Welcome to Gaia! ::

There was a pause before she was answered, and when the reply came it was in the distinctly strangled-sounding voice of someone who had just been scared shitless and was attempting to wrangle it.

"I can't get used to that," the voice said. "I will never get used to that."

But she stepped into view, and if Nymphe was looking for useful brains to pick, it was incredibly obvious that she would have little to offer: the knight fairly dripped the idea of "rookie," right down to the useless little bit of ribbon dangling from her hand in lieu of a weapon. The most telling, thing, though, was the cagey and paranoid way she moved, restless and unwilling to have her back to an open space. Still feeling her way around walking around as anything but a civilian, but stubbornly doing so anyway.

Just in case, as she told herself. In case of what? She would have been hard pressed to say.

She did not introduce herself, pausing and eyeing Nymphe skeptically. "Is this like - going to the gym?" She made a face, clearly indicating her distaste for the idea.

There was another pause.

"I am - Joyeuse Garde. Joy," she added, aware that the name was a whole mouthful of French. And then, aware that Joy did not exactly neatly derive from Joyeuse, adding with an awkward lameness: "It makes more sense written down."

She hesitated, not exactly replying to the invitation directly, although her eyes were turned on the makeshift target marks.

"Can you do - things? Like--I met a guy--" she made a vague explosion sound, and a gesture of spreading fingers, although this was not exactly an accurate depiction of the Senshi powers she had witnessed. And then, bluntly: "I can't do s**t." She lofted, as she said this, the length of ribbon, as if to demonstrate its insipid uselessness.

She wrinkled her nose, clearly distraught by all of this. "I don't think I'm really cut out for - well, any of this," she finished, still lamely. "But maybe. I think I'm just waiting for it to be useful. Why isn't yours - useful, I mean?" she asked. "I mean, it's gotta be more useful than a fat girl trying to use a garotte."

She paused, suddenly shy. "Can you show me? I haven't - gotten to see a lot firsthand, yet." And then, drily: "I can even wave the ribbon at it, if you think it'll help."

She suddenly perked up, looking as if she was newly invigorated to take on a challenge - which she was.

"I'm fat and I'm pretty," she corrected her. "These things are not mutually exclusive. At least not in my case."

She bounced from foot to foot. "That's way nicer than anything I can do. If you think you can make this thing handy for me, go ahead." She held the ribbon up taut between her two hands, apparently now willing to engage. "I do have - something else. But let me see what you're going to suggest first."

It would be nice to think that she had a sudden burst of athleticism and courage. Instead, she had a sudden burst of noise, in the form of an undignified yelp at this sudden movement.

She tried, at least - not well, nor effectively - to do as commanded. To her credit, she seemed to do it instinctively, less than from instruction - reacting quickly and seeming to know intuitively what she ought to be doing. It was just that she was too busy scuttling out of range of the kick to truly make herself effective.

"I can sort of - I have a thing," she said, bouncing back out of range and eyeing Nymphe warily, as if she might launch a second and more serious attempt. This did, at least, indicate that she was better prepared for another go. "But I think it only works on-" she hesitated, as she often did when trying to use the correct vocabulary and rebelling against it. "Well, against people who aren't us," she settled, feeling uncomfortable.

"Oh my god," said Joy. "What a ******** delight, if it worked on all men. Especially if it worked on dead men." She did not elaborate on this.

"It's - I think it's pretty unpleasant," she said hesitantly. "Are you sure you wanna try it? Just in case it does work on people who aren't officers." But she was already reaching to pull a silver whistle out of the furs on her shoulder, holding it in her lips and repositioning her ribbon in defensive posture and apparently preparing herself for another assault, wrinkling her nose as she watched her with wary caution.

"Up to you," she added, speaking awkwardly around it, apparently also prepared to blow it if asked.

She did, this time, make an attempt to counter - one that might or might not yield results, depending largely on whether the whistle did, as she blew it - in something of a startled panic - as she attempted to divert the oncoming fist with a swing of her arms.

Some people, newly acclimating to the world of first person shooters, respond to attacks by spinning in a circle and flailing wildly. While Joy's efforts at combat weren't quite as bad as that all that, it was pretty clear that her KDA ratio wasn't going to be much better than if they were.