From: pechever@sal-sun80.usc.edu (Heckler)
Subject: Chesed : Edges
Date: 21 Jul 1993 22:06:39 -0700
Summary: pretty flashy sharp things
Keywords: qbl mercy (MERCY, without which we perish)

19930719225128

   The knife artist produces sharp objects from nowhere.

   A tiny knife, blade an inch and a half long, dances among his knuckles.

   Whirr.

   The knife artist waltzes with the sharp metal, passes the sword from hand 
to hand, end over end.  Sometimes the point seems to descend inevitably towards
a palm or a forearm -- then the flesh is there no longer, slapping instead at
the flat of the blade, or grabbing at the hilt, sending the silvered metal 
into glittering transports of joy, littering lightshards all over the room.

   The knife artist is never mugged.

   The knife artist sneers at all blades; they are all equally his creatures,
his to command, clickwhirr of endless dance.

   Two.  And four.  A blade at every finger, now showing, now hiding, ten
claws of tungsten steel.  A wall of sharpness, arcing hand to hand (whirr,
click!).  He pets this dagger-furred ermine, strokes it lovingly, with nary
a scratch.

   Do not call the knife artist a juggler.  He breathes and is the blade.

   Each arm is now sixty centimetres of scything edge, whickering through
the punished and gasping (whish! whirr!) air.

  The arms are now just flesh.  Look!  Again they bristle with point and edge.

  The knife artist loves himself.

  He raises up his arms and gives himself a great big hug.

  clickwhirr

  dripclickdripwhirr

  dripdripdrip

  whirrrrrr.


heckler
--
the good knife fighter keeps his mind on point and edge and shearing-guard
simultaneously.  the point can also cut; the edge can also stab; the
shearing-guard can also trap your opponent's blade.
						    -- gurney halleck, 'dune'