Foil Round 1: Moreno vs. Prescott

They say you never get a second chance at first impressions. Not true. The fact I am here, in the first round of another fencing event, once again with high expectations of myself, goes a long way to disproving that thought. I am, after all, very much acquainted with where you would stick a sharper version of this, when the time came. Again, I sit, waiting, stony faced, looking at the clock, the face of my opponent. Prescott. Yet another District One girl I have never met. Seemed to be a running trend. No matter, for the most part, they are beneath me. This one would be no different, I am sure of that.

We two were called to the strip upon which our dance of faux-death would take place. I look condescendingly at the girl, Karma, before snarling slightly as I pull the meshed face guard down, lightly flexing the foil, before swishing it back and forth, adjusting my grip, getting used to it's weight, settling into a fairly standard guard, tip raised upward, arm in front of me, my free hand at the small of my back, so as not to present another target. I say nothing. I never do before I engage in this sort of thing. Of course, normally, losing to me would mean your death... The starting beep signalled the opening of the bout, and immediately, I dart forward, slotting a strike in, just ahead of Karma, the buzzer favouring me this time. A brief disengage, before I renew my assault...

[dice=20]

... My strike is clean, slotting through to impact her shoulder, once again, the buzzer sounding in my favour. And like my first épée round, I have streaked into an early lead. Two nil after two exchanges. I can't hope for a better start. Of course, I fully expect to win. After all, I am a Moreno. That same family that for the past two years, has been a power in The Hunger Games. The same family that throws it's children together, gives them knives and tells... No... Orders us to kill each other. What hope does this girl have?

Karma seemed distracted by something. Anger perhaps? That would explain her rather ragged foil technique. I can't fault her ferocity, even if it's very much brutish, somewhat at odds with the weapon we're using. She takes me by surprise, catching me in the chest with a slash somehow. I make a mental note to not allow her to get the jump on me like that again, as we separate, and I press forward, feinting a lunge for her for her leading shoulder before lunging again...

[dice=20]

... aiming for her chest, but my feint has already initiated her counter. I'm still thinking épée, and I'm enraged to that she has the point, and I earn myself another jab. I separate from her once again, my fury at myself for making such an error redoubling. And after such a shambolic display of fencing on her part too...

Gah... Filler... Sleepiness...

[dice=20]

Shoulder, point, 3-3.

Probably some haughty nonsense about Elspeth not giving into emotions, because hypocrisy is a wonderful thing...

[dice=20]

... Insert totally contradictory section with her getting annoyed at her being parried. Way to go there Els.

These two really don't like scoring point do they?

[dice=20]

Elspeth's muse likes sleeping as well.

Bleh, muse, Y U NO work...

[dice=20]

... Elspeth Y U NO HIT. 6-5 Karma