Caim of Caerleon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
loverofinnocence) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
smash_logs2013-03-20 05:42 pm
loverofinnocence) wrote in smash_logs2013-03-20 05:42 pm
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
Now that Naoya was mentioning it, however...
He shook his head.]
I was unaware it had any specific meaning attached to it.
no subject
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?]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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...?
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[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?
no subject
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.]