by Nayt on Tue Aug 24, 2010 2:51 pm
"I-- um, I dunno," Akizets replied, a little meeker in embarrassment.
Eld was embarrassed. She was embarrassed. Both for the same reasons. Akizets didn't quite let go because of that, though. It just wasn't reason enough! Even though Sarah and Emily were both giving them coy smiles, as if they knew something that she and Eld did not . . .
"She probably could if she wanted to bad enough," Akizets admitted. "Sarah's super tough."
No, really. Sarah was, like, ultra super mondo tough. Akizets could perfectly imagine her breaking bricks with her bare hands and thinking nothing of it! This wasn't actually too far from the truth. Sarah knew a bit of karate, and she could break boards and even a couple of bricks, provided she had the chance to concentrate.
It was a weird and fun little fact that half of Eld's friends were easily capable of defending themselves to the death. Sarah knew karate. Toushikyo (apparently) knew kendo. Etsu was a tiny little tank with a penchant for sharp pointy objects and an intimate knowledge of pressure points.
Even the youngest of them, Emily, knew a little something; or, well, she was working on it-- she was interested in taking up kendo, herself. She was going to have to learn something one of these days. There was a family heirloom she had her sights on, and the only way to get it was to physically beat the crap out of Sarah in a fair fight sometime after Emily turns fifteen. It was just an old wooden sword, but Emily's mother and father (Mrs. Vaerbond was currently the owner of the weapon) always said it was unbreakable, which, though that sounded way too mythological for it to be true, sounded completely badass. It also dictated who in the Vaerbond family was the established "alpha" of that generation, and Emily would be damned if she was going to be Sarah's "beta" for the rest of her life.
Of course, the right could always be contested at a later date. That's how Emily and Sarah's mother got a hold of it. Further establishing that she wears the pants in the family, she beat her husband 4-3 in a drunken-extreme-arm-wrestling competition, yet another staple in the Vaerbond dynasty. It entailed two liters of hard liquor, no chasers, two hot plates, and two brains so equally damaged that the act of slamming another person's hand upon a burning hot plate-- and risking the same damage oneself --was not at all a bad idea. It also guaranteed a hung-over hospital visit the next day, but that was a constant in all Vaerbond family competitions.
"Yeah," Sarah replied confidently. You know, not to brag or anything. "I could really fuck his day up if I tried."