Caim of Caerleon (
loverofinnocence) wrote in
smash_logs2013-03-20 05:42 pm
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The Time to Fence is NOW
Who: Caim, Students, Lurkers, and So On
Where: Fencing Class
What: Fencing Class
When: 03/21 - Late Morning
Warnings: What could possibly go wrong.

If there was one thing Caim could admit to excelling at - aside from murdering - it was the mastery of swords. In Midgard, the prince would have thought himself a Renaissance man of weapons, considering his training went through a plethora of fields. He could wield pole arms, staves, axes, and so on. Only thing he'd never really picked up was a bow and arrow, but that required to stay in the background of things. Perhaps it was regal authority that commanded in him a reminder that even the prince of a lost land needed to uphold some form of leadership quality - which demanded his presence upfront and centre.
For Christmas of 2012, Caim had given each student enrolled in his class a foil, particularly engraved with the pupil's name in the handle. Mostly so no one would suddenly accuse another of taking his foil as they trained and sparred. In hindsight, he supposed it was a nice gesture made on his part.
The class itself would be one part discussion of technique and minute demonstration, one part student solo training, and the final part student pairing training. Offensive and defensive maneuvers were to be held in the same high regard. Vertical strikes, horizontal strikes, the rotation of the wrist, the ability to stand lightly and hold a commanding presence, parries, and evasion were all key points to the traditional world of dueling, something not even Caim was foreign to.
In short, it certainly was nicer than Goose's piloting class.
The classroom itself was welcoming. Well, as welcoming as a classroom could likely feel, at any rate. Desks pushed further back to leave open floor in the front and Caim's desk, which was home to two yellow Pikmin with toothpicks, clearly interested in helping him teach. He stood behind it, as stiff and rigid as he ever was, a hand poised at hisbuttwings hip, and the other at the dry-erase board with pen in hand. And a chair behind his personal desk pulled out for his sister, who'd been so kind as to fulfill the role of his vocal translator.
Undoubtedly, it'd be intriguing. And maybe some students would stab themselves.
Where: Fencing Class
What: Fencing Class
When: 03/21 - Late Morning
Warnings: What could possibly go wrong.

If there was one thing Caim could admit to excelling at - aside from murdering - it was the mastery of swords. In Midgard, the prince would have thought himself a Renaissance man of weapons, considering his training went through a plethora of fields. He could wield pole arms, staves, axes, and so on. Only thing he'd never really picked up was a bow and arrow, but that required to stay in the background of things. Perhaps it was regal authority that commanded in him a reminder that even the prince of a lost land needed to uphold some form of leadership quality - which demanded his presence upfront and centre.
For Christmas of 2012, Caim had given each student enrolled in his class a foil, particularly engraved with the pupil's name in the handle. Mostly so no one would suddenly accuse another of taking his foil as they trained and sparred. In hindsight, he supposed it was a nice gesture made on his part.
The class itself would be one part discussion of technique and minute demonstration, one part student solo training, and the final part student pairing training. Offensive and defensive maneuvers were to be held in the same high regard. Vertical strikes, horizontal strikes, the rotation of the wrist, the ability to stand lightly and hold a commanding presence, parries, and evasion were all key points to the traditional world of dueling, something not even Caim was foreign to.
In short, it certainly was nicer than Goose's piloting class.
The classroom itself was welcoming. Well, as welcoming as a classroom could likely feel, at any rate. Desks pushed further back to leave open floor in the front and Caim's desk, which was home to two yellow Pikmin with toothpicks, clearly interested in helping him teach. He stood behind it, as stiff and rigid as he ever was, a hand poised at his
Undoubtedly, it'd be intriguing. And maybe some students would stab themselves.
ATTENDANCE
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That said, the towering female bowed in salute to the teacher before taking a seat while class begun.
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Ellistree made her way in and as she did so, his eyes caught onto her movements for a few moments at least. Then he drew up a hand and offered what was likely a dismissive wave. A salute. Respect, indeed. It was almost akin to the greeting he would have received at the head of Caerleon's military. Save there was a lot more rambling of 'Prince Caim' and so on and so forth.
Thank the Goddess that hadn't popped up yet.
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She'd wait for things to get going and behave, for now.
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But despite this, she would be Caim's voice for the class. And in taking up the role of Caim's interpreter, Furiae had studied thoroughly in preparation; she turned to the few books in the library as well as to her brother, with whom she made sure approved of how she would deliver his explanations and instructions.
Clear and loud enough to be heard in the whole of the room. It had been strange to begin with, to raise her voice from the usual level she spoke from. But Furiae made no complaints.
And she didn't make a sound either as she sat in the chair that had been designated as hers, observing the classroom. She gave a polite nod to anyone who looked her way, but for the time before the class began, Furiae spoke only if spoken to.
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Yet somehow, the next best thing was to educate her in technique only. He could be the demonstration and she could be the explanation. It was a bit of a romantic dream he had when he stood beside her, showing off both their similarities and their differences. She was much more demure than he was, beautiful and delightful. He was rough around the edges and hard. The world of contrasts sat between them and he doubted anyone else on the outside would have missed it.
And they probably asked why she had even offered to do such a thing. For Caim couldn't imagine many knew of their sibling status.
He held for her a reserved type of smile, the kind of smile he gave to no one other than her. And as he stood at her side, his head inclined with an inquisitive stare. Feeling confident?
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But how unlike her it was, she had thought in preparing for it. Then, what was like her? Little was always the answer to that, with her life being nothing but the wait for death. It was hard to even think if she would have been so bold to volunteer for the role of a speaker in front of many. It wasn't unlike a royal life, perhaps- though the men, the princes and the kings, were more the ones to speak, princesses and queens had their own duties to fulfil as well.
And what princesses would have taken up a class in fencing? None in the books Furiae had read when she was younger, which was the closest comparison she had ever had to a source of what was 'proper' for someone like her, other than her own mother.
Caim's look was one that needed no words, and she gave to him a nod. A smile joined it too, if only because of her brother's own- for how could she refuse to return it, even though looking to his face reminded her a troubling knowledge inside of her.
Do you wish to see me gone?
But as was her way, Furiae looked back towards the class and said nothing, her lips forming back to nothing but a line.
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Never.
He never wanted to lose her. Not when he finally had her again and though he couldn't say it - and didn't really want to open himself up that much - he certainly felt it.
Caim brought his gaze off of her and instead, looked to the rest of the class. Then he pulled a brazen, uncharacteristic maneuver. At least one she'd likely see as brazen. His pupils would likely see nothing. His neck craned so he might brush his cheek to hers and settled his lips at the corner of her mouth. Added reassurance.
I am pleased to have you here with me today.
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For they existed, such a long time with her, those ugly thoughts that were her companion in the hopeless of times, the painful of day and nights. And even now, in these more brighter days they crept alongside her jealousy, made louder her fears of losing her brother.
If the worry lingered, it was only as voice in the back of her head and an unwelcome bitterness in her mouth as she looked to the class with little attention actually to. There was certainly no reason for Furiae to expect then, as she simply sat there, to suddenly receive that tender affection from Caim. The feel of him, near to her lips, on her skin; the princess couldn't react at first, as if there was nothing to react to. It was so out of place, that such a thing couldn't have possibly been. Her thoughts had been extinguished and made blank.
But a second went by, and with it Furiae's stillness; she looked back to her brother once more, and upon her face was a look that could easily be read by any in the room that saw it, so obvious that it was.
And Furiae hadn't forgotten where they were; that only added to the shock to receive what, yes, could only be described as a brazen act. So much, that even then in her reaction, Furiae could not speak any words to her brother. Only a hand lifted to the side of her face, as if it would somehow confirm that a face was there to be kissed, but nothing was spoken but the question in her eyes meant for Caim.
Her heart was far from quiet though, dancing in the suddenness, and sending the blood flowing through her much quicker than it had been a moment ago.
And all she had to do was stay seated in a chair.
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It made the world hurt a little less, and Caim had no intentions of admitting that he, the invincible prince of a lost land, could be hurt by anything.
Her look was reason enough for him to give her a smile, not even caring if anyone else in the classroom saw. He appeared pleased, or perhaps genuinely touched that he held such influence over her. A tainted brother - more tainted than he - would have used that to his advantage. And somewhere inside of him, Caim doubted he was incapable of precisely that, but the desire to harm Furiae in any such way was so distant that he knew he would have hated himself for it.
Do you still think I wish you to be far from me? His mouth moved slowly for her benefit, as if he might possibly be able to get the words across.
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But maybe it was because her scared heart was still known to him, despite the words he had promised her - words that she had accepted. Yet still, her doubt... it was too hard not to be frightened deep inside.
Saying no words, she shook her head and apologised by the expression that replaced the one before it, her lips copying the shape of what Caim's had been. Though he mouthed the words slowly, somehow, she still mistook them to be a rather different question.
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She knew not that she - the Goddess - died by his hand, and he still could not tell her. Probably wouldn't be able to ever. Just another secret to hold inside of himself until it drove him to another brink. He'd have to hold onto his composure for a bit longer, however. For her sake. For Ai's sake. For Mac's sake. For the people who were actually worth a damn.
When she looked perplexed, he tapped her gently upon the tip of her nose. I love you. Seemingly uncharacteristic in any other moment than the one he shared with his sister. He thought it would be explanatory enough, though. Then she could stop thinking she was a burden on him.
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She had gotten better in some ways - the martial arts class made her stronger and in better shape and taught her some basic techniques (though the teacher was questionable at best), but she wanted to learn more. Hence this fencing class.
Of course, she remembered what happened on Valentine's Day. It was a vague memory, one that she actively tried to block out, but she remembered not feeling like herself at all. And Caim was involved. Somehow the two of them had seemed to fall head over heels for each other, but once the day was over, the feeling left completely. Chell was actually quite embarrassed that she let her guard down so easily, but she had found out it was the work of - yet again - robots. Of course.
So when she sat in the back of the class, she still felt slightly awkward. Her gaze didn't quite meet Caim's. While she didn't have any romantic feelings for the man, she still found him interesting at the very least. And she really hoped that it would stay that way.
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Still, it was difficult to put out of his mind the way they'd looked at one another. Was it the potential of the humanity each still held? Was it something deeper? Subconscious feelings for each other? He refused to believe that. They didn't even know much of one another, save that he had saved her during the mistletoe invasion and they had made the unfortunate mistake of acting as lovers for the ridiculous holiday celebration.
He took a moment to look between his sister and Chell, wondering how much the former really knew. For Caim was aware of Furiae's bouts of jealousy. When she allowed them to exist, at any rate. She was still young and impressionable after all.
And finally, he lifted a hand and gave Chell a welcoming half-bow. Like the motion to bow without the actual incline of his body.
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Still, Chell at least could treat him with respect, since that's what he was doing to her.
So she nodded in response to his greeting, though the expression on her face didn't change much from its neutral look.
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Eventually he made his way over to her desk and found his head tipping as he offered up his jotter for her.
I was unaware you had such an interest in blades.
A pleasant surprise at the very least.
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When he approached her, she looked up inquisitively, trying to read his expression. Fortunately it wasn't too difficult, given the situation. He wanted to know what she was doing here.
So she nodded, confirming his assumption. There was a determination in her eyes then, a glint that showed her enthusiasm to learn to defend herself.
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Have you ever used a sword before?
For if she had, clearly his class had just gotten fifty fold more interesting. And he wouldn't have minded that in the least.
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Slowly she shook her head in response.
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No matter. It is what you are here to learn. I shall teach you to be light upon your feet, to move with a sharp grace.
With the reserved curve of his mouth, it was hard to deny that he was interested in what she'd be capable of. She certainly didn't look very graceful. In fact, she looked rather clunky and it'd be more than a little entertaining to see how she handled things.
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But she would probably look fairly clunky wielding a blade, and the thought did slightly embarrass her. But not enough to stop her. In fact, she had gotten over most embarrassment years ago. If she would be mocked for her technique, then so be it - as long as she learned and could put it to use.
So she gave a light smile in return with a hint of determination. She was ready.
Re: ATTENDANCE
Caim... She remembered him. She knew what he had done. But he seemed somewhat normal now. Whether that was his faking or not was up for debate, but whatever it was, she wasn't about to fully trust him yet. That being said, she was prepared to treat him with the respect she would afford to any instructor and see what he could teach her.
She nodded to him as she entered the room and took her seat.
Re: ATTENDANCE
He wasn't about to be outwardly rude, however, which he supposed was a little more 'human' of him. And instead, after he got over his initial hesitance, he waved her in as nonchalantly as he possibly could. Although in hindsight, he doubted he looked very nonchalant at all.
QUESTIONS [For Furiae/Caim]
LURKERS
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But there was a look of curiosity on his face, and a hint of amusement in the scrutiny of his eyes. Wasn't he the computer guy?]
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Naoya, however, didn't look like he belonged at all. Not that Caim had much room to speak. He wasn't dressed for sparring and didn't have the intention to be. Demonstration only and if his students could learn to not rely on armour all of the time, it was better.
It didn't stop Caim from eying Naoya with a clear suspicion, however. What was it about the guy? And he finally decided that it was less Naoya's presence as it was simply that he was unfamiliar and Caim had to admit he didn't have much comfort with anyone he didn't remotely know.]
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Calmly, the programmer folded his arms underneath the long sleeves of his haori.] Don't let me interrupt you.
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Both eyebrows raised and he found himself nodding. He began to turn, but finding his curiosity got the better of him, his attention turned back onto his lurker - jotter in hand and written words.]
An observer, are you.
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Yes, I suppose I am. Your name sounded familiar to me, so I was curious if you happened to be someone I knew. However, I see now that I was mistaken.
[Yet it didn't sound like this error was an unanticipated one, at all. He seemed quite content to ponder this stranger's identity rather than take his leave. Some names were names, and nothing more - but others were a badge of prophecy for those who wore it.]
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Perhaps Caim was used to people laughing at him.His expression did show a slight surprise, however, when Naoya explained why he'd come. His name was familiar. His name. Of all things, his name. But then that was highly improbable that people didn't know him. Likely everyone in the town knew who he was. That was to be expected. After Caim's little homicidal stunts, it was hard to forget a guy like him.]
Someone you happened to know. I can certainly reassure you I have never seen you prior to today. I assume you have only recently arrived.
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Only yesterday, actually. It seems we are both strangers to each other, then.
Do you know what your name means, Caim?
[Possibly he was the only person thus far to show more interest in Caim's etymology instead of his rather infamous actions. There was a playful air to Naoya's voice, one born from the confidence of knowing more than he let on.]
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Now that Naoya was mentioning it, however...
He shook his head.]
I was unaware it had any specific meaning attached to it.
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A name can be a wish, a hope... or a curse.
In the Gaelic tongue, it is another version of the name, Cain... the very first murderer. But according to the Mabinogion - a collection of Celtic folklore - the name belongs to a protective spirit. Two very contradictory things.
[The unspoken question was, of course, which of the two did this Caim happen to be?]
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What is this man's angle?
And Naoya didn't know him. Really? Truly?]
......
[His posture shifted and he nodded slowly. He played both sides. Blood stained his hands. But he also had a protective streak where his sister was concerned. And Ai. And Mac. Anyone he considered family or an ally of sorts. He literally was both sides of the coin.]
I was entirely unaware. I would assume the name was given to me not with the former in consideration.
[He still had no idea what to think of Naoya, and that was probably obvious.]
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I should hope not. To kill your brother and wander the Earth eternally as punishment... I don't know many parents who would wish Cain's fate on their children.
[He knew nothing of the man Caim truly was, of course - the programmer was only calling upon the knowledge he held of Celtic culture. But from the way Caim's eyes turned their attention back to him was telling of some sort of note that struck true.]
We can only play the hand we're dealt, of course - knowingly or not.
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That does appear to be the case. Fate is not always kind to its spawn.
[It was something he understood well enough. There was no reason for him to hide that either. But he had no intentions to spill anything out.]
And you are...?
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How rude of me - my name is Naoya. I just started as the teacher for computer programming and IT technician.
I don't expect our work will have us running into each other very much, but I hope we get along regardless.
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An instructor as well. Undoubtedly if not for occasional passings, our paths will cross at the various celebrations. I believe there is to be one in very short time, actually. The students evidently need some form of reward to continue attending their classes.
[Spoken like a true instructor. Caim was really getting into his role.]
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It'd been a long time since last he had to hold a blade in his hand. He remembered everything with complete clarity, but his physical fitness and muscle memory didn't carry over.]
Just a milestone to mark each passing year - their youth won't last forever. Life itself is hardly worth living, without the occasional reward.
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Thinking over his words, Caim was fairly certain he didn't agree. That he couldn't agree. But that was his own jaded and cynical outlook peeking through. Life wasn't much of a reward when there wasn't much to live for. At least that had been the perception before he'd landed himself in Smash Academy.
He was given some form of existence in the present, even through all of the ill he'd forced others to endure. He still had Mac, after all, and Ai, his sister, Vianca. He wasn't as horribly off as he had been back in Midgard.]
So then we train pupils as though they were little dolls or animals. As if they were miniscule pets.
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[Of course, when it came to Naoya's opinion of other people, the vast majority weren't worth his time to think about, and the rest he regarded much in the same way - as pets or momentary amusements. Nothing permanent, and no one who could ever make a lasting mark on his heart. Well, none that he would ever admit.]
Is this the life you thought you'd be leading?
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Naoya's question caused him to raise his eyebrows once again and he gave something of a dismissive shake of the head.]
No. It could be worse.
[And that was true. Dying was worse.]
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Let hell is his class not being stalked by this guy. ]
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Why was the hedgehog tormenting himself? It was mostly Caim's thought as he watched Shadow remain on patrol. As if Caim was going to burst with swords or something and commit mass murder in his own classroom.
He cocked an eyebrow in vague disbelief.]
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[...Well, mainly he's wondering if there's any basass tricks he can do with them. He watches, waiting for something cool to happen that he can emulate, and ponders his own ideas in the meantime. Maybe he can twirl a sword... or juggle a sword at the same time he juggles guns... is it possible to cut a bullet in half after firing it?... hmmmmmm...]
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It's eventual that Caim should stop at his side, same hand at his hip. The other motions idly and silent words accompany him. Is there something here that you need? Unspoken, but not without the typical mute speak - consisting of a moving mouth and no sound actually coming out. In short, to someone who doesn't know him, the motion itself is likely a little awkward.
Or just strange.]
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[Ocelot catches Caim's shoulder with one hand--personal space, what's that?--and gestures enthusiastically towards one of the swords with the other. He's a little too excited to be bothered by Caim's unconventional introduction.]
I saw a movie once that had a man use a blade to split a bullet in half after firing it. I want to do that. Can you show me how I should do the sword part of the trick?
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It's a shame he doesn't have one now.
He lofts an eyebrow and for many moments, he simply stares. Then he moves to reach for his jotter of paper and the pen attached to it. And he writes.]
This is not playtime.