fandomhighdorms | Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

Leto had actually made some plans for this meeting, in case Arthur and Zack would still be asleep, although if they had been, there would certainly have been a lot fewer people showing up.

Those plans were now pointless, however. There was no way he would put people through defining the goals of defensive tactics today. Clearly those who had spend their weekend in another reality were a little too emotional to deal with that now. Leto knew that from experience; he had spent the previous day being bitched at (hello Arthur!) or hugged and cried on. It was obvious that people needed some kind of emotional outlet today.

Also, it seemed like some people had trust issues after having run into alternate vampire versions of themselves. That could prove dangerous in a fighting situation.

"Good afternoon," he greeted everyone gathered. "Today we will work on what I believe is referred to in this time as team-building. Without loyalty and trust - both of leaders and of fellow warriors - a military unit is nothing. Where that trust is strong and army may rise about their actual level of fighting skill."

"Often this loyalty has been nurtured by shared pain and suffering. A guerilla group might have faced persecution together for a long time. Many forms of military training forces the warriors to endure severe hardships together in order to achieve something similar."

Leto smiled. "Today, I decided for a more playful and gentle approach. We will start with a shared meal. Eating together is a sign of friendship in many cultures. First, you need to divide the food." He gestured at a blanket on the ground with a large fruit bowl in the middle. "It needs to be divided equally, but for every fruit you take, you need to tell the group something significant about yourself."

"When the food has been divided, you may eat, but you may not feed yourself, only other people."

He watched the people gathered. "Any questions?"

[~~Wait for OCD!~~ OCD is up!]

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Elena was there, hovering a little, frowning at Arthur and trying to decide whether or not she wanted to say anything. Yes. Maybe. No.

Dammit.

Generally, Arthur was used to people staring at him, and paid it no heed.

This particular person, however?

Got a lot of flitting glances from the corner of his eye in a way that probably wasn't subtle at all.

That was a rousing success, wasn't it? The hell with it.

"Hello," she said abruptly. "Was it you that I had a near-argument with, on the other side of Fandom?"

If he said 'no,' then she was going to leave it at that. No trying to sort things out with someone who wasn't even there.

Edited 2009-08-05 04:22 (UTC)

"I believe you yelled at me, yes," Arthur said. Dammit. He'd been going for subtle at that.

"I believe I did," Elena said, chin set. "You were wearing Reno's tattoos. It upset me."

Except he hadn't really been wearing them. Just an inside-out mockery. Which was worse.

"Yes, I managed to grasp that part," Arthur returned, dryly.

He fiddled with his gloves for a moment. "That wasn't my body," he said, conversationally, and reached up to tap his thankfully untouched cheek.

Elena lifted one of her shoulders. "You aren't a Turk," she said, as though that explained everything. "He was dead, he was family, and you'd stolen his markings for yourself."

That was, really, as simply as she could put it.

Well, go handle that one, Arthur.

He threw a silent curse at his counterpart in his head for even making him deal with this, debated with himself whether he cared enough to deal with this, added all of the above up, and came out with, "I'm fairly sure he had no intention to steal anything. We all mourn the dead in our own ways."

There. Now that almost sounded vaguely like a smart answer.

"We do," she said, seemingly placated by that. "But Turks don't get memorials, or funerals, or anything like that. You die, and everyone else excises the official records to remove any mention of you ever existing at all. Then they go out drinking and pour one out for you. Eventually, someone hires your replacement. That's all."

"But my people never forget a knight, or his deeds," Arthur returned, pleased that at least that really had been the smart answer. Shut up. He'd had to deal with too many of the grieving and upset, lately. "I imagine that's what the other me had tried for. Could've been a little less obvious, but."

A knight. She wondered, idly, if Reno knew how highly he ranked with this boy.

"But then it wouldn't be a proper memorial," she said, nodding carefully. "I ... wasn't expecting to see that, that's all. His marks on a stranger's face. If Rude got his tattoos, I would have thought that was touching. You, I didn't know, so it seemed like presumption."

The Turks had their moments of clannishness. It was the only real family most of them had known.

Reno had ranked that highly with that Arthur, at least; not that he didn't respect the man, but with ideals and ideas mixed in, if anyone would be labeled as such, it'd be Zack rather than Reno-- not that he was thinking too far on that right now.

He still owed Reno some horses.

"I can imagine," he said. He was going to blame Merlin for this sudden onset of this whole 'empathy' issue. "Reno's a fine man, I mean him no disrespect."

"I know," she agreed. "That is, I do now. I might have realized it at the time, except I was ..."

She gestured, vaguely. "Tired. Not entirely myself. Stuck in that hellish world, with no real idea what I was supposed to be doing. Too restless to sit still."

That was nearly an apology, if you squinted.

Not that Arthur knew something about very backwards apologies. Nothing at all.

"The strain was getting to everyone," he agreed, which was sort of an acceptance, if you squinted. "But you were an asset during planning." And even a compliment. Everyone, hold on, we're heading into the Twilight Zone.

She bit her lip, then shook her head quickly. "I didn't think I was," she said, almost sheepisly. Grateful for the compliment, however undeserving she felt. "And then I traipsed off like an idiot to get myself killed. Unfair, that she's paying for my mistakes."

It was apparently the kind of day for these sort of conversations. "I'm sure you did the best you possibly could," he offered. "From what I'm told, Turks aren't the least of warriors. Or that could have been Reno bragging again..."

Lightening the mood? Him?

"We're not entirely warriors," Elena explained. "More covert ops than military. I was just the Rookie, anyway. I spent half my time messing up. Ask him, some time."

Kidnapped by a Mafia don, blurting info to the opposition, they hadn't invented the rookie mistake she couldn't take a crack at.

She waved it off, welcoming the change in subject. "Reno always brags," she grinned. "He's hot shit, and you should stand back and watch in awe. Take notes, adoring fans. It took me months to figure out that he really was half as good as he claimed to be."

Edited 2009-08-05 09:27 (UTC)

And people wondered why Arthur and Reno got along. (No, they didn't. But it was nice to think they did, because Arthur was kind of an egomaniac)

"Not good enough to dodge a gremlin when it's hurled at him during a victory dance," he overshared. "Although at least he learned how to stop moving afterwards."

"If you have blackmail material, I need to see it," Elena said matter-of-factly. "I can offer some decent trade-ins, if it comes to that."

Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

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