Why are these things need to be so heavy..?

[Guest]

Noster sighted.No that's can't be happening.He looked at his hand.He was holding his sword-a quite pretty one-,but can't lift it.
Oh..come on...don't tell me that I can't lift my own sword...
He tried it again,but it was no use.
oh man
He bounded the red ribbon,which was tied to his's swords grip,to his right wrist.It was a tactik,if he falls during the battle,his sword won't be able to fly away from him,but at that moment he couln't live with this trick.
It's a joke right?
Then he started to drang his sword outside.

[Guest]

Jane was going to get her scythe, idly wanting something to do. She noticed a boy dragging a sword out of the weaponry, a sword that looked far too heavy for him. "Need a little help there?" she asked, striding up to him and pausing in her fast, long-legged pace.

[Guest]

"What-"thump,clashing and a quiet groan.
"No thank you I'm alright."He said behind the selfes.
or at least I think that

[Guest]

"Are you sure?" she asked, stepping closer, concern higher in her mind than idle curiosity and her one major weakness; empathy. "It's really no trouble."

[Guest]

"No I am finnee ~~~"said Noster.He lean on his sword and stood up."See.."he dusted himself and lifted up his arms ,but his sword still tied to his wirst"I am-"he pulled down a bunch of boxes with it-"all right."

[Guest]

She put a hand to her mouth, hiding a small smile. "I guess I'll have to take your word for that," she said, holding back a chuckle. Poor guy, he was so comical...

"In that case," she said, putting her hand on the open door to the weaponry, "Would you like to spar with me? It'll only take a second to get my scythe."

[ Wrong character, sorry ><;; ]

[Guest]

[ Sorry, I posted with the wrong character ><;; ]

[Guest]

Noster glumped.
Would you like to spar with me? Well no.
"Su-"
Man she is older than you and even a freshman is more muscular than you! my dear you win a ticket to the infarmary..
"re."

((No proplem^^))

[Guest]

"Alright," she said brightly. "I'll be two seconds, hang on."

She stepped inside, glancing around and seeing her long scythe. As she picked it up, she thought about how ironic it was; she was always stuck in the past, with her guns from early 20th century, but some of her coworkers would send her straight to the asylum for choosing an old tool used for harvesting grain and later portrayed as something a mystical figure used. But maybe that was one reason she liked it.

Carrying the scythe easily over one shoulder, the shaft touching it lightly while her hand counteracted the weight of the blade, she cocked her head at Noster. "Well? Shall we?"

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