#pre war eiden

[ihateclaws]

Draw eiden if he was pre-war

It has. Not. Gone completely out of control.

He works at weapon development at RoboCo; C.I.T. desires him carnally.

[vidilpoge]

2023-04-18 Training log

I had as my pre-workout snack a pre-workout energy jelly thing and I was struck down with a bad case of tummy hurt, I had to tap out midway throu the training. It wasn't really that bad but I couldn't move my body as I liked and it was aggravating in more way than one.

We started doing a new form, one cobbled together from german longsword tradition, so we call it "Lichtenauer's form" to contrast "Fiore's form" we've been doing. We are not doing it all to the end because the latter part contains meisterhau we didn't study yet this year. I am quite sure I will get in trouble if I post it around, as we are expected to not do so. I cringe everytime I read on the bottom of the print outs that we cannot share them around.

Then we did some drill about krumphau and as I said I was NOT doing good, messing up tempo and moving wrong, being very out of it. It was a shame because we did something that translated would be "noble war" (eiden kreig? eilden kreig?) that was so good. Just, good. Partner A would try to get a stitch in as partner B would krumphau the extended blade, and partner A had to durckweksen (still I have not checked how to spell it but having know that my notes came with the notion that we could not show them to anyone can you blame me for hating readind them?) to avoid the blow and continue pressing for stabs. Obsessing on how closely I imagine modern olympic fencing can be boiled down to "go in for a thrust, avoid the parry, go for another thrust etc". And they called it the noble war. It's like, given a long pointy metal tool and the occasion to study how to use it to poke another guy with a long pointy metal tool you converge on one thing.

I like fencing with a two handed sword because I find it extremely fun to being able to cut and thrust, and I dislike when people think of the weapon as heavy, unwieldy. It is not a metal club and both the german and italian schools have left us tecniques that require finessing the point, just trust me on this one bro. I had at least one petty fight with strangers online because they said you cant "fence" with a longsword, you can't "parry", you "swordfight" and you "block" with it. Asinine.

I will elaborate further in a post I have yet to write but it's bubbling in my head, intertwining with another one the working title would be "how I reconciled with what a sword is for someone that has never wielded one".

[ihateclaws]

To be fair the shape of Eiden’s glasses is not really fixed; I just thought huge round glasses obscure larger area of his face.

[ihateclaws]

Last night I had a dream where there’s a place the spiritual beings live, and they bless people, all of us, equally. I was in the dream as 22 years old pre-war Eiden (who would have thought; everyone was he/they -ing me though. It was a bless). A few of us know about the place, and our blessings are more obvious.

It isn’t a perfect world; people struggle from time to time, but it is relatively peaceful. Then some rich assholes find out about the place, and, being rich assholes as they are, they want in.

You can’t get in that place, not without the balance between worlds being completely thrown off, but they don’t care. The few of us begged and begged; they don’t care, and they rush in.

As a result, the Spirits have to put all people into trial worlds randomly. Only some people can get through this; you need to find and carry a card to guarantee your place in the new world, and if you die, you die.

I’m among the last ones to be put into the trial because I stayed and begged people not to enter, and because of that, I have a basic guarantee card with me at the beginning. The first note I make as I step through the door is that the starting point looks awfully like my college common room, and there’s a crate of snacks and a few plastic bags at one corner.

I run to the pool table and grab a cue to be a starter weapon, then goes to the food crate to put in some snacks that look vaguely nutritious. That’s when another person comes in. We stare at each other, alarmed; it’s a girl, short, Asian, quite cute if I wasn’t freaking out.

“You have a backpack,” I say. I have nothing other than my shirt and trousers.

By the look of it, it’s empty, and she also have a tote bag. She sighs, and look at the cue in my hand, then the crate, and sighs again.

“Partner up?” She offers.

“Okay.”

“Partner up it is,” she says.

—

She’s the same age as me, and she does chemistry. We change infos during the trip. I never told her about my card, but when we find one, I suggest she keeps it.

“We’ll find another one,” I says, “and if we don’t, say, in a month, I can stab you in the back then.”

The trial world is like a open world video game, to be honest. You don’t have to walk too long before the scenery changes dramatically, and there’re wild animals and monsters as well as cruel people. We still don’t have much weapon, and it’s pure luck we can survive this long.

Then one time we split looking for food, she is murdered. I see her being stabbed to death just as I come back; there’s nothing I could do about it, so I hide, then follow the group.

It’s three people, and I’m sure they have way more than three cards. It’s currency, really. I figure if they stay on the road, they’ll run into trouble sooner or later.

They do. They fight with a group of four and they win, barely. Only one of them is alive, bloody and bruised. I knock her out from behind and stick my cue into her eyes, and take all the cards I can find. She has a nice dagger, silver, elegant, and a comfortable grip, so I take it as well, and head to the Big Circus I’ve been hearing about all the time.

—

It’s more of a social thing, and the currency is cards. I think Cait is fighting for her life on the stage, but no one is watching. I know if I pass the speech and charisma check check, I could sit in the lap of a rich guy, or has a fancy lady on mine. I don’t want to do that. I stand in the middle, scanning the hall.

I see Deacon. He’s wearing a dress shirt, really nice trousers, and a leather jacket. He’s with Piper; it looks like they’re flirting, but I know they’re undercover for something. She’s wearing a fancy red formal dress, looking otherworldly beautiful.

He notices my staring, and looks back, eyebrow raised, like he doesn’t know me. We’ve known each other for fifteen years. That’s when I know; it’s because he doesn’t.

He lost all his memories.

It’s not a bad deal, really. I suppose it’s actually a gift from the Spirits. He doesn’t remember any events or interpersonal relationships, but he does remember his skill set. I remember he also begged people not to go in, so he must also have a card with him. He’s a capable man.

Then I remember: on the top of his skill list, there’s lying. He knows nothing about himself, but he knows he’s a master liar.

That’s when I flee.

—

I know he wants his memory back, and I know he will understand why the Spirits took it when he does. Piper doesn’t know that much about his past; no one here does except me, and I simply cannot deal with that.

I think he recognises me, though. He doesn’t know who I am, but he must intend to find out, because the next time I go to the Big Circus, he comes to me.

He’s relieved that I wasn’t sitting with a big rich person, I realised. He’s hoping I’m not, and he’s worried that I was, because that’s a rational thing to do.

It’s a nice point to insert a bit about Eiden’s backstory here. You might remember that Eiden is a big knives guy, and he has a Balisong. That’s a gift from Deacon on his twelfth birthday, the year Deacon deemed him old enough to fight for his own. He mods it every now and then, but never ever thought of replacing it.

“Hello, sir,” Deacon says easily, “do I know you from somewhere?”

“Hey, D,” I says quietly.

He widens his eyes slightly, and seems to recognises that nickname.

“Hey, you hang on to this,” I says, pulling out the dagger and hands it - blade towards me - to him.

He raises his hand instinctively to take it, then stops and looks at it for a moment.

“Eids,” he murmurs, “Eiden. I think I know you. I know you.”

[ihateclaws]

For the skills oc ask: 5, 8, 16, & 39 for Eiden?

5. What does your character think about pre-war society?

Capitalism sucks but uhhhh robots weapons and technologies in general are sweet,

8. Does your character have any particular pet peeves that irritate them?

PLEASE STOP TALKING WHEN HE ASKS YOU TO!!!!!!!!!

16. How does your character tolerate pain? How do they handle stress and trauma?

Eiden's pain tolerance is just average post-war people level (cannot just walk off broken bones); he doesn’t really handle stress thus the irregular sleep schedule, and he has interesting stories with past trauma. Basically just repress everything.

39. Does your character like to be touched or touch others? How does your character value personal space? What kinds of boundaries, physical and otherwise, are important to your character?

He generally doesn’t like being touched or touch others but doesn’t quite hate it as well. Personal space is very important for him, and he kind of also use it to intimidate others.

Imagine someone who talks and thinks like they have been into intense therapy and did the homework for it but they also kind of don’t want it to work. Yeah. That’s our boy.

OC ask prompts