fandomhighdorms | The Salle, Sunday Crack o'Dawn Until Well Into The Afternoon

You got used to certain things, in Jaeger Academy. Like getting up at five sharp and spending the next fourteen hours in the Kwoon, working your arse off. Chuck didn't have any instructors now, or any fellow students to practice against-- didn't matter. He'd been slacking for over a week now, waiting for this new school, and it was time to pick things back up again.

Even if he was nursing a minor hangover. In fact, the hangover helped pick up the right level of aggression - that level that he was unleashing on one of the poor practice dummies right now. Going through the forms, hitting at least half of the major ones. Keep going. Keep working at it.

When he got back to the Academy in summer, he had to be in the same shape as everyone else. It didn't matter he'd be forced to stick to a crazy island boarding school, or that his father seemed to have lost his goddamned mind-- he was gonna keep working for it.

Max sat in the corner of the room, his leash tied to one of the benches. Training or not, there was no way Chuck was letting the pup out of his sight.

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Vider wasn't exactly one to go puppy-mad, but the little guy was awfully cute, and it looked pretty uncomfortable, straining at his leash like that, so she went over to him and crouched down to let the dog sniff her hand. It was only polite.

"You're new, aren't you?" she asked Chuck. "I don't remember you. Or your dog. He is yours, right?" Because if someone had just left their dog in the salle she was going to have to track them down and yell at them.

"Yeah, he's mine." Chuck picked up his towel and slung it over his shoulders, casting a glance towards Max. "And yeah, I'm new. Got in yesterday."

Hence the hangover.

Max sniffed her hand enthusiastically. There were so many new people here! Females! Female humans! He was having the time of his life.

Vider hadn't noticed first exposure to the school inspiring quite so much anger amongst anyone in her own cohort, but then, she'd been fairly confused at the time. Or maybe the boy was just angry. It wasn't like she could throw any stones on that score, not when she was what she was.

"Well, welcome to Fandom High, then," Vider said. "I'm Vider Bearskin." She scritched behind Max's ears and told him softly, "Good dog."

Edited 2014-01-05 11:41 (UTC)

Chuck was a fairly angry boy by nature; the current circumstances didn't make that any better. However, he was more inclined to be lenient towards anyone who showed his dog the attention Max deserved, which meant some of the worst belligerence was gone from his voice when he spoke again. "Chuck Hansen," he said. His eyes darted towards her weapon. "Spears, eh? How good are you with that thing?"

Maybe he'd be able to wrangle a sparring dummy out of this that actually fought back.

"I'm getting better," Vider said matter-of-factly, still scritchng the dog's ears, "but no one would call me an expert yet. I only needed to know enough for holmgang until recently." Oh, right, no one here knew what that was. The lack of a holmgang ring here had been one of the things that tripped her up, at first. "Holmgang is a type of trial by combat, where I come from.

"What's his name?"

"Max," Chuck offered, coming to a stop by the dog. Trial by combat. Okay then. But he wasn't about to be swayed from his mission just yet. "So holmgang, huh--" Must be Scandinavian. "That mean you know how to use anything else?"

Vider shrugged. "Sure, I can use a sword, too. Why?"

"I need a training partner," Chuck said. "These dummies-- they're not cutting it. They're a little dead."

Vider considered it. She was getting pretty sick of fighting shadows, herself, but. No one back home would have casually made that offer. Not with the spear on her cheek. "One little problem," she said after a moment. "I'm a berserker." She waited for any indication of whether Chuck even knew what that was or not.

"We've all been there after a couple of pints," Chuck said. "I can handle it."

Not that kind of berserking, Hansen.

Vider blinked up at him a few times before she said, "No, I mean I actually go berserk. So if I start getting angry or out of control, you need to back off immediately, and then if I don't calm down you need to get your dog and get out of here." She figured that was a dire enough warning that if he still wanted to spar with her he was really serious.

Yeah, like Chuck was going to let that dissuade him. "Fine," he said. "I won't like you when you're angry. Got it."

He walked towards the weapons without waiting for any further reaction. "Sticks, foils, swords...?"

He was the least adept at the latter, but he'd figure it out.

Vider gave Max one last pat and popped to her feet. "Foils are the flimsy ones, right? We don't have those at home, I'll pass."

Chuck held up a stick instead.

Max parked his arse back down on the floor and watched with bated breath.

Except technically the opposite. He was panting a lot.

The Salle, Sunday Crack o'Dawn Until Well Into The Afternoon

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