Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bearshermark) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diatu2019-02-13 11:38 pm
bearshermark) wrote in diatu2019-02-13 11:38 pm
[OTA Log]!
Who: Eleven and you!
When: February, sometime!
Where: Various bits of the academy
What: Eleven trying really hard at things.
Class Schedule
[It's all new: the school, the uniforms, talk of classes and wildly casual displays of magic. What isn't new though, is once again being completely and utterly normal- or at least, as normal as a Sundered gets.
That feeling of other isn't new either.
But he's followed the rules, met with an adviser and expressed his interests. Now he waits like every other student for his schedule with the self-same nerves. ..Well, maybe he has a few more nerves because he's never been to school before, and by virtue of that, surrounded by scholarly sorts. But the girls at L'Academie had seemed happy to be there, so surely it can't be too bad.
When at last his schedule floats into his hands, his eyes instantly scan down the length of the sheet. Most of them are required courses due his House, but there it is- Forging. He turns a grin on the students in close proximity, suddenly eager to share schedules]
What classes are you taking?
First Class
[Eleven likens sitting in class to sitting in church. Only, rather than listening passively, they're apparently meant to be taking notes. Now, he can write his letters well enough, but many of the terms being used escape him, and the instructions quickly become too much to keep up with.
Within the first hour of instruction, his hand is already beginning to cramp and his notes feel too far behind to be of much use later. It's all he can do just to listen and try to follow the shifts in topic. By the time the professor finally asks a question and seems to expect an answer, he's practically cringing into his seat.]
..This is harder than I thought.
Sword Training
[It takes him awhile to find something suitable for it, but Eleven manages to find then drag a few straw dummies out of obscure storage to an open area to train on.
He probably should have figured they'd be able to move on their own, but he's still very surprised when one suddenly leaps to the side and his sword meets nothing but air. Past the initial shock of it however, excitement leaps in his chest and he follows up the swing with a sharp turn and very nearly hits it this time.
Eleven laughs and thrills in the challenge.
With only echoes of training to speak of, he's proficient but not terribly skilled and his form could definitely be better. It's also apparent that he's lacking something, as his left arm moves as though practiced, yet acts as little more than a counter-balance and support for two-handed strikes.
Though he fends them off for a little while, he starts to run into a bit of trouble shortly after the other dummies decide to gang up on him.]
When: February, sometime!
Where: Various bits of the academy
What: Eleven trying really hard at things.
Class Schedule
[It's all new: the school, the uniforms, talk of classes and wildly casual displays of magic. What isn't new though, is once again being completely and utterly normal- or at least, as normal as a Sundered gets.
That feeling of other isn't new either.
But he's followed the rules, met with an adviser and expressed his interests. Now he waits like every other student for his schedule with the self-same nerves. ..Well, maybe he has a few more nerves because he's never been to school before, and by virtue of that, surrounded by scholarly sorts. But the girls at L'Academie had seemed happy to be there, so surely it can't be too bad.
When at last his schedule floats into his hands, his eyes instantly scan down the length of the sheet. Most of them are required courses due his House, but there it is- Forging. He turns a grin on the students in close proximity, suddenly eager to share schedules]
What classes are you taking?
First Class
[Eleven likens sitting in class to sitting in church. Only, rather than listening passively, they're apparently meant to be taking notes. Now, he can write his letters well enough, but many of the terms being used escape him, and the instructions quickly become too much to keep up with.
Within the first hour of instruction, his hand is already beginning to cramp and his notes feel too far behind to be of much use later. It's all he can do just to listen and try to follow the shifts in topic. By the time the professor finally asks a question and seems to expect an answer, he's practically cringing into his seat.]
..This is harder than I thought.
Sword Training
[It takes him awhile to find something suitable for it, but Eleven manages to find then drag a few straw dummies out of obscure storage to an open area to train on.
He probably should have figured they'd be able to move on their own, but he's still very surprised when one suddenly leaps to the side and his sword meets nothing but air. Past the initial shock of it however, excitement leaps in his chest and he follows up the swing with a sharp turn and very nearly hits it this time.
Eleven laughs and thrills in the challenge.
With only echoes of training to speak of, he's proficient but not terribly skilled and his form could definitely be better. It's also apparent that he's lacking something, as his left arm moves as though practiced, yet acts as little more than a counter-balance and support for two-handed strikes.
Though he fends them off for a little while, he starts to run into a bit of trouble shortly after the other dummies decide to gang up on him.]
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[She bounces on her heels, excited.]
I know, I wish there were more classes!
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Really? Your writing is really good- I wouldn't have guessed. [His fingers trace over the folds in the paper] How did you make it fly like that?
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He hands the notes back to her]
Thank you for letting me borrow these. They really helped. I hope it wasn't at your own expense.
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It was fine! Besides, I couldn't just sit there and do nothing. You looked really desperate.
[... Do they offer social skills here, because she needs them. She has no idea how insulting this sounds.]
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I was. Thank you again.. I'm sorry, what was your name?
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I'm Webby! Webbigail Vanderquack. What's your name?
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Eleven. It's nice meeting you, Webby. What house are you in, if you don't mind?
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It's so awesome.
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As long as you're safe there. But if it was a military building before then it must be well-defended.
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But I'm there, so I'll defend it!
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Are you sure you're okay? I could talk to the staff..
[He might just do that anyway. No offense to Webby, but she doesn't look like much of a soldier. He also just doesn't like the idea of the Ka students being treated unfairly]
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[She's not offended, she knows she's adorable.]
I've been trained in several forms of martial arts and weaponry. And now I get to add magic to my arsenal.
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Oh.. really? What kind of weapons?
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Bo-staff, bow and arrow, knives, swords, ninja stars... I have to wait until I'm older for explosive-related ones.
[And she has none of those with her, thank goodness.]
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[That's a lot of weapons to learn for someone he assumes is younger than he is]
..How old are you?
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You must have spent your childhood training then. ..Is your world at war?
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