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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Sept 11, 2014 18:54:30 GMT -5
James hadn’t let him go. How annoying. The glaring hadn’t even caused him to loosen his grip. What an odd, odd, odd boy. Cyrille was forced to simply stand there, doing not much more than looking awkward. Being held down by someone so much smaller than him. Tsk. How pathetic he must look. Ah, not that he was one to really care what people thought about him. If he did that much, he’d have dyed out his hair at this point.
James talked. Or rather muttered. Cyrille almost didn’t catch what he had said, but kind of wished he hadn’t. Ah, yes. It’s true. You couldn’t save her, could you? Idiot. These thoughts were surprisingly not said out loud in flawless french. They probably would have if Cyrille wasn’t beginning to calm down. Kinda. His thoughts were far from “calm” but he wasn’t as tense.
Cyrille’s expression had changed slightly. Ever so slightly. The glare was gone, mostly because he wasn’t looking at James anymore, though his face still appeared angry. His eyes appeared a bit sad. Ah... He was mentally beating himself up. Cyrille did that a lot. Probably wasn’t healthy, but man did he not care. A lot of things were his fault. He could have prevented many things. But, no. He just had to be an idiot all the time. He brought his free hand up once again to cover part of his face.
If Cyrille’s thoughts weren’t so loud and drowning, he would have replied to James’ offer much quicker. Instead, there was a long silence. James had said something about a drink. Something about taboos. Something about... stalking. Wait, was that right? That didn’t seem to make sense. Perhaps Cyrille had just misheard. Possible. He was just a bit out of it today.
What he did hear loud and clear was the question James had tacked on at the end. Simple. He was asking for verification. Now, it probably would have been wise for Cyrille to ask for him to repeat himself, but that probably wouldn’t be the best call. So instead Cyrille replied with a hesitant, ”Okay.” James was lucky. Cyrille generally wouldn’t agree to this on any circumstance. Especially because waiters tended to be female...
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Post by Deleted on Sept 11, 2014 22:08:36 GMT -5
Now that the glare was turned away from him, James was able to relax a little. The only thing he had gotten out of Cyrille was an affirmation, and while that was a little irritating he wouldn't blame the boy for it. He watched him carefully, looking for signs of an escape plan, before slowly letting him go completely. "Alright then...let's go this way," he said very carefully, moving so that they would be heading to their left. He had passed a cafe the other day, it was a little out of the way and a little slow business wise, but that sounded like the perfect thing for this really odd pair right now. Cyrille was on the verge of a mental breakdown, and possible homicidal rampage if we looked deep into James' thoughts, and James was about to burst into tears at any second. No, it was much better to go somewhere with as little people as possible.
It didn't take long to reach it, assuming there were no further problems with Cyrille. James almost sighed in relief, but refrained from doing so in fear of the tense atmosphere snapping. He ran a hand through his hair, finding an empty table outside and making a beeline for it. He didn't sit when he got there, though, and looked at Cyrille. "I'm gonna grab some drinks, so just chill here for a second." He paused, before putting on a much more serious expression. "If you're not here when I get back, I'm gonna get you." James really didn't trust him as far as he could throw him. Maybe Cyrille would wise up and accept free coffee.
James only moved after he was absolutely sure he wasn't going to lose Cyrille, turning away and walking into the cafe itself. It was then that he let his shoulders fall, and he thought his legs would follow soon. "That was scary..." he whined to himself, waving the concerned looking barista off. He hoped things got a little less awkward soon. He didn't like acting like this.
He placed his order, two simple black coffees, and paid the cute girl at the register. She tried to strike up a conversation, having noticed the tiny Lush bag hanging from his wrist, but he was too tired to keep it going for very long. He tried to be polite as he waited for her to pour the coffee and pass him the cups, though he nearly ripped them out of her hands before dashing back outside.
Cyrille was still there, thank goodness. He put on a smile before approaching the bigger male. "Here you go. That'll wake you up." He placed the cup down in front of the other, before taking the seat adjacent from him. "Ready to come back to the world of the living?" Honestly, he was starting to act like a zombie.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Sept 13, 2014 12:27:18 GMT -5
After a moment or two of silence, Cyrille felt his arm released. He rolled the shoulder to try to make it feel a bit better. Not that it helped much. The injury was in such an odd placement that there wasn’t much he could do in that regard.
Looks like the two of them were going somewhere. Hah... This might prove troublesome. Depending on where they were going, of course. Cyrille knew that running away probably wasn’t the best idea right now. He wasn’t fast, and there was no telling how fast James was. James was smaller than him anyway, so he probably ended up being just a bit faster. In any case, Cyrille didn’t want to make a scene. Though depending on where they were going meant he might end up causing one. Joy.
Didn’t take too long to get there. A cafe with no one sitting in the outdoor seats. Huh. Well, that was good at least. If Cyrille had to deal with any females right now he might just die. And then James went away to go and get some drinks. For the two of them? That was nice of him. Cyrille would have to pay him back somehow, as the boy was being just so awfully nice. And Cyrille didn’t deserve any of the kind treatment.
Cyrille sat down in one of the two chairs at the table. He was absentmindedly wringing his hands, trying to think over what to do or say next. Probably apologize. But the wording was important. If Cyrille was too descriptive he’d end up being asked so many hard-to-dodge questions. Gah, thoughts about such things should probably should be avoided in general. No crying in public. Ophelie had gotten mad at him whenever he did that once upon a time.
There wasn’t enough time to think up all of the possible things to say and the outcome of Cyrille actually saying that, though, for James returned in due time. A coffee. To be honest, Cyrille hated coffee. Tea was just so much better. Coffee was always way too bitter or way too sweet. Plus there was far too much taste to it to drink in the morning. The drink was like ringing a bell in someone’s face to try to get them to wake up. Not pleasant at all.
In any case, James had bought this drink for Cyrille. He would attempt to show no signs of disdain. So, Cyrille took a hesitant sip of the coffee. He said nothing, mostly because he was trying to figure out what James had meant by his last remark. Did Cyrille look tired or something? Perhaps he looked drained, as he did feel that way.
After a few more moments of this silence, Cyrille felt now was the time for him to speak up. He had been avoiding eye contact, and continued to do this. Looking at James directly in the eye would hurt too much. ”Apologies for that.” He said, simply.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2014 12:31:04 GMT -5
This one was weird. Just when James thought he had a personality pegged, Cyrille went and did something different. It was unnerving; he couldn't find a proper way to act if he couldn't figure out how the other would react. Though, he didn't know why he still cared; they had already been through something pretty rocky and tense, and there really wasn't much recovering James could do after his behavior. He couldn't say he regretted it yet, but he was starting to wonder if he had done the right thing. Cyrille was probably the type who healed better when he holed up on his own, wasn't he? That was a guess, though James wasn't sure he could make any accurate guesses for this one. He also seemed like the strong and confident type, but now he couldn't even look someone as lowly as James in the eye. But not matter what, James still had a nagging feeling that he couldn't leave Cyrille alone. He wondered if he was developing some kind of hero complex; he blamed Shibusen, and its insane student body.
Things were quiet for a while, and James propped his elbow onto the table in order to rest his chin there. He kept his blue gaze on the other individual, searching for some kind of tell that would give him some kind of prophetic answer on how to deal with this situation. Cyrille was a pretty hard one to read, though. He did drink the coffee, though, but in a way that someone who wasn't used to drinking coffee would. James was too tired to wonder about that mistake; after all, he left his own coffee untouched. He actually liked coffee, though right now he wasn't really in the mood for it. It just felt weird, not buying himself a coffee too. Thankfully, just plain coffee wasn't that expensive or anything, so he could take two wasted cups.
Finally, Cyrille spoke up. He still wouldn't look at James, either from embarrassment or anger. Neither of those options really appealed to James, but he really hoped it wasn't the latter. Though the apology came off a little insincere sounding, more like an obligation, which made James think things were starting to lean towards the anger side of the spectrum.
"...don't worry about it," he finally relinquished, trying not to sound exhausted. Whether that was successful or not, he did perk up for the next few lines, even managing a weak smile. "I said something weird. Sorry about it. I won't do it again, I swear." He wasn't entire sure what he said wrong, but something wrong was said. He couldn't just ignore that, in the end, he had caused Cyrille to feel this way. He leaned forward a little bit, trying to catch Cyrille's eyes. "I really am sorry, Cyrille. What can I do to make up for it?" He'd done a lot wrong; first he said the thing, whatever it was, then he was forceful and tried to shove himself into it. Now he was making him drink coffee and talk about his feelings. Any way you look at it, this wasn't how an afternoon with two guys was supposed to end. Not two complete strangers, anyway. But James couldn't really remember ever talking to anyone about this sort of thing.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Sept 14, 2014 17:03:34 GMT -5
Silence. James didn’t reply to Cyrille’s apology right away. Just long enough for Cyrille to ponder the possibility of not being forgiven. Was he really so easy to hate? Actually, perhaps that was a question easier left unanswered. Cyrille could think of a lot of answers to it he didn’t really want to hear. Probably what James thought too. Name his idiocy for reason number one.
But then James did speak. “Don’t worry about it.” Easier said than done. James then went on to apologize. That was funny. He was apologizing for saying something wrong? But, Cyrille was certain that he was the one who had said the stupid thing. It was a habit. Be too descriptive and people would question said descriptions. Unfortunately, Cyrille often didn’t realize this until it was too late. The english language was tricky. Surely this would not be such a problem if Cyrille could just speak his native language.
Cyrille shifted his eyes to actually be looking at James. The tense atmosphere had yet to clear, but at the very least neither seemed to have any harsh feelings towards the other. James even apologized again. Then he asked if there was anything he could do for Cyrille. Come again? Wasn’t Cyrille the one in debt? Hm.
”No, I’m fine. I believe I’m the one in your debt, anyway.” He said, firmly. Not much emotion in Cyrille’s voice, his Grigori soul now having dealt with getting rid of most of the internal madness. Cyrille was so very grateful for that ability, even if it didn’t do much else. He then put his elbows on the table and rested his mouth behind his hands. ”I’d offer you something to make up for this, but I don’t believe I have any skills that you’d find use of.”
Wait. James was a meister, no? Perhaps he could give him some pointers in combat, depending on what kind of weapon he was partnered to. Erm, no. He didn’t have a partner, right? Gah. Of course the one thing Cyrille could offer wouldn’t work out! Cyrille’s eyes quickly flitted to the side for a moment, then he looked at James again and spoke up. ”Unless you want combat pointers or something. I can do that.”
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Post by Deleted on Sept 20, 2014 18:12:34 GMT -5
It was easier to relax once Cyrille was actually looking at him again. Things were starting to patch up again, albeit slowly. James didn't mind that one little bit, so long as a reconciliation was made. His smile seemed to get stronger, almost stretching into a grin--like he was trying not to laugh at a particularly bad joke. They were both pretty beaten up about this situation, it seemed. James was almost tempted to remind Cyrille that he had saved him, after all. James probably would have been dead otherwise. And while that may or may not help the situation, it was an error James would rather forget about for now. And his selfishness over trying to forget it won out over a chance at making Cyrille feel better about himself.
He lifted his hand and waved the whole matter off, though he didn't move from his resting position. He actually felt like he'd fall asleep if left alone long enough. "It's really not a big deal...you don't owe me anything." If anything, they were even now. Though, embarrassingly enough he found a few very cheesy things pop into his head. Things like friendship and the like. He quickly smashed those thoughts, even going so far as to bury his face in his arm in an attempt to hide his flushed cheeks.
That didn't last long, though. He popped right back up at the mention of combat training. James didn't have any of that. And a little training might make him seem a little less useless. Maybe he'd find a partner faster if he wasn't so useless. "That would actually be really awesome," he answered almost way too quickly. He ran his hand through his hair, straightening his back and looking a little embarrassed. "I don't have any experience with fighting...it'd be nice to have a little help." He sobered up a little and held his hands up, an almost defensive gesture. "But not because you owe me anything. But if you happen to have some free time, I'd really appreciate it."
He wasn't sure how they made it this far. His dad told him once that you met everyone for a reason; they were either a blessing or a lesson. This experience was turning out to be a little bit of both, he was starting to find.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Sept 20, 2014 22:43:52 GMT -5
Even though James was trying his very best to smile and look happy, Cyrille did not do the same. Cyrille was... bad at emotion. He had wiped most of the emotion from his face now, save for the occasional glance being shifted away. He kept most of his emotion inside. This was probably a bad plan in the long run, but Cyrille didn’t particularly care. Not anymore, at least.
Once again James brushed off Cyrille. Saying he owed him nothing. Surely that was a lie and James knew it. Cyrille rarely lied, but knew that most people didn’t have as many hang ups about it as him. Surely James was simply lying! Yes, yes. The way he had hid his face like that proved it. Well, Cyrille could be rather persistent. He’d pay off his debt to James somehow...
That “somehow” turned out to be easier to determine than Cyrille could have ever hoped. So James did want combat experience after all! Excellent. Cyrille knew how to wield a weapon or two. Honestly he’d probably be a terrible teacher, but he’d have to try. Worst case scenario he’d owe James something else for wasting his time. ”Alright.” Cyrille said simply, cracking a slight smile.
James didn’t have a partner yet, though. So that whole training ordeal couldn’t happen yet. Or, maybe. General tips could possibly suffice. Cyrille should probably just ask... ”Uhm, is there anything specific you’d be interested in? I mean, I know you don’t have a partner yet, but...”
Cyrille wasn’t really sure what to say beyond that. He put his hands in front of him and wrung them again. This whole exchange had ended up being rather awkward. Not something that had really been on the boy’s plans for today, but whatever. Cyrille should probably talk to people more anyway. He needed an excuse to. A friend or whatever might be nice.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 21, 2014 22:17:31 GMT -5
There it was! It was small, and so very slight, but there was an upturn of the lips there. James could have laughed, a victorious sound, though he held it back. It'd probably only force Cyrille away if he did that. But it felt good, to finally have done something right. He didn't know what he did, or said, but he finally got Cyrille to smile. He felt like he deserved some kind of reward. Well, maybe combat training was his reward for all of this. Honestly, he was just happy that Cyrille didn't hate him and wanted nothing to do with him.
...or maybe he did hate him and was using this as a ruse so that later he could beat him up? Extremely possible, because James was scrawny and had like zero upper arm strength and wouldn't last long in a fight against Cyrille. Now he was starting to wonder why he agreed to this. He was just signing up to get his ass kicked, it sounded like. And that wasn't something he enjoyed the thought of at all.
Though, Cyrille actually seemed a little nervous. Or something. Wringing your hands like that usually meant something on that line of thought, though there was absolutely no reason for him to feel nervous. Maybe he was just anxious to get away? That seemed more plausible, but a little more depressing for James as far as his social skills went.
What was more depressing was the fact that he was pretty much useless without a partner. He didn't have much going for him, except a pretty good kick here and there, so it made sense that he wouldn't last long without something. "What're you good at?" he replied with his own question, leaning back a little to try and pop his back. "I mean...anything's better than where I'm at right now, so just teach me what you know." Any skill is better than no skill. He didn't want to be useless on his own anymore.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Sept 22, 2014 12:19:14 GMT -5
Cyrille wrung his hands a lot. Not always because of nervousness or annoyance or anything like that, but also just to give his hands something to do. Cyrille could have never even fathomed the idea of James thinking he was nervous because of it. Whoops. Cyrille wasn’t really good at body language. Not that he was good at anything social. That had always been Ophelie’s job. She had a way with words.
Speaking of what Cyrille was not so good at, James then proceeded to ask him what he was actually good at. Cyrille didn’t lie, and now would be no exception to that rule. If James was expecting modesty, might want to try someone else. There was no such thing as a “modest” Lécuyer. ”Most things, combat wise.” He replied almost immediately. The next words required a bit more thought, so there was a slight pause before the boy spoke again. ”Specifically swords, but I could give you pointers when it comes to any weapon, really. Except maybe guns...”
Despite being partnered to a demon mini gun, Cyrille wasn’t very good with the sort. Not bad, but hell if he knew how to describe combat with one. The only thing he could really say to someone who knew nothing about guns was to mind the recoil. Funnily enough, Cyrille had never imagined partnering with such a weapon. He had tried to practise with every weapon, just not guns. Without thinking, Cyrille brought this up. Gah, how he had a terrible habit of not thinking his words over.
”If you’re wondering why... I learned how to use most of the more common weapons over the last four years after my part-”
Fortunately for James, Cyrille had calmed down. Like a lot. Getting all tongue tied wouldn’t make him run away again. Unless James brought it up or something. Which was rather likely with the way Cyrille had cut himself off. Idiot. Why did he always have to do this kind of thing? If Cyrille wasn’t with company, he’d probably bash his head into the table to try to put some sense into that damn head of his. After a rather long pause and a deep breath, Cyrille spoke up again. Eye contact faltering. ”Nevermind that.”
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Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2014 14:37:44 GMT -5
So Cyrille was a fairly well-rounded individual--that was good. It meant that James could literally learn just about anything he wanted, besides guns as Cyrille had mentioned. Guns weren't a problem, though. James knew how to work those, at least. He had been given very basic instructions on how to use one, and he had never actually shot one off at anything, but at least he sort of knew his way around a small firearm. It just happened to work out really well, with him knowing how to use the only thing Cyrille couldn't teach him about. He didn't mention that fact, though, because he really wasn't confident enough to offer training in that form of weaponry.
James was starting to fall under the impression that Cyrille was secretly a very talkative person, but just didn't want to be. It was really the only way he could explain this second slip up, and the in case you were wondering. (Because, honestly, James really hadn't been wondering about it at all.) Or maybe the boy just really needed to get it off his chest, but didn't have anyone to do that with. Whatever it was, James knew better than to press for more. He just nodded, giving him an "It's forgotten, and an encouraging smile. It was more to ease Cyrille, though, because it wasn't forgotten at all. In fact, it was only added to the pile of puzzle pieces. A few were starting to fit together, though, and James could figure out a few theories on his own. He wasn't dumb enough to make the same mistake twice, or not twice in a row anyway, and kept him mouth shut on anything else relating to the matter.
And despite his lack of social graces of any kind, James was able to elegantly move on to the next matter of business without any further ado. "Do you know any self defense? I'd really like to pick some of that up. Oh, and if it's not too much trouble can I get some basic training on a few weapons?" Preparing for whatever his partner may end up as. Though he might skip out on the swords--goodness knows he'd probably stab himself or something.
He felt a little embarrassed, asking for so much. He sat back in his chair, looking down a little sheepishly, and murmured an apology. "Thanks for the help...I really, really need it..."
The first step to becoming better was acknowledging that you had a long way to go. But he was actually kind of excited about training, forgetting the idea that this was just a cover up to beat him senseless or something of that sort.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Sept 27, 2014 7:30:32 GMT -5
James was absolutely correct with his second assumption. Cyrille had always been quiet. Always. Sure, he talked more to his friends. Said “friends” consisted of only his sister. Perhaps it was a mixture of Cyrille lightening up around James and that second assumption. Yes, Cyrille wanted desperately to tell someone about what had happened all those years ago. But, he couldn’t. Cyrille didn’t know anyone that would care to listen. That wouldn’t backstab him with the information later. Or think him weak and inept. Sure, he might have been projecting a bit, but that’s what the boy believed. He refused to speak of the topics his mind constantly wandered to. But because his mind constantly wandered to them he got all tongue tied. So very worrisome.
Thankfully, Cyrille had saved the life of someone who was actually a nice guy. James didn’t pry at what he had said. In fact, he dropped the topic entirely. Cyrille shifted his attention back to James. He didn’t bother to reply to the whole forgotten statement, but he was tempted to let out a quiet “thank you”. This kid was growing on the french boy. He was nice. Cyrille liked nice people.
In any case, Cyrille would bite his tongue a bit more. He could answer most things with yes or nos, like he normally did. Perhaps with a comment here and there. Easy enough. James probably didn’t want to hear him talk non-stop anyways...
Self defense? Yes, Cyrille did know some of that. Not formally, but it kinda came with the standardized combat training. That being said, the one time it could have come in useful he cracked under pressure... So perhaps he wasn’t the best person to learn such techniques from. James wanted basic training on a few weapons too. Those could probably go hand in hand easily enough. Cyrille didn’t mind, anyway. He liked practising with weapons, but practising alone proved to be growing pointless. Cyrille hadn’t mastered the sword, far from it, but he couldn’t teach himself anything more. Not that his abilities to use swords mattered anymore.
”Yes, I can do both.” Cyrille said, simply. He’d get into the specifics of each when the time actually came. Heck, the guy might be partnered when they actually got around to doing that. Not that that meant experience with all weapons wasn’t a good idea. No rule that said you would have that partner for forever. Cyrille had learned that the hard way.
Next came an apology. Cyrille was quick to dismiss it. ”It’s really no trouble.” He said. A slight smile tugged at his lips again. All this niceness was starting to get to him. Now they just needed to decide when this nonsense would happen. ”I’m in the dojo most of the time when classes aren’t in session, so if you ever see me there, just ask.”
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Post by Deleted on Sept 29, 2014 23:59:36 GMT -5
James swore he was beaming, which was surely a disgusting expression but he couldn't help it one little bit. The person sitting before him really was amazing: he'd saved his life in more ways than one today. James felt filled with something, probably hope or some other lame thing like that, and he couldn't ever think of a time where he had felt this happy before. Things were going to change, and he was excited about that. He had an ally now, and that was even more exciting. The fact that he was excited about both of those things was a huge indicator of how much he had changed already, and he knew things only went up from here. He would probably have time for self-doubt and fear later, but for now he felt invincible.
He nodded emphatically, finally reaching out to take a sip of his coffee and cringing a little as the now lukewarm liquid hit his tongue. "Y-yes..." a bit of a stumble, do to the shock from his beverage, "Yeah, I'll definitely be there." He wanted to start right away. But he couldn't say that, because Cyrille would, once again, think he was weird. And James would rather this...friendship? He was just going to go ahead and think of it as a friendship. And he wanted this friendship to go well. They hit a rough patch before, but James was sure that such a thing wouldn't happen again. He learned from mistakes, if nothing else.
There was a buzzing emanating from his pocket, and he had a feeling he knew who it was before he even checked the device. He didn't move to touch it, though, and instead looked back at Cyrille. "Thanks again. I have to go now...that's definitely my sister, and she'll just keep calling until I pick up." He stood up from his chair, reaching up and pushing some hair behind his ear. His smile stayed firmly in place as he gave a little wave with that same hand. "It was really nice meeting you!" And after waiting for the proper goodbye and permission to leave, he turned around and made his way back to where he hoped the dorms were. It didn't feel like much of a chore, though; he kind of felt like he was floating. And even the nagging coming from the phone at his ear couldn't bring his mood down.
This was, without a doubt, the beginning of something wonderful. He could just feel it.
[um the end? idk]
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