smash_logs | Dorm Log: School's in session

Dorm Log: School's in session

Who: All of Smash.
What: Dorm log! September edition.
Where: Student and Teacher dorms, and quite possibly beyond campus.
When: The span of September 15th - 30th.
Warnings: HAHAHAHAHA.

Ripped off the last one and all its friends: Basically, here's how this works. We all know our characters experience downtime after classes and their busy schedules, and this is a good venue for those kinds of miscellaneous dorm-shenanigans to take place. Not only does it give your characters the easy chance to meet new people in a laid-back environment, but it's a good mechanism for strengthening CR. It's easy!

Feel free to begin in any way you please! Plan with (a) fellow player(s) if you'd like! Or, set up a thread and wait for characters to bite! Just add a thread with the room number (and date/time, if it matters) and the characters that reside there (just for reference!). You do not have to use one character's thread as a dual-purpose for both characters if you do not want to. Doesn't have to be a dorm room, either, if you have something else in mind. It could be the common room or the student science lab or wherever. So how's that first week of school been treating you? How big's your pile of homework? Sure, you could be doing that. But why do that when you could decimate your friendships by playing a round of Giana Party 4? Host a girl's-only slumber party! Spy on a girl's-only slumber party! Dare someone to spend the night in the haunted dorm! Slip a (fake) love letter beneath that special someone's door! Etcetera, etcetera... I'm sure you can think of something to get your bad self up to.

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He'd picked an opportune moment to show up. Caim was perfect content with his personal space and time. He'd taken it to practise his own technique. Part of understanding how to teach his pupils was understanding how he moved. But it was hard to explain instinct. A sword felt like an extension of his arm. It felt like it became a part of him. Like Caim was the blade.

As he extended his arm and his lines, he likened it dancing, because that's what it was like. Sword art was just as beautiful. Although in the back of his mind, he thought it far more interesting to watch the way his opponents scattered.

When Naoya addressed him, his posture straightened and he turned to the doorway. Then he lifted a hand and waved in the man, having not forgotten him from their last meeting. And coincidentally their first.

Taking that as a signal to enter, Naoya invited himself in and walked over to Caim. Ah, silence. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like last time, to speak and for the response to be utterly devoid of sound. It certainly made him feel like he had to speak more, as though to compensate for the lack of words and to prevent the air from going stale.

What was it that caused this defect, he wondered. Was it internally or externally induced?

"Already busy at work, I see." Naoya tilted his head to admire the blade in Caim's hand. "You have beautiful form. Devoid of hesitation, carving a path as though it were second nature." This observation made the programmer's persistent smile look quite pleased. "As it should be."

Caim had not considered, neither did he care much, what Naoya thought of his condition. 'Condition.' As if the very word implied it was a curable disease, something the prince had long since put from his mind. If he'd had a voice, what was the likelihood of him even using it? Would there even be a point? Did he even have anything to say?

No. Not particularly. No sense in voicing unending disappointment.

He put his fencing sword aside and paused by the whiteboard with dry erase marker in hand.

I am more than a little familiar with a blade. My instruction of it is not a foreign concept.

There he went again, having to put everything down to write out his words. Surely there was a more efficient way to dictate his thoughts. Naoya crossed his arms, ruminating over ideas in his head as he did so. Well, he couldn't help but let his thoughts wander - technology created solutions, and he considered himself a master of its possibilities.

"Far be it for me to doubt your abilities, hahaha... I very much believe you'd be a most efficient killer of men," chuckled Naoya - while his tone was jovial, his eyes spoke seriously. He meant what he said. "It just seems difficult to take up instruction of such a physical subject through the written word."

I very much believe you'd be a most efficient killer of men.

He was. How... observant of him? An educated guess? Caim had a hard time pinpointing which it was. And he wasn't going to. He wasn't so curious that he had to know. As far as he was concerned, Naoya was talking simply to fill the silence and that was fine.

My sister provides vocal instruction on my behalf.

It was probably the first and only time that he felt interested in being so upfront about the assistance that he had. Furiae was permitted to help him only because she was of his blood. He doubted he would have accepted it from anyone else. In fact, he was reasonably certain that he wouldn't.

"Well, that sounds inconvenient," he remarked playfully. As though satisfying some little curiosity of his, Naoya picked up the sword that had been put down and tested the weight of it in his grip. His arm certainly wasn't strong enough to wave one around with great proficiency anymore, but his form was still on point as he casually wielded it.

"For instance, she's not here right now, is she?"

Caim cocked an eyebrow. Inconvenient? Hardly.

He watched Naoya for longer than a few moments, wondering if the man had any talent for the sport at all. He looked like he had potential, which was better than not having any, but to be fair, the prince hadn't watched him enough to get a really good gauge on possibility. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Hardly. She only assists me for the class. I do not need her to translate anything further for me.

Well, it was inconvenient for Naoya and that's all that really mattered. Even if he did have words, the programmer could very much believe that Caim would be laconic in its use anyway. But a man of few words was still more interesting than a man of none.

"Well. She sounds like quite a thoughtful sibling, nonetheless." This 'Cain' must have made for an interesting brother himself. Casually, Naoya commented, "The two of you must be close, for her to know your mind so well."

She is thoughtful, yes. Her assistance is unnecessary, however she did offer it and we are close enough that I would not reject it.

Not to say Caim hadn't thought about turning her kindnesses aside, for he most certainly had. Just that at the end of the day, Furiae's protection, secured future, and happiness were among his priorities. He felt no need to explain that, however, and got the impression that Naoya would put it together sooner or later.

She is a student here. I would not be surprised if you had seen her in passing. We look enough like one another, but perhaps too easily plain and therefore not easily recognised as siblings.

"I've a good memory for faces," Naoya informed him. Just another facet of his curse, after all. He could recall a girl of that description on campus, but had no cause or care to interact with her.

He lowered the sword - form aside, his skinny arms didn't have the training or muscle to keep the length of metal held up for too long without tiring. What a shame. Well, it's not like he really needed a blade in order to fight anyway.

"A sibling is indeed a bond to be treasured. You're quite fortunate to both be here with her."

Caim nodded slowly, as if he was hesitant to agree with it. Not because it wasn't true, but rather because it was one of those things that he wasn't sure how confident he felt that Naoya would get that so easily. But was it really that convenient? No, perhaps not. He liked thinking he had a better way of hiding information about himself.

I am, yes. I can admit to that.

But it was also the entire academy that was fortunate to have her there with him as well, for if she hadn't been, especially with Ai being gone, Caim couldn't say everyone was safe. He couldn't say he had such a strong grasp over his sanity. He tried not to think about what things would be like without Furiae there.

Have you any siblings?

Naoya's smile took on an enigmatic tint as he glanced away to ponder the question. For most people it would be a pretty simple yes or no answer, but he seemed to be mulling on how much information he was willing to divulge.

"In a sense," he said after a pause. As though to occupy his eyes, the programmer tasked his gaze towards studying the hilt of the sword in his hands.

"When my parents died, I was taken in by my aunt and uncle. They bore a son of their own shortly after. I consider him a sibling nonetheless." Naoya's smile grew wider thinking of him, a dark sentimentalism in his eyes that oddly looked out of place. "In spirit, at least, he is truly my brother."

Edited 2013-10-01 01:35 (UTC)

Good. They were speaking the same language, essentially. Caim could not only understand, but also respect it because he was doing the same thing. And even he hadn't, it was an easy enough situation to understand. No sense in being too free with information. No sense in it in a place like the academy either. Everything was brief and fleeting, and the world could have been easily destroyed the day following. Best just to keep everything under wraps.

Leaning onto his desk, Caim listened. Not like he could do anything else, anyway. Not like he was particularly interested in anything else, anyway. He gave something of a nod, likening it to probably a relationship he and Inuart had shared.

As much a brother as one by blood, in my opinion.

Not that he'd asked.

Certainly there was no reason Caim needed to know that Naoya's cousin, in truth, held the reincarnated essence of the brother he murdered lifetimes ago. The 'in spirit' remark had been very literal. But the fencing instructor's reply seemed to please the programmer nonetheless.

"That's right," he said, a hint of pride and fondness to his voice. There was a clatter as he placed the fencing foil back on the table he swiped it from - though his fingers lingered along the contour of its hilt, admiring it with a faint caress.

"Perhaps it's just as well he's not here. I'm sure he'd be needlessly interested in my work as well."

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Dorm Log: School's in session

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