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( don't worry about it somehow registering as ominous and she's not entirely sure why. maybe because that's clarke's general vibe every time a magician looks at her too closely when she asks them questions about power and blood sigils — just don't worry about it guys! nothing bad ever came from a mortal coveting magic everything, and routinely getting it. )

...okay.

( it's really hard to resist taking the sword in hand when offered to her so easily. there's a beat of hesitation, as she stares at the hilt half expecting it to erupt in flames and burn deeper than rita mordio's fireballs (the scar from which is still relatively fresh, healed but shiny on the portion of her left arm that a three-quarter sleeve doesn't cover). but if there's anything humanity does well, it's impulsive risk-taking.

clarke eventually puts her hand around the pommel, and whenever yato lets go, adopts a more traditional hold. still wary, though, and checking the blade over for any foreign markings or magical tells. )

You didn't say anything? Or swing it a specific way? There's not like, a button?

No, nothing like that.

[ Now she is armed and he is not which might be a comfort to her, but if she was going to use the sword on him - which he didn't think she would - it wouldn't be that easy for her. ]

I did swing it around a couple of times to feel the weight. It's a pretty good blade, not too heavy, sharp.

( it's always a comfort to be armed. that's just a facet of the ptsd that comes with living in an apocalyptic warzone, same as the way clarke is almost never without a gun on one hip and a knife on the other unless she's in the faux sanctuary of her own cabin. those two have become such familiar weights that she doesn't even register them in their holsters anymore, and feels discombobulated when without; like sea legs all over again.

but she doesn't turn the blade on yato. has absolutely no thought of doing so, he's giving her this sword, and thus doesn't register as any sort of (immediate) threat.

that said, she does want to swing it. just a little practice, around a couple of times like he'd said to see if it'll light up. clarke takes a careful few steps backwards and then goes through a few motions that darcy had drilled into her during fight club. still sloppy, uncoordinated moves, but improvements a mile past that first day. overhand, footwork, slicing cut through an imaginary enemy's stomach.

...and no flame. which wasn't entirely unexpected (there has to be some sort of phrase of intent behind it, she decides; completely unaware that it will perpetually be a random flame) but still a disappointment. shoulders and fighting stance dropping, staring at the hilt in her hand like it might have some sort of answer and just — ) I'm... confused. But, guess I'll work on it.

( then looking back at yato, brow drawn and eyes searching.) ...This is really for me?

[ She's a bit of an amateur huh? Her movements aren't very fluid, nor are they tight and while the style is different, he can tell immediately where her openings are which isn't terribly good. She definitely needs practice. ]

Your grip is okay, but you'll need to practice, especially to get used to the weight of it. [ He couldn't help himself, oops. ]

[ He tilts his head at her questioning him, ah right, she doesn't remember which is incredibly unfortunate. He wished people would remember him easier and then maybe he could make a friend. Gods still have no self-awareness. Ugh, he didn't need to be reminded of what his dad said. ]

Yes. [ His expression softens a little bit. ] I'm a god of fortune. I offered you a wish and you wished for a magic sword. So when I found one, I considered that pretty lucky. [ His luck's not usually that good. ]

( some of the air about her enthusiasm is sucked out by the instant criticism, but. stiff and righteous first impression she may cut through a crowd, clarke's not so overly proud as to balk at a little humbling. he is right, and she knows there's a long way to go before utilizing a sword could be anything close to graceful. for now, though? as one more defensive line between her, her friends, and death? it'd probably do. adrenaline and desperation are unsung heroes in the fight for survival.

the tip of the blade dips towards the deck, disengaged from any sloppy attempts at a fighting stance. in this moment, yato has her full and undivided attention, and clarke's staring hard — brow furrowed, like she's looking for a flaw in a jigsaw puzzle. )

That's really just it? No strings attached, I don't owe you anything back?

[ He was trying to be helpful, but that doesn't always work out. Hopefully she'd forgive him for being a little rude. At her question, he wanted to ask her again to remember him, but that was kind of a fruitless exercise wasn't it?

God of fortune, god of fortune, right. He smiles instead. ]

That's it.

[ There, some restraint. Yukine be proud of him. ]

If you ever need anything else, you let me know.

( thing is, this is probably going to be a pretty memorable moment. not a lot of people are ever willing to go out of their way to give gifts without expecting something in return, and those that do are either labeled reliable or friendly in clarke's mind. gods tend to be... different from people in her experience, but that's hard to draw a line through. regardless, she's staring at him with a mix of caution and awe; give a little fortune turn about to someone with mid- to low-level luck on a good day

it may not be a perfect patchwork over yato's tendency to be forgotten, but she'd at least actively want to remember him now. like finding a water resource in a desert, and trying to never lose your way back to it. far, far too valuable.

and — oh. remember those warnings of people who might take, and take, and take when he offered? ) Um — ( it's only herculean effort that prevents clarke from opening her mouth further and saying something like i want magic. )

No, thank you. This is perfect for now and, yeah, like you said, I'll need to work at it. ( no more experimental sword swings, but a shrug of her shoulder to reference the blade. then, a scant bit rare, but clarke smiles hard. the sort of smile that breaks through purposefully reserved defenses like a mallet; truly excited to the point it can't be contained. she won't even deny the breathy little laugh that follows, nor the weird rush of fulfillment that runs through her nervous system. )

This is so cool... ( she's gonna tell natsuno immediately. )

[ Actively working at it would definitely help, but most people just aren't that grateful for his help in his experience. A brief exchange, sometimes he got an offering in return - those were the best - but they all forgot him sooner or later, except Hiyori and only because she tried really really hard. ]

Glad I was able to help with your wish.

[ He nods encouragingly. ] You have a good start though, with a bit of practice I'm sure you'll be great at it. I've had many human lifetimes worth to get good at swordplay.

[ Should he be encouraging people to take up arms? It's a bit sketchy but that in itself wasn't so bad so it should be fine. Besides, it's good exercise and people enjoy that kind of recreational activity. ]

( clarke is, admittedly, a tiny bit disappointed that she hasn't managed to make the blade alight simply by touch or will. but end of the day, this is still a sword of her very own, with which she could at least cut future enemies if not burn them. it'll still do, and doesn't undercut the weirdly twisting delight housed in her ribcage. )

Got any more tips? ( because she's rejected or been stubborn with most that'd offered to teach her, but right now some of the preliminary defenses are worn down. eager and listening. )

Sure! [ There's nothing does more than swing a sword around after all. ]

Probably the most important thing is getting used to the weight and balance of the sword. [ That has little to do with Clarke herself and he's not saying she's bad at anything, that's just a fact. ] You want it to feel like a natural extension of your hand. Everything else comes much easier after that, so practice yeah, but it's going to feel awkward until you're used to it.

Also... [ This is the real secret and something that all teachers would probably cry about. ] Form doesn't really matter much in a real fight. It's more important to be comfortable with what you're doing.

So commitment to a style matters less than accidentally flinging the sword out of my hand?

( it's a rhetorical question, tinged with the air of humor around it. yato had, perhaps blessedly, not been present for when clarke had tried out wooden practice swords and a) managed to smack herself in the face with the broadside, and b) absolutely lost her grip more than once and yeeted the thing halfway across the sports deck. )

And here I was obsessing over footwork.

Surprisingly that's like half the battle. [ He chuckles. ]

I mean, someone like me could talk about real form and if you want to really master it then yeah that stuff's important but it's still better than being unarmed in a fight.

[ He's fought with a good deal of bladed weapons and he knows how to use each one. Part of it is instinctive, part of it is practice. He's got a chaotic god style. ]

Try not to get hit. Humans are easily hurt. [ Solid advice. ]

( she outright snorts, plenty of scars to attest to the fact that yes, base humans are vulnerable, easily breakable beings. hence why she'd sought out a magical weapon, even if it's one she has no idea how to light up, and a glancing idea of how to wield. but, yanno — )

I figure I've got time to try to master... pretty much anything here. And in the meantime, just having the means at my disposal might keep my friends safe. Even if I lose a swordfight, they'd have a little more time to run...

( the closest she comes to looking down at her shoes and scuffing the toes along the deck floor like a shy toddler is: running her thumb across the hilt of the sword, especially the pommel. then disdaining the fingerprint marks left in her wake, and picking at the edge of her shirt to buff them out. with this admission, she's pointedly not looking yato in the face. )

I probably should discourage you from that but...

[ He's willing to sacrifice himself for others, especially Hiyori. No one's going to be saved from his wrath if she's so much as bothered and that was really the problem with father and him reaching the end of his rope. ]

Guess that means you just have to practice so you don't lose.

( it's a pretty self sacrificial, self destructive line of thinking, true. but it's also the comfortable baseline clarke's been running with for over a year by this point, and means a lot that this conversation doesn't dissolve into a lecture that attempts to force change. that way it's still a comfortable lie that doesn't demand further introspection when she nods and says: )

That's what I'm working towards. Actually — ( what time is it again? eh, doesn't matter. it could be 2am or 2pm and her sudden jolt of inspiration wouldn't waver. ) — I think that's what I'm going to go do right now. At least until I get used to the weight, like you said.

Good luck! If you do want help sometime, you can ask anytime.

[ He waves a bit to let Clarke go and do her practice, she'll probably be fine right? ]

( SHE WILL AT LEAST............ not die.

that is the most one can ask of her.

though before disappearing entirely towards the elevators, clarke does pause to wave back. looks away briefly, and when glancing yato's way once more before completely out of line of sight, at least registers that he's just given her a sword. and that she appreciates him for it. )

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