smash_logs | This is the time to remember, though they will not last forever...

This is the time to remember, though they will not last forever...

Who: Everybody! Yeeaaah!
What: Graduation and Prom!
When: The evening of June 8th.
Where: The Stadium.
Warnings: Everything. Everyone. You know who you are. You Know Who You Are.

Whether you've been here every year for what seems like eternity, or this is your first time, nothing quite compares to the feeling of Graduation Day.

title or description

The Stadium was decked out in school colors and the lights were bright. The stage was simple, classy and bereft of decoration barring the happy, smiling faces of your Headmasters and Teachers. (Those of them who do smile, at any rate.) Congratulations on your impending steps forward, those of you who made it through the school year! Hope your gowns are clean and your hats are appropriately be-tassled!

Of course, such pomp and circumstance can't go on forever. Once all the formalities and diplomas and congratulatory Hand shakes are out of the way, we have Prom! There's tables and chairs set up at the other end of the Stadium, and a huge table covered in all manner of finger foods guaranteed not to dribble or splatter on your rental tux or beautiful dress - so long as you're careful, anyway. And don't forget the dance floor and the plethora of music picked just for all of you to dance to! Tonight should be a night to remember!

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[[OOC: Hey there, Smashies! You know the drill, right? It's Graduation! Here's last year's if you need a refresher on how this works. The basics go like this - Graduatiuon itself is broken into several parts. Once the last part, Dismissal, is posted up, that's your cue to make your own top-level threads for Prom! But please don't hesitate to continue tagging Graduation stuff.

If you have any problems, don't hesitate to ping a Mod!]]

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"I guess, not, no. I mean, I'm not sure what I expected him to be like in his off-hours, but. Definitely not this." He immediately regrets trying to mess with the tie at all. Harpuia fixing it like that is incredibly awkward, and really uncomfortable. Fefnir was just trying to make sure it didn't fall off, he didn't want it actually on properly or anything.

"I get that he's a legendary soldier and all, but. I figured there'd be a bit more to him than that. Or that he'd at least ENJOY what he does, instead of being like... Well, I'd compare him to you, but I think even you're less boring than Zero is."

Such was the price of being related to Harpuia: lifetime of being fussed over. Anyway, it looked so much nicer like that! Clearly, Fefnir should make a habit of looking neat and tailored all the time. Clearly.

"I'd almost call that a compliment if I didn't know better." Ah, yes, less boring than Zero. Still, judging from the almost-kinda begrudgingly amused note in his voice, it was an honour he was willing to take. "I can't say I know how to account for his behaviour, either, to be honest. As far as I can tell, he doesn't see himself as anything but a soldier."

Yeah, no. Fefnir's just going to keep tugging on it and loosening it until it comes undone again. No way is he actually keeping it looking like that.

"I see myself as a soldier too, but. I actually enjoy it. Always kinda figured he did too, and was just the quiet type on the battlefield, opened up more when he was off it. Went back to base and told stories and raised everyone's morale. You know, hero stuff. Now I'm actually getting to know him, and... I really don't even know what to think. He's not a hero the way X was, that's for sure."

Sigh. And after Harpuia worked so hard to get it looking tidy.

"Don't even compare the two of them," Harpuia chided. "Assumptions like that are the first step to misreading someone, Fefnir." Everything he understood X to be -- gentle, determined to avoid violence at all costs, warm and sheltering -- it felt impossible to pin those qualities onto Zero.

"Very few of us could ever be a hero like Master X was," he said quietly.

"How the hell can I NOT compare them?" Fefnir gives Harpuia a bit of an incredulous look. "So far as I can tell from the files we've got on the past, the two of them were pretty much inseperable, and pretty much equally important and powerful heroes." History wasn't exactly Fefnir's strong suit, but he knew that much, at least. He made sure to study up on powerful fighters of the past a bit harder than other aspects.

"History sure always made it sound like Zero was a hero like him, but. I dunno if they're wrong, or he just... Well, like you said, he acts like he was just activated. Which he kinda was, really."

"You and I are close, and we were both equally important to human society, but look at how different we are." More or less complete opposites, in fact. "I don't think they could have been as inseparable as history claims them to be if they were exactly the same."

That much was rooted in Harpuia's own experience, at least. As much as Fefnir and Leviathan may have worn his nerves thin on occasion with their impulsive and fickle natures, he would never have been even a fraction as effective without them. Bossy as he may have sort-of-kind-of been, it would have been far too easy to tune out all other viewpoints entirely.

"Whatever he might have once been, though, you're right... in a sense, he was just activated. It doesn't make sense to expect him to be exactly as he might've been centuries ago, does it?"

"Not quite equal. We weren't both offered the chance to rule Neo Arcadia in Master X's place." He doesn't sound bitter about that fact, more just reminding him. Fefnir had no interest in taking a position of power like that, after all. "I get your point, though."

"Master X said he had the same heart as the original Zero, but... that doesn't mean he's really the same person anymore." Fefnir frowns, looking down at the ground for a bit. This is probably the most he's ever talked about Zero that wasn't related to official matters. ...Granted, ranting endlessly about how much he's looking forward to fighting him again and his new moves that are going to reduce the legendary reploid to ash weren't quite official, but. They were related to his job, at least. This is more... personal, than he's ever gotten before, in regards to his actual thoughts and feelings about him.

"I think it's clear he's got the same fighting skills, though. That was good enough for the Resistance, and it's always been good enough for me!" There, that feels better... much more natural for him.

It was a little strange to think how circumstances could change them. For all his pushiness, Harpuia had not actually considered Fefnir and Leviathan underneath them -- his secret command of Neo Arcadia had not so much been him declaring himself the new Master X as it had been a makeshift band-aid keeping Neo Arcadia going in a crisis. Nor had he ever expected that Fefnir, of all reploids, might think about Zero as anything other than a challenge to pursue.

"I think you've matured a little, Fefnir," Harpuia observed, the teensiest hint of wry amusement in the remark. "I'm not so sure whether that's good enough for Zero himself, especially since our fighting skills aren't needed as much here... but I suppose it's not any of my business how he acts."

Though Harpuia was pretty good at making just about everything his business, there was still no getting around that fact: it was much easier to consider Fefnir on his side than Zero. "Truthfully, I'm much more concerned about you."

Fefnir didn't exactly expect it either, to be fair. He'd never had any plans of seeing Zero as anything else. Zero was his enemy and rival, and they were going to fight, and keep fighting until one of them died. That was the plan. Now, though. He has to work with Zero. They're colleagues. They usually spend a lot of time in the security office. Not talking to each other or anything, usually, but. Not getting along, but. Not fighting each other. Fefnir can't help but seeing him as more than just a challenge now.

"Huh? Why, what's there to be concerned about with me?" Many things, probably, but he'd like to know what Harpuia's referring to specifically this time.

Many, many things, indeed.

On the bright side, there'd be no lectures or criticism or nitpicking this time around. "We've had to accept a lot of things since we arrived here," he pointed out. A bit of an understatement, really: Leviathan's conspicuous absence, the knowledge of what had become of Neo Arcadia, being pulled away from the combat-oriented role that he had thrived in, making all the awkward compromises that came with being an ordinary civilian... he was sure that if asked what he'd prefer, Fefnir most certainly wouldn't want to be at a desk next to Zero or crammed into a suit at a prom.

Having to get along, having to play nice, not having any sort of outlet for the kind of fierce energy Harpuia knew Fefnir for... that had to be difficult, surely. "You've done well adapting to this place, but we've all been under pressure."

"I just keep myself busy." Fefnir shrugs a bit, not seeing it as much of an accomplishment. He's never been one to live in the past, and he's trying not to let it all affect him. Avoid thinking about it as much as possible. "Do patrols, occasionally break up a fight. Practice in the school's stadium." He's been doing a lot of that. Not quite as intense or rewarding as real combat, but it keeps his skills sharp. "It's not all that different from how things were before the Resistance showed up. There'd be the occasional Maverick, but mostly, it was quiet."

Edited 2015-06-15 00:21 (UTC)

~~"okay wait never mind you're grounded forever" harpuia decided in light of other threads~~

"Are you sure about that, Fefnir?" Harpuia asked, tone of voice implying he didn't necessarily believe adjusting to their new circumstances was as effortless as Fefnir was suggesting it was. He had seen how Fefnir had reacted when he'd first heard of Neo Arcadia's fate. He'd seen how poorly Fefnir had handled their first time leaving their armour behind.

"Personally, I can't help but wonder if you're looking for some sort of outlet." He was the deeply passionate, straightforward sort -- not the kind that was so easily compatible to the passivity of their new roles, at least as far as Harpuia believed.

"Yes, Harpuia, I'm looking for an outlet. That is in fact why I said that I'm just keeping busy." He repeats himself, more sarcastic than deeply passionate, but still as straightforward as ever, at least. "I was correcting you, not agreeing with you. I haven't done anything to actually adapt. I just... do my job. You're the one that's really making the most effort here."

"As usual," Harpuia couldn't resist adding.

"If that's the case... provided you behave during your off hours, I wouldn't be opposed to seeing this stadium. I'm not Zero, but I imagine I could put up a worthwhile challenge." Harpuia may not have liked looking for challenges the way Fefnir or Leviathan did, but sparring was at least something familiar to all of them. He couldn't imagine how long it had been since Fefnir'd had a proper fight to look forward to, either, and that was the best Harpuia could offer.

"Now, THAT would be fun. The holographic targets I programmed in just aren't enough of a challenge. Having a round or two or two with you would be a great change of pace!" The answer was way, way too long... Of course, knowing Fefnir, he'd probably consider about an hour without a proper fight way way too long, so it doesn't exactly mean that much, but still.

That may be so, but they had precious few things to be looking forward to in this purposeless existence they were stuck with. If he could help with that, even just a little... Harpuia allowed himself to smile, just for a second.

"Then I'll gladly indulge you... just remember: if you behave. I wouldn't mind seeing you putting in as much effort as I am, Fefnir."

"Hey, I got the suit, didn't I? And look, I'm even wearing it!" Fefnir tugs on the suit's collar for emphasis, inadvertently making it pop and stick out. "How much more effort do you expect me to put in?"

And once again, Harpuia reached over to fuss with Fefnir's suit. There would be no popped collars on his watch. Only the most immaculate and professional of attire allowed.

"Slightly more than the bare minimum would be nice," he suggested. "Do I need to remind you of your blatant misbehaviour when we got fitted for these in the first place?"

"Harpuia, stop messing with my suit. It's getting on my nerves." He defiantly re-pops his collar out of spite. Fefnir doesn't actually care about the appearance, he's just sick of Harpuia invading his personal space. You're not his mom, Harpuia!

"...So what're you suggesting, then? You want me to go pretend to drink punch for a while, or what?"

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This is the time to remember, though they will not last forever...

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