Millard Fillmore campfire, Thursday lunchtime

[future_sandworm]

The fire was lit, and Leto was heating water for spice coffee while chewing on some bread and dried fruit. It wasn't much of a meal, really, and he did consider finding something more filling in a while. Still, sitting here and watching the flames was comfortable enough, and soon the cinnamon scent of spice mingled with that of coffee, which always reminded him of home.

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[bitchprince]

In the somewhat fiendish operation Arthur had mentally termed Force The World To Make Sense, there were at least two points left to go: keeping Morgana from finding out about the magic thing until he found a way to break it to her that wouldn't end in anyone getting executed or having anything worse forced on them, and finding the abandoned shack that night so Jenny could help him 'sort out' some of his broken brain 'problems'.

One of these two was daunting, but he'd tackle them both with skill.

By lunchtime, he had to add a third point to this list: EAT. He was a growing boy. And so, strolling across the campground...

"Leto. Afternoon."

[future_sandworm]

"Arthur." Leto looked up. "Have a seat," he offered, gesturing with his hand. At least they were on speaking terms again, which was a relief.

He did suspect that he would end up with no dried fruit left though.

[bitchprince]

Growing. Boy.

Arthur did take a seat, however. "There are moose," he said, by ways of continuing the conversation, "Everywhere."

[future_sandworm]

"Yes," Leto said. "They were even in the classroom." He has stopped paying attention to them. "I expected them to be larger." There was a smirk. "Not much to hunt."

[bitchprince]

"One of these days, the island is going to give me something decent in the way of game," Arthur muttered, reaching over to grab one of those dates of Leto's. "And then pigs will fly."

[future_sandworm]

"At least flying pigs might be considered decent game." Leto grinned, pouring the coffee into a cup. "What are your classes like?"

[bitchprince]

"The usual mixture of insane and somewhat useful," he replied, biting down on the date and swallowing before continuing. "Captain Algren's the closest thing to a decent 'professor' I've had at this school."

[future_sandworm]

"Culture Shock class? I was considering that one too. And a subject like that does require a good teacher." He sipped his drink. "I had Practical Etiquette today. Miss Bennet is worth listening to as well." And worth looking at, but he decided not to mention that. At least this small talk didn't involve the weather or seemed likely to cause another argument.

[bitchprince]

It was, however, going to be just about as much of a tax on Leto's reserves of dried fruit as he'd anticipated. "Practical Etiquette?" Arthur repeated. "I need to find out who keeps assigning my classes. That might have been more useful than Superhero Fashion."

Spandex. Shudder.

[future_sandworm]

Leto snatched a handful of dried fruit for himself before they were all gone. "Superhero fashion?" He raised an eyebrow, not hiding his amusement. "What does it involve?"

[bitchprince]

"Apparently in some of these worlds, there's-- warriors who voluntarily choose to dress up in skintight fabric that doesn't actually protect anything," Arthur replied, munching on some more fruit. "The class is about their fashion. It's clearly some kind of mistake."

Much like what had put him in Yzma's class last semester.

Go back, shudder again.

[future_sandworm]

"Skintight?" And yes, Leto was picturing Arthur wearing something skintight. "Do they use some other kind of shielding?" Because he could see the point in getting rid of heavy armour.

[bitchprince]

As was at least a good chunk of the class, in Arthur's estimation. ...The jury was still out on the reality of it.

"I asked Jenny," he said, "She said that's it." Pause. "And it rips often. What's the point?"

[future_sandworm]

"I can't answer that," Leto replied, shaking his head. "The teacher offered no explanation? With a protective energy shield I would say the fabric offered unhindered movement." He shrugged.

[bitchprince]

"I've heard nothing of any 'protective energy', or a shield of any other kind," Arthur replied, "Perhaps suicidal idiocy is in fashion."

Beat. Speaking of Jenny...

"Would you happen to have seen an abandoned shack around here?"

[future_sandworm]

"In my time, shields like that are used when suitable," Leto replied, then looked at Arthur. "A shack? No, but then I haven't actually looked. Why?"

[bitchprince]

"Jenny and I felt it would be better to discuss these issues in private," Arthur said, did not in fact clear his throat, and moved on. "Speaking of issues, you've spoken to Zack...?"

[future_sandworm]

Leto smiled, wondering what Miss Bennet would have made of that euphemism. "I see," he said. "And I spoke to him on Tuesday." That had been interesting. "Is there a problem?"

[bitchprince]

"He's from Reno's world." Not that that was a problem, per se, but it was... interesting.

[future_sandworm]

"Yes, I noticed." Leto smiled. "He has experience of desert environments too." And drugs that made your eyes blue, which had been an interesting coincidence.

[bitchprince]

"And he's a decent man in combat," Arthur continued. "I wonder if Reno knows him."

He wasn't a complete idiot. He was well-aware that if he was going to keep dealing with Leto like this, eventually, he was going to stab his own eyes out. Or Leto's, depending on his mood.

[future_sandworm]

"You haven't contacted him and asked?" Leto replied. "If Reno does know him it would be useful to find out."

To Leto it seemed the best way at the moment, but then Ghani would probably say that he did inspire people to violence.

[bitchprince]

And Arthur didn't generally need a terrible lot of inspiration to get violent, even if he prided himself on his control.

"Not yet." ...He was still figuring out the details of the whole phone thing. "But if he continues to perform as he has, it might be useful to apprentice him to the reserves..."

Smooth, Arthur.

[future_sandworm]

"Apprentice?" Leto asked.

[sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com]

When Triela saw who was at the fire she almost turned around and walked away. But it wouldn't do to let him know he'd had any effect on her.

So she took a deep breath, forced a casual expression of indifference, and walked over. "What's that smell?" she asked in lieu of having anything worth talking about.