[Open] Of Gifted Blood

"So... 'just let your hands do as they may'... What the hell does that mean, dad?"

Just as when he actually got the sword, Jacob kept muttering to himself about this new turn of events in his life. Every time he called his father up to ask when he was finally going to come to the island to tell him what was going on, his father would have some cryptic message and reassurance that he would arrive once some matters had been settled. Jacob was the last person who liked needlessly riddle-y responses and vague statements, and his father would be no exception when it came to his irritation.

"... You gonna tell me to believe in the heart of the cards next...?"

He held his new sword in both of his hands as he stood out in the middle of the Sports Field, letting his eyes wander over the sheathed weapon. His expression morphed between curiosity, irritation, wonder, and disbelief. Never before had he ever dreamed that he would be handling a real-life sword, yet here he was, about to practice with it (For lack of a better term).

"... *sigh* Well, you haven't been wrong yet, dad..."

Holding his new sword, a katana of all things, out in front of him parallel to the ground, he gripped the sheathe right below the guard with his left hand and held the grip proper with his right hand.

"... So lets see what you mean..."

This blade had forged in a mystic forge of some kind, by the hand of a giant blacksmith with a terrible attitude. He had asked what he sought in a sword. When he could not find the answer, he asked to practice with a spare, already-made weapon to feel it out. When he had let his instincts took over, he knew what he wanted.

The product was a katana of elegant simplicity. It lacked intricate markings or symbols, as Jacob had no idea what he would have put on there anyway. But the sheathe had been requested to be hardened and durable, strong enough to be a weapon unto itself. And Jacob asked for a kind of... lock on the sheathe, binding the sword into the sheathe until he unlocked it. Of course the blade would be given the utmost attention. But why the sheathe?

Jacob wondered why he asked for that too, and he supposed his instincts would show him the answer out on the Sports Field. Closing his eyes and breathing deep, he repeated the little calming ritual he was seemed so fond of before using the new weapon.

The moment he held that placeholder weapon back in the forge, Jacob had been made to know that he was... lacking in proper technique. He held the sword wrong at first, but quickly adjusted to a more acceptable hold. His stance had been vulnerable and unstable, until he adjusted his footing. He had very little clue as to what each part of the weapon was called, or even what to call a particular weapon, until he had been informed of it. Everything showed his inexperience. But the moment he got in his "zone", his inexperienced faded in the face of immense grace and power that seemingly came from nowhere.

Case in point: the way he held the sword out on the Field. It was far from a combat-ready stance. It felt more in line with a ceremonial grip, like he was presenting it to someone, more than anything else.

His controlled breathing made him feel like the world around him was slowing, and quieting. It was peaceful and serene, and he could feel every slight change in the wind's direction. No thoughts passed through his head, and he felt at one with his body. His right hand fell from the grip to hang languidly at his side, leaving only his left hand holding the sheathe in a reverse grip.

He felt a muscle twitch in his arm and his eyes flew open. His left arm cocked backward in a downward arc, then swung the reverse gripped sheathe and sword upward in an uppercut motion as his body followed suit. The movement was blindingly fast, and vertical shock wave flew out from his attack, cutting a deep groove in the ground that traveled outward from him.

Jacob drew the sword downward and horizontally again before swinging it and his body in a graceful circle that blew wind all around him, pushing the grasses away from him in a perfect circle.

The sword was locked securely in the sheathe as he expertly used the sheathe itself as a weapon, swinging it in lightning quick and fluid arcs through the air. All while keeping it in a reverse grip in his left hand.

A few more twirls and the sheathe was held on his left hip, where it would hang properly and he took up a more traditional stance with his feet spread wide and his right hang finding its place on the grip again.

In the fastest motion yet, he unlocked the sword and drew it in a single slash, like he had done accidentally in the powers classes. The wind seemed to obey his command and a gentle breeze blew out from him, only to followed by a massive surge of pressure that had a few trees bending in its wake on the edges of the field.

".....Woah..."

Jacob seemed the most surprised over his display as he found himself frozen in disbelief, still holding the sword outward.

It was not like he was not aware of himself while he was wielding his sword like a samurai. Jacob was still himself and he fully remembered the whole display. But during it, he had no thoughts in his head whatsoever. His body had been moving automatically and on instinct alone. The moment he stopped, however, his brain kicked back in and his mind was abuzz with questions and wonder. The world was noisy and filled with sound again, and time was moving at it normal pace once more. He was out of his zone and back in the real world.

In the real world there were other people too, and the sound of crunching crash alerted Jacob to the presence of at least one other soul. He nearly dropped his new sword in surprised and hastily tried to put his sword back in the sheathe without stabbing himself. In stark contrast to his grace previously, he fumbled with just trying to put the sword back.

"Oh! Uh... H-Hello there."

He finally managed to get the sword back in its place and locked it again.

"Just out, uh, practicing. With my sword. That I just got. And never knew I could use before now. W-What brings you out there?"

"Whaddya mean 'the same'--Oooh."

Jacob was so not used to being in the world of swordsmen, that he almost forgot that the Academy possessed an unusually high number of sword and martial weapon users amongst its student. Not until the young man started drawing his own blade did it even cross his mind that there might be others who would take notice of his new found abilities. Still, Jacob was pretty impressed by the young man's sword anyway.

"Yeah. Heh. I'm just as impressed as you are."

He blushed a little, embarrassed that he was apparently good enough to warrant admiration, even without his own knowledge.

"Well, I got it about a week ago. It's been sitting in my apartment while I gathered the courage to try it out. I mean, there aren't many reasons to start swinging a sword around nowadays."

The blade locked in place, he held it casually by the hilt once more in his left hand, letting it hang at his side. Every so often, he would steal glances at it, still surprised that he was the one using it of all people. Then his gaze drifted to the deep groove he made in the ground with just his sheathe.

"God. Did I do that?"

Kneeling down to the ground, Jacob felt out the groove in the ground he had made by just using his sheathe as a weapon. He better understood why he requested a hardened sheathe from the weapon maker. Whatever was telling his body to use the sword could easily just use the sheathe as a weapon, and he honestly felt some relief because of that. A blunt sheathe seemed marginally less fatal than the sword itself.

"Heh. You think I could be a samurai or something? That would be pretty cool."

Standing back up, and brushing his knees off a bit, Jacob approached the young man with his hand out.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced. Jacob, first-time sword user."

Anyone in his past would have guessed Jacob to be the last person to be an expert in any kind of martial weaponry. His body may have been fit and he was intimidating in his own right when he wanted to be, but he avoided fights for the most part and violence just was not in his nature.

"You mentioned that you've been usin' your sword for a while now? You think you got any pointers for me?