Captain Malachai (Jack Brampton) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
andlivefreely) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
zenderael_rl2013-04-25 07:39 am
andlivefreely) wrote in zenderael_rl2013-04-25 07:39 am
Entry tags:
[Duncan/Malachai (PC)/Anais] - guilty
Who: Duncan, Malachai, Anais
When: Monday, Aug 1st
Where: Fall City University
Before/After: NA?
Warnings: Swearing, Mal's a dick
Duncan was finding himself a surprisingly effective offensive swordsman. Physical combat had never exactly been a forte of his. Everyone in his family was built like a weed, and even growing up on a farm could not make him build bulk. But swordplay didn't require any brute strength to be good at it, and was more about quick thinking and moving fast than overpowering your opponent. And, because you could use rotational momentum to your advantage due to the length of your arm plus the sword, it didn't even require a lot of strength to score a good hit with a slashing blow.
Which was, unfortunately, something Duncan kept forgetting during practice. He'd come to be one of the people others dreaded getting matched up with for sparring. Even though there were potions on hand to take care of any injuries, it still wasn't pleasant to have your sparring partner slice your arm open during practice because he was forgetting to go easy on you and happened to be a little faster than you were prepared for.
He apologized profusely every time, but that didn't prevent him from getting a reputation, and it didn't stop him from feeling like an asshole every time it happened, either.
Today, he'd been good about it until the last match-up, which had ended with him slashing a gash in his partner's forearm while going for a disarm that had been improperly blocked, and said partner then dropping his sword and slamming Duncan up against the wall. Thankfully, he walked away without starting a fight, but it still left Duncan a little shaken as he went to join Mal after class.
There was blood on his shirt from where he'd been grabbed. As he stopped beside Mal, he reached up to touch the wet patch near his collar and frowned down at the red smudging his fingers.
With all the dancing he'd done, both trained and untrained, Malachai found himself to be quite adept with all the nuances of the dance of sparring. Which meant he was better equipped to put himself at the same level as his sparring partner, better at avoiding the mishaps of going offensive against someone who was unprepared for his speed and agility. Which, in turn, meant people didn't mind sparring against him as much as they did against Duncan. It also meant he preferred sparring against Duncan, because he was better matched and more fun to cross swords with.
Mal's last match ended pretty uneventfully, and he saluted his partner with the tip of his sword (something he'd been told was probably not a good idea yet he still did it anyway), then went to grab some water. He caught the end of Duncan's match while he was drinking from the bottle, and raised a brow at him as he approached. "Still pissin' people off, eh?"
He grimaced, wiping his fingers off on his jeans. He'd have to wash the shirt anyway, might as well go two for two. A demoralized sounding, "Yeah," was all he could say to that.
He glanced up, scanning for Anais--Instructor Vallinar. The worst part was that he couldn't tell if he was a disappointing student or a promising one. And, you know, this was Anais. Someone he'd actually played off of and knew and, well, admired. He would very much like to be thought of as a promising student and worried that Anais's high standards meant he was not.
If Duncan had turned his head enough, he would have seen Anais coming up behind them and he would have realized she had overheard their brief conversation. Fortunately for him, he was hardly disappointing. Admittedly, when he had first walked into the classroom, she had had her doubts about him being decent at this, but he had swiftly proven her wrong. After all, you didn't need to be strong in order to fight with a blade. It took less than a pound of pressure to pierce flesh, after all.
Unfortunately for Duncan, however, his reputation had gotten back to her. She was certain it wasn't something he did on purpose, but it was enough to worry her nonetheless. She couldn't have her students walking home a bloody mess every time they left the class, after all.
"Well," she said, making her presence known at long last, "we certainly cannot have that, now, can we?"
Mal snickered, shaking his head. Duncan was always bothered by something, so this was nothing new, but he wondered if it was something he could help with.
He was pondering that when he heard Anais, and turned to look at her. The stupid grin on his face didn't fade, and he saluted her with his water bottle before taking another sip, glancing at Duncan to see how he handled the sudden interruption.
He was looking in the wrong direction. He certainly wasn't checking behind him. So when Anais's voice came from nowhere, he jumped and spun to face her, staring wide-eyed for a moment before his brain caught up with the situation.
"Uh..." Nope, he couldn't find anything to say. He didn't know if he was in trouble or not. Why did Anais have to be so intimidating? And on top of that, all he could think when confronted with her presence was I PLAYED ONE OF YOUR CO-WORKERS, which wasn't exactly something he could just blurt out unprompted.
She gave Mal a little nod in recognition of his little salute with the water bottle, and then turned her attention towards Duncan once again, expecting something, anything, to come out of his mouth. Unfortunately, if she had been expecting some form of eloquence, she was sadly mistaken. Why did he always seem to do that around her, anyway? It was a bit strange.
"Ah, yes, Mister Jackson," Anais said dryly. "As talkative as ever, I see." Wait. Was that almost a joke? Anais was almost disgusted with herself. This was what being on Earth and being around Lynea did to her. Why couldn't she just stay the way she had been? Why did change always have to enter into everything? "Am I truly that intimidating?"
Mal snickered again at Duncan's speechlessness, and nudged his arm with an elbow. "C'mon Chief, at least say 'hello'." His grin broadened as he looked back to Anais. "Don't mind him, he's kind of a fan. Just be glad he ain't babbling about how awesome y'are."
"S-sorry, I--" And then Mal started talking over him, which would have been a welcome excuse to shut his mouth except it was Mal. Duncan snapped him a 'what the fuck are you doing' glare.
Anais raised an eyebrow at that, folding her arms across her chest as she studied Duncan once again. "'A fan'?" How was that even remotely possible? Anais didn't think she had done anything particularly worthy of such attention since she started teaching here. So how...?
Wait... it was entirely possible they had known her before, wasn't it? Well, if they were players. Still, how exactly did you ask someone that? It would sound painfully accusatory if she were to just demand to know if they had played someone she knew, wouldn't it? Sometimes she thought this whole "player" mess was infinitely more trouble than it was worth.
Mal totally ignored Duncan's glare, nodding to Anais. "Yeah, he admires you and thinks you're pretty awesome. He can't believe we're in a class bein' taught by Anais Vallinar." He did his best to imitate Duncan's enthusasm in his emphasis of her name.
MAL YOU ASSHOLE. Duncan delivered a harsh jab to Mal's ribs with an elbow, giving him a "shut your goddamn face" glare.
Anais was oblivious to Duncan's glare towards Mal, focusing instead on Mal's words. It wasn't the first part of what he said so much as it was the second, as if her name was somehow that big of a deal. The only way she could see that would make her name even remotely impressive to anybody had to mean that Duncan had known her before, someone she had been in fairly close contact with. Slowly, she began to run each of the paladins and her league mates that she knew over in her head, and yet she found herself unable to determine any of them that Duncan might have played. Besides, it wasn't quite that simple, as she well knew. After all, one of the sweetest women she knew had played Acher, and he apparently had lost his mind when he found out...
She frowned, hesitating for a moment. Was that the sort of question she could really ask them? Still, the more Mal continued, the more she had to know, and after a moment, she asked, "You were a player, weren't you?"
It was a good thing Mal wasn't drinking when that happened or there'd have been water everywhere. All that happened instead was that he let out a giggle as he side-stepped away from Duncan.
But when Anais asked Duncan if he was a player, Mal realized maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to mention it. He had no idea what Anais thought of players, but she hadn't seemed bothered by Earthers in general. She was teaching a class to (mostly) Earthers, after all. Still, he wasn't sure what she'd think about Duncan as a player, considering he'd played Ravindra.
"You ever meet your player?" he asked Anais, casual-like. There wasn't much he could do to take back what he'd already said, but he was kind of curious.
Yeah Mal, maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to mention it, you motherfucker. Duncan shot him another glare, more covert, because Anais was actually talking to him this time. He considered lying or just talking around the answer, because he had no idea how Anais felt about players.
But this was Anais and she didn't tolerate that kind of shit, so what he ended up saying was, "Uh. Yes."
"No, I have not," Anais said to Mal with a little shrug. Anais had been curious, naturally, but while she had wondered what sort of person might have created her, she had been unable to locate her. Perhaps she was simply one of those individuals from Zenderael without one. They existed, so her time at X-DAV had taught her, but they sounded incredibly rare.
At Duncan's assertion that yes, he was in fact a player, she turned to look at him curiously. "And I assume you played someone who interacted with me with some sort of frequency, or else my name would have little significance to you. May I ask who that might have been?"
It was really difficult to read Anais, Mal discovered. Serious was about all he could read, and her answer to his question hadn't helped any. He wasn't all that worried, though, but wary of the conversation, because he wasn't sure how Duncan would handle it after class.
"Uhhh..." He glanced away nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He had no idea how Anais was going to react to this information, and he was really fucking annoyed that Mal had trapped him into this situation. "Sergeant Ravindra Savarna," came out, mostly mumbled.
Anyone who had ever done anything with Anais before knew that she typically wasn't prone to any sort of extreme reaction. She made an exception for that today, staring at Duncan with wide eyes. If she had been drinking something at the time, she was almost certain she would have choked on it. Duncan was Ravindra's player? But they didn't seem anything alike! Still, she supposed Lera was really nothing like Acher, either...
In spite of that, all she could do was stare at Duncan in disbelief and repeat, "You are Savarna's player."
"Ravindra's cool with him, though," Mal blurted out, and then glanced at Duncan. "Right? I mean, you guys've talked and stuff." He didn't know the details about their conversations, but just kind of assumed if they were on talking terms, then things were all right.
He wasn't really helping, was he?
...Actually that was about the reaction he'd expected from Anais. It was the reaction he'd hoped for, at the very least. Outright shock was a lot better than anger. "Yyyyup," he replied, a little bit at a loss. What else was there to say?
...Not that. Mal. Mal. Duncan flashed him a look, not a glare this time, just a Look that screamed, 'Stop saying words.'
Because, see, Ravi wasn't cool with Duncan. They'd talked, but Ravi was hostile usually, or suspicious at best. He hated players, and it was partly Duncan's fault. And, since Ravi and Anais actually talked to each other, Duncan couldn't guarantee what Ravi had told her about his player. For all either of them knew, she could be aware that Mal was outright lying to her.
"Excuse me," he told Anais, grabbing Mal by the arm and dragging him away a few feet. It wasn't out of Anais's earshot by any means, but it was the sentiment that counted. "Stop fucking helping," Duncan hissed at him.
Duncan was Ravindra's player. How did that even work? Duncan was the last person she would have expected to play someone she knew, but it did explain why he always looked at her with this sense of awe...
She frowned a little as Duncan dragged Mal away, though not so far away where Anais could not hear. She listened, only for a moment, before rolling her eyes and calling over, "Mister Jackson, if you are concerned I am going to try to cause you harm simply because of whatever you may have done to Savarna, you can stop being ridiculous about it and not drag Mister Brampton off for a supposedly private conversation that I can still hear." Really, did no one understand the concept of "private conversations" on Earth? They really weren't private if she could still hear them.
Mal almost stumbled, but let Duncan drag him off, blinking at him sheepishly. When Anais spoke before he could respond, he just stood there, silent. He was a little stunned, actually, and wondered what the repercussions of all this would be.
But he did realize it'd be best not to interrupt further and let Duncan handle it.
He cringed when Anais called him out. Anais that wasn't how this worked, you were supposed to politely fail to notice! But he shot Mal a warning glare and was satisfied that he would keep his mouth shut for a while, and then turned to return to Anais and address her again.
"Ravi's not, uh, on good terms with me," he explained, nervously rubbing his elbow. "So I don't know what he's told you."
"The last time we spoke of players," Anais confessed, "he was clearly very angry with you." She shrugged. She had no idea if that was still true, as she and Ravi hadn't really spoken about players since, save that she might be interested in speaking to hers if she had one, but Ravindra was a strange one. He might hold a grudge against Duncan forever. "As far as I am concerned, it is none of my business what you did to him, and it should stay between the two of you. He, however, seemed determined to think of all players as one terrible entity."
"Yeaaah, that...doesn't surprise me," he mumbled. There was the fight he'd gotten into with Ezra...
Maybe there was a way Duncan could've handled things better to give Ravi a better impression of players. Or, actually, maybe it was Jordan's goddamn fault for trying to kill Alex and Ravi catching wind of that. Fucking Jordan.
He noticed his eyes narrowing as his thoughts diverted, and he forced himself back to the present, turning his attention on Anais again. "I've tried to be good to him, he's just... Stubborn." That was the best way to put it.
Anais nodded. "Such is Savarna. There may never be help for him in that regard."
Mal let out a quiet sigh and started to gather up his things, tucking what fit into his bag, his sword still at his hip. He kept listening, but tried to be unobtrusive about it, while he ran over how the incident started and came up with various alternative scenarios that could've lead into it far more appropriately. Or just avoided it altogether.
He gave a helpless shrug and matching smile, not really having much more to say to that. Ravi's stubbornness was his own fault. He'd written him that way. And now that he was real, there really was no helping it.
"Sorry if it's weird," he said. "Having a coworker's player in your class."
"No," Anais assured him. Was it supposed to be awkward? Or had he just assumed it was going to be awkward regardless? It might have been if Duncan was a bit more like Ravindra, in which case Anais may have slipped and called him by Ravindra's name instead of his own, but as he wasn't, she really didn't see the problem or if there even should be one. "The only concern I have with you, Mister Jackson, is that some of your fellow students come away injured after sparring with you."
Duncan had just assumed it was going to be awkward regardless. He was more like Ravi than was readily apparent. Awkward without the self-consciousness, hated himself without the self-awareness of it. But he was relieved that Anais didn't think it was weird. Though he did wonder if she'd be mentally comparing him to Ravi from now on...
He grimaced slightly at the new turn of conversation, glancing away and nervously rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He caught himself doing it and forced his hand back down to his side. "I'm not doing it on purpose," came out a little mumbled, and a lot guilty.
"I'm aware." Unfortunately for Duncan, that didn't seem to matter to the other students. They still got mad at him for it. They still attempted to force him against the wall for things he clearly had no control over. It wasn't his fault that none of the people he was paired with knew how to block. "Your sparring partners, however, would apparently disagree."
He folded his arms, his shoulders drawn up, still not meeting Anais's eyes. If she was looking for resemblance to Ravindra, that particular posture was very familiar. "They have a right to be mad, I guess. Intent doesn't make a difference. They still got hurt whether I meant to do it or not."
Ah, yes, there it is. That's a very familiar Ravindra stance. She would have smiled a bit to see it if doing so wouldn't be so awkward now.
"They got hurt because they refused to learn to block." Anais had no sympathy for her own students. This was probably a poor trait for an instructor to have, and she was aware of it. However, if they hadn't figured it out by now, they were simply refusing to learn, and they would most likely fail the final examination, unlike Duncan. "If they cannot handle themselves against you, they have little chance of surviving a proper sword fight outside this classroom."
Wait, what? He'd been quiet, because it wasn't really his conversation, and after a 'talking to' from Duncan, he hadn't wanted to interfere. But after staring at Anais for a moment after what she said, he had to speak up.
"You're their teacher. It's as much your failing as it is theirs if you can't teach them how to block. They didn't just up an' decide 'I'm not gonna learn how to block because that's useless' or some shit."
Anais's response caught him off-guard. He looked up at her, brow furrowed, not sure what to say to that. Really, it was expected coming from Anais, but not expected coming from his instructor. She had a point, in that if the other students couldn't handle a fellow amateur, they wouldn't last in a real fight. But...they were all amateurs here. They shouldn't be expected to last in a real fight. This was an introductory level course.
And people didn't just decide not to learn vital course skills, usually. They had trouble grasping the concept and gave up. Calling it 'refusing to learn' was...uncomfortable. If he hadn't ended up catching on as quickly as he had, would she be saying the same of him?
Mal spoke up in his place. Duncan straightened out, glancing toward him. Hearing Mal mouth off to Anais Vallinar was at least a little nervewracking, but uh--he had a point. If the students weren't learning how to block properly, it was because Anais wasn't teaching them in a way that clicked.
Duncan's eyes went back to Anais, waiting on edge for her response.
Anais' face did not change, but, internally, Anais was grinning. Rare was it that anyone talked back to her. Ravindra got away with it often enough, but that was only because Ravindra was her friend. Rasmus would be able to do so, as well, if Rasmus wasn't quite so nice about everything. For her students to do it, however, meant that they weren't quite as passive and mindless as many of them often appeared to be. Anais ran the class her way, and her students might hate her for it, but she secretly waited for the day one of them would stand up to her. So far, Malachai was the only one who succeeded.
Unfortunately for him, however, he had still mouthed off a teacher. As proud of him as she was, she still had to punish him a little bit.
"I am aware, Mister Brampton." It was a sad failing on Anais' part. Her fighting style had always been more offensive, and she often relied on magic to protect her from the things she couldn't handle. Malachai, on the other hand, had developed a fighting style that was built around defense, which was what she needed to show. "That is why you will be joining me for demonstrations beginning the next time we meet, and you and Mister Jackson will be permanent sparring partners to avoid any more accidental injuries. Are we clear?"
Mal blinked. That wasn't the outcome he'd been looking for. Actually, he wasn't sure what he'd been looking for. He'd spoken up without thinking, because he simply had to say something.
He took a moment to think about it. He probably didn't have a choice, but after some thought, he grinned. It couldn't be that bad, right? Going up against a paladin. At least it was only for demonstrations, and he really did enjoy being the center of attention, so in a way he won out, even if he did manage to fuck up and get cut up in front of the entire class.
He'd have to make some extra healing potions and start bringing them to class, though, just in case.
"Sure thing, ma'am!"
Duncan's eyebrows rose. That was obviously meant as a punishment for mouthing off, and damn what a punishment. But Mal seemed fine with it, and hopefully the other students would get something out of it, so all's well that ends well...?
The part about getting permanently paired with Mal earned a very slight shift toward disappointment, but he answered her with, "Yes, ma'am."
He understood why. It was just...you didn't learn variety if you were only facing one person all the time.
"Good." The problem, of course, was that Anais was almost certain there was a hint of disappointment when Duncan responded. Truthfully, she didn't blame him for being a bit disappointed, but she legitimately wasn't sure what else she could do. There wasn't a single student she could think of outside of Malachai who was even remotely capable of sparring with Duncan and emerging unscathed. The accidental injuries wouldn't have bothered her if they didn't seem to be such a common occurrence. They had healing potions on hand for such things, but students apparently liked to complain.
Even so, she wasn't sure there were enough words to assure Duncan that she was just trying to minimize injuries, especially when she was certain he understood that was her motivation behind her decision. It was disappointing, to be sure, but there was nothing else she could do about it, unless she wanted to drive the rest of her class away.
Still, what else could she say except, "I shall see you tomorrow morning, then." That said, she turned as if to go back the way she had come. It was a bit awkward, she supposed, the sort of abrupt departure she would have expected from Ravindra rather than her. However, she was unsure what else to say, and, in that case, it was probably better to leave, especially when she had interrupted their conversation earlier. If they needed her for anything else, they could certainly stop her before she got too far.
As Anais walked away, Mal turned back to Duncan with a shit-eating grin. "I'm thinkin' of getting a second sword, learnin' dual-blade." He already switched it up now and then in practice to keep both hands trained, which was a bit challenging with the limited time in class, but he wanted to take advantage of being ambidextrous, and there were opportunities to practice outside of class, as well. "You think she'd object?"
He'd already forgotten about his conversational faux pas.
Duncan hadn't.
Once Anais was gone (and he was glad she'd left it at that instead of drawing attention to his reaction and making things awkward), he turned to Mal, his anger easily reappearing. "You know what I object to? You fucking telling alts I was a player without asking me if it's okay first."
His grin faltered, fading into a half-grin with a hint of uncertainty. "I didn't say you were a player. She just... assumed..."
It was easy to tell he knew he'd fucked up and was making a poor attempt to cover his ass.
"That is a technicality and you fucking know it. Where the fuck else could that conversation have gone?" he demanded, sweeping an arm out as if to encompass the scope of his outrage. "And don't fucking speak for me, either. Ravi's not cool with me. He's never been cool with me and he never will be. But he is cool with Anais and you know jack-fucking-shit about what he's told her, and just as much about what she thinks of it."
He wanted to argue. It was just what he did, argue shit out and try to make it like he hadn't done anything wrong. But that kept getting him into trouble, a lot more lately than it ever had before. And if there was anyone he didn't want to be in trouble with, it was Duncan. Especially now, with Duncan being pretty much the only friend he had left on Earth.
Mal hung his head, his shoulders sagging, and lowered his gaze to the floor. He wasn't faking it. He really did feel bad about it, for putting Duncan into that position at all. And knowing how much Duncan liked his characters, how attached he became to them, having Ravi hate him probably made matters worse.
For once, he actually kept his mouth shut and thought it out before saying anything, even though all he could think to say was, "I'm sorry."
Duncan was one of those people who liked to stay angry even after his reason to was taken away. He almost preferred it when Mal argued, because it gave him an excuse to vent his anger. Even now, the cowed look and the apology weren't good enough. They became the point at which Duncan realized that continuing to chew Mal out would be unreasonable, but it wasn't quite enough to push him over the threshold of caring enough to be reasonable.
Ironically, his reply was, "Fucking think before you say shit once in a while, huh?" He emphasized the 'think' by touching his fingers to his forehead and jerking his hand away. He didn't stick around long enough for Mal's response. He wasn't in the mood to hear anything Mal had to say. After he had a chance to cool off, they could talk it out like reasonable adults, but Duncan knew he had to remove himself before he turned this into a shouting match. He turned and stalked away, leaving Mal behind in the classroom.
When: Monday, Aug 1st
Where: Fall City University
Before/After: NA?
Warnings: Swearing, Mal's a dick
Duncan was finding himself a surprisingly effective offensive swordsman. Physical combat had never exactly been a forte of his. Everyone in his family was built like a weed, and even growing up on a farm could not make him build bulk. But swordplay didn't require any brute strength to be good at it, and was more about quick thinking and moving fast than overpowering your opponent. And, because you could use rotational momentum to your advantage due to the length of your arm plus the sword, it didn't even require a lot of strength to score a good hit with a slashing blow.
Which was, unfortunately, something Duncan kept forgetting during practice. He'd come to be one of the people others dreaded getting matched up with for sparring. Even though there were potions on hand to take care of any injuries, it still wasn't pleasant to have your sparring partner slice your arm open during practice because he was forgetting to go easy on you and happened to be a little faster than you were prepared for.
He apologized profusely every time, but that didn't prevent him from getting a reputation, and it didn't stop him from feeling like an asshole every time it happened, either.
Today, he'd been good about it until the last match-up, which had ended with him slashing a gash in his partner's forearm while going for a disarm that had been improperly blocked, and said partner then dropping his sword and slamming Duncan up against the wall. Thankfully, he walked away without starting a fight, but it still left Duncan a little shaken as he went to join Mal after class.
There was blood on his shirt from where he'd been grabbed. As he stopped beside Mal, he reached up to touch the wet patch near his collar and frowned down at the red smudging his fingers.
With all the dancing he'd done, both trained and untrained, Malachai found himself to be quite adept with all the nuances of the dance of sparring. Which meant he was better equipped to put himself at the same level as his sparring partner, better at avoiding the mishaps of going offensive against someone who was unprepared for his speed and agility. Which, in turn, meant people didn't mind sparring against him as much as they did against Duncan. It also meant he preferred sparring against Duncan, because he was better matched and more fun to cross swords with.
Mal's last match ended pretty uneventfully, and he saluted his partner with the tip of his sword (something he'd been told was probably not a good idea yet he still did it anyway), then went to grab some water. He caught the end of Duncan's match while he was drinking from the bottle, and raised a brow at him as he approached. "Still pissin' people off, eh?"
He grimaced, wiping his fingers off on his jeans. He'd have to wash the shirt anyway, might as well go two for two. A demoralized sounding, "Yeah," was all he could say to that.
He glanced up, scanning for Anais--Instructor Vallinar. The worst part was that he couldn't tell if he was a disappointing student or a promising one. And, you know, this was Anais. Someone he'd actually played off of and knew and, well, admired. He would very much like to be thought of as a promising student and worried that Anais's high standards meant he was not.
If Duncan had turned his head enough, he would have seen Anais coming up behind them and he would have realized she had overheard their brief conversation. Fortunately for him, he was hardly disappointing. Admittedly, when he had first walked into the classroom, she had had her doubts about him being decent at this, but he had swiftly proven her wrong. After all, you didn't need to be strong in order to fight with a blade. It took less than a pound of pressure to pierce flesh, after all.
Unfortunately for Duncan, however, his reputation had gotten back to her. She was certain it wasn't something he did on purpose, but it was enough to worry her nonetheless. She couldn't have her students walking home a bloody mess every time they left the class, after all.
"Well," she said, making her presence known at long last, "we certainly cannot have that, now, can we?"
Mal snickered, shaking his head. Duncan was always bothered by something, so this was nothing new, but he wondered if it was something he could help with.
He was pondering that when he heard Anais, and turned to look at her. The stupid grin on his face didn't fade, and he saluted her with his water bottle before taking another sip, glancing at Duncan to see how he handled the sudden interruption.
He was looking in the wrong direction. He certainly wasn't checking behind him. So when Anais's voice came from nowhere, he jumped and spun to face her, staring wide-eyed for a moment before his brain caught up with the situation.
"Uh..." Nope, he couldn't find anything to say. He didn't know if he was in trouble or not. Why did Anais have to be so intimidating? And on top of that, all he could think when confronted with her presence was I PLAYED ONE OF YOUR CO-WORKERS, which wasn't exactly something he could just blurt out unprompted.
She gave Mal a little nod in recognition of his little salute with the water bottle, and then turned her attention towards Duncan once again, expecting something, anything, to come out of his mouth. Unfortunately, if she had been expecting some form of eloquence, she was sadly mistaken. Why did he always seem to do that around her, anyway? It was a bit strange.
"Ah, yes, Mister Jackson," Anais said dryly. "As talkative as ever, I see." Wait. Was that almost a joke? Anais was almost disgusted with herself. This was what being on Earth and being around Lynea did to her. Why couldn't she just stay the way she had been? Why did change always have to enter into everything? "Am I truly that intimidating?"
Mal snickered again at Duncan's speechlessness, and nudged his arm with an elbow. "C'mon Chief, at least say 'hello'." His grin broadened as he looked back to Anais. "Don't mind him, he's kind of a fan. Just be glad he ain't babbling about how awesome y'are."
"S-sorry, I--" And then Mal started talking over him, which would have been a welcome excuse to shut his mouth except it was Mal. Duncan snapped him a 'what the fuck are you doing' glare.
Anais raised an eyebrow at that, folding her arms across her chest as she studied Duncan once again. "'A fan'?" How was that even remotely possible? Anais didn't think she had done anything particularly worthy of such attention since she started teaching here. So how...?
Wait... it was entirely possible they had known her before, wasn't it? Well, if they were players. Still, how exactly did you ask someone that? It would sound painfully accusatory if she were to just demand to know if they had played someone she knew, wouldn't it? Sometimes she thought this whole "player" mess was infinitely more trouble than it was worth.
Mal totally ignored Duncan's glare, nodding to Anais. "Yeah, he admires you and thinks you're pretty awesome. He can't believe we're in a class bein' taught by Anais Vallinar." He did his best to imitate Duncan's enthusasm in his emphasis of her name.
MAL YOU ASSHOLE. Duncan delivered a harsh jab to Mal's ribs with an elbow, giving him a "shut your goddamn face" glare.
Anais was oblivious to Duncan's glare towards Mal, focusing instead on Mal's words. It wasn't the first part of what he said so much as it was the second, as if her name was somehow that big of a deal. The only way she could see that would make her name even remotely impressive to anybody had to mean that Duncan had known her before, someone she had been in fairly close contact with. Slowly, she began to run each of the paladins and her league mates that she knew over in her head, and yet she found herself unable to determine any of them that Duncan might have played. Besides, it wasn't quite that simple, as she well knew. After all, one of the sweetest women she knew had played Acher, and he apparently had lost his mind when he found out...
She frowned, hesitating for a moment. Was that the sort of question she could really ask them? Still, the more Mal continued, the more she had to know, and after a moment, she asked, "You were a player, weren't you?"
It was a good thing Mal wasn't drinking when that happened or there'd have been water everywhere. All that happened instead was that he let out a giggle as he side-stepped away from Duncan.
But when Anais asked Duncan if he was a player, Mal realized maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to mention it. He had no idea what Anais thought of players, but she hadn't seemed bothered by Earthers in general. She was teaching a class to (mostly) Earthers, after all. Still, he wasn't sure what she'd think about Duncan as a player, considering he'd played Ravindra.
"You ever meet your player?" he asked Anais, casual-like. There wasn't much he could do to take back what he'd already said, but he was kind of curious.
Yeah Mal, maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to mention it, you motherfucker. Duncan shot him another glare, more covert, because Anais was actually talking to him this time. He considered lying or just talking around the answer, because he had no idea how Anais felt about players.
But this was Anais and she didn't tolerate that kind of shit, so what he ended up saying was, "Uh. Yes."
"No, I have not," Anais said to Mal with a little shrug. Anais had been curious, naturally, but while she had wondered what sort of person might have created her, she had been unable to locate her. Perhaps she was simply one of those individuals from Zenderael without one. They existed, so her time at X-DAV had taught her, but they sounded incredibly rare.
At Duncan's assertion that yes, he was in fact a player, she turned to look at him curiously. "And I assume you played someone who interacted with me with some sort of frequency, or else my name would have little significance to you. May I ask who that might have been?"
It was really difficult to read Anais, Mal discovered. Serious was about all he could read, and her answer to his question hadn't helped any. He wasn't all that worried, though, but wary of the conversation, because he wasn't sure how Duncan would handle it after class.
"Uhhh..." He glanced away nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He had no idea how Anais was going to react to this information, and he was really fucking annoyed that Mal had trapped him into this situation. "Sergeant Ravindra Savarna," came out, mostly mumbled.
Anyone who had ever done anything with Anais before knew that she typically wasn't prone to any sort of extreme reaction. She made an exception for that today, staring at Duncan with wide eyes. If she had been drinking something at the time, she was almost certain she would have choked on it. Duncan was Ravindra's player? But they didn't seem anything alike! Still, she supposed Lera was really nothing like Acher, either...
In spite of that, all she could do was stare at Duncan in disbelief and repeat, "You are Savarna's player."
"Ravindra's cool with him, though," Mal blurted out, and then glanced at Duncan. "Right? I mean, you guys've talked and stuff." He didn't know the details about their conversations, but just kind of assumed if they were on talking terms, then things were all right.
He wasn't really helping, was he?
...Actually that was about the reaction he'd expected from Anais. It was the reaction he'd hoped for, at the very least. Outright shock was a lot better than anger. "Yyyyup," he replied, a little bit at a loss. What else was there to say?
...Not that. Mal. Mal. Duncan flashed him a look, not a glare this time, just a Look that screamed, 'Stop saying words.'
Because, see, Ravi wasn't cool with Duncan. They'd talked, but Ravi was hostile usually, or suspicious at best. He hated players, and it was partly Duncan's fault. And, since Ravi and Anais actually talked to each other, Duncan couldn't guarantee what Ravi had told her about his player. For all either of them knew, she could be aware that Mal was outright lying to her.
"Excuse me," he told Anais, grabbing Mal by the arm and dragging him away a few feet. It wasn't out of Anais's earshot by any means, but it was the sentiment that counted. "Stop fucking helping," Duncan hissed at him.
Duncan was Ravindra's player. How did that even work? Duncan was the last person she would have expected to play someone she knew, but it did explain why he always looked at her with this sense of awe...
She frowned a little as Duncan dragged Mal away, though not so far away where Anais could not hear. She listened, only for a moment, before rolling her eyes and calling over, "Mister Jackson, if you are concerned I am going to try to cause you harm simply because of whatever you may have done to Savarna, you can stop being ridiculous about it and not drag Mister Brampton off for a supposedly private conversation that I can still hear." Really, did no one understand the concept of "private conversations" on Earth? They really weren't private if she could still hear them.
Mal almost stumbled, but let Duncan drag him off, blinking at him sheepishly. When Anais spoke before he could respond, he just stood there, silent. He was a little stunned, actually, and wondered what the repercussions of all this would be.
But he did realize it'd be best not to interrupt further and let Duncan handle it.
He cringed when Anais called him out. Anais that wasn't how this worked, you were supposed to politely fail to notice! But he shot Mal a warning glare and was satisfied that he would keep his mouth shut for a while, and then turned to return to Anais and address her again.
"Ravi's not, uh, on good terms with me," he explained, nervously rubbing his elbow. "So I don't know what he's told you."
"The last time we spoke of players," Anais confessed, "he was clearly very angry with you." She shrugged. She had no idea if that was still true, as she and Ravi hadn't really spoken about players since, save that she might be interested in speaking to hers if she had one, but Ravindra was a strange one. He might hold a grudge against Duncan forever. "As far as I am concerned, it is none of my business what you did to him, and it should stay between the two of you. He, however, seemed determined to think of all players as one terrible entity."
"Yeaaah, that...doesn't surprise me," he mumbled. There was the fight he'd gotten into with Ezra...
Maybe there was a way Duncan could've handled things better to give Ravi a better impression of players. Or, actually, maybe it was Jordan's goddamn fault for trying to kill Alex and Ravi catching wind of that. Fucking Jordan.
He noticed his eyes narrowing as his thoughts diverted, and he forced himself back to the present, turning his attention on Anais again. "I've tried to be good to him, he's just... Stubborn." That was the best way to put it.
Anais nodded. "Such is Savarna. There may never be help for him in that regard."
Mal let out a quiet sigh and started to gather up his things, tucking what fit into his bag, his sword still at his hip. He kept listening, but tried to be unobtrusive about it, while he ran over how the incident started and came up with various alternative scenarios that could've lead into it far more appropriately. Or just avoided it altogether.
He gave a helpless shrug and matching smile, not really having much more to say to that. Ravi's stubbornness was his own fault. He'd written him that way. And now that he was real, there really was no helping it.
"Sorry if it's weird," he said. "Having a coworker's player in your class."
"No," Anais assured him. Was it supposed to be awkward? Or had he just assumed it was going to be awkward regardless? It might have been if Duncan was a bit more like Ravindra, in which case Anais may have slipped and called him by Ravindra's name instead of his own, but as he wasn't, she really didn't see the problem or if there even should be one. "The only concern I have with you, Mister Jackson, is that some of your fellow students come away injured after sparring with you."
Duncan had just assumed it was going to be awkward regardless. He was more like Ravi than was readily apparent. Awkward without the self-consciousness, hated himself without the self-awareness of it. But he was relieved that Anais didn't think it was weird. Though he did wonder if she'd be mentally comparing him to Ravi from now on...
He grimaced slightly at the new turn of conversation, glancing away and nervously rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He caught himself doing it and forced his hand back down to his side. "I'm not doing it on purpose," came out a little mumbled, and a lot guilty.
"I'm aware." Unfortunately for Duncan, that didn't seem to matter to the other students. They still got mad at him for it. They still attempted to force him against the wall for things he clearly had no control over. It wasn't his fault that none of the people he was paired with knew how to block. "Your sparring partners, however, would apparently disagree."
He folded his arms, his shoulders drawn up, still not meeting Anais's eyes. If she was looking for resemblance to Ravindra, that particular posture was very familiar. "They have a right to be mad, I guess. Intent doesn't make a difference. They still got hurt whether I meant to do it or not."
Ah, yes, there it is. That's a very familiar Ravindra stance. She would have smiled a bit to see it if doing so wouldn't be so awkward now.
"They got hurt because they refused to learn to block." Anais had no sympathy for her own students. This was probably a poor trait for an instructor to have, and she was aware of it. However, if they hadn't figured it out by now, they were simply refusing to learn, and they would most likely fail the final examination, unlike Duncan. "If they cannot handle themselves against you, they have little chance of surviving a proper sword fight outside this classroom."
Wait, what? He'd been quiet, because it wasn't really his conversation, and after a 'talking to' from Duncan, he hadn't wanted to interfere. But after staring at Anais for a moment after what she said, he had to speak up.
"You're their teacher. It's as much your failing as it is theirs if you can't teach them how to block. They didn't just up an' decide 'I'm not gonna learn how to block because that's useless' or some shit."
Anais's response caught him off-guard. He looked up at her, brow furrowed, not sure what to say to that. Really, it was expected coming from Anais, but not expected coming from his instructor. She had a point, in that if the other students couldn't handle a fellow amateur, they wouldn't last in a real fight. But...they were all amateurs here. They shouldn't be expected to last in a real fight. This was an introductory level course.
And people didn't just decide not to learn vital course skills, usually. They had trouble grasping the concept and gave up. Calling it 'refusing to learn' was...uncomfortable. If he hadn't ended up catching on as quickly as he had, would she be saying the same of him?
Mal spoke up in his place. Duncan straightened out, glancing toward him. Hearing Mal mouth off to Anais Vallinar was at least a little nervewracking, but uh--he had a point. If the students weren't learning how to block properly, it was because Anais wasn't teaching them in a way that clicked.
Duncan's eyes went back to Anais, waiting on edge for her response.
Anais' face did not change, but, internally, Anais was grinning. Rare was it that anyone talked back to her. Ravindra got away with it often enough, but that was only because Ravindra was her friend. Rasmus would be able to do so, as well, if Rasmus wasn't quite so nice about everything. For her students to do it, however, meant that they weren't quite as passive and mindless as many of them often appeared to be. Anais ran the class her way, and her students might hate her for it, but she secretly waited for the day one of them would stand up to her. So far, Malachai was the only one who succeeded.
Unfortunately for him, however, he had still mouthed off a teacher. As proud of him as she was, she still had to punish him a little bit.
"I am aware, Mister Brampton." It was a sad failing on Anais' part. Her fighting style had always been more offensive, and she often relied on magic to protect her from the things she couldn't handle. Malachai, on the other hand, had developed a fighting style that was built around defense, which was what she needed to show. "That is why you will be joining me for demonstrations beginning the next time we meet, and you and Mister Jackson will be permanent sparring partners to avoid any more accidental injuries. Are we clear?"
Mal blinked. That wasn't the outcome he'd been looking for. Actually, he wasn't sure what he'd been looking for. He'd spoken up without thinking, because he simply had to say something.
He took a moment to think about it. He probably didn't have a choice, but after some thought, he grinned. It couldn't be that bad, right? Going up against a paladin. At least it was only for demonstrations, and he really did enjoy being the center of attention, so in a way he won out, even if he did manage to fuck up and get cut up in front of the entire class.
He'd have to make some extra healing potions and start bringing them to class, though, just in case.
"Sure thing, ma'am!"
Duncan's eyebrows rose. That was obviously meant as a punishment for mouthing off, and damn what a punishment. But Mal seemed fine with it, and hopefully the other students would get something out of it, so all's well that ends well...?
The part about getting permanently paired with Mal earned a very slight shift toward disappointment, but he answered her with, "Yes, ma'am."
He understood why. It was just...you didn't learn variety if you were only facing one person all the time.
"Good." The problem, of course, was that Anais was almost certain there was a hint of disappointment when Duncan responded. Truthfully, she didn't blame him for being a bit disappointed, but she legitimately wasn't sure what else she could do. There wasn't a single student she could think of outside of Malachai who was even remotely capable of sparring with Duncan and emerging unscathed. The accidental injuries wouldn't have bothered her if they didn't seem to be such a common occurrence. They had healing potions on hand for such things, but students apparently liked to complain.
Even so, she wasn't sure there were enough words to assure Duncan that she was just trying to minimize injuries, especially when she was certain he understood that was her motivation behind her decision. It was disappointing, to be sure, but there was nothing else she could do about it, unless she wanted to drive the rest of her class away.
Still, what else could she say except, "I shall see you tomorrow morning, then." That said, she turned as if to go back the way she had come. It was a bit awkward, she supposed, the sort of abrupt departure she would have expected from Ravindra rather than her. However, she was unsure what else to say, and, in that case, it was probably better to leave, especially when she had interrupted their conversation earlier. If they needed her for anything else, they could certainly stop her before she got too far.
As Anais walked away, Mal turned back to Duncan with a shit-eating grin. "I'm thinkin' of getting a second sword, learnin' dual-blade." He already switched it up now and then in practice to keep both hands trained, which was a bit challenging with the limited time in class, but he wanted to take advantage of being ambidextrous, and there were opportunities to practice outside of class, as well. "You think she'd object?"
He'd already forgotten about his conversational faux pas.
Duncan hadn't.
Once Anais was gone (and he was glad she'd left it at that instead of drawing attention to his reaction and making things awkward), he turned to Mal, his anger easily reappearing. "You know what I object to? You fucking telling alts I was a player without asking me if it's okay first."
His grin faltered, fading into a half-grin with a hint of uncertainty. "I didn't say you were a player. She just... assumed..."
It was easy to tell he knew he'd fucked up and was making a poor attempt to cover his ass.
"That is a technicality and you fucking know it. Where the fuck else could that conversation have gone?" he demanded, sweeping an arm out as if to encompass the scope of his outrage. "And don't fucking speak for me, either. Ravi's not cool with me. He's never been cool with me and he never will be. But he is cool with Anais and you know jack-fucking-shit about what he's told her, and just as much about what she thinks of it."
He wanted to argue. It was just what he did, argue shit out and try to make it like he hadn't done anything wrong. But that kept getting him into trouble, a lot more lately than it ever had before. And if there was anyone he didn't want to be in trouble with, it was Duncan. Especially now, with Duncan being pretty much the only friend he had left on Earth.
Mal hung his head, his shoulders sagging, and lowered his gaze to the floor. He wasn't faking it. He really did feel bad about it, for putting Duncan into that position at all. And knowing how much Duncan liked his characters, how attached he became to them, having Ravi hate him probably made matters worse.
For once, he actually kept his mouth shut and thought it out before saying anything, even though all he could think to say was, "I'm sorry."
Duncan was one of those people who liked to stay angry even after his reason to was taken away. He almost preferred it when Mal argued, because it gave him an excuse to vent his anger. Even now, the cowed look and the apology weren't good enough. They became the point at which Duncan realized that continuing to chew Mal out would be unreasonable, but it wasn't quite enough to push him over the threshold of caring enough to be reasonable.
Ironically, his reply was, "Fucking think before you say shit once in a while, huh?" He emphasized the 'think' by touching his fingers to his forehead and jerking his hand away. He didn't stick around long enough for Mal's response. He wasn't in the mood to hear anything Mal had to say. After he had a chance to cool off, they could talk it out like reasonable adults, but Duncan knew he had to remove himself before he turned this into a shouting match. He turned and stalked away, leaving Mal behind in the classroom.