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 Posted: Tue May 29, 2012 8:18 pm
Camelot looked at the feather in wonder. He had seen some short straws being drawn for weapons before, though no actual short straws just yet, but this was one of the saddest he'd seen yet. A feather seemed about as useless in a fight as it could get, but he was sure it would turn into something useful.
And at least when he powered up he would have magic to aid him.
Camelot felt more and more that he never should have complained about his shield, back when it was new. Sure, it was small and apparently made of cardboard, but it had been more useful than he had ever given it credit. At least it could hit something, and do damage. And it had turned into something he found to be invaluable and incredible.
And it had not been a feather, so there was that.
"Well," he said thoughtfully, breathing in slowly as he considered, "I guess tickling would always catch an opponent off guard, but it would only work once. Distraction is a good tactic, though, when you have someone with you." He smiled at the Page, noting his embarrassment but not commenting on it. He didn't want to make it worse, and was trying to help.
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Posted: Tue May 29, 2012 9:47 pm
Where as Camelot seemed to be parroting one of the tactics that Nysa had mentioned before, the teal-haired fellow seemed to be thinking a bit more critically over the subject he had introduced. Color still touched his cheeks, but it would eventually dissipate given enough time. "Tickling only works one time, and it only works on certain types of enemies. I have seen a variety of youma that it would not work upon. Thick, rough skin and scales are not very easy to tickle."
There was a pause as he tilted his head slightly, trying to momentarily mask his one eye with his hair to hide his shame a bit further as he made a joke at his own expense. "I suppose if I encounter any agent of the Negaverse, I can make them laugh by merely seeing 'The Pinion of the Sea.'" With his gloved finger, he stroked the fluffier side of the feather before opening his coat again to replace it back in the interior pocket. Where there had been some embarrassment over the subject of what his weapon was, the lad seemed to also have a strange sense of pride over the object as well.
After all, what boy would give a feather a name?
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 11:41 am
"Well, most youma have eyes," he said, "and mouths. Gag reflexes, sight impairment. It doesn't... it's not the nicest... ah." He frowned at the feather, trying to imagine sticking it inside a youma's mouth, or poking an eye out with it.
Both were gross images, but they would be effective if possible. Not a tactic he would use against a living opponent, though. Like an agent of chaos.
Camelot was not unused to people naming their weapons. He'd met a few who had done so, some friends, some not. He'd never come up with a name for his shield, though it had a cool dragon on it, and a crystal in it, and it all but felt alive on his arm, even at rest. And brave knights of the past named their swords. There was Excalibur, after all.
He was getting side tracked. But he liked thinking about things he hadn't thought of before.
Chuckling, he nodded, "that might work out well for you. You'd certainly be unique in this fight, at least, and get well known." He grinned, though really he was interested to see what the feather became. He always found himself thinking of their future, these kids he met, and how they would grow. he would help, as best he could.
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 6:50 pm
Though the lad could tell his elder's statements were in jest, the Page did not allow his features to crack any sort of smile similar to the wider one Camelot was showing now. His smile remained soft and dignified, which seemed to match the tone of the voice that escaped his lips as he replied.
"I do not seek any sort of fame through my works in this uniform, nor would I be shameless enough to seek such attentions through humors focused upon my weapon." There had been that one Lieutenant he had come across who perhaps would not have had such sensibility about remaining humble. He seemed like the sort who would have gone for any attention that dared to grace him.
The teal haired fellow them gently brushed the hair he had purposely used to mask one of his eyes out of his line of vision before allowing a gentle laugh to escape him, merely to show his current companion that he was not offended at all by his jesting.
Glancing outwards towards the city that surrounded them, the lad then stated the obvious. "...It seems to be growing late..."
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 8:47 pm
"Of course not," Camelot said, with a nod of his head and a little smile. He sighed, but it wasn't out of annoyance or even being tired. He was feeling strangely wistful. Happy. It used to bother him, meeting new kids in the war, hating their life being wasted for a cause they couldn't possibly believe in.
And it still did, of course.
But there was also an interest, a sense of investment in each one. A need to aid, to support, to watch as they found themselves and grew stronger. To protect and serve. His fellows, his comrades, were his family. He had so many kids, it was a little ridiculous.
But he loved them all.
"It is. I guess we should be back to our patrols, or be heading home. I'm not sure of your schedule but ah. Yes. It was a pleasure talking to you, though. If you ever need any help, I'm usually at the library when I begin my patrols."
He took a slow breath. He was in a good mood. There was something hopeful in all this, really.
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 9:04 pm
The man seemed to understand what Nysa's comment was meant to direct the attention to. He nodded his head, then extended his gloved hand out towards his senior.
"The pleasure was all mine, Sir Camelot." The Page seemed to have all sorts of manners, seeming set upon shaking hands before departing.
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2012 10:57 am
Camelot moved to take the other's hand, giving it a firm shake. he nodded his head, a slight bow, and smiled at the other knight coyly. He moved back.
"Have a good night, and stay safe."
He bowed again, this time properly, something he had adopted whenever he was talking to other knights. And people he liked, and respected, of course. Actually, he found he was bowing quite a lot now, and he needed to put conscious thought into not doing it when he was powered down. He sometimes let being a knight run away with him.
He couldn't help some things, and they never changed. He would always get a boyish thrill out of being a knight. It had always been a dream and, in many ways, still was.
He moved to hop to the next roof over, not wanting to make Nysa feel uncomfortable or force him to leave first. He was having a good time, and was interested to see what Nysa learned as he explored his past, himself, and his duties.
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2012 5:41 pm
It would seem that Sir Camelot was into theatrics as a Knight. He had also been the one to leave first, giving Nysa the chance to watch the direction he went. There was a chance he was moving to continue with his patrol, which meant that it was territory he frequented. There was also the chance he was turning in, which also meant it was frequented territory, but by a different means.
The length in pause between Camelot's exit and Nysa's was quite drastic. It was only when Camelot was completely out of sight that the lad then decided to head back towards the hell hole that was his school campus.
Even in a Page's uniform, he still had pride, and the last thing he needed was to be associated with trash.
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