[color=goldenrod][i][h2][center]Gerard Segremors[/center][/h2][/i][/color]

[@Psyker Landshark]

[color=goldenrod]"Fresh perspective."[/color] he conceded, nodding along at Renar's initial rejoinder. The analysis was harsh, blunt, but never totally unfair— a continuous throughline between him and his better-schooled peers whenever time came to talk technique. This often came up during training— and inwardly, Gerard found it a regret that he hadn't internalized their words properly, for all his talk of respecting them, their skills, their experience, and their ability. That it had taken vividly dying, over and over, and coming excessively close twice more in reality, for the lesson to begin to stick. 

Fionn had said it best, once— That Gerard's instinct, the one that most combatants reverted to under pressure, was to bet on a coin flip to regain. To seize [i]Vor[/i] by being meaner, stronger, by wanting it more— relying on aggression and athleticism, rather than craft, process, and adaptation. Initiative ruled everything, so seizing initiative [i]meant[/i] everything. 

Pace. Pressure. Persistence.

Renar focused on having a deep bag of tricks— Gerard fought like he just needed to [i]try harder[/i] than the opponent. He had ideas on offense, and could bring plenty of force to bear to invoke them— but there wasn't much depth or method beyond his workmanlike basics and moment-to-moment opportunism. Analyses that had flooded into his consciousness in these four months of crossing blades with Sir Renar, Dame Serenity, Fionn. Even in understanding such a limitation academically, it was hard to change who he was. This was how he'd been taught.

[color=goldenrod][i]It takes time to learn. It takes time again to unlearn. We can't act like we have time. We might be out of it tomorrow.[/i][/color]

But if anyone could accelerate that process, who better than a swordswoman with multiple centuries of dedication to the craft?

[color=goldenrod]"Right, she [i]is[/i]."[/color] his eyes widened at the realization— having barely interacted with her at the ball due to the accosting young nobility, and then standing within the subsequent whirlwind upon the assassination attempt... her presence had utterly slipped his mind. [color=goldenrod]"And she's famous for the [i]skill[/i] to begin with— probably nobody better to show us how to refine approaches even as we get stronger. All that time at the pinnacle has to have given her some kind of sense for styles like ours, how they work, how we can [i]make[/i] them better. I'm throwing in with that."[/color]

Too good an idea to pass up. So like Sir Renar to have this one up his sleeve— So like Gerard to jump on a golden chance without hesitating. They couldn't concern themselves with worries of her potential refusal— the attempt needed to be made, lest it be gone until fate took them.

[color=goldenrod]"Working with her ought to make us [i]faster[/i], too, by proxy. Didn't she snatch the damn bolt out of the air, when that all went down? Our eyes'll be forced to start keeping up with that kind of speed, and that's half the battle."[/color]