023 -- [Accidental Post]

[endgames]

[Earlier, when looking through his father’s book for the first time in several months, Shikamaru found some pictures he’d never seen before being used as bookmarks. It was… nostalgic, to say the least.

He finds another bookmark to replace them; puts the photos in a drawer to look at later. Because haha, he knows how this works, right? He leaves them out, and somehow his journal accidentally records it. Yeah. Hell no. He’s smarter than that and doesn’t leave his journal anywhere near them. On top of that, he takes it with him when he leaves to assist with a chakra training lesson. Crisis averted!

Guess what he sees when he opens up his journal two hours later.



Where’s the nearest wall. He needs to beat his head softly against it while he attempts to figure out how this happened. Feel free to action it up when he’s back at CH1 too, if you like.]

[ooc: original artwork from here]

Comments

[endgames]

[He snaps his fingers, lightly.] That's the word.

And I guess that would explain why you don't have one here.

[herotypical]

W-well. I did have one. At home. Helped with the job. But I've really only seen about, oh...threeish things show up here in just as many years.

[endgames]

Hopefully something better than embarrassing pictures.

[herotypical]

Skates. A picture -- but not an embarrassing one and it's not even here any more.

And a weapon.

[endgames]

[Someone else's picture then? Or did something happen to it? Hm.]

You hardly seem the type to need one, at times.

[He remembers that one time she was going at the walls in a Malnosso cell. Then the drafts (where he presumably would've seen her offhand).]

[herotypical]

...This one's a little purpose-built. Not that I need it but it's -- comforting. Like a security blanket, only sharp and deadly.

[endgames]

Aa. I think I know how you mean.

[herotypical]

Got your own, huh?

[endgames]

[Give him a second, and he'll be sporting a pair of trench knives briefly in the journal window.]

I think it says something that I know more people who have an attachment to weapons than any other possession.

[herotypical]

They're cute. And very Roland Weary-ish of you. [ an admiring half-smile. ] Fast, I bet. Close. Intimate.

[ give HER a second and she's lifting an axe-shaped weapon with red metal into sight. though she calls it a scythe. go figure. its opposite end sports a wooden stake. ] I'm ashamed to say that mine's a little more obnoxious. Sadly.

[endgames]

[Ironically, he's a distance fighter. Her comment reminds him he needs to work on close combat skills, if he wants to wield them as well as Asuma.

Her weapon throws him off for a split second, not for its shape but for its color. Reminds him of another scythe...]

There's nothing shy about it, to be certain. And you say mine is intimate.

[herotypical]

One side's for decaps, the other's for dusting. It'll work against anything, really -- but it's made for vampires.

[endgames]

[Ax for the decapitation. Dusting though.... he had no need to learn of vampires until he came to Luceti. Enough to know about stakes. He starts putting two and two together in the background.]

Vampires, huh. That what Slayers deal with?

[herotypical]

Among other things. But that's our chief mission.

[endgames]

Melaka made it sound like there's only one of you at a time.

[herotypical]

Ordinarily? She's right. Chosen one, one girl in every generation, she alone, yadda yadda yadda. Only I'm not very good at following rules.

[endgames]

Aa. That would be where those kids you once talked about training come in, I bet. But you're still the one with the natural skill for it.

[herotypical]

...Something like that. Kinda levels the total unfair advantage thousands of vamps have over...y'know, one lonely girl.

[endgames]

I get it. I've always been a strength-in-numbers kind of guy.

[herotypical]

That, yeah. And...frankly, the old system stank of patriarchy. A revolution was definitely long overdue.

[endgames]

Huh. I'd heard it was a girls only thing to begin with.

[herotypical]

Oh. Absolutely. But Slayers were supposed to be supervised by a Council. Watchers' Council. Which...includes she-Watchers but the majority I've met have been men.

[endgames]

Huh. [Part of him is comforted to know men play a role in this thing after all, but the other half understands full well the grievances of a council.]

I should've expected that. There's always someone to answer to.

[herotypical]

Mmhm. And these someones got into a bad habit of seeing Slayers as their own personal weapons.

[endgames]

Jeez, this story is getting increasingly familiar.