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Scene: Collège Françoise Dupont. The Locker Room.
Marinette is holding a fencing helmet.
"This fencing gear really does suit you, Marinette." Tikki praised her holder.
"Thank you, Tikki! Let's hope wielding a saber is a lot easier than finding a helmet that fits." Mari-Trash puts on the helmet but it slips, causing her to groan.
Tikki giggles.
Marinette pulls the helmet off. "I gotta ace these try-outs. D'Argencourt is the most prestigious fencing academy in all of Paris, and the best part is, Adrien is on the fencing team!"
Tikki rolls her eyes as the walking disaster squeals.
"That's why I wanna pass the tryouts so much, so I can impress him," Mari-Bitch smiles.
"Right," Tikki said dryly.
"I've only got this one shot to show them what I've got and get onto the team!" Marinette insisted.
"You've been reviewing the fencing rules all weekend, so, it'll be hard for you not a mess up," Tikki assured.
But the Kwami knew damn well since her holder had two left feet, she probably would mess up.
"You're right. I'm gonna make quite an impression on Adrien," Marinette smirks, slamming the helmet down.
Her dumbass made the rest of the helmets scatter and she scrambled to get them before she found the perfect helmet.
Scene: School Courtyard.
Armand D'Argencourt paces between two lines of students. The fencers and the tryouts.
"I am the fencing master, Mr. D'Argencourt. As I'm sure you're aware, we have only one open spot on the team this year." The man stops and faces the tryouts. "So, in order to select the best possible candidate, I will observe the beginners performing a number of attacks on the experienced students."
Mari-Stalker looks around. "Where's Adrien?" She wonders.
"Hello, Mr. D'Argencourt,"
Marinette instantly got irked at hearing the familiar voice. She turned to see Gloria approaching the fencing teacher, holding her sketchpad.
Mr. D'Argencourt smiles at the florist. "Hello, Gloria! Come to watch the fencers for inspiration on your designs?"
"How'd you know?" Gloria is slightly surprised.
Mr. D'Argencourt laughs. "My dear, you're predictable,"
"I'll go sit on the bench," Gloria goes to a nearby bench and sits down.
