Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on May 17, 2021 19:17:09 GMT -5
Orpheus relaxed a little bit as L spoke, the awkwardness sliding off of him as easily as though it had never been there. He had expected L to be upset… mad, even… that he had wasted his time with the music. It seemed, however, that by some miracle L actually didn’t mind. Orpheus couldn’t help but be grateful. He finished packing up the instruments he’d been working on, ducking into a back room for a moment before reappearing and dusting himself off.
“Thank you,” he managed after a moment, still quite obviously blushing. “It was just… well, I was making it up on the spot, so it wasn’t as good as some of the stuff I normally play, I didn’t think anyone was listening – but it’s alright that you were, I meant it wasn’t a secret or anything… I… it was fun,” Orpheus managed, his blush deepening as he realized just how much he was rambling. Hopefully L wouldn’t mind. He was glad L wasn’t one of the popular kids – they probably wouldn’t have actually shown up to work on the project, but if they had, they’d probably be teasing Orpheus mercilessly for the uncoordinated flood of words that had just escaped him.
“It was fun,” he said again, managing to regain his composure at least a little bit. “How… have you been since class?”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on May 25, 2021 23:36:11 GMT -5
L didn’t mind that they were late to work on their project. Truth be told, he didn’t care about their project in the first place, and he thought he did care about the music Orpheus had been playing. So what if they didn’t work on their project today? L was confident in his ability to bs an assignment, it was one thing he’d done many times before and would undoubtedly do many times again.
“You can make up songs on the spot without writing them down first?” He asked curiously. “It was really good, though...I mean, it probably wasn’t the best if you didn’t practice, but I...liked it.”
He said the last two words in a much smaller, quieter voice, almost like he was ashamed to admit it, or ashamed to admit he was capable of liking things in general.
He hesitated, considering the question for a moment before he shrugged. “It's been school,” he replied. “But...okay. I guess you’re been here a while?” That seemed like a reasonable assumption to make, since he’d seemed pretty settled in. L didn’t reall6 want to start talking about the project, not when there were more interesting things to talk about, but he knew it was probably only a matter of time before it came up.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on May 27, 2021 0:17:08 GMT -5
Orpheus had done his fair share of making up an assignment a few hours before it was due, but he wasn’t as good at it as L probably was. He didn’t get as good of grades as L did, though. He was okay with the grades he got. He spent most of his time focusing on his music, anyway. He knew most people would probably consider it a waste of time, but Hermes was alright with it as long as Orpheus made sure not to drop below his B-average. Orpheus was very, very careful to do well enough that he could keep playing.
“Yep,” he replied, a sheepish smile spreading across his face, like he wasn’t used to people talking about his music like that. Like it was something special, like it wasn’t something that was just to be taken and used by people who were better at talking to others than Orpheus was. Like the music Orpheus made had value because it was Orpheus who made it. Or perhaps that the process of creation had value like the creation itself did.
“I’m really glad you liked it,” Orpheus admitted, seeming to get a little bit more comfortable with the conversation. “It might not become anything, but I like how it turned out, so a couple of those chord progressions might weasel their way into other stuff I’m working on…”
Orpheus’ experience with school wasn’t as negative as L’s, but he understood the sentiment. There were so many things that could be done if they didn’t have to constantly worry about school. It was a chore more than it was an experience.
“I’ve been here since class ended,” Orpheus said after a moment, shrugging. “So… yeah, I guess that’s a while. It’s really easy to lose track of time in here.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 3, 2021 13:04:40 GMT -5
Truthfully, L didn’t put that much effort into his grades. He didn’t care that much, he didn’t want to put a lot of energy into it. He got good grades because that was how his mind worked, not because he tried particularly hard.
He didn’t have many hobbies. He didn’t have music, like Orpheus did. Truthfully...his spare time was often spent getting into trouble in order to fend off boredom.
Maybe that was why he found the music so fascinating. It was so far from his skill set, he didn’t really recognize it very well...he didn’t know how to feel about something he didn’t know how to do. It had value because Orpheus made it, it had value because it existed at all. He didn’t know exactly why he liked it so much, but he found he wanted to hear it again.
“I’ve never written a song before,” he admitted, watching Orpheus curiously. “I don’t know how. It looks hard. Is it hard?”
He tilted his head a little, blinking at the other student. He could relate to losing track of time. He did that most of the time, truthfully...he didn’t know how people didn’t do that. How did they manage to keep up?
“That was a long time,” he agreed, glancing around the room with interest. “I don’t know how long it was though. Just a while.”
He’d been spending that time avoiding people, so maybe it wasn’t as long as it had felt.
“They don’t have a lyre in here, do they?” He added, looking at Orpheus again.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 3, 2021 17:31:28 GMT -5
“Hard?” Orpheus asked, tilting his head as he considered the question. It wasn’t as easy to answer as L seemed to think it was, so he had to take a few moments to find the right words. “It’s not… easy. I don’t think just anyone could walk in off the street and write a good song right off the bat. You have to learn a lot of things before you can do it. Like… what notes sound good together, and whether certain chord progressions are feasible on the instrument you’re thinking of playing, and then you have to have lyrics. And they don’t necessarily need to be deep, but they need to align with the tone of the song, and if they don’t, then you should probably have a good reason for doing that. So there’s a lot that you have to keep in mind, but it isn’t very difficult for me, because I’ve been doing it for a long time. For me… composing melodies is about as easy as breathing. But… but I’m terrible at science and math. And you do really well in both of those. Is science hard, in your opinion?” It was the most comparable thing he could think of. L was academically inclined, Orpheus wasn’t. Orpheus was musically inclined. L didn’t seem to be.
“A while,” Orpheus echoed, shaking off the thoughts that had flooded him in the brief moment of silence between them. “Hm? Oh… no, I don’t think there are any lyres here. If there are, I haven’t seen one. They’re pretty rare instruments, I think you have to order them special. And they aren’t exactly a staple for high school band. The instruments I just had out were all loaners for the band kids.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 7, 2021 1:27:31 GMT -5
L nodded a little, considering the answer very carefully. Hard was always going to be relative. What was hard for one person was easy for another, he couldn’t hope to get an objective answer. But he was curious whether Orpheus thought it was hard or not.
He was aware that he couldn’t write a good song, much less play one. At least he knew how words worked, generally speaking. The language of strings and beats was a foreign one to him.
“You’re saying practice makes perfect,” he replied, a little disappointed. That was what all the adults said, and he hadn't expected to hear it from a kid, too. He knew it wasn’t true. He’d had plenty of practice avoiding bullies and he still got shoved into lockers all the time.
He shook his head of the bitter thought, all too aware that it might show on his face if he wasn’t careful about it. He didn’t want to be questioned about his expressions, which meant it was better to hide them. It wasn’t like kids could ever win anyway, with the way adults were determined to think everything either funny or insulting. He’d much rather be accused of a thought he’d never had, rather than one he did.
“Oh,” he said quietly, concentrating hard on the conversation. He didn’t want to feel bitter at the moment. “Well...maybe you could make a request?”
Or maybe L could hack into the teacher’s email and send a request that way. He considered the idea idly, pretending successfully for the moment that Watari’s imaginary reproachful glance didn’t make his stomach squirm.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 7, 2021 2:23:11 GMT -5
“Not exactly,” Orpheus replied, sensing some of the disappointment in L’s tone. “When a grown up says that, they say it because they don’t think you’re trying hard enough, or you’re upset that you’re not good at something right away. I just mean that… well, it takes a lot of learning, but writing a song has always come a lot easier to me than doing a math problem. So I’d have to do a whole ton more practice to be decently passable at math, but I wouldn’t have to do nearly as much if I wanted to sit down and compose something.” There were also some things that Orpeus believed you could never get better at, though he didn’t want to say that out loud yet. He didn’t want to seem like a miserable cynic, but sometimes…
“I think perfect is stupid anyway,” he said suddenly, a smile crossing his features. “I think it’s perfectly fine to be passable in a lot of things, so long as it means you graduate school. So long as it means you live long enough to graduate school and you have enough time to do some of the things that you like, too. Then you can be really really good and put your energy practicing into things that you actually like doing instead of things that you don’t like doing, or things that you just do because you have to. You probably won’t improve too much if you really hate what you’re doing, because then you’re not motivated to get better.” If he knew that L was thinking about bullies… he would have told him that there were some things that you couldn’t do alone, no matter how hard you practiced. But he didn’t know.
“I’ve… never thought about making a request for a lyre,” Orpheus said, eyes widening with the potential of the idea. “Do you really think they’d be willing to buy one just cause I asked them to?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 9, 2021 16:58:13 GMT -5
Zuko loved tournament days. He thrived on the competition, on the chance to prove himself. He was one of the best. Fencing was one of the only things he was actually good at. Hours and hours and hours of practice and hard work had paid off, and though he had been underestimated by the team at first… he had earned his spot as the best fencer on the team. He had beaten almost every person there at least once. Sometimes more than once. He was intense, and he won fast. He didn’t play around, wasn’t one for fancy moves and turns (okay, he did like his dramatic leaps and flourishes from time to time), but he had learned not to mess around. Get in, win, get out. Don’t waste energy if you can manage not to.
Fencing was one of the few things that Azula couldn’t take away from him. She wasn’t on the team. She scorned the idea of it, saying she didn’t have time among her countless other pursuits. Zuko was perfectly happy with that.
Today he was facing… he frowned, glancing at the lineup he'd pulled up on his phone. Sam. He thought he recognized the kid – they were relatively scrawny, but they were quick on their feet. That wouldn’t be an issue. Zuko was quicker.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 9, 2021 17:21:31 GMT -5
Sal wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, but libraries were for more than that. You didn’t choose the book, it chose you. And if it was properly done, it didn’t release you for a good, long while, even after you finished it.
To be fair, Sal wasn’t looking to leave reality at the moment, either. He was meeting a friend. Sam, one-letter-off-from-my-name Sam, who was a friend in the way that people at school often were, which meant that they bonded through the pain of being a high schooler and might never have spoken otherwise.
Sal liked Sam, though. They were a decent person.
He settled into a seat within full view of the door to wait, expecting Sam to be slightly but not badly late, as usual. The books were calling him, and he was tempted to browse, but he knew how that would end, and it wouldn’t be with Sam feeling listened to.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 9, 2021 17:26:50 GMT -5
Three hours. Three hours before the tournament, before Sam was not only going to be beaten terribly, but also humiliated and probably worse. They had seen Zuko fight. He was good. He was really good. That wasn’t the issue. Sam was fine being beaten by good, but… but they had a feeling that Zuko was also mean. He hung out with Azula. He was dating Mai. Everything about him screamed that he could be just as cruel as they were. What would Zuko do to them after he won? Or would he just make the fight as cruel as possible because that was the kind of person he was? Sam had thought they could do it, but now… it was a good thing that Sal knew how to fence. They weren’t close, but they were friends, and they knew that Sal was much, much better at the sport than they were. They had seen some of Sal’s middle school tournaments, after all… he was amazing.
“Hey, Sal!” they called, voice not entirely quiet enough for the library. They wilted under the glare of the librarian, but they didn’t stop their direct path towards Sal. “I… need your help. Like… really bad.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 9, 2021 17:33:56 GMT -5
The tournament wasn’t high on Sal’s list of things he was thinking about, if he was honest. It would have been, once. He’d been almost obsessed with it, he’d been determined to be the absolute best he could be, not so much to beat everyone else, but to improve and show he could be good at something. He’d had the sense that he was a bit mediocre at everything for most of his life. It wasn’t something he’d say bothered him a ton, but...well, what was his passion? What did he love?
Once he’d dropped off the team, he knew they’d made changes, but he didn’t know what they were and he didn’t try to find out. He had left that part of him behind for a reason. It wasn’t where he was going, even if he missed it every now and then.
He looked up as Sam’s loud voice carried, and shook his head a little. Sam was the sort of person who could be called awkward accurately, but there was a better word for it, if only you could think of it. Sal personally hadn’t met anyone who’d ever thought of it, though. It was possible it hadn’t been invented yet.
“Hey, Sam,” he greeted, raising a hand. “What’s up? Homework troubles?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 9, 2021 18:03:33 GMT -5
“Hm?” Sam’s brow shot up at the question and they quickly shook their head. “No, no I’m doing okay in math right now, actually! I really like trigonometry so you uh… you don’t need to help me with that.” They had needed Sal’s help a lot the year before… proofs… vectors… there was nothing they liked about any of that, but Sal had been a near genius when it came to figuring it all out. That was probably how they had become friends, Sam thought. They hadn’t had as much reason to talk now that they weren’t in the same math class, but they still saw each other at lunch sometimes. And… now. When Sam was about to ask a huge favor.
“You’re good at fencing.” The words were abrupt, and Sam let them linger in the air for a few moments before continuing. “I just… I mean… you are, and I’m on the team and we have a tournament today… and I’m up against…” they glanced around, eyes narrowed as they realized the quiet atmosphere would allow anyone nearby to hear their every word. They lowered their voice a little bit more, the whisper only for Sal’s ears. “I’m up against Zuko. And he’s scary. And not just scary good, like… scary scary.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 9, 2021 18:40:01 GMT -5
Sal blinked, a little surprised that it didn’t have to do with math. That was what he was good at, here. No one here knew he also liked cats and played the guitar, or that he wanted to own a motorcycle but couldn’t convince his dad to let him get one.
He blinked, startled. Fencing...he hadn’t let himself think about that in a long time.
“I’ve never met him,” he confessed, shaking his head a little. “I don’t think...Sam, I haven’t played in a while. I quit, remember? How could I beat someone who’s been training all that time?”
He wasn’t at all sure what Sam was thinking. He’d been good, fine, but he didn’t think he had been a prodigy or anything.
“Scary like...mean?” He added just as quietly. “Did he threaten you or something? Is that why you don’t want to go up against him?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 9, 2021 19:25:42 GMT -5
“They say it’s like riding a bike,” Sam replied, crossing their arms as they watched Sal. The truth was… they couldn’t have Sal say no. “You’ll probably be pretty good still… you’re gonna be a lot better than me, at least. I mean… I’ve seen you. You’re amazing. You know how to do so many more things than I do.” The compliments could have seemed like flattery, but in Sam’s case they were genuine. Just… a little bit desperate on top of the genuineness.
“He didn’t threaten me or anything, but he… well, he’s really intense about how he fights. And…” they trailed off, brow furrowing as they looked around once more. “You know Azula, right? He’s her brother. And he’s just as intense, but like… less smart. More likely to throw a punch than a cutting insult, but it’s still… I dunno. He’s scary, Sal! The only reason he’s even here is cause his dad is super powerful. That’s why he’s top ranked on the fencing team, and that’s why he isn’t failing any of his classes or anything – at least… that’s what people say. But I don’t wanna do something wrong when fencing him cause then his dad could get mad and he could get mad and just… people like you better than they like me. I just don’t want to be a target, and if you win… if you win, then you won’t be, because they won’t mess with you. But if I lose it proves they can mess with me, and I’m going to lose if I fight him.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 9, 2021 19:51:36 GMT -5
Sal gave Sam a look that suggested he didn’t quite believe that they said that, and if they did, then they were probably not trustworthy. Fencing was nothing like biking. Besides, he had the distinct impression Sam was willing to say anything that had even the smallest chance of making Sal agree. He didn’t like that much. He was willing to forgive it because Sam seemed to be genuinely desperate, not manipulative.
If there was one thing Sam definitely was, it was genuine.
He listened, not interrupting. So Zuko was related to Azula...yes, he knew of Azula. He was far from her Most Hated, but it wasn’t like there was a kid at school that didn’t feel her power. She did what she wanted without consequences, and she knew how to play people to her advantage. Yes, he knew what it meant that Zuko was as in her inner circle. You did get there by being kind and gentle.
A less smart Azula was bad news. He wouldn’t have her cunning, her knowledge that a blunt attack wasn’t as cruel. If he didn’t know that, he was much more likely to act out of emotion than planning. Which was a good way for Sam to get beat up.
It wasn’t like Sal knew how to fight any more, though. He wondered if he should have taken martial arts.
“And you want me to step in?” He said, looking at Sam. “As your replacement?”
It struck him as a semi selfish request, but he didn’t say so.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 9, 2021 23:31:54 GMT -5
Sam wasn’t meaning to be selfish. They just knew they were going to lose. They weren’t very skilled at the sport – they fenced because they liked it, not because they were going to be winning any tournaments, especially not against the best. Especially not against people who might play dirty. They thought Sal was better equipped for it, but they knew they probably had to at least try to offer something in return.
“I know you’re a little out of practice, but you’re much better than I would be. I just… if anyone can prove to him that he’s not the best, it’s you. If anyone can make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone because he thinks he’s better than them…” they knew it was a gamble. They knew that if it didn’t go well, they were putting Sal in danger, which wasn’t what they wanted to do. They just thought that if Zuko lost, he might be a little bit more understanding of the others that lost. Or, at the very least, he wouldn’t have a perfect record, which would make others realize that he was beatable.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Sam murmured a few moments later, searching Sal’s eyes. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’d ever be able to repay you for taking my place… but you’re the least likely person to get hurt because of it. You’ve beaten the best people on the team before. I saw you.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 9, 2021 23:40:36 GMT -5
Sal softened a little, trying to hold back the part of his brain that was cynically trying to decide if he was being played. This was Sam. Sam didn’t play people. They became their friend and gave them their dessert when they were sad
Zuko…Sal wondered why he’d never seen him around. Or maybe he had, and he’d just never learned his name...was he like his sister at all? Knowing Azula, if he wasn’t, he was probably a minion anyway. Azula didn’t have friends. She had pawns.
He wondered for the first time if maybe, he could actually do it. Could he beat the best on the team again? It had been a while, and he hadn’t been practicing, but...well. He had practiced a lot when he was younger. Maybe he really might have the skills still, collecting dust in his brain.
He sighed, and that was when he knew he was doing it. Sam was asking him to get them out of this. What was he going to do? Say no? Say it wasn’t his fight and walk away?
He could have done that. Or maybe he couldn’t have. Somehow, he thought it was probably the latter.
“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly. “I’ll do it. I’ll take your place.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 9, 2021 23:45:36 GMT -5
Sam’s sigh of relief was audible. They gave a wide smile, almost moving forward to give Sal a hug before realizing that they should probably ask first before doing anything like that. They were friends, but they didn’t actually know how Sal felt about personal space. Instead they leaned back, their smile becoming something small and uncertain on their features. “I owe you one,” they murmured. “Big time.” They were planning on spending the next few days figuring out exactly how they could possibly repay Sal for this. This was a risk, and for some reason, Sal was willing to take it for them. Sal was a good friend, even if they weren’t particularly close. Even if they had never hung out outside of school.
“Do you like baked goods?” they asked, eyes wide. “I mean… I’m good at baking. And I don’t really have another way to repay you, unless you want help with history homework or anything.” They blushed, realizing that nothing they could do would equal the favor Sal was doing for them. They were going to be there cheering Sal on, but that wasn’t quite enough. Zuko was intense. There was a reason they didn’t want to fight him.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 9, 2021 23:55:10 GMT -5
Sal could tell he’d made the right call, even if he wasn’t really looking forward to this. Sam was a friend, even if they weren’t a very close one, and he didn’t need an excuse to help out a friend. Even if the only way to help was to probably anger one of the worst bullies Sal had ever encountered. Not Zuko. Azula. But Zuko was probably in league with her, so same difference, really.
“You don’t...have to repay me or anything,” he added, surprised. “It's not a deal, it’s a favor. Besides, it sounds like this Zuko is a real piece of work. If I do win, that could help the other kids’ morale, right?”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to let himself start worrying about everyone’s morale. Once he started. It was hard to stop, and then he wouldn’t be able to help assuming everything was his fault somehow, and he’d take people’s bad moods as a personal attack, and who did that help?
“Hey, Sam?” He added after a moment. “Stay out of trouble, yeah? I don’t want my decision to bite you.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 10, 2021 0:03:03 GMT -5
L listened, blinking as he actually understood what Orpheus was saying.
It made sense. Things were easier for some people than for other people. L tended to assume he needed to be the best at absolutely everything he tried ever, but he was aware that some things were easier than others, even for him. Music wasn’t something he’d ever tried, so he didn’t know if he would be naturally good at it or not. He suspected the latter.
He wouldn’t have liked the idea of things you could never improve at. That would mean there were things he would be perpetually bad at. He wouldn’t have liked that at all.
His eyes widened as Orpheus continued. “You really think that? That...perfect is stupid?” He managed, shock clear in his voice. Perfect was what he strives for. Perfect was the only acceptable conclusion. He didn’t do his homework because he cared about it, he did it so he wouldn’t experience failure. It wasn’t interesting, and he rarely did things that didn’t interest him.
“I don’t know. You can get pretty good at things you hate,” he replied a little doubtfully. “But I guess you only do it if you have a reason to. Something worth it.”
He didn’t hate school. But he didn’t like it either, and generally that would have been a good enough reason not to do it. He didn’t like to think he had a fear of failure so much as a perfectionist streak. Only the streak was like the raspberry in chocolate raspberry ice cream. It took up at least 50% of him, probably more.
He hesitated, blinking at Orpheus for a moment as he considered. “I don’t know about adults,” he admitted finally. “They’re weird about things that cost money, even though I know for a fact they all have more than one hundred dollars. So...I guess you could always ask?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 10, 2021 0:03:37 GMT -5
“I know it’s a favor, but it’s a favor that’s not pleasant. So maybe I’m offering you baked goods and homework help as a thank you, not as a deal.” Okay, so maybe Sam did think about it a little bit like a deal, but they weren’t wrong when they said it was a thank you. Besides, it didn’t matter what Sal said. Sam was going to make him accept some form of compensation, it was just better if they knew it was something Sam actually liked or wanted.
“But… yeah. I think it’d really help out everyone on the team if you managed to beat him. He doesn’t really have any friends on the team or anything, and Azula’s not… well, she’s not really nice to any of us. She’s only nice to her little in-group.” They didn’t think they had to tell Sal that, but it did bear repeating. Zuko was part of the group. Sam just didn’t see how he could be anything beyond what his reputation said he was.
“I will,” Sam promised after a moment, giving a small smile. “You too. I don’t want you to get hurt because you said you’d fill in for me. That wouldn’t… well, it wouldn’t be very nice. And you don’t deserve that.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 10, 2021 0:15:44 GMT -5
Sal considered that for a long moment, but at the end of the moment, it still sounded a lot like a deal to him. He didn’t want to feel like he was doing this to get things out of it. That just felt cheap and bully-ish, and Sam deserved a friend who wouldn’t do that to them.
“Yeah...you know I really might not win, right?” He said carefully, meeting their eyes. It felt important that they know that before this continued. He didn’t look away as they mentioned Azula, but he gave a small nod of acknowledgment. He understood very well how it worked. Zuko was on the in crowd. Zuko could punch a teacher and get away unscathed. Sal was everyone else. Sal could win a fencing match fairly and he in trouble.
He really hated school.
“Yeah, I’ll watch my back,” he promised. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Which he didn’t know for sure, but he would do his absolute best to make it true.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 10, 2021 0:43:37 GMT -5
Sam couldn’t see Sal as a bully. Sal was just… too nice. And he tried so hard to do things for other people… no, there was no way that Sal could be a bully. It was just that Sam was aware that they were asking Sal to face one of the biggest bullies in school, and that meant he could get hurt. It was the least Sam could do to bake him something and offer homework help, which they likely would have done anyway.
“I know,” Sam replied quietly, not looking away. “I just… think you have a really good chance. A much better chance than me, at least.” They knew there were risks. They knew that the bullies could get away with almost anything they wanted. Ozai practically ran the school. He was on the Board of Trustees, for one thing. His kids… they could do almost anything they wanted with no consequences. Which was partially how Azula had gotten so infamous.
“Thank you again,” Sam murmured, eyes wide. “I’ll be cheering you on. And… and I hope you know that you’re a really, really good friend. Like… a really good friend.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 10, 2021 1:05:09 GMT -5
Sal nodded. He couldn’t deny that he probably did have a better shot at winning against the best the other team had to offer, having done it before. He wasn’t sure he could, but...he’d never been sure before, either. It didn’t mean he couldn’t.
He shook his head a little. “Don’t worry about it. Get a good seat, okay?”
It was a lot like stepping into a time machine.
Especially the smell. Sal hadn’t remembered the smell of a fencing tournament, but he did now, and it was overpowering. Did they all use the same brand of cleaner? Did every competitor eat the same snacks, drink the same brand of bottled water? Was he imagining the similarities, or was he submerging into a part of his past he’d tried not to look back at too much?
He didn’t know if he missed it or not.
Switching, as it happened, hadn’t been a big deal at all. Maybe the teachers wanted to see Zuko go down, too. Or maybe they felt a little sorry for Sam.
Either way, here he was. About to fight. About to fight a kid he wasn’t afraid of, but probably should have been.
There was no way this could go wrong.
He didn’t say it out loud.
“There is no way this could go wrong.” He muttered, and smiled, not caring if no one could see it.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 10, 2021 1:16:33 GMT -5
The name on the spreadsheet had changed. Sal Fisher. Zuko didn’t know who that was, but he found himself excited to face someone knew. He had spent a long time studying the fencing styles of everyone on the team. He knew their tricks, he knew where they were likely to target first, and he knew a lot of their weaknesses. He couldn’t win every time, but he had a pretty good track record. He struck fast because he knew a fight – a real one – was decided within the first couple seconds. They didn’t last as long as they did in the movies. Fencing was the same way. It was a lot of showmanship, but if you wanted to get your opponent on the ground, you struck out hard and fast at the outset.
It was going to take a little bit longer with this opponent, if only because he knew nothing about how he would fight. It was genuinely exciting.
Once the visor was in place, confidence and adrenaline began to flood Zuko in equal parts. He was ready for this fight. And whoever this Fisher kid was, Zuko was fully expecting to win. He would work for it, like he always did, but he was going to win.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 10, 2021 1:28:01 GMT -5
Since Sal knew nothing about how Zuko fought, and Zuko of course knew nothing about how Sal fought, this fight was going to be...interesting. Sal couldn’t say he was really excited for it, but then, he wasn’t really doing this because he wanted to. There was something very different about fighting when you hadn’t trained for it in a long time, and Sal wasn’t at all confident in his decision anymore.
He wouldn’t take it back, though. He refused to back down from this, even if he was going to lose.
He was going to lose.
No, he knew this, he knew how it worked. He couldn’t mess around. He just needed to get in and out, and he needed to make it look easy. Hopefully...hopefully that would keep Zuko and Azula’s attention away from Sam.
Once his visor was on and he was ready, he stepped out, looking for his opponent. He couldn’t see him with the visor on, of course, but he could at least tell height.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 10, 2021 1:33:55 GMT -5
If Zuko were honest with himself, he was hoping that this Sal was going to be good. There was no point in an easy win, in his eyes. He would rather face someone close to his skill and still come out on top than face someone much less skilled than him and make them feel bad because they were beaten in seconds. The thing was, he had been put in the very bottom on the team. He was supposed to be the least skilled opponent, but he had very, very quickly worked his way up. That meant leaving a lot of less skilled swordsmen in the dust, but there wasn’t a single person on the team that Zuko didn’t think was capable of improving. In fact, most of them had already improved since his first fight with them. It was impressive.
A new person joined the waiting crowd, and as Zuko grabbed an epee, he noted the strands of bright blue sticking out from underneath the stranger’s bio. He had was fairly certain he had seen Sal Fisher before, though he couldn’t remember exactly where. Probably just… around. Blue hair was pretty distinctive.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 10, 2021 2:00:08 GMT -5
The nice thing about visors was that they completely covered your face, and no one was weird about it, because it was expected.
The less nice thing was that they were often removed right after a fight, and there was no way to have a prosthetic under them. Sal had known these facts for as long as he’d been fencing, and yet it still felt like he’d somehow forgotten them when he’d agreed to this.
Still...he wasn’t sad to be back here. There were a lot of good memories that came with holding a foil. He didn’t want to pretend he’d left because it was all bad. Or even a little bad.
He looked up, searching the lack of faces in the crowd. No way to know who he was up against. He headed for the ring instead. Maybe Zuko was already there?
He was pretty sure he was allowed to go in, but he didn’t do it just yet. He’d rather meet his competition first, overall.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 10, 2021 2:14:06 GMT -5
Zuko was getting a little bit antsy. The ring was still empty, and he didn’t know who his opponent was. He had a feeling it was the boy with blue hair. Girl with blue hair? Zuko decided it didn’t matter. Person with blue hair, who was at least a few inches shorter than him. Shorter than average, which meant Zuko could start formulating an idea of how they might attack. They might rely more on speed than weight. Zuko didn’t know if he was faster than them, but he could try to be. He would need to either take them out quickly, or spend some time assessing their style. While he would prefer the former, it might not be effective until he started to understand how Sal fought.
It would have been polite to raise a hand to acknowledge Sal’s presence, but Zuko was lost in thought. He knew they were getting closer, but he hadn’t realized they were within earshot. As soon as they were close enough that Zuko could tell, it was too late. He sighed, deciding to let the moment pass.
It took him a few moments to step in the ring, adjusting his ponytail so it wouldn’t hurt if he needed to update his visor. The las thing Zuko wanted to do was to have to fight with his hair falling down around his shoulders. If that happened… well, he still would probably win, but it would be uncomfortable. He was ready. He drew his epee, preparing to get into stance as he waited for his opponent to step in after him.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 10, 2021 2:26:42 GMT -5
Zuko didn’t seem to notice as Sal approached. If that was Zuko, anyway. And assuming he didn’t notice and wasn’t intentionally ignoring him. That wasn’t an assumption Sal, was ready to make.
He was already trying to figure out how to do this. If that was Zuko, he was taller, which wasn’t an advantage except for intimidation points, which would only have worked if Sal had thought it was an advantage in other ways.
He was small and light on his feet. He knew how to do this, how to make it as fast and clean as he could. Zuko was...well, he was almost certainly a bully, and so Sal didn’t feel at all bad about planning to win as devastatingly as possible.
He watched as the boy he’d thought was Zuko entered the ring, proving his identity. He wasn’t going to look at the crowd, he promised himself. That would only distract him.
If this Zuko was as good as he’d heard, that wouldn’t be a good thing.
He stepped into the ring behind his opponent, drawing his epee and shifting his weight a little. Back and forth, testing the floor, testing his shoes, why did it feel like his last fight had only been yesterday?
He shifted into stance. He was going to do this, and he was going to do it well.
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