Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25686329-20160408213713/@comment-3991308-20160413104408

Bastion wanted to frown at how annoyed the guy seemed about room-sharing. But this was a school, and classrooms were public, and Bas was here first and he was not looking forward to walking up flights of steps.

Then, came the gun.

He flinced.

Weapons always put Bastion off – knives ever since hearing of the literal backstabbing that would be inflicted on him destiny wise, guns from when he was a kid listening to the escalating conversations grownups in the parliament had about assasinations and shootings, and swords, mostly out of embarrassment, back in Freedom/Freshman year when he fainted in Sword Fighting 101 and managed to get exempt of that course for the rest of his schooling life.

He glanced upwards at the other guy with a questioning – is this safe? – sort of look. If Bas had known that the gun was, at the most, unlethal under all correct procedures, he might have been a little less nerved.

But, of course, he was a guy who avoided contact with weapons his whole life.

There was a tension in the room, broken by three words in the form of a question, and ending that question had been a single vocative: Fanfarinet.

This dude just used his name. And not once had Bastion mentioned it. If Bas stopped for a moment to wonder how a person he never once talked to (or seen, even) knew his name, things might have turned out quite differently. Instead, Bastion didn't even take much notice, writing it off as his reputation exceeding him.

At the Yankee's question, Bas was about to give a brief social-economical class description, before a quick glance at his notes prompted him that the guy was asking about a different sort of class. "Oh," he said with a small frown. "General Villainy."