yet be a worthy opponent, strange swordmaster!"

He hefts his blade. "Let there be three challenges to test our mutual self-discipline, and let the one who winds the most of them be held superior! The first challenge–!"

He points the sword right at you.

"–Is the challenge of cuteness!"

Huh?

[quickdrawlatino]

... Well that's a challenge I think I will pass on.

['Cuteness' Really? Sam's just going to shake his head here.]

[armored_fruit]

Isaac frowns. He truly frowns a graceful frown, the patented, inherited Sinclair Family Frown.

"Then what of a meditation contest?" He suggests.

"We both find an isolated area exposed to the elements...and thereupon meditate upon them meaning of our swords! The one whose focus is least disrupted, gains the most transcendental insights, and composes the most eloquent poetry shall be hailed the true master of self-discipline!"