Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jul 19, 2021 1:08:20 GMT -5
Zuko was grateful that Sal seemed as eager to follow tradition in this as he was. It wouldn’t be proper if they skipped over the bows or the formalities. It wouldn’t be the right sort of round to end their duel with. It didn’t matter who won if they didn’t do it properly. As far as Zuko was concerned, they would have to do it again. He shook the thought away. Everything was going perfectly, even as Sal forced him backwards, even as he had to lift his blade up as sharply and suddenly as he could manage in order to avoid being hit in Zuko’s chest. A smile danced at the corner of his lip, and for the first time Zuko found he wished he could see it. He wished Sal could see how much he was enjoying this. He wished he could see if Sal felt the same. But the visors were there for a reason, and they couldn’t take them off in the middle of a round. And Sal probably didn’t want to take his off with anyone else around anyway.
“Oh, she probably is,” Zuko replied nonchalantly, pressing forward and trying to regain a little bit of the ground he had lost. “She’ll live, though.” Unfortunately.
He wasn’t upset enough with her that he was willing to voice that last part, but the word still echoed in his head.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jul 19, 2021 1:13:03 GMT -5
Orpheus didn’t know everything that L had gone through. If he had… well, perhaps he would have been a bit fiercer when he came in contact with the bullies rather than just putting his head down and doing his best to get to the music room as quickly as possible. Although he was occasionally the subject of the bullying, he managed to keep himself most of the way out of their ire by virtue of providing a valuable service. It seemed that L didn’t have that same luxury. But Orpheus didn’t know that. He didn’t know how cynical L had been forced to grow, how little he was bound to trust the people around him. As far as Orpheus was aware, L was just the nice kid in the same class as him who was content to spend this period not talking about their somewhat boring project and instead asking Orpheus about the things that really interested him. Orpheus would have to return the favor eventually.
“Yes, that makes sense,” Orpheus replied, though there was a note of hesitation in his voice. “I think that might be part of it, but… it also takes a lot more skill and craftsmanship to make a really good instrument. I mean… as far as I know, they aren’t just made by assembly lines in factories. There are real, human people who are experts at it, and they all work together to make sure that the instrument is perfect. And… and you’re right, skill plays a large role. If you aren’t willing to practice and learn how to do it right, you won’t be able to make a billion dollar violin sound nice.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 25, 2021 20:20:33 GMT -5
Skipping over it now…he didn’t want to do that. Even if no one would technically know or care, that wasn’t the point. Zuko would know. Sal would know. It wouldn’t feel like a real round if they didn’t do it the right way. It wouldn’t matter if he won it. It wouldn’t be right.
He was glad that there seemed to be an unspoken agreement to do this right.
He smiled a little, even as he missed his mark. The strike had been enough to force Zuko back a little, and that was a good start to the round, as good as he could have really asked for. Zuko was amazing at this, without a doubt, and he wasn’t going to make it easy for Sal to win it.
He pushed forwards, trying to keep Zuko as off balance as he could, his epee blurring as he struck at Zuko’s knee, though he was careful not to hit too hard. He didn’t want to actually get called out for brutality. That would be a little too ironic for his tastes.
“Good for her,” he replied, slipping back a step to try not to let Zuko get a hit in, if he could avoid it.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jul 25, 2021 22:42:33 GMT -5
Zuko could feel the thrill of the fight rage through him as the match started in earnest. They exchanged strikes quickly, making sure to keep the other on their toes. This was what fencing should have been. It wasn’t a desperate swinging of swords, it was a clever and calculated game of wit and dexterity. It didn’t matter how physically strong either of them was – indeed, they were both rather too slim to be considered muscular (although Zuko was perhaps a little bit too proud of his six pack). They were, however, both strong. They had to be, to hold the swords and move them as quickly and smoothly as they did. It wasn’t their strength that would decide the match, though. It didn’t matter if they were evenly matched in strength at all – in fact, Zuko figured he was probably stronger than Sal considering he’d been practicing more recently. But it didn’t matter.
“Ha,” Zuko replied, managing to avoid getting hit once again. He whirled around, aiming at Sal’s shoulder in an attempt to get him to back up just a little bit. “I’m sure she’ll take another crack at humiliating me next time I fight someone.” His eyes narrowed as he pressed closer to Sal, trying to guess which side he would step back with. That might be useful information in more decisive strikes later in the round.
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 27, 2021 0:28:18 GMT -5
L wasn’t fierce when it came to the bullies. He wasn’t daring, or brave, or determined. He was just…scared, though he didn’t like to admit it to himself. They were powerful, and they - Azula, mostly - hated him in particular. He was top of his class, after all, putting her solidly at second best. She claimed she didn’t hate him. She said he wasn’t smarter, that she knew he wasn’t smarter, but they both knew he was, and she couldn’t handle that. He was an expert liar, but so was she, and the best tool by far to use to catch a liar with was yet another liar. He was trapped, because his honest opinion was that he actually was smarter than she was, at the end of the day. He couldn’t help it if his IQ was higher. He was a genius, and she was a somewhat worse genius. He hadn’t asked for it, and he didn’t see how he could be blamed for being the smartest person in the room at any given time.
He focused on Orpheus again. The bullies would still be there whe; he was finished here. No need to keep them in his thoughts when he wasn’t in danger from them.
“So…it is a matter of skill, but on both sides,” he mused, considering that concept. “It takes skill to play an instrument, and it takes skill to build one, too. Then…the best music comes from a highly skilled musician with a very good instrument.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Jul 27, 2021 12:56:51 GMT -5
Orpheus wasn’t special enough for most of the bullies to pay attention to him. He wasn’t particularly smart, and, as he had considered before, he offered a valuable service. If they needed a song written, they could come to him. How many people had fallen for others based on songs he had written? In another context, Orpheus may have been pleased about that, but he wasn’t sure he really cared when they were relationships that barely lasted more than a week or two. He also would have been happier if people wanted his music just because they liked it. If they didn’t threaten it out of him. He would have given it up to them for free, if only they had asked instead of assuming he wouldn’t comply with them. He didn’t like the bullies very much, but he had received only a fraction of the heartache that L had from them.
“I think that’s accurate,” Orpheus agreed, giving a small smile. “I also think that really good music can be made by someone with very little skill on an instrument that didn’t cost very much at all. It may not be worthy of being played in a concert hall yet, but if someone is just getting started and they throw themselves into the music with passion and love for it… that music is better than any lackluster piece played by someone who’s lost the spark. It’s the passion that brings it to life.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 6, 2021 20:36:16 GMT -5
Sal couldn’t help his small smile as Zuko managed yet again to evade him. There was no fun in an easy win, but that was the exact opposite of what this was. This was…this was two boys who knew exactly what they were doing. This was Zuko, who was as far as Sal knew unbeaten, at least in recent competitions. There was a reason Sam had been so afraid to face him, after all. This was Sal, who’s been a lot better than he’d let himself believe, who wasn’t nearly as out of practice as he’d imagined.
“Maybe she should just fight you herself, if she’s so determined to make a point,” he replied, the strike hitting just a little too close to his shoulder for comfort. He stepped back, right foot first as he caught himself. Barely.
“No offense to your sister, of course, but it kinda feels like she doesn’t think she can beat you if she has to go around using up all her time to make you look bad. Maybe…”
He struck forward, aiming for Zuko’s sword arm, eyes narrowing. “…she needs a hobby.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 6, 2021 22:08:38 GMT -5
Sal’s comment was enough to make Zuko laugh, breaking him from the seriousness of the match, if only for a moment. The idea that Azula needed a hobby… it would have been true, if she weren’t naturally good at everything she tried. She was one every sports team she could be on. She was on student council, though she had to intimidate people to get the votes. She was even editor of the newspaper. The reason Azula had such a stranglehold on the school was because she had wormed herself into every available position of power. She had a hobby. She had dozens of them. And she was good enough that nobody could even complain about it. Sometimes Zuko thought he might hate her, just a little bit. Or maybe more than a little bit.
Zuko gave a soft curse as his moment of distraction allowed Sal to hit his arm, but he redoubled his efforts to attack Sal. He struck forward, aiming for Sal’s knee and then diverting up to aim at his navel.
“She won’t fight me because it’s the one thing I’m better at than she is,” Zuko replied, a little bit out of breath as he upped the intensity of his attacks. “Not by much, grant you, but… better. She knows it, and she can’t stand it.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 7, 2021 12:37:10 GMT -5
It was genuinely impressive that they could both manage to hold a conversation and hold their own in the match at the same time, Sal knew. His brain was supposed to be completely focused on the match, his mind jumping just a second into the future to predict Zuko’s next move, but not enough to throw him off his game. This wasn’t chess. Being more than a move ahead of your opponent was a very good way to get yourself stabbed.
The thing was, Sal knew about Azula. She was the sort of person that was impossible not to know about (although Sal had a dream of running into her at some point and pretending he had no idea who she was. Maybe he was petty, but she was a bully, and that was worse) and she was the sort of person who, once you knew about her, you hated her, but you typically feared her more.
The thing was, Sal hadn’t actually expected Zuko to be on the other side of it. He was her brother, and he was dating one of her minions. He was in a prime position to abuse some power of his own.
He needed to stop thinking. The strike hit its mark and he backed off for just a second to recover, then struck forwards again, feinting to the side, then actually striking at the side he’d feinted on.
“Good to know,” he replied lightly, keeping his tone casual, as though they were old friends having a conversation on a leisurely walk. “That means…technically I’m also better at this than she is…especially if I beat you,”
As if to make that point more obvious, he struck forwards again and aimed a couple quick strikes at his shoulder.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 7, 2021 17:59:10 GMT -5
Zuko knew that, were he less practiced than he was at the moment, he wouldn’t be able to keep track of both their shared words and their shared blows. It was hard enough just to fence without talking on top of it, but exchanging conversation made it all the more difficult. Secretly, Zuko relished the challenge. It meant more of his brain was taken up in the attack. It meant that he had even less room to think his own thoughts. There was just Zuko, Sal, their blades, and their words, equally sharp. The only difference was that blows from words couldn’t be counted as hits, and the words weren’t actively malicious. They were still sparring with them, though, in a friendly practice sort of way. At least… that was how Zuko was reading the situation. He hoped Sal saw it similarly.
Zuko gave another quiet laugh as Sal spoke again, doing his best to avoid his barrage of strikes. It was a near miss, but he managed to evade all of them. He was pushed back a step or two, but not enough that he would lose his position in the game. He would be right back where he had been in moments. As though to demonstrate, he struck first at Sal’s shoulder, then aimed another quick jab at his elbow, then his knee. He was fast when he moved the blade, fast enough that a lesser opponent may not have even seen the attacks coming. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Sal wouldn’t see them. The question was whether he’d see them with enough time to back away or block.
“You’re probably better than her even if you don’t beat me,” he admitted, a smile poking at his features in spite of the fact that Sal couldn’t see it. “Be careful. If she finds out, she might start targeting you, too.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 8, 2021 19:08:03 GMT -5
Zuko was good at this. He was undeniably good at this, and Sal felt that they were both enjoying the added challenge talking gave them. The conversation and the fight mirrored each other, both friendly sparring, and both relying on wit, not brute strength. The fight was going well, more or less. At least, it wasn’t going badly.
The strikes were fast. Faster than he’d anticipated. He was forced on the defensive, blocking and backing off just enough that none of them hit, barely. He didn’t have time to be proud of that before he struck forwards, aiming a triple double strike at Zuko’s leg, trying to disorient him enough that blocking it would be hard to do.
“I repeat…she needs a hobby,” he replied, shaking his head a little. “One that doesn’t have anything to do with crushing other kids. I get sibling rivalry and a healthy competitive streak, but she might be taking it just a little bit far.”
He knew he was running out of time. He knew he needed to win this, but he was actually having fun…he didn’t think he wanted it to end. What would they do after this? He didn’t want to just go their separate ways. He was…almost tempted to lose on purpose, just to make it so he had to stay on the team. But he wasn’t *that* tempted.
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 8, 2021 22:09:19 GMT -5
L couldn’t really imagine being the sort of person who decided to date because of a song, and then decided to stop dating after a week, and immediately began to date someone else. Then again…he had trouble imagining dating in the first place. It was a strange concept, having friends, and then having someone who was a friend, but was also something else. He wasn’t sure he bought all the talk of soulmates, even though it was peppered throughout his day, in life and fiction both. Maybe it was just that he had grown up with Watari, who had no interest in dating at all. Or maybe he just wasn’t the sort of person you could fall in love with.
It wasn’t a big deal. He had more pressing concerns.
“So…you think it comes down to people giving genuine effort,” he mused. “Someone who puts a lot of time and effort into making an instrument, and someone who puts a lot of time and effort into playing one. Even if the two don’t match up, they both count for something. Maybe. Is that what you mean?”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 8, 2021 22:27:02 GMT -5
Three minutes felt like a very short time and a very long time simultaneously. Zuko didn’t know how that was possible, but he found he wished these three minutes would go just a little bit slower so he could savor this match as much as possible. A wide grin was splayed across his face, and he had to consider it a shame that Sal couldn’t possibly know that. Maybe he would find out when the match drew to an end and they had a winner.
Zuko leapt back, just barely managing to avoid the first of the strikes, though the second hit. Sal was good. Sal was really good. Zuko didn’t honestly think that one set of rounds would be enough to determine who was better between the two of them. Whoever won would have won because of luck and timing, not because of superior skill. Or, perhaps, Zuko knew that time was short and he was a strike behind. He pressed forward, trying to get another strike in when his phone began to angrily beep from the corner. Zuko took a step back, giving Sal a quick bow before he hopped away from the arena and silenced his phone, then turned back to face his opponent.
“So,” he said quietly, pulling the helmet from his head. “Congrats.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 9, 2021 1:20:38 GMT -5
Orpheus thought of dating, sometimes. He wondered, every so often, if the songs that won other people over would ever win someone over for him. But he wasn’t popular. He didn’t play sports, he wasn’t on student council, and he was only of average intelligence. There was only so much that a song could do, and underneath it all… he was just Orpheus. Unimpressive and plain. He didn’t mind who he was, of course. If he was given the chance to be someone else, he would have said no. He had put time and effort into making sure this brain knew all the right songs. He had practiced until these hands had near perfect muscle memory. He wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.
“Yes,” he agreed softly, giving a small nod. “I think… yes. Effort has to count for something. And not enough people appreciate that. I think it’s true outside of music, too. You probably put in a lot more effort when it comes to schoolwork than I do, and therefore your grades are better than mine. But you also probably have a leg up on me because you’re talented at academics. If you were to play this violin, you wouldn’t be very good, to start. Especially if you didn’t try very hard. You may not be at my level after a few months, but if you were to pick it up every day and practice, you would improve very quickly. I… know I’d improve at schoolwork if I actually managed to get all of it done on time.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 10, 2021 0:54:22 GMT -5
L thought that he wouldn’t mind being someone else, sometimes. If he had the opportunity to become someone entirely different…would he take it?
He couldn’t say he was sure he would. But he couldn’t say he was sure he wouldn’t, either. The fact was, being a genius, while sometimes helpful, was often more trouble than it was worth. It was why he was at the center of the bullying. It was why he didn’t have friends. It was why he was so bored in class, when there was no chance of being bullied as long as the teacher was both present and paying attention. It was probably going to be why Orpheus ended up drifting back to whatever life he led after this project was over.
He didn’t want to be self pitying, but he wasn’t sure being him was really worth all the trouble, if he could be someone else. If Watari hadn’t been around, he’d probably have just run away a long time ago.
“Well…” he replied, half glancing at Orpheus. “That part doesn’t actually hold up very well, because I don’t care about school. I do it to make Watari happy mostly. But I have an IQ of 207, last time I took the test, so that’s probably why it’s easy for me. I wanted to skip a couple grades but they wouldn’t let me.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 10, 2021 1:02:45 GMT -5
Orpheus’ eyes widened a little as he listened to L. He didn’t know his own IQ, but he had a feeling it was much, much lower. Was it possible to get an IQ below 100? Orpheus didn’t actually know how the test or the scoring worked, but he had a feeling that he would have scored very, very low if he had ever taken it. He wasn’t academically intelligent. He was, if there was such a thing, musically intelligent. And sometimes, music translated itself well into emotions, so Orpheus could be more emotionally intelligent than the average person. That one was rather hit or miss, though.
“I think they should have let you skip those grades,” Orpheus whispered, clearly rather awed. “You wouldn’t have to be in this class doing this project if you had skipped those grades. I’m… I’m sorry,” he managed, face flushing bright red. “I probably seem really dumb whenever we talk about it. I don’t always know what’s going on in class, even when I pay attention, and… I thought I knew what I was doing, but you probably have known this entire time that I have no idea what I’m talking about…” he looked away, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck.
The last thing Orpheus wanted to do was bore L. Based on who he was… how boring and basic he was… he doubted that L had any interest in hearing about his life at all. He had just been being polite. Shame burned in Orpheus’ cheeks – he should have realized that. He shouldn’t have insisted on boring L half to death.
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 10, 2021 1:13:31 GMT -5
L’s eyes widened as Orpheus began to speak, clearly not taking the information the way L had expected he would. To him, it was normal. Just…a fact that he was used to. He hadn’t intended to brag or make Orpheus feel bad or try to make himself feel smarter by pushing someone else down…he actually hadn’t thought it would be such an impressive thing. He was a genius, yes, but he was also a person, and you tended to her used to whatever you happened to be, however rare it was.
Forgetting the concept of personal space in his hurry to mend the situation, he moved forward, almost reaching for Orpheus’ hand to get his attention before he remembered that only people in romantic relationships were supposed to do that. He settled for just trying to catch his eye instead.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude or make you feel bad,” he said a little breathlessly, shaking his head for emphasis, dark hair falling in his face. “I’ve always been like this, so I’m used to it. I forgot that sometimes telling people things seems like bragging. I promise I didn’t mean to…and also, you don’t sound dumb at all. You…you do know what your talking about. About the music at least. You know way more than I do about it, and…this has been one of the nicest afternoons I’ve had in a really long time, so please don’t start feeling bad!”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 10, 2021 1:28:37 GMT -5
It seemed as though the two of them were talking past each other. Miscommunicating in a way Orpheus hadn’t quite intended. He watched L for a long moment, trying to think of how to say what he wanted without it being completely misconstrued.
“I didn’t think you were bragging,” Orpheus said after a long moment, biting his lip as though he was waiting for someone to pop out of the music closet and disagree. “People brag because they want other people to be impressed by them, and most of the time they don’t even have anything impressive to show for it. They just want other people to think they’re cool or… or to think that they should be cool based on what they have or what they can do. You’re… not like that. It wasn’t rude, I just… I feel bad anyway.” Orpheus’ shoulders hunched a little bit, and he found he couldn’t quite look at L. “You have to do this project with someone who isn’t very smart at all, which is probably really boring or annoying for you and… and I’m sorry. You should be able to do things with people that are as good as you. I’m just… not. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, it’s just the truth.” He was about to say something else, but he seemed ready to listen to the rest of what L was saying.
“I’m good at music,” Orpheus admitted, blushing just a little bit. “I don’t know much about much else, though. But… I’m glad I haven’t bored you by talking about music…”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 10, 2021 1:41:40 GMT -5
L hesitated, deflating a little as Orpheus replied. That was almost worse…he hadn’t been rude, he’d just said something that made Orpheus feel bad when they’d been having a good time together, as far as L could tell. He didn’t move back just yet, though. He wasn’t ready to give up on making Orpheus feel better.
“It’s not the most fun project I can imagine doing,” he admitted quietly, looking down. He was conflicted, now…he could admit that there was a much bigger reason he hated school, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to say that out loud. Especially to a stranger.
There again, he liked Orpheus, and he felt he owed him something after having ruined this conversation.
“That’s not true. I’m not better than you are,” he protested, biting his lip. “When I took the test the first time, Watari told me I wasn’t smarter than other people. Not in every way. I’m not emotionally intelligent or physically intelligent, I’m just…I’m good at tests, okay? It’s not like it makes me better. It’s probably not even all that useful. I mean, who’s gonna hire me to take tests when I’m older?”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 10, 2021 1:50:38 GMT -5
Orpheus searched L’s eyes, uncertain how he was supposed to feel. He had the terrible feeling that he had almost made a friend, but that he had messed it all up somehow. He didn’t want to ruin this, not when they had been having a good time together… they may not have gotten any work done on the project, but it had been way too long since Orpheus had spoken about music with such depth to anyone. He hadn’t expected L to be as interested as he was, but he was pleased to have someone listening who actually seemed to care. Who wasn’t just listening to be polite. There were plenty of adults who did that. They asked him about music, and they had wanted a few words as an answer, but Orpheus had launched into a speech, and they had been too polite to ask him to stop. It didn’t seem like that was the case with L.
The other boy was close, Orpheus realized. His cheeks flushed a little bit, but he didn’t move back, and he didn’t ask L to move back. It didn’t matter. He tried to stop his heart from racing, tried to tell himself that it was a really bad idea to catch feelings for someone, especially right now. His heart, ever the traitor, didn’t listen. It just stopped pounding loud enough to let the entire neighborhood know. It was plotting in secret.
“I’m really bad at tests,” he admitted after a moment, giving a quiet laugh. “Together we make… an average student, I guess.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 10, 2021 3:17:00 GMT -5
L scanned Orpheus’ expression, trying to see whether his words were helping even a little bit. He hadn’t been kidding about being bad at emotional intelligence…he really wasn’t great at this part. It wasn’t often that he was in any position to make anyone feel better…he genuinely wasn’t sure how to go about it, especially when he’d caused the damage in the first place. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make all this worse…
Besides, he really had been enjoying their time together. Orpheus was genuinely fascinating, and the things he knew about music were really interesting. It was mostly things L hadn’t known about, too, which just made it even better, as far as he was concerned.
He wanted to make sure Orpheus knew he hadn’t been humoring him. One of the worst feelings imaginable was sharing something very important to you and then figuring out later the other person had been looking for an opportunity to escape. L knew what it was like to feel like no one actually cared what he had to say, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else feel that way if he could help it.
Besides..,Orpheus was just really nice.
He relaxed as Orpheus laughed a little, breathing out. Did that mean he wasn’t feeling back anymore? Would it be alright to ask that?
“And music, too,” he added. “I’m bad at music, and you’re good at it. So together we’re average again.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 10, 2021 13:50:17 GMT -5
Orpheus generally tended to assume that other people had good intentions. He wasn’t always right about that, but he found that his relationships went better when he assumed that everyone was coming from a good place. He didn’t believe that L had meant to say anything to upset him, and he hoped that L didn’t think he had meant to ruin the conversation with his reaction. They were just… well, they were doing their best to get back on track. Orpheus gave L a small smile, relishing the small moment of connection between the two of them.
From what Orpheus could tell, L hadn’t been humoring him. He had given L plenty of outs had he wanted to talk about something else, and it was L who had asked the questions that had spurred the conversation on, so he was inclined to believe that they had both enjoyed talking about music. Hopefully. He would have been happy to listen to anything L wanted to ramble about, but he didn’t know how to say that without making the boy uncomfortable or turning the conversation into something even more awkward.
“Average together,” Orpheus agreed lightly, letting his hands fall into his lap. “Which means we should get a perfectly average grade on our project. I promise I’ll try harder on it than I do on most projects… well… I promise I’ll do my best not to get distracted, at least. I don’t want your grade to suffer cause I’m not a very good partner.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 10, 2021 14:49:17 GMT -5
It was nice, to have someone assume his intentions were good. He’d been surrounded by people who would much prefer to think the worst of him for so long, he hadn’t realized how nice it was to just…have someone assume he was being genuine.
He knew he didn’t tend to give the benefit of the doubt. He was too used to cruel intentions, now. He saw them everywhere, and he couldn’t tell if they really were everywhere or he was just sure that they were.
An average grade on this…that would be good. Maybe if he didn’t blow it out of the water, he wouldn’t be targeted worse afterwards like he usually was. Maybe Azula would just consider it a win and leave him alone.
“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it too much,” he told him, stepping back now that the crisis had been averted. “As long as your grade is okay, it doesn’t really matter how we do on this. People would be mad if a teacher kicked someone out for not dropping an egg the right way.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 11, 2021 11:09:00 GMT -5
Orpheus tended to assume that everyone was being genuine unless proven otherwise. So far, L had done nothing to warrant being seen as anything other than genuine. Orpheus liked that about him – he liked that he showed genuine interest in the things Orpheus was doing and saying, and he liked above all else that L didn’t seem to mind the rambling about music. It had been a very long time since Orpheus had gotten along with someone as easily as L, and it was reassuring to know that L wasn’t just here because he had to be. Of course… Orpheus knew that their friendship was probably going to disintegrate the moment the project was over. There was probably a reason they had never talked before. They were probably both busy, or maybe L had his own friends and didn’t have time or room to number Orpheus among them. The thought was sad, but Orpheus tried to push it away. He didn’t want to mourn something that hadn’t yet ended.
“I wasn’t really worried about the teacher kicking us out,” Orpheus admitted, moving to his backpack so he could pull out the project guidelines. “I was more worried about how it might affect your GPA. I mean… I know that mine is already struggling, but you probably have the highest GPA in the school, and you could probably go to any college you wanted with it… I don’t wanna be the reason you don’t get accepted into your dream school or something.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 15, 2021 13:48:13 GMT -5
L didn’t expect this to last. He didn’t think Orpheus was very likely to try to stay after the project was over. Which was a good thing, he reminded himself. As a walking target, he was not someone it was safe to associate with, and he had never seen Orpheus get attacked by Azula before, so he didn’t really want to risk dragging him into anything unpleasant. He was too nice to have to deal with mean people.
Secretly, L knew he wasn’t all that nice of a person. He didn’t actually think he deserved to be attacked, but he did think it was better him than someone more gentle or kind. He was pretty good at not caring about the things they said, it was just the actual attacks he struggled with. Or so he told himself. Eventually, if he kept saying it, it was going to be completely true, too.
“I do have the highest GPA right now,” he admitted, glancing at Orpheus for a long moment. “But I’m not worried. If this project is the one thing that brings it down, I can just talk about it in an essay. Adults like that kind of thing.”
It wasn’t really manipulation when he was just aware of what someone wanted from him and did his best to deliver…right?
Actually, if he could manipulate his way into college, he probably deserved to be there anyway. He’d hack his way in, but he didn’t need to, and he didn’t feel all that strongly about it. And he wasn’t supposed to offer to hack other people in, either. Even if he meant well.
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 15, 2021 20:04:41 GMT -5
Orpheus hadn’t ever had very many friends. Adults liked him. They all said he was going to make something of himself. Some of his teachers mixed it up by saying he could be great if he just ‘applied himself.’ He wasn’t keen on being great at academics in any case. It didn’t matter, especially if he did well in academics at the expense of time to practice doing the things he actually wanted to spend his life doing. At least his grades were better than most of the student athlete’s. Orpheus was average. Maybe slightly above average, because he was genuinely interested, sometimes. He got As when he was.
“I’m sure they’d like that,” Orpheus laughed quietly, his tone light and friendly, “You can talk all about how you learned patience from working with someone who wasn’t particularly interested in the project. Or maybe you can talk about how we learned to work together over the course of the project, but it sure would’ve been nice if you’d figured out how to persuade me to work on it before you unlocked that secret the day before it was due.” He flashed a smile at L before glancing back at the paper.
“I promise I’m not actually going to wait until the last minute to work on it. I may not be the best at academics, but I don’t intentionally screw people over on group projects.” Orpheus’ finder traced over the drawing he’d made of the lyre in class.
“I know there are different types of intelligence, but you really are very impressive,” he said after a moment, voice genuine. “It’s… kind of you not to put pressure on me to do well with this project. I’ll still try my best.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 19, 2021 13:06:20 GMT -5
And just like that, it was over. Sal hadn’t known for sure he would win, which made it that much more satisfying as it sunk in that he had. Zuko was good. It was no coincidence that he’d managed to be pretty much unbeatable in the group. Sal could see why Sam hadn’t wanted to face him, and though he wanted to support his friend, he was also secretly glad that he’d been dragged into this. It was fun, in s way few things in school were. In the way that made him want to get better, not just ditch and hope his grades were good enough to handle a few skipped classes here and there.
He may not have hated school as passionately as he was sure some did. But that didn’t mean he liked it, either.
He bowed and straightened up to watch Zuko silence his phone. He couldn’t take his helmet off, naturally, but he hoped Zuko still knew he was grinning right back.
“Thanks. Good match,” he told him. He wasn’t too out of breath, since it had only been the one match. Actually, he felt somewhat energized. “Damn. How long have you been on the team?”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 19, 2021 15:17:06 GMT -5
Zuko wasn’t terribly out of breath, either. He would need a moment to catch it, of course, but that was how any match was. It wasn’t a good match unless you had been forced to move. Unless you had at least begun to break a sweat. People said that three minutes wasn’t a long time. They had clearly never fenced before. Three minutes was an eternity and a second all in one. Zuko wished the match had gone on longer. He always did, when he went up against people who were actually capable of beating him. Anyone could win a fencing match, if they knew what they were doing. It was just… hard to find people with that kind of practice and skill.
“Good match to you, too,” Zuko breathed, shaking his head and pulling the ponytail at the top of his head loose. He would need to redo it for school – strands of hair had already begun to come out, making him look just a little less put together.
“About half a year. I joined spring semester last year…” he didn’t mention that was when he was certain his father wouldn’t find out. “A bit longer, I guess, cause I’ve been doing it all of this semester, too.” He glanced over at Sal, looking him over for a long moment before giving a satisfied nod. “I’d love to rematch you when you’re actually in practice.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 24, 2021 14:36:38 GMT -5
L nodded thoughtfully, pleased Orpheus had understood his meaning. He sometimes didn’t know how someone was going to react to his words. People had been angry with him for perfectly reasonable things before, after all. He usually just didn’t speak up if he wasn’t sure, but Orpheus seemed like he’d just ask for clarification if he wanted it, which was comforting.
“Yes, exactly. Or how I learned about different sorts of people and how to work well with others, even when they’re very different from myself,” he added, tapping his chin. “Most adults will say they care more about that than they do about grades anyway. Even if they don’t act like it in practice.”
He hesitated, looking at Orpheus again. He seemed…so genuinely nice. It was hard to believe it. It was hard to believe there was anyone in this entire school who was genuine. Even him, sometimes. He’d lied plenty of times. If he could have thought of a lie that would keep the bullies away, he’d have told it in a second.
He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “It’s like being pretty,” he said after a moment, figuring that was an analogy Orpheus would be able to relate to. “Some people are just born really pretty, but it doesn’t change who they are. I was born with a high IQ, but it doesn’t really change who I am. What matters is what I actually do.”
|
|
Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
|
Post by strider on Aug 24, 2021 22:24:24 GMT -5
Clo:
Orpheus squeezed L’s hand. He sensed a learned hesitancy in L’s words- the reaction of someone who’s words weren’t always taken in good faith. The thought made him feel sad.
“Mm.” He murmured. “I think working with others is more important than some arbitrary score.”
You were born really pretty. Orpheus’ mind supplied and it was only though practice that he stopped himself from saying it out loud. He cleared his throat, then looked down at his scuffed sneakers. “I think you’re going to do awesome things- everything you’ve told me so far- I think you’re going to make a difference.”
Stri:
Orpheus tended to take things more literally than other people did, and he had been misunderstood as rude before, so he tended to give others the benefit of the doubt. Besides, L hadn’t said anything rude. He had just been explaining when Orpheus hadn’t understood what he meant. When Orpheus had made an incorrect assumption. Orpheus was going to do his best not to make any more of those, because… he liked L. He liked L a lot, and he didn’t have many friends, and if there was even a chance he could keep this one after this project was done… he swallowed, forcing the thought down. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up, because he doubted L would want anything to do with him after they were forced to spend time together on this project.
“I think grades are sort of arbitrary anyway,” Orpheus said after a moment. “I guess not in math or science, because there’s a right answer or a wrong answer, but… in English and things.” Which was, coincidentally, what he was best at. Perhaps he only got good grades in those subjects because he had fooled the teachers into thinking his writing was good… he pushed that thought away, too. He was good. When he applied himself.
“I think pretty is subjective, too,” Orpheus murmured, eyes wide as he looked at L. “Everyone says Azula is pretty, but I don’t think she is. Maybe that’s just ‘cause she’s mean.”
|
|
