daybreakacademy | I'm sorry mister policeman, if I wanted to talk I would have called a friend.

Who: "Nobody" and OTA.
When: After the Hunt.
Where: Class, Cafeteria, Lumiere 3 Commons, The library.
What: Zan reacts and doesn't react to the hunt aftermath.
Warnings: He's awful but probably not that awful.

a - Class Punk

Most of the classes are made up of humans. That was always an inevitable reality, school of magic or not. Even with the sunglasses back on, he still cuts a wide curve of people avoiding him. In classes, he notices the majority leaning to one side while the remaining notably odd, inhuman, or fanged sit with their heads down on the other trying desperately to pretend they haven't noticed. He sits with them, leaning back in the chair with his hands behind his head and his feet kicking up on the desk.

"This is nostalgic. Just like old times," He muses aloud. Anyone turning to look will be greeted with a flash of a grin. Particularly fearful humans get an additional, "Boo!" Followed by snickering.

B - Paid Parking

There's an advantage to this. It mostly involves skipping through lines. Who would have thought that the key to a quick cafeteria run was a school-wide murderous rampage and then loudly announcing one's self?

Like saying, "Do you want to be eaten? Move."

He manages to get away with a hefty tray of just about everything he can fit on it. He snags a fair table in the corner full of empty seats and gnaws on various pieces of his bounty as he reads through an old musty book on daemonology.

Without looking up he says, "Seat's not taken but there's a fee. Pay up one bit of food and the chair's yours."

c - Not Sulking

There are still marks in the wall from where he dragged his claws. His curiosity almost gets the best of him in having him check if that girl's door is still in pieces. He resists.

He collapses back on a couch in floor three's common room and removes the sunglasses at last. It's only evident then that he hasn't slept. He's not sleeping now, instead flicking through his school-gifted phone to turn on an old classic.

d - Hide Out

The library is a haunt of his. Sure it means running into people but they were all here under the mutual agreement to leave each other alone. And he could read as much as he liked.

Unfortunately, it doesn't mean he can simply not sense the fear off the nearby soul. They're hiding, tucked behind a bookcase and trying not to be heard. He doesn't have to guess why.

He growls to himself and speaks up, "You want to run for it, then run! Literally nothing's stopping you and I'm not interested in chasing."

The student peeks out, an interesting pink as embarassment-red wars with pale-faced-fear. They flinch when they catch his glance and quickly run off.

"Chh." He settles into a seat and pulls up a book, though it's questionable whether he's reading or just glaring at pages.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

His efforts to diffuse the tension seem to have succeeded and Seiji is proud of that, in a way, but he also is curious in his own right now.

"Not so different from any other animal that impulsively tastes something that is unhealthy for it," Seiji replies. "They learn soon enough. Sharks are highly intelligent creatures."

He snorts. Impulsively tastes something that is unhealthy for it. Yeah, that's about the shape of it.

He grins, wry. "When they survive you mean. Humans have a funny habit of underestimating their own abilities for murder."

He wishes he'd paid more mind to how many seemingly ordinary humans had run wild in the hunt. Too bad.

Seiji had locked himself away into his room for most of the Hunt, attempting to avoid the backlash of emotions against his empathy that he could not entirely suppress. Still, he felt many a person who was compelled by the Hunt and gave in to the other side of themselves.

"Humans are no less predators than sharks," he agrees. "Not unlike the elephant that fears the mouse, we often fear things that we can harm just as easily with far more intent."

Does he see himself as the shark? Harmless but curious and potentially destroyed by those who do not understand him? Seiji is not sure how far the metaphor extends.

It's an amusing comparison, making humans out the big stupid elephants in this equation. It's one that gets him to laugh. But he's no mouse, and perhaps not even a shark. He's certainly not harmless.

"So where do you fall?" He asks. Holding up two fingers and putting one down for each point, he adds, "Two questions there; the metaphor, of course, and the litteral, which is if you're here for some kind of animal-based study."

The latter is mostly teasing.

Seiji laughs then, a soft breath of air in surprise at the question, but when he thinks about the conversation, he understands where the assumptions may have come from. He gives a short shake of is head.

"No study. I find animals...grounding, reminding us of our place in the world," he admits. "A friend I have back home is very involved in sea life and conservation. What little I know of ocean animals comes from him, in all truth."

Reminding us of our place in the world. An interesting answer. He makes note of it.

"Where you learned the knowledge doesn't change the fact you acquired it," He points out, just to counteract that bit of sheepishness he hears. Besides, he certainly didn't study marine life.

"That's only one answer, in any case, but I'll let it slide."

Only one? It takes Seiji a moment to realize he had missed something in his previous response. It happens at times, now that his attention is split between the world he knows and the Voice often speaking in his mind.

"Oh, I apologize," Seiji says. "I was not attempting to avoid the question. I am human, with all the caveats of predator and prey that come with it. Just as capable of destruction as any other and just as capable of healing and creating."

He snorts and laughs. That's a very revealing answer. It's fun to be indulged.

"You're very... hm, how do I put it...? Meticulous, aren't you? An eye on every detail, a mark in every book. Careful, but not cautious."

Calculating. How interesting it would be to see the things that have been mapped in the mind.

"I have been told something similar before," Seiji says with a soft half quirk of his mouth.

"What reason would I have to lie or be flippant? We are having a honest conversation of two open minds. It would be disrespectful of me come into such a dialogue with false intent."

He looks amused at that. He makes a mental note to be very, very careful with this one.

"People don't care about respect. Unless they think there's something they can get out of it. Pretty sure that most people would skip to the alternative options. Honesty is a rarity when it's not someone declaring what an asshole they are or they think you are." He snickers.

"No one wants to play philosophical games these days," He tuts. "It's pretty lame."

"There is much more to humans than the eye can see and the mind may know..."

Seiji does not disagree, but he also knows he needs to focus on the conversation he is having, not on the Voice that has become ever present.

"I believe perhaps it is just as likely you have not met the people you seek yet. I doubt I am the only one. When people come together for a common goal or understanding, then honesty often follows."

It's probably for the best he can't hear the voices in the minds of others. He'd all too eagerly take up talking to them.

His grin fades some. There's no sorrow on his face for it, eyes mostly sharp and dead behind the glasses.

"A nice thought but I'm generally an exception to the rule." There was no understanding for him. He's known enough people to recognize the pattern. "It means nothing to me. I'm not seeking anyone." The grin pulls back. "I just like it better when things are interesting."

Seiji looks him over, still taking in the emotions and realizing something changed. It is not a pleasant sensation. At the same time, it does not seem as if the other young man is interested in continuing that branch of the conversation. Unfortunate, but not surprising to Seiji. He spoke to much, pushed too far too soon, but he does not regret it.

"To be an exception is to be exceptional," he says, hopefully in a reassuring way. "We are speaking here, now, openly. While we may not have spent enough time to understand everything about one another, it is a step along that road. In time, perhaps more steps will be taken."

It's hardly a push. He's not offended. But he's been down the road of stupid hope and it doesn't interest him. Lesson learned, he doesn't need to learn it twice. Or whatever number this accounted for now.

"Well I am pretty damn exceptional," He boasts. But that's not what the guy means.

"I like a conversation. Interesting ones. But if you're taking steps, then step lightly. Not every road leads to paradise."

I'm sorry mister policeman, if I wanted to talk I would have called a friend.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject