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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2015 23:33:08 GMT -5
He finally had Cyrille’s attention again, and things seemed to be looking better. But they only thing he could say was “I’m n-not crying!” It came out more because of habit, not because he actually thought Cyrille would believe him. Thankfully, Cyrille didn’t even really care that much anyway, so James was able to look away and try and compose himself.
Besides, Cyrille would literally kill him if he knew that he was crying because he felt so bad for him. Nothing had been said about what Cyrille was feeling or what he had been through. James just made a bunch of assumptions and worked himself into a fit and before he knew it he was bawling. And there really was no way of saving himself in this situation, because he could either tell the truth or have Cyrille think he was some wimp who got scared. So in the end, Cyrille’s apathy on the matter was welcomed.
So with one more rather harsh rub against his eyes, James was able to calm himself down. It was so silly, really. Cyrille should have been the one crying, though James didn’t think he could even imagine that.
Though, Cyrille did have his own, less healthy ways of dealing with things. Like running away without any explanation. James was starting to see a trend, and though he had been passive about it last time he needed to sort things out. “Wait just a second!” he protested, voice finally coming out just as stable as he wanted it to. His ascent was a little less graceful, and he stumbled a little when getting back to his feet. But he was able to gather himself quickly and move so that he was back in Cyrille’s sight.
“When something’s wrong, you have to tell someone,” he said, very carefully. As far as he knew, Cyrille was a time bomb. He couldn’t just blurt out his feelings, like he really wanted to. I deserve an explanation this is the second time in a row damn it was not what needed to be said. He took a deep breath and tried to smile, mostly so it sounded more like he was trying to help and less like he was scolding the much bigger male. “Or things will just get worse, you know?”
The next thought was a bit of a leap, considering James had no clue how Cyrille felt about him—in fact, he was pretty sure Cyrille hated him. But he pressed on nonetheless. “And that’s what friends are for, right?”
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Apr 7, 2015 19:35:48 GMT -5
Cyrille did not understand why James had decided to lie so poorly. Well, he didn’t understand lying in general honestly. What was the point? You’d always be found out eventually, but lying about something that was so easy to tell was false was just... ugh, people were so odd. Regardless, he wasn’t just about to argue with a Shibusen student about how they were most definitely crying.
Fortunately for James, Cyrille had yet to actually move from where he stood at all. His legs felt a little weaker than normal. He didn’t want to trip. Furthermore, he felt a little bit light headed and disoriented. He didn’t need help standing, but walking might be a different story. He didn’t know yet.
So, waiting a second wouldn’t really be hard for Cyrille. He had expected James to stop him. People loved to not let him just go away for some odd reason. Why? He had no freaking clue. The reasoning didn’t really matter anyway. Cyrille hated it when people made up some silly excuse for their behaviour. Then again, he wasn’t really one to talk.
<<Oh, you’re one of those.>> Cyrille muttered to himself. He hadn’t even realized he was talking out loud until he had, but at least he had spoken in a language James did not speak. He was quite certain of that. His words hadn’t been all that rude either. One could argue James was just as rude.
Cyrille would have been looking at James with a very contempt filled gaze, if not for the fact that he felt soooo freaking embarrassed and sorry. Instead, he let his eyes drifted down to the floor just a bit. But, really now. “When something’s bad you’ve gotten tell someone”! Who the hell had actually decided that worked?! It didn’t. At all. You had to be delusional to believe in such voodoo.
It was interesting, though. For James to call Cyrille a friend. ‘Cos, he wasn’t good at making friends. Never had been. Even before stuff and things happened, he had always been too much of a shut in to make friends. Too focused on his studies and all that. The thought of having a friend was... funny. Cyrille didn’t deserve friends.
”Well, I’m not going to dispel my life story in a dojo.” He said, trying to stop his voice from sounding so raspy and shaky. ”I’m going back to my dorm. You may come if you want.”
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Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2015 20:14:26 GMT -5
There really was no point in trying to make sense of the French utterance. James couldn't even begin to translate it, even if he wanted to. And a huge part of him really didn't even want to know, because it was more than likely an insult. He didn't know that for sure, of course, but he couldn't imagine Cyrille saying anything nice about him at all really. In English or in French.
James was perfectly aware that he had gotten himself into this mess, but he found himself regretting his small act of heroism. Cyrille didn't really need to talk this out with a friend, if that was even what they were; he needed a damn therapist.
But if he left Cyrille alone now, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to sleep that night because of worry. So that was why he was a tiny bit relieved that Cyrille hadn't out-right rejected him. It was tossed in at the end, but an invitation was still present. James wondered if maybe Cyrille was the cold-on-the-outside-but-mushy-on-the-inside type of person.
...but that didn't seem very likely.
In fact, that idea was just ridiculous. James felt embarrassed just having thought it.
But they were getting somewhere, and that was what mattered. James didn't know how much he'd learn, but Cyrille was willing to divulge something. And hopefully that something would at least keep situations like today from happening again. Though, James had a feeling he didn't have that sort of luck.
"...okay." He swallowed, a little nervous. He had worked up enough courage to blurt out all that other crap earlier, but now it was gone and he just wanted to hide again. Because who said Cyrille wouldn't beat the shit out of him once they got back to the dorms? There wasn't a guarantee that he wouldn't, and that's what frightened James. But he wasn't going to back out now. "I'll come."
And from there, he would just wait for Cyrille to lead the way.
Or tell him that the invitation had just been a pleasantry and that he didn't really want the other coming to his room.
James wasn't sure which result he wanted.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Apr 8, 2015 16:54:24 GMT -5
Cyrille wasn’t quite sure if he really wanted someone other than him to be inside of his dorm room. It was the only place at Shibusen he felt particularly safe at. Now that he had actually thought that, Cyrille realized what a silly notion it was. Shibusen had a ton of people who could easily defeat anything that might come their way. He should feel safe enough. It sure beat living in the cheapest part of town.
No backing out now, though. James had agreed to accompany Cyrille. Well, that was just lovely. It was okay. It didn’t mean Cyrille would have to talk about stuff he didn’t want to talk about. Maybe they’d just talk about the weather. Today was lovely. Probably. He hadn’t gone outside yet today.
The response James got was not much more than a nod. Perhaps he wouldn’t follow. Cyrille didn’t care. He was going back to his room regardless of circumstance.
---
The walk back to Cyrille’s room wasn’t that long of one. The residential places where partners generally lived was farther, but Cyrille didn’t live there. He had grown accustomed to living in not much more than a small room, so he didn’t really mind. The close distance to the school was really nice. It meant he didn’t have to spend most of his time in the day going to and from one place.
”This is it.” Cyrille said, as he unlocked and opened the door. ”Apologies for the mess...”
There was no mess.
Nothing in the room could even be described as a bit “messy”. Cyrille’s room was awfully neat. The bed was made, the floor was clean... At most, there were a few books on the table in the centre of the room, as well as a wrapped box. All of the books seemed to be about the same subject; that being souls.
Cyrille knew that there wasn’t much of a mess, but it was formal to apologize for that. Right? That’s what his mother had always done, and their house had always been pretty tidy. Cyrille didn’t really know the basics of house manners. He hadn’t had a guest in a place that he could say “was his” before. Actually hadn’t had a guest for a long time in general.
”Would you like something to drink...?” That was either more trying-to-be-well-mannered, or simply delaying the inevitable.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2015 0:28:42 GMT -5
In all actuality, getting back to Cyrille's room didn't take much time. But neither of them had said a word, so the walk felt much longer than it actually was. And there was just enough time for James to come up with eight different ways Cyrille could kill him, along with two really good excuses for him to slink back off to his dorm. But he didn't use either of those excuses, and he couldn't bring himself to sneak away. So he could do nothing but helplessly follow the taller male and hope he survived the day.
He didn't actually know what he was preparing himself for, but James was prepared for the worst when Cyrille opened his door and showed him in. What greeted him was a simple room that oddly suited the French meister. James visibly relaxed, a loose smile forming on his face and a tiny little snort pushed its way into the open. "I don't think you'd know a mess if it hit you in the face," he muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets and snickering to himself. He knew messes. He shared a bathroom with five little sisters; there was just no coming back from a horror like that. The sight of it would probably give Cyrille a heart attack, if he thought this was a mess.
And funnily enough, James couldn't even remember what he was so scared of.
Well, if he thought about it too much he was pretty sure he'd remember. But he'd rather not go back into a state of panic. Not yet, anyway.
Cyrille offered a drink, and James couldn't really imagine himself accepting it. Putting aside the little idea that popped up in his mind about Cyrille poisoning him or something, it was kind of rude to just take something from a student. He didn't know how wealthy Cyrille was, but most students struggled with funds. So James didn't want to take any of the little things Cyrille most definitely had bought for himself. "I'm good, thanks."
He wasn't really sure what to do next. He just kind of stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for Cyrille to either tell him to leave or start talking again.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Apr 11, 2015 21:18:05 GMT -5
Well, it seemed as though Cyrille had, unintentionally, lightened up the mood quite a bit. He would have commented on only saying that because he thought that was what you were supposed to do, but decided against it. He did know what a mess was like... He did spend a significant amount of his holiday break cleaning up after his father. Though he couldn’t blame the guy for... losing himself, he could at least take care of himself a bit better. Now that Cyrille was gone he couldn’t exactly monitor him.
Bringing up an alcoholic father would probably not help with lightning up the mood. Plus it wasn’t like Cyrille wanted to talk about it anyway, so that was all kept to his head. Nothing out of the ordinary, he kept most things in just his head anyway. He was quite good at that by now.
James had declined the drink. Okay, that wasn’t surprising. But, it was the last formality Cyrille could really think of. So, he had no idea how to continue with wasting time. Then again, it was probably for the best. What kind of drink would he even give James? Didn’t most people around his age prefer soft drinks to tea in this country? Well, in his own country to an extent too, most likely. Not him, though. And Ophelie liked cocoa the best.
”Well, uh, please take a seat then.” Cyrille said, as he closed the door. Didn’t lock it. James could make a run for it if he felt so inclined. His voice was still just a bit shaky. He couldn’t get it to sound natural, no matter how hard he tried. It just sounded worse and worse the more he focused on it. Not a big deal, as it would be odd for James to not know that Cyrille was still a bit shaken.
There were two seats at the table. That was the way the dorm had come when Cyrille had moved in. He didn’t know why there was two chairs, as the dorm was clearly only made for one person to be in it. Not even guests should be in it, really. Oh well, what did he know? Didn’t matter to him. It was coming in handy right now. Cyrille took the seat farthest from the door.
And then that was when Cyrille realized he had absolutely no idea of what he should say. He’d talk if James were to egg him on, he supposed. Cyrille, for whatever reason, liked James. That was probably because the fellow student didn’t hate him. Or at least, Cyrille assumed he didn’t hate him. He probably did. Most people seemed to hate Cyrille, which was perfectly understandable.
A silence seemed to fall over the room. Cyrille wasn’t sure what to do next, and so felt his eyes falling onto the pile of books that were on the table. None of them were proving all that useful. He just ended up stressing himself out a bit more.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2015 14:42:44 GMT -5
Thankful for instruction, James hurried over to the chair and sat down. He felt much more comfortable sitting, maybe because the height difference wasn't quite as noticeable when they werBlue eyee both sitting. A height like Cyrille's was rather intimidating, but they were on more equal grounds now. And that was enough to make James smile, because this would probably be the only time they were ever equal.
A lull fell between them, and James was a little unsure of what to do now that they were both sitting. He knew what he wanted, of course; he wanted to hear about what was triggering Cyrille every time they met, so that maybe he could stop causing these anxiety attacks. (Hopefully there was something he could actually do about it; he would like to try and stay friends with this one.) But he knew sharing something so personal was difficult, so he wasn't going to push for it. And it kind of wasn't fair, just opening yourself up when you didn't know much about the other person. But James didn't really have any deep, dark secret that he was hiding. His life was actually pretty boring, not to mention Cyrille probably didn't care anything about him or his exceedingly average life.
But he had to talk about something. And friends were supposed to get to know each other, or so he thought. He hadn't had very many of those in the first place.
Blue eyes danced around the room and landed on the books, and another tiny laugh left him. "I thought I was the only one who had to study a lot, you know?" he commented lightly. "My mom is a Meister, too, but she didn't say a word about it until a few years ago. And even since then, she hasn't told me much. So I spent so much time in the library, trying to figure myself out." He didn't look at Cyrille as he talked, because he was actually a little embarrassed now. He wasn't really looking at anything, really. He looked a little sheepish, and reached up to push some of his hair behind his ear. "It's really weird, but I'm glad other people had to study too. Makes me feel like I've got a chance."
He hummed a little in thought, now that he was pondering over his family. "Now that I'm thinking about it, I wonder if any of my sisters will end up as Meisters too...I don't really know how it works. But I'm sure mom will actually explain things to them; dunno why she has to make my life so difficult." He hadn't really meant to say any of that, but it kind of just tumbled out of his mouth. He flinched a little when he realized what he said, and gave Cyrille an apologetic look. This meeting wasn't so he could ramble about himself.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Apr 12, 2015 19:04:02 GMT -5
Cyrille had grown awfully accustomed to long, awkward silences over the years. Whenever he was alone with someone he didn’t know well, really. And even if he did know the person he was with, they had to be pretty darn good at holding a conversation by themselves. Cyrille didn’t talk much. When he did, he had a tendency to either ramble or say not much more than a few words. Usually it was the latter because he hated rambling, especially in foreign languages.
It was to be assumed that James was not the type to talk for forever, so holding a conversation would be difficult.
Or, perhaps he was. After some time had passed, James had spoken up again. It was about himself, so Cyrille guessed he must have been trying to get a natural conversation flowing. That’d make it easier for Cyrille to dispel information he’d rather not... That being said, maybe James had been right. He probably shouldn’t keep things to himself anyway. Cyrille knew that. He had had bad days before his life went completely garbage, and knew that talking about it made him feel better. He just wasn’t sure if it would in this case. He also wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out.
James talked about how his mother was a meister like he was. Nothing out of the ordinary. Meister souls were genetically passed down more often than not. Same went for weapons. Cyrille wasn’t even sure how else meister/weapon souls would be obtained. Like he knew how demon weapons were originally created, but... Eck. He needed to stop letting his mind wander like this.
Cyrille was intrigued by what James was speaking about. His expression had softened considerably. Why would a meister not share information with another meister? Didn’t that ruin the whole concept? It was like a family trade, but passed down like genetics. That’s what Cyrille thought, at least. After all, his mother’s family had had at least one demon weapon go to Shibusen for generations. ...Which, now that he thought about it, was a tradition that was most likely broken now. Cyrille’s father’s side, as in the meister side that he more fit into, was different. His father was the first one of that family to attend Shibusen.
But then all of that intrigue kinda vanished. Didn’t help that Cyrille was already thinking about it. Really didn’t help that James had decided to mention something about his sisters. He had sisters? Cyrille wasn’t sure if he had never been told that before or if he had simply forgotten. It could be either, as the detail was insignificant. He normally didn’t care to hear people had siblings... because ya’know almost everyone did. But because of how his mind decided to think about that right now made him feel just a tinge jealous. Was it jealousy? Who knows...
Fortunately Cyrille managed to ignore that part, though he still looked tense and a bit uncomfortable. He spoke, also not making eye contact. ”I have been trained in combat since I was young. The research is to strengthen my grigori soul.”
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Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2015 19:11:59 GMT -5
James hadn't really meant to imply that the research was for combat training; he was well aware of how versed Cyrille was in the topic. Cyrille was extremely skilled, from what he knew anyway. Which probably explained why he didn't really work out as a teacher. But there was still something about souls that the other boy didn't understand, and that was enough comfort for Jamie. Not that he'd make that elaboration or anything, because even though Cyrille had to do some research on this special soul, James still didn't really know what it was either. He really wanted to see it, but he couldn't really relax himself enough to get a glimpse at the other's soul.
Cyrille probably wouldn't appreciate that anyway.
He wondered if he'd be made fun of if he asked about this grigori soul. Was this something he was supposed to know about? Was it important? He was going to assume it was a rarer thing, since even Cyrille had to look up information on it. Though that assumption would be kept to himself for now, on the off chance he was wrong. (Which was honestly more likely than him being correct.)
But it would be a good thing, learning more about souls. Since he can see them anyway. He had been so concerned on fighting skills that he didn't really think about strengthening and mastering his Soul Perception. That would have to be something he worked on next, and he could start by learning a little more. Even if Cyrille did that subtle-make-fun-of-him thing. (As he wasn't really the type to do it out loud.) It was worth the blow to the self-esteem, just this once.
The corner of his mouth twisted wryly at that idea. When did he sink so low as to think something like that? Oh well, it didn't matter. What mattered was education.
...or Cyrille talking about whatever he needed to. James had almost forgotten that this was the original reason why he came here. Not that he was really sure if Cyrille would tell him anything. But at least he was talking a little about himself, and that was a good step one.
"Grigori soul?" James repeated, waiting for Cyrille to explain.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Apr 19, 2015 21:28:25 GMT -5
Fortunately for James, Cyrille had not expected him to know such terminology. He was quite sure that most things he knew that still confused him a bit weren’t known at all by most people. After all, the only reason he knew of his grigori soul was because his father had used soul perception on him. And he only knew what it was because of the wings. Beyond that... his father was mostly stumped. Research was sparse everywhere but Shibusen too.
Even so, Cyrille wasn’t quite sure he wanted to explain what it was. It was a bit personal. Not the terminology, but simply saying what it was used for was sure to explain a lot. Why he could snap to and from mental states so quickly. Even so, it’d be more difficult for him to just say “don’t worry about it” and then be locked into an awkward silence.
So, after a pause, Cyrille spoke up. ”It’s a rare meister soul.” He said, his eyes drifting again to the books on the table. He decided to grab one of the ones that had not proved useful at all, basic information told in classes or easily found on the internet, and flipped around until he found the page. It was a visual that showed a blue soul with angel wings. Basic stuff, only difference between that and his was the appearance of the wings and the colour of the soul. That information wasn’t really relevant. He decided to turn the book for James to see.
”It repels madness. Be that internal or external.” That should be enough explanation, right? Internal was... kinda self explanatory. External meant kishins and madness wavelengths. Surely James would get that much. If not... he probably should be in One Star, heh.
Or maybe not. That wasn’t really fair, was it? Perhaps Cyrille should elaborate. He didn’t want James to be confused. Cyrille hated the feeling of confusion. Not knowing everything. It drove him crazy. ”And by external I mean kishin and their wavelengths...” He begun, a bit hesitant to explain the internal. How should he go about it exactly? Well, he knew. He knew exactly how. He just didn’t want to...
”As for internal... that’s insanity.” Once again averting his eyes. Jeez, Cyrille. How pathetic you were. This was such basic information, and you could barely bring yourself to say it! Gah. Why was this so hard anyway? Cyrille wasn’t even sure... Hmpft. He was just being stupid like always.
Perhaps he should explain more. Then James wouldn’t need to ask for further information on the subject. That’d be easiest in the long run. ”It only works periodically as well. To my experience, it begins to work at random times. I’m trying to figure out how to make the effect permanent.”
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2015 19:27:50 GMT -5
A rare meister soul, huh? James didn't really know how to respond to that. He wondered how one got a rare meister soul; he didn't even know there were different kinds of souls before now. Well, not in that sense. He didn't know there were rare souls. It made sense now that it had been brought to his attention, but it was still something he wanted to think more and learn more about. Like, was this grigori soul some kind of family thing? Probably not, since it was so rare. He wondered if anyone besides Cyrille had one. Probably, right?
He wasn't going to pretend he knew anything about it, though he did nod in understanding when Cyrille described what it actually did. It repelled madness, easy enough. That must have made Cyrille really useful on missions, since madness couldn't get to him. Though, James wasn't sure if he liked that internal business; it just confirmed that something was wrong. And maybe Cyrille said it on purpose? In an attempt to subtly try and tell him?
James didn't really want to break this somewhat steady flow of talk, so he didn't say anything as Cyrille went into a deeper explanation, even though he didn't really need the explanation because he knew what internal and external meant. There was a falter on the word insanity, and James immediately locked on to it and stored it away in his memory.
Once the explanation was finished, James hummed in thought. "I wonder how you strengthen a soul...?" he muttered, mostly to himself. You couldn't just work out or something. At least, he didn't think you could.
"It repels madness, though, right? So those random times would be during the an-" he cut himself off, looking a little surprised at what he was in the middle of saying. He had been trying to think of a way to help, and he ended up voicing his feelings out loud. He was going to say during the anxiety attacks, but he wasn't really sure how Cyrille would respond to that one. He didn't really know how to save himself from that one, though goodness knows he tried. "Uh, anyway...you really can't see any theme for when it starts to kick in?"
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on Apr 26, 2015 19:02:31 GMT -5
Hm. Hadn’t Cyrille said how a soul is strengthened? Perhaps he not been clear. He just said that he was researching how to do so... but simply understanding it was how it was done.
Apparently.
Honestly, Cyrille wasn’t quite sure how true that was. That’s what he had been told. That’s what he intended to do. He was certain that the teachers knew more about this than him, but at the same time, he felt that was a bit too... easy? Eck. He wasn’t quite sure. Then again, his soul’s reaction times were improving, if only slightly. He hadn’t timed them before (not that he’d be physically able to anyway), so he didn’t really have a point of reference.
Cyrille didn’t bother actually saying all of this, though. James had seemed to say that to himself. Again, he wasn’t all that sure himself, so he didn’t really want to say things like he knew them as a matter-of-fact.
But then James’ next questions confused Cyrille. Not necessarily because the question itself was confusing, but because James had cut himself off. So, Cyrille couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was alluding to. No way was he going to get the word that was supposed to be said. “...during the an...”. What word started with the “an” sound that could be used in that sentence? Off the top of his head, Cyrille had no idea. He really did need to learn better English. The predicament was slightly annoying, but James probably wouldn’t notice he was annoyed. There was next to no indication that Cyrille was so.
The next question was comprehensible, at least. ”Not really.” He said in response. Cyrille seemed to be thoughtful for a second. WERE they linked in any matter? Sometimes it took seconds. Other times, it took a ton of time. It had never exceeded more than a few minutes. A half hour? Maybe. Cyrille roughly recalled a REALLY bad one that he had had before coming to Shibusen. In fact, that little panic attack was one of the reasons he hadn’t want to come to Shibusen anymore. What was the reason for that again? If he remembered correctly, it was a similar to the reason for today’s. He had been sparring with his father. The difference in how long it took him to recover between the two was probably due to how familiar he was with his soul’s wavelength then compared to now. Four or so years was a long time.
But that did mean they were probably getting better. Nothing had been that bad since he had arrived at this place. Well, that was good. Hard work payed off like it always had. Not particularly surprising. Anyway, all that probably meant that the length was determined by the cause of the madness in the first place.
”I suppose it’s due to the cause of the madness.” He repeated aloud what had just gone through his head.
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Post by Deleted on May 11, 2015 23:34:24 GMT -5
Cyrille was an odd little puzzle, and not the fun sort. He was the sort of puzzle you solved in video games, where one wrong move meant game over. The stressful ones that you had to sit and stare at for a long time before you could think of the answer. And frankly, James didn't think he'd be getting an answer to this one. Cyrille didn't even seem to have an answer, or if he did he wasn't going to be sharing.
Which was fine. James didn't need to hear his life story or anything. He didn't need to sit here and psycho-analyse the very messed up boy in front of him. All he really needed was a way to make sure this friendship runs as smooth as possible, because for some odd reason James did actually care about being friends with this person. (He couldn't think of a time where he actually wanted to be friends with someone.) But he didn't want Cyrille to have to use that Grigori soul of his every time they hung out together -- what kind of friendship would that be? A tiresome one, for both of them. And neither of them needed that extra stress.
It kind of looked like things were starting to head in the direction James wanted, though. He found a little ray of hope, and quickly latched on to it. "What normally causes the madness?" he asked. That was assuming there was a common factor. And that was also hoping that the answer wasn't "you". James might actually cry right here if that were true. (Though after today, it felt very true.) "I can't really do a lot to help you...but I can at least help you avoid those situations?" So that maybe Cryille could live life a little more at ease.
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Post by Cyrille Lécuyer on May 24, 2015 22:22:35 GMT -5
It might have been a bad idea for Cyrille to mention what he was thinking the way he did. Unfortunately, he had a habit of not thinking his words all the way through. That was partially because he spent most of the time he took to speak, which was already quite a long time, translating his thoughts and also partially because he was just a complete idiot.
At least he couldn’t be sure he was an idiot until someone made it alarmingly obvious to him.
And James did exactly that. Probably not intentionally, but he still did. Cyrille felt himself tense up just a little bit. Only a little, because honestly it wasn’t the WORST thing James could have asked. Nothing too obvious, Cyrille could probably just tip-toe around the subject if he thought hard enough about it.
So, James wanted to know what caused the madness to get bad. The reason why was obvious, given the fact he even said it. Help Cyrille avoid such circumstances. A noble plight. Cyrille wasn’t quite sure why James cared so much about him to actually do such a thing but he was eternally grateful. Too bad he wasn’t smart enough to show his gratitude in an obvious way without outright saying it, which would surely come off as insincere.
Regardless, how was he supposed to go about saying this. “Oh, I’m afraid of girls and rapiers because they killed my sister!”. Yea, no. That just sounded like he was fucking with the guy. Plus he... couldn’t say that out loud. Perhaps he should just avoid saying the reason why? Yea, that made sense. But... then again, if James questioned him about it after he might work himself up even more than now. He could just be vague. Yea... Vague. That’d be the best thing he could do, huh?
”Well,” Cyrille begun, his voice sounding like a whisper now. He noted this, and did his best to speak up when he spoke again. ”To put it simply, the major thing is that I’m afraid of women, but I suppose rapiers are no better.” There was a pause, and a soft sigh escaped Cyrille. ”I suppose there’s some other things too. But, I’d prefer not to list them. What I do know is that they all have to do with... two wo-”
Cyrille cut himself off. No, he wouldn’t describe those two as something he would also use to describe people he cared about. Cyrille had always been silly with “honour” and all that guff. Still, he stood by that. ”Two murderers.”
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