souninind | ↻ ⏮⏸⏭ ↺

[ So, yeah, maybe he had been abducted by aliens. Or he wasn't feeling well. Or Something. After their little Netbook discussion about writing, during their ridiculous mandated arts and craft time, Sanemi sidles right on up. He isn't exactly as calm and collected about it as he might have liked, but it also isn't like he's nervous to talk to Tengen.

At least. Probably. ]

Hey.

[He's still doing his mad science in arts and crafts, so the table may look. A bit odd, with powders and metal filings and wax and easily flammable vessels to put the above things into, but Sanemi does get his attention easily, at least.]

Hey.

[ Looking down at the mess on the table makes him... almost immediately second guess his decision. He stares at the collection of items for almost too long. ]

...the hell are you making?

[Sorry, Sanemi, it is still Tengen and Tengen is Extra.]

Have you seen the campfire change colors and sparkle flamboyantly~?

[Yeah that's been him, not mister bonejangles' magic.]

[ He's getting the strangest urge to laugh. What the hell has this place turned him into? He does make a sound which is dangerously close to a breath of a laugh, but his face doesn't give it away. ]

Seriously? Have you been doing that every night?

[You're getting soft, nems-

But the overall reaction does get Tengen to smile a little wider at him, too, so like. It's both of them.]

Yeah. The squirrel wouldn't give me gunpowder to make fireworks, so...

[He is aware of how stupid he sounds.]

[ Alright. His face goes through a veritable journey of shifting expressions. He lands firmly between bafflement and exasperated amusement. ]

You were asking a fucking squirrel for gunpowder?

[...Yeah, he gets it.]

Yeah? The one running the first-aid cabin. I got the rest of this from her and the mushroom guys in the forest.

[Keep up, Sanemi.]

[ You know what, sure. He should probably be used to how insane things sound when talking about this place at this point.

Also, this was Tengen. The moment something ridiculously showy had happened he should’ve known he was involved. …actually, maybe he shouldn’t be asking the guy for help after all. ]

I wasn’t here for the day one tour, in case you forgot. Anyway. You seem pretty damn busy with… all this.

[Honestly, Tengen isn't used to it himself yet, it's just easier to pretend it's normal when someone else also takes it like it's fucking strange as hell.]

Ah, shit, I just figured someone had dragged you around at some point. Sorry. Mm- not that busy. Let me just-

[Adds the obligatory single macaroni to the last one-]

There. What's up?

[ He gets the strongest, strangest urge to punch Tengen in the head. He isn’t even mad. What the hell?

And now he feels all. Weirdly skittish. Okay, Sanemi. You are a semi-normal human being who is capable of interacting with others without your nervous system flaring like you’re in danger.

He lifts his left hand to reveal a stack of blank paper. He shakes it dismissively. Yeah. Be cool. ]

I’m cashing in on your offer.

[Totally cool, Sanemi. Super cool.

Anyway, Tengen clears out a space in front of them for the paper and scooches over on the bench to make some more room. Because that will surely help with that urge Sanemi is having.]

Really? Shit, alright, have a seat.

[ Oh, god.

Sanemi palms the paper down onto the table and, hesitantly, climbs over the bench to sit next to Tengen. This guy was so fucking big what the fuck -. ]

You sound surprised.

[And while Sanemi does that, Tengen grabs some pencils and markers from a nearby stash, totally oblivious to his big man crisis, here-]

I mean, yeah. I'm not the guy people ask for help, usually.

[Outside of the whole demon-hunting job, that is. That they're both retired from.]

[ Sanemi has been having a strung together crisis for nearly the entirety of his time here. At this point, it’s practically secondary. ]

You offered.

[ He says it’s like it’s obvious. He also says the next part like it’s obvious. ]

Also, shit, I’d much rather ask you than most of the people here.

[That. Is entirely fair, he is very on display, Sanemi.]

...Pft, yeah, okay. Show me what you've got so far.

[After... considering everyone else, he'd ask Sanemi, too, honestly, so. Yeah.]

[ There isn't much writing on the paper. He'd gone off to try and utilize all the varying advice he'd received afterward and quickly come to a frustrating realization: regardless of whether he had arrived here healed, to a certain degree, the weakness in his right hand was as if he had slept for a month. Or two. Imagine that!

He slides the topmost paper over with the air of a nervous animal. The handwriting is, unsurprisingly, pretty shit. ]

Hope you weren't expecting a fucking miracle.

[He wasn't expecting a miracle, but what he sees is... fine? It's readable. Better than he expected, actually.]

This is your off hand? And you just started trying? Could've fooled me.

[ Ueh? Sanemi is looking at Tengen with blatant disbelief. He'd anticipated ridicule, maybe, or an off-handed, breezy comment about how much work this was all going to be. Receiving a... compliment? Surprises him. ]

What? Seriously?

Yeah seriously.

[They've both been abducted by aliens.]

It's readable, isn't it? Probably better than your first attempts with your dominant hand.

[ Sanemi's face goes mildly pinched, smooths over, then flusters vaguely. He taps his hand distractedly against the piece of paper. ]

Yeah. I mean, definitely yeah. The first time I even tried to grip anything thinner than my Nichirin blade after, was... a shitshow.

[There is a very crude joke he could make and get away with because Sanemi has not put his obligatory macaroni on his writing practice yet and would therefore be glued to the ground if he tried to leave. But he doesn't.]

You have no idea how long it took to get used to one hand.

[Anyway.]

Show me how you write with both.

[ Tengen please he has come to you in vulnerable confidence — speaking of which, though. Before he sets the paper aside in favor of grabbing a fresh piece, he slaps a piece of macaroni down onto it. ]

Shit, I'll bet.

[ A part of him feels shitty for complaining. Tengen had lost an eye and a hand. Kyojuro had lost an eye (and his life). Losing two fingers felt almost like a drop in the pond, comparatively.

He glances up, and does not examine why the request makes him feel oddly skittish. ]

At the same time?

[This is why he let the chance go!]

Still not quite there if I'm honest, ugh.

[Complaining is... allowed. It's a luxury of the retired. They were cut to pieces but they survived to bitch about their injuries. He wouldn't begrudge Sanemi that, even if his were more extensive than a couple fingers.]

I mean, if you want. I just want to see what you can do with each one, this time.

[He had suggested trying both at once, but... this time it's up to Sanemi.]

Maybe you ought to practice while we're sitting here. Misery loves company and all that. Unless you're not just talking about writing.

[ Had he noticed something off about Tengen's writing on the Netbook? Maybe he'd never paid close enough attention to his handwriting in the first place. It wasn't as if they'd exchanged many letters back home. Hell, this was probably the most time he'd ever actually spent with him since they'd met.

Sanemi picks up a marker in either hand with a visible furrow in his brow. Gripping a pen with his dominant hand, at this point, largely involved wrapping his remaining fingers around it and not giving a shit about what his thumb did. As for the left: his grip strength was stronger, but he was unused to moving it quite the same way. He had experience with swordplay with it, but beyond that...

The tip of his tongue peeks out as he leans forward to write. He's concentrated! ]

Hi. You can't get rid of me,

Hi glues self to like we forgor a macaroni

Macaron-we art...

Macaron-we art!!

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject