Leah lifts a hand, offering Crux one final, departing wave before shutting the cold out. When she turns back to Tara a soft smile remains on her lips. She steps over beside Tara, hand reaching across her to give her a little sidehug and she presses a small peck against the side of Tara's head. "I'm proud of you, kiddo." she says as she watches out the living room window as Crux treks through the snow.
#Leah'sHouse – March 25, 2025
Leah lifts a hand, offering Crux one final, departing wave before shutting the cold out. When she turns back to Tara a soft smile remains on her lips. She steps over beside Tara, hand reaching across her to give her a little sidehug and she presses a small peck against the side of Tara's head. "I'm proud of you, kiddo." she says as she watches out the living room window as Crux treks through the snow.
Tara watches Crux depart towards the road, until Leah catches her attention, her comment eliciting a puzzled look, obviously unsure what she did to be proud of.
Leah remains beside Tara, a small puff of air escaping, giving away her amusement at the younger woman's confusion. "There's a lot of people that might not be so forgiving to someone who showed up at their door with a bunch of armed thugs..." she explains. After a short pause she gives a small shrug of her shoulders, turning to better face Tara. "Guess I'm just proud that you're-... well, you." she adds, giving Tara a playful
poke on the tip of her nose before stepping over to the couch and dropping onto the seat to put her boots on.
Tara doesn't say anything, and it's easy to miss, but she seems to stand just a little taller. The poke makes her nose twitch, but she's quick to join Leah in getting her own boots on, setting Zoe down to free up her hands.
Zoe immediately slips between Leah's feet, playing with the laces of her boots and getting in the way.
Leah snorts, giving a small roll of her eyes at Zoe's antics. "Menace!" she accuses, unable to resist petting the playful creature as it hinders her.
Eventually, once Leah is done fussing over Zoe, they're able to make their way outside. With Lema coming out twice a week for biotic lessons, clearing out the makeshift gym behind the house was priority one. Keeping it from becoming buried in snow once more has added a little more work to the morning routine but it hasn't been too bad. Mostly due to the upgrades Leah has added. Similar to the rooftop of the Redrock building, a few small
thermal emitters dot the slab that the canopy is erected over that serve to keep snow from building up and preventing the temperatures in the canopy from becoming unbearable. The emitters are powered by a small solar panel perched on a pole that's been driven into the ground outside of the canopy, just tall enough to catch the sunlight. It was a bit of an investment, but it's something Leah has been wanting to do for a while. Lema's training
just served as the extra nudge to finally get it done. Next step would be to put an actual structure on the slab to fully insulate it from the elements, but that's a project for another time. The front of the canopy is rolled up, exposing the interior. It's a far cry from the Redrock gym. Just a few mats, a couple of exercise machines, an anchored punching bag, and a vaguely humanoid target that's currently masquerading as a pincushion due
to the number of throwing knives stuck in it. A folding table with a few chairs is in one corner, littered with odds and ends, including the Juralis that's been the focus of Lema's visits so far.
Leah leads the way towards the canopy, snow crunching underfoot. "...and that's why I think Malelius is going to be the one that has to save them!" she finishes her long-winded, convoluted theory and finally takes a breath as she steps inside.
Tara is as attentive a listener as ever, nodding along as she pays close attention to Leah's theorizing. A leashed Zoe is with her, traipsing through the snow and eating mouthfuls as they go. Maybe the cold feels nice for a teething young gzzk.
Leah gives the side of the slab a few kicks to clear the loose snow from her boots before stepping over to the table. "Soooo~!" she begins in a sing-songy tone, lifting on the balls of her feet and spinning to face Tara, "There's something I wanted to talk to you about-... and feel free to tell me if you don't feel comfortable!" she's quick to clarify, palms outward, not wanting to back Tara into a corner
Tara attaches Zoe's leash to one of the canopy struts, giving the gzzk an area to roam and freeing up her hands. She mirrors Leah's snow-clearing gesture, albeit more thoroughly, and follows her, only to stop when she's addressed. She seems a little caught off-guard, but listens and waits for Leah to elaborate.
Leah draws in a breath, green eyes turning to the table and a row of blades laid out on top of it. "I've just been thinking-..." she starts and stops, giving a few tilts of her head in each direction, seeming to weigh how best to say what she's thinking. "Given everything that's happened?" she continues, scrunching up her nose as her gaze turns back to Tara, "Maaaaybe it's time that we talk about you learning how to defend
Tara furrows her eyebrows, immediately shrinking back a little. "To... fight?" she asks quietly, eyes falling on the weapons laid out on the table.
Leah frowns, the reaction not exactly unexpected. "No, not-..." a heavy breath escapes, turning to steam in the winter air and she reaches out, placing a gentle hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "...Hopefully you never need to defend yourself. And? If you do? Step one will always be: Get to Leah!" She forces a small smile into place. "Because I will always protect you. I promise. But-..." she stammers, smile
slipping a bit, "...in the event that I can't? Maybe I'm not here? Maybe I'm-... hurt? I would feel a lot better knowing that you can protect yourself. What do you think?"
Tara 's discomfort is plain to see, even if she does her best to reign it in, but right around the final hypothetical something starts to shift in her face, and that shift only solidifies with the words that follow. Her frown turns focused. Thoughtful. And as the silences stretches, determined. She draws in a deep, bracing breath and nods. "Yes. I will learn," she says firmly, images of Leah injured protecting her running through her
Leah's smile reinforces and she gives a single, stern nod. With that out of the way, she takes a deep breath. "Okay~! You don't need to know how to fight to know how to protect yourself." she assures her, Tara's obvious discomfort towards violence having been carefully considered beforehand, "But~ that means we need something to even the playing field a little." she explains. "The easiest way to do that would be to carry
a sidearm but I'm preeeetty sure that's not something you'd want to do-... I mean, not that there's anything weird about that! Lots of people would feel uncomfortable about carrying a firearm!" she begins to ramble, "I just mean-... maybe you would feel more comfortable with something a little less dangerous. Something a little more 'tool' and a little less 'weapon', ya know? Not that-..." she gives a
roll of her green eyes at her own inability at getting right to the point, "...a gun can't be a tool but I don't think you're going to be doing any hunting anytime soon and justgettothepointalreadyLeah!" she sighs at herself. Her hand moves to her jacket pocket and she leans a bit to the side before producing a small, black, nylon sheath that she holds up for Tara to see.
Tara listens silently as Leah talks, unfazed as she starts to veer into ramble territory. Her gaze falls to the object in her hand when it's presented, eyeing it with curious apprehension as she awaits elaboration.
Leah turns it about in her hand for Tara to see. "Small. Discreet. Has a loop to go on a belt-..." she shows off the backside to Tara, "...and a clip to attach to your pants for those beltless days." Suddenly feeling like an infomercial saleswoman, she extends the sheath out to her side and gives an exaggerated sweep over it with her other hand, as if presenting the weapon to add a little levity to the situation. "Annnd it comes
in black so it'll go with any outfit!" A small snicker slips out and she pops the sheath open before removing the weapon and setting the sheath on the table. It's a small, black, folding knife with a textured carbon fiber handle. With a flick of her thumb, the blade swings out. The blade itself is only about 3 inches long, putting the entire knife at around 7 inches. "Spring-loaded folding mechanism so you can deploy it with
one hand, but also-..." she grips it with both hands, putting her thumb right in the line of danger as she deactivates the lock and begins to close the knife, showing the resistance offered by the mechanism to keep it from closing on your fingers, "...safe." She sets the opened knife down on the table beside the other blades, its rugged, chunkier design a departure from the weighted throwing knives and daggers laid out beside
Tara pays close attention even when Leah goofs off, although the blade deploying makes her eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. She continues to listen slightly, nodding as the mechanism is demonstrated, and her eyes follow the knife to the table as its put down, a thoughtful frown on her face. One of her hands shifts slightly at her side, but she doesn't reach for it.
Zoe has already managed to loop the leash a couple of times around the strut its attached to, but she still has plenty of room to roam and bury her face in the snow.
Leah slides the knife across the table, closer to Tara, and opens her mouth to speak but cuts herself off, green eyes seeking out Tara's as her nose scrunches up, a question she hadn't previously considered suddenly striking her: "Which is your dominant hand?"
Tara hesitates briefly before lifting her right hand, looking a little like she's second-guessing herself.
Leah furrows her brow in thought before her smile suddenly reappears. "When you're cutting vegetables at work? Which hand do you hold the knife in?" she restates the question.
Tara 's hand rises a little higher, the gesture gaining a bit more confident. "Right," she confirms.
Leah gives a sharp nod. "Right." she repeats through a grin. "Go ahead and grab the knife. Show me how you would hold it." she directs, parking her butt on the edge of the table as she watches.
Tara nods, but once again hesitates slightly, before reaching out and picking the knife up. Unsurprisingly, she holds it much like she would a kitchen knife, a firm grip with the neck of the blade pinched between her thumb and index finger. She quickly looks to Leah for some indication this is appropriate.
Leah gives a couple of nods. "Okay! Not bad!" she says, "This would be a variation of a standard grip. But in a self defense situation? You're probably going to want a little more-..." she reaches back to pick up one of the throwing knives and extends it outwards to show off her finger positioning to Tara. "...of a grip on it." It's a firm grip, blade upwards, fingers and thumb wrapped around the handle as if it's the hilt of a
sword. "It's okay to loosen up-..." she eases up on her grip, thumb moving towards the spine of the handle and giving a few swipes, showing off how that subtle change has freed up her wrist for more fluid mobility, "...for a little more dexterity when you're more comfortable with the knife. But for now-..." she returns to the previous grip and raises her hand for emphasis, "...you probably want to focus more on keeping ahold
Tara watches Leah's demonstration, and then nods, gaze shifting between both of their hands as she replicates her grip. A glance to her for confirmation that she has it right follows.
Leah offers a big bright smile, nodding to confirm that Tara has it right. "Congratulations, that's a standard grip!" she says. "Offers good control. And-..." she stands from the table and extends her right arm forward, thrusting the blade towards an invisible opponent, her left arm naturally lifting as if to pre-emptively defend herself should the need arise, "...a bit more reach. Buuuut~ you and I aren't the biggest people, so
we're never going to win a fight with our reach." she explains, unbothered by the fact that the intricacies of hand-to-hand combat are probably going right over Tara's head. "So I prefer-..." she twirls the knife against the palm of her hand in a practiced movement, gripping it in an upside-down fashion, "...a reverse grip." She squares up in a typical boxing stance, left arm leading, right knife-hand close to her chest.
"It's a bit more defensive. Allows you to protect your knife-hand a bit easier, that way it's harder for someone to take it from you." After showing off the stance, she settles back onto the edge of the table and looks back to Tara.
Tara gains a brief, slight smile at the confirmation, continuing to pay close attention to Leah as she speaks. The words that follow bring out a slight hint of tension, but she does her best to mirror the grip-reversing twirl with a focused frown - perhaps an ill-advised choice, given that she fumbles it a little, nicking the edge of her palm. There's a slight twitch in her face before her frown deepens. She keeps a solid hold of the
knife, and looks more displeased with her mistake than bothered by the small cut, from which a drop of red runs down the edge of the blade.
Leah immediately rises from the edge of the table, immediately regretting showing off, not having expected Tara to try to emulate that part. "Merde-..." slips out, then a flash of frustration at her father's repeated use of the word inadvertantly finding its way back into her vocabulary. She makes a mental note to nip that in the bud and bites down on her lower lip, putting her own knife down and reaching across the table for a
pile of rags neatly folded up on the opposite side. "Sorry! I didn't-..." she pauses, gently taking the knife from Tara and setting it on the table before rotating her hand to check the extent of the damage, her green eyes flashing from Tara's hand to her face, smile returning, "...I wasn't expecting you to try that part. But that was good! You almost had it!"
Tara looks a little embarrassed by Leah's clarification, her gaze falling to their hands with a quiet "Sorry." and a slight, apologetic tilt of her head. The cut no doubt stings, but its small and relatively harmless, even if its filled in the lines of her pale palm with red.
Leah furrows her brows and shakes her head a number of times. "I'm the one that should be sorry! I should know better." she sighs, "I have training knives that we should be using." Using the rag she dabs away the blood on the palm of Tara's hand. Once cleaned up, she wraps the rag around Tara's hand and puts a little pressure on it to stop the bleeding.
Tara tenses just a little with the cleaning of the cut, but it never shows on her face, hand held perfectly still as Leah wraps it up. She opens her mouth to say something, hesitating uncertainly for a moment before overcoming that ingrained aversion to believing her opinion matters. She knows it does to Leah. "It's... okay," she assures with a small but sincere smile.
Zoe comes over to the two of them, perhaps drawn by the commotion, or the tone of their voices. She paws at Tara's leg with a querying "Chau?"
Leah's smile resurfaces, Tara's engagement clearly important to her. Zoe's addition only seems to widen her smile. "Wellllll~ I think that's probably enough knife training for one day." she snickers, tucking one end of the rag into itself to hold it in place. "Next time we'll use the training blades!" she assures before quickly lifting a hand and correcting herself, "If there is a next time, I mean! It's up to you. I totally
Tara nods in agreement at the mention the training blades, confirming that she wants to continue in the process. With her hand dressed and free she crouches down, using her left to give Zoe a few reassuring scratches.
Leah gives a firm nod. "Alright! Then this-..." she says, reaching out to recollect the open blade. She lifts it, slowly closing it in clear view of Tara to show her once more how the mechanism works. Once closed, she slides it back into the nylon sheath. "...is yours." She sets it back down on the table and slides it towards Tara. "Keep it here, near your dominant hand-..." she gives her own waistline a quick pat to imply where