Saturday: Project HLR launch -36:00:00
The sun was shining through the window and into Chris's eyes. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.
"Good morning!" yelled Heather from across the room.
Chris focused his vision. Heather was sitting on her bed looking at her phone.
"You know you could have gone to the dining room. Francis probably has breakfast prepared and is waiting for us," Chris said.
"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to wait for you," Heather replied with a smile.
Chris rolled himself out of bed and walked out of the door with Heather by his side. Chris noticed that Heather was walking closer to him than she normally does.
"Did you sleep well?" Heather asked cheerfully.
"Yeah," Chris replied. "You seem quite happy today. Did something happen?"
"Nothing in particular, just a good day."
Chris continued walking. Now he could feel the energy radiating off of Heather and couldn't help but put a smile on his face. Chris led Heather into the kitchen. Francis was standing next to the stove, wearing a white apron overtop of his clothes. He picked up a pan and flicked it upwards, sending a pancake flying towards the ceiling, then falling down and landing back on the pan.
"Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic?" Chris asked.
"Nope, not at all," Francis replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Heather, since you're here. Do you want anything in you pancakes?"
"Chocolate chips, if you have any," Heather answer excitedly.
"Yes, ma'am, I get those ready for you."
"How could you didn't ask what I wanted?" Chris growled.
"Because I know what you like," Francis replied, still focused on the stove. "Plain as usual with a chocolate spread on top, correct."
Chris nodded and walked into the dining room. He sat down at his usual spot. Francis had set a glass of water at each of the spots at the table. Heather walked out of the kitchen carrying three plates. She carefully sat down each of places.
Just then, the smoke detector went off, followed by yelling and banging. Chris jumped from his seat and ran into the kitchen. Francis had grabbed the fire extinguisher and was dowsing a small flame on the stove.
"You ok back here?" Chris asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. A piece of paper caught on fire, I think," said Francis, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"I think you're done cooking now."
"What happened?" Heather asked, as Chris and Francis walked into the dining room.
"This dunce lit a piece of paper on fire," Chis said, laughing.
Heather let out a small chuckle as Chris sat Francis down at his end of the table and the three began eating.
"So, is there anything you guys want to do today?" Francis asked.
"I don't think so," said Chris with his mouth full of food.
"Chris showed me this room with a lot of swords in it," said Heather. "I was wondering if you've ever used them to fight before?"
"Yeah, we have!" Chris exclaimed with an enormous smile on his face. "In fact, I'm the reining champ in this house."
"I'm the only person you fought against. You can't really call yourself a champion," remarked Francis, putting a large piece of pancake into his mouth.
"Well, I've beaten everyone I've fought against; therefore, I am the champion," Chris replied, raising his voice.
"Well, why don't you two have a dual and the winner will be dubbed the champion," said Heather.
"Deal!" shouted Chris and Francis.
Chris, Heather, and Francis finished eating and made their way to the arena. On the way, Heather asked if she could fight one round against Chris. Despite his concern for her safety, he allowed it. They at the room and went in. Francis dug a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door leading to a locker room. Francis took Heather to the back to help her get fitted with proper protection. Chris picked up his gear and put it on. He overheard Francis warning Heather about getting hit. To him, it almost sounded like he was trying to persuade her not to fight him.
Chris finished putting on his gear and grabbed a sword. He walked out of the locker room and leaned against the wall farthest from the door. Chris looked down at his sword. The light reflected off the black and crimson sheath and into his eyes. A few minutes later Francis and Heather walked out, both wearing white padded suits.
"So, who's first?" Chris asked.
"I am," answered Heather.
"She will serve as a sort of warm-up match for you," said Francis.
Chris pull his face protector down over his head and walked to his end of the arena. Heather did the same and walked to her end. Chis thrusted his sword to the side, letting the sheath fly off and hit the ground. The crimson red blade shone brightly in the sun coming through the small window in the top of the wall. Heather carefully removed her sword from its sheath. She had a silver rapier with a golden guard and handle.
"Dang! I didn't know your tactic to defeat me was to blind me with that," Chris exclaimed.
"Shut up and let me read out the rules!" Francis yelled, walking to the edge of the arena in the middle of Chris and Heather. "This is a first strike match. If you are hit by your opponent's sword, you are out. If your opponent is disabled, to prevent injury, you may end the match with a stop short. One more thing, no stabbing. Anything else is fair game."
Chris and Heather readied their sword and waited for Francis's signal for the match to start. Chris noticed that Heather's hands were shaking. He could tell whether it was from the weight of the sword or if she was nervous.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I won't be upset if you back down," Chris asked.
"I've come this far. I'm not giving up," Heather replied.
Francis dropped his hand, and immediately Heather launched into a full sprint towards Chris. Chris stepped back and brought his sword back and swung upwards at Heather's shoulder, hitting her sword in the process. She jumped backward out of fear and the sword was flung at Francis, who nearly got hit by it. Chris brought his sword back around and swung at Heather's neck. He stopped just short of hitting her.
"This match is over. Chris is the winner!" Francis exclaimed.
"That was fast, and a little scary," Heather said, standing brushing herself off.
"You're next," said Chris, turning to Francis. "Heather, do you have any hair clips on you right now?"
"Yeah, I do," Heather said, removing one from her hair. "Why do you need one?"
Chris grabbed the hair clip and removed his face protection. "Damn hair's too long and I can't see at times," replied Chris, clipping his hair back.
"Not gonna lie, you look good with your hair pulled back," Heather said.
Chris pull the mask over his head again and walked to his spot in the arena.
Heather walked to the edge of the arena towards the middle of where they were standing and raised one hand. After a few seconds, she quickly threw her hand down, signaling the start of the match.
Immediately Francis lunged forward, swinging his sword in a downward motion, aiming for Chris' right shoulder. Chris responded with an upward motion, blocking the blow, sending a few sparks to the ground. He re-angled his sword, now aiming for Francis' hip. Francis jumped back, using his sword to push Chris's sword past him. Using the momentum he gained from Francis' block, Chris spun around to strike Francis in the same spot. Francis moved his sword to intercept the strike, sending more sparks shooting from the swords.
Chris and Francis continued striking at each other and blocking every strike. The sound of metal clashing rang out. The rhythmic dances of the swords continued for minutes with no side showing any weaknesses. When one boy looked like he had an advantage, the other would power through. Heather watched in amazement, hypnotized by the boys' elegant style of fighting.
With two loud yells, the two swords met, spewing sparks. The two swords seemed inseparable. Chris's serious attitude has now changed back to his old cocky attitude. He slid his right foot around the back of his left foot. With a loud yell, he pushed back Francis' blade, stepped back with his left foot rotating his body swinging his sword into the side of Francis' stomach.