logsinthenight | Filling up the Schedule (OTA)

Entry tags:

Filling up the Schedule (OTA)

characters: Bucky/Soldat and OPEN
location: The Church, and the Armory
date/time: "Evenings" throughout the month, minus event week
content: Soldat teaches things, also catch-all
warnings: Just the usual, probably

I. Language

Every Sunday and Tuesday, starting on August 9, Soldat takes up a pew in the church and nervously helps anyone who comes by through a variety of phrases in the spirit language. Anyone who doesn't have one can get a free ocharina. Soldat can't actually play the ocharina, not properly, not with metal fingers that have no give to them, but they worked out how one should and can show people.

Their preference is teaching singing or whistling, but since not everyone can sing, well. Instruments. "What you use isn't important. Only the differences between the notes, the patterns in them," they explain, handing over an ocharina. "I'll show you the way to hold it."

They have the tablet app with recorded spirit language phrases open, to show how the language works: "Compare this phrase with the one on the tablet app. This one. What sounds the same?"

"It's okay if it's too high for you," they say later for someone trying to sing it. "Just drop it lower. Like this." They demonstrate the same set of notes, sung an octave lower. "Try it?"

And like they used to in the earliest months of weapons class, once they're done for the night, Soldat has to walk around the church several times to try and calm down before going home. That was stressful.

II. Weapons

It's something of a relief going back to simple weapons practice. There's not as much talking involved. There's not as much being stared at involved. They can set someone to practice a move and stand back, or offer themselves to practice on, or just show a move without speaking. How did they ever think this was difficult?

Because they've changed, that's how. Jesus, sometimes it's hard to see, but this month, they can see it.

So three nights a week, they're at the armory, ready with knives and a metal arm to catch strikes on, and maybe sometimes a smile.

III. Wildcard

For anything non-class-related... Want help building something, or have a question or request? Want to run into them any time during their usual routine just to chat? Hit them up here.

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So far, so good, as far as Rosinante figures. Having broken numerous ocarinas he opts for simply singing the notes and despite whatever downplaying of his own abilities he's done, he's really not bad at this. Language learning isn't something he's done much of, but he's observant by nature and by training. Pays close attention to the details, is quick to memorize and quick to learn, and he wants to get it right.

Having the class will indeed help, he decides - for it hasn't even been an issue of motivation so much as it's that there is too much to do. He's always got projects, people to check up on, things to read and learn. But he's smiling as the first class winds down. Yeah, singing in front of people is kind of dumb and silly but they've all got to do it and what's life without a bit of goofiness anyway?

As he prepares to head out, he tracks down Soldat only a few paces off and quickly catches up to them. "Hey," he calls out. "That was pretty good. Wish all the classes I'd taken when I was younger were fun like that."

They don't stop, needing to keep moving until their heart feels like it's not hammering anymore, but they do slow a little, blinking at the compliment in confusion. That is the last work Soldat would imagine anyone would apply to something they're in charge of. (Maybe Misty or Sora, but Misty and Sora are clearly biased.)

So, to make sure Rosinante isn't pulling a joke or something, they ask hesitantly, "That was fun?"

"Yeah," he says with a nod. Although he didn't exactly expect the hesitance, hearing it isn't a shock. Soldat had already mentioned this sort of thing made them nervous. Reassurance is worthwhile, then - the classes are valuable and he wants to make sure Soldat knows they're appreciated.

"I know you said you weren't looking forward to it, and being in front of people is tough, but I enjoyed it. Better than sitting in a lecture hall getting barked at by some rear admiral," he says with a smirk. "Nobody gets to sing and play music in those classes."

Soldat digests that, and looks down at their metal hand a moment, trying to remember. They come up blank. "I don't think I ever went to that kind of class. I'm glad this is better. Was it useful?" Fun is all well and good, but if Rosinante didn't feel like he learned anything, then they're still doing something wrong.

"It was!" he replies readily, smiling more broadly now. "I think it'll get more useful as I start to really pick it up, but it's helpful to have someone walk you through it. Helpful to struggle through it with other people too."

Feels a lot less like being singled out if they're all making fools of themselves trying to follow along, that's for sure.

It is helpful. Stumbling along making guesses with those few spirits one might call friends is hard, and while Daylight's help hadn't always made it less frustrating, it had still been invaluable. "Good," Soldat sighs. "I had hoped enough people would come. That everyone could kind of help each other, too."

Another thing they've learned from the weapons class: not just the teachers are able to help students. Sometimes other students have the means to help each other.

He agrees with a nod. "I'll see if I can convince more people to come to the next one." Which might not be too hard, since it's an immediately practical skill to have around here.

A frown creeps onto his face, then - not a severe one, but serious enough. "Have you met Merwen, by the way? Purple, doesn't wear clothes?" Soldat has surely seen her before based on that description.

Oh, hey, have a smile Rosinante, good distraction technique bringing up somebody else. They have in fact met Merwen, and are fairly fond of her already, as evidenced by slipping a little more Brooklyn in accent when they answer. "She's a sweetheart. Probably liable to get herself into trouble, but a sweetheart. Might have to make her some cloaks or somethin', too, or she's gonna traumatize the whole town."

Funny, every time Soldat does that. Rosinante wonders idly if they notice, but doesn't point it out. He knows enough of the reason why and mostly it makes him glad he mastered his own fake accent so long ago - to the point where now, it's pretty much his real one, the first having been abandoned in childhood like the rest of that life above the seas.

"She seems all right with everyone being traumatized. Maybe they'll get over it," he says, smiling a little again despite the initial reason for asking about her. "But I don't know how cold-tolerant she is. I remember last winter being pretty brutal. Wouldn't want her to get frostbite."

Sometimes they do, sometimes they don't; right now, it's not a thing that they're paying attention to. If the Brooklyn comes out, at the very least that means they're comfortable with whoever they're talking to. "When it gets cold, we'll make sure she's got somethin' to keep warm with." Even if "we" is just "Soldat"; they might already be planning her a good coat and some kind of footwear that won't irritate feet used to being bare. "I get the feeling her world doesn't have a lot of extreme temperatures. Lots of water, not a lot of variation, you know?"

"Must be something like that," he says with a nod. "Brought her up, though, because I think she's going to need some help. Maybe from both of us at some point. She's pretty insistent on trying to talk with the green-eyes. Seems like she's morally opposed to violence."

Which he presents with something of a tired sigh. He sympathizes, absolutely, because sure, it would be nice if every problem could be solved through conversation. But a year here has taught him that while what she wants is admirable, it might just get her killed.

"Oh, hell." Somehow, Soldat is not surprised; a little annoyed and dismayed, but not surprised. "Like. Daylight. He insisted, too, I had to go out with him that one time to try."

They shake their head. "I'll talk to her, too. If she's still determined once she knows enough of the language to try, maybe we can make a trip out of it and drag her away to safety if we have to. If I could get Daylight away, bet you and me could handle a small purple lady."

"Yeah. I'd rather have her hate us than let those things kill her."

Daylight is who he was reminded of too, naturally. Poor guy - it still hurts to think of him. He was such a central figure in town, always there to brighten everyone's day.

"She did tell me she would wait. She wants to learn more before going out to find them. I'm hoping it'll give us time to talk her out of it."

"I'll do my best." Soldat sounds a little grim. All Brooklyn is gone, again. "Possibly hearing we've tried before will help. Possibly not, though. We didn't know as much of the spirit language then. Daylight didn't."

Glancing back at the church, as if Merwen were inside (she is not), they finish, "But we'll keep her safe." They know the green-eyes have their own way of stopping them in particular... but maybe they won't use it. They don't, always. Maybe they'll respect their desire to talk. (Wishful thinking, pal. I know. Didn't used to even be able to do that.)

"Or die trying," he adds with a frown - one of those sayings that is all too literal here. At this point, though, he's going to have to retreat on his own if such a situation becomes desperate. Every death carries the risk of not returning and he can't do that to Law again. So long as he has his wits about him and is able to make his own decisions, that's what he'll have to decide.

Green-eyes make that hard, but he'll try his best.

"You haven't found any more leads on where those tracks were sighted, have you? The ones that might lead to the mines," he asks.

Yeah, Misty and Javert would be pretty pissed off if they managed to get themselves killed again. And they're not keen on maybe getting yet another voice crowding up their head, either. (Hey. You'd be happier without the Bottomless Pit, too.)

They shake their head a little. "There's traces of what could have been tracks coming from the docks. But I haven't followed them very far yet. Didn't want to go alone."

"Right. I haven't turned up anything else either, so I guess that's as good a place as any to start. Law and I will come along. We'll just have to see what we can find."

Finally, now. Months too late, perhaps, but it has been one thing after another since the flood. At least they might still be able to find some trace of what happened to them - or if not, then at least they'll have some clue as to where the tracks go, which could itself be useful.

"Good. Just let me know when you're both ready," Soldat nods. Having both of them along will be great-- they're sure that between the three of them, they can manage to not die. Especially given Law's whole teleporting thing.

They smile a bit. "I asked him about the -ya thing. Apparently it means 'hey you'?" Law is a doctor, which is terrifying, but he's also a not terribly threatening grump, which is not terrifying. Soldat has cautiously decided they like him.

"Something like that," he says with a smile. The shift in his demeanor is abrupt and obvious, from thoughtful and concerned to something quite a lot lighter. "Guess it doesn't translate perfectly here but yeah, it's his way of being casual."

More like a little rude, actually, but only mildly. As far as he's ever learned, it's just something Law does and nothing to do with his homeland and how those people spoke. An eccentricity, and everyone's allowed those.

Yeah, a little rude, but not in a disrespectful way, which is a little weird but somehow works. "He grumbled almost as bad as you when I tried to make him eat, when he came looking just for coffee," Soldat comments. "Right after he woke up and came back to the inn."

"Yeah, he's self-sufficient. Does what he wants. Plenty of times, when he was just a kid, he had breakfast cooking for the both of us before I'd even woken up. He doesn't like being waited on."

Which he finds endearing, given the fondness in that description. The ways they contrast might stand out sharply and obviously to any who have only briefly met them, but he and Law have a lot more in common than not.

"He did eat in the end, at least," Soldat points out. "He healed up all right now?" Because they ought to know, if they're going out hunting for survivors in the mines together, and Rosinante will know better than casual observation would give away.

"Yeah. Amazing, isn't it? Guy gets slashed like that, sews himself up, sews other people up too, and now he's doing fine a few weeks later."

He's in awe. He always knew Law would be an incredible doctor. Even at thirteen, his skills were practically professional. With his devil fruit, though, he has perfected every element of it as far as he can see.

It's almost cute, how much Rosinante loves that guy. Soldat smiles over at him. "He's good at what he does, then. Good. We need that, here." Soldat has gotten pretty good at first aid, and they have Misty, but as much as actual doctors scare the shit outa them, they need one around here.

"Yeah. Yeah, we do. Dunno why we can never manage to retain our few doctors."

Knock on wood, though he's not suspicious enough to be bothered by having said that. It's a bad track record, but Law will break it, he's convinced - if anyone can survive anything, he can.

Well. Except that he's here, so he didn't, but. That aside.

"I should probably head back, actually, speaking of Law. I wanted to get our dinner going after your class. Thanks again, though," he says with a nod of appreciation.

Probably the same reason they can't retain a lot of anyone: it's a dangerous place. Soldat sighs and looks out at the trees, feeling at least a little more steady after the walk, and the talk. "You're welcome. Thank you for thinking to come talk to me, too. It helped."

"Glad to hear it," he says. And he really is - genuinely glad. He's accepted that Soldat will probably always frustrate him a little, but who cares? They help hold the place together and that's what they all need. Anything that means they do that even better, he's all in favor of.

"I'll see you at the next one," he says as he waves and heads off.

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Filling up the Schedule (OTA)

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