Lunch 'n' Learn

[casey]

--open

The Academy was not exactly known for its speedy food service times. Apparently no one had the Gift of making food at anything resembling a fast rate. For that matter, it seemed as though having Gifts made things even more difficult to handle in the kitchen.

Casey was of the opinion that they should consider hiring Faeries or Dragons to do the cooking. If they did, they certainly didn't hire enough of them. Faeries were supposed to be great multi-taskers, when they wanted to be, and surely the Academy could find at least one that could cook quickly enough. Dragons were just master chefs, when they could be bothered to do so.

For now Casey attempted to bolt down the lunch he'd finally managed to score: a BLT and a bag of chips. Nothing nutritious, really, and barely sustaining, but it was fast, and that's what Casey needed at the moment.

In one hand he clutched what looked like a palm-pilot, scanning its readout quickly. The other hand held his sandwich, and he took a bite out of it every once in a while. All of Casey's attention was focused on the palm pilot-thing. A bomb could land next to him and he'd barely acknowledge it.

Casey chewed and studied, intent on learning and eating as fast as possible.

[scythe]

After searching for the rat for a few days he'd finally found him. Being around students so much grated on him and it was really begin to test his sanity. It was also testing his ability to not eat the very creatures he was supposed to be "protecting." Guard, watch, defend. Making his way through the throg on children eating lunch he got to the table that the peon sat at. Many students moved far away from he lumbering, muscle-bound, man who appeared as though he was going to rip someone in half.

He pulled out a chair slowly then sat down right across from the man who was intently staring at some device. In silence he sat and watched the man like a cougar watching a deer. As he waited for the man to notice him he went through many scenarios in his mind. All of them involved torture, pain, lots of blood, and all ended with that man's flesh being devoured by a certain dragon. These day dreams had a sick grin sliding across his face. Imaginings, dreams, thoughts. He loved thinking of death, and pain it was such an uplifting idea.

After he felt he'd waited enough he slammed his hand on the table near the man and rose out of his chair slightly leaning in close to the man. The noise startled some students having more than he liked watching him. Staring, gawking, gazing.

"Ittle man, did you mess me?" The smirk on his face protrayed death, and his eyes were a picture of the grim reaper himself. Hades, Death, Pluto.

[casey]

This could only turn out poorly for Casey. Gulping, he set down sandwich and looked up at Scythe, smiling.

"Hey, good to see you're still in one piece," he admitted. It was the truth, really. Scythe had gone out of his way to help Casey. The Agent certainly didn't wish the dragon any ill will. For that matter, he felt he should explain.

"Look, I'm sorry about the trap thing. But you were acting suspicious. If you'd just told me your name or something I wouldn't have done it. But I can't just let a random person in here. There are kids walking around, for crying out loud," Casey grimaced, looking around. "I can understand if you want to kill me, fine, whatever. But I didn't do it because I wanted to screw you over."

Sighing, Casey set down his device, fully focusing on his new meal buddy.

"What are you doing here anyway?"

[scythe]

Little man has a liking for speech, and that was another thing to add to the list of reasons to kill him. It was apparent that the man was attempting to get himself out of the hole, but the dragon refused to let him. Pit, ditch, grave. Returning to his seat he stared at the man eyes not lessening in their deadly gaze.

"You shink it good idea tell name is Scythe?" Yes, tell the man who is injured that your name can be associated with death, and the Grim Reaper. Wonderful idea, and besides he was pretty sure his name was on the record labeled 'people to kill as soon as possible.' Execute, assasinate, destroy. He shifted in his chair grabbing up the man's sandwich peeling off the alien life forms other people knew as lettuce and tomato, then finished it off in one bite.

The last words out of the peon's mouth made the smirk return. "I Agent WingBlade..now."

[casey]

"No, is bad idea," replied Casey. He warily watched as Scythe stole his sandwich and gulped it down. Great, just what he needed right now, a bully. Casey had thought he'd outgrown those years ago, when he'd graduated from the Academy. He certainly wasn't about to be pushed around now.

"Agent WingBlade, huh?" he repeated. Now it was his turn to smile, "Well, congratulations on that. I take it they told you it was either death or work for them?"

Casey arched his eyebrows now, leaning back from the table. Something about Scythe made Casey want to get as far away as possible. England was probably good.

"You know, if you want to eat, I should probably leave you alone."

Casey moved as if to stand, keeping an eye on Scythe to gauge his reaction.

[scythe]

He nodded minutely his eyes focused on the peon before him. Maybe he should have made up some not so threatening name to tell the man. That probably would have been a better idea than being threatened into slavery. He made a note of that the next time he decided not to eat someone out of the kindness of his sadistic heart. Consideration, decency, understanding. His eyes narrowed slightly as he chewed the near flavorless sandwich. Food had certainly gone down hill since he'd last been in America if this was the best they had to offer.

"Yes, zey 'av bound me vith their chains. Just like you peon." Grinning very slightly at his name for the pathetic man, but when the man made to stand he stood as well. This man's life was going to be as much a hell as he could make it. Abandon, underworld, abyss. No one laid a trap for him from which he ended up bound in chains of servitude. Not at least without paying some sort of consequence.

"Food can vait." Or he could eat the man when they were away from the children. Students, teenagers, offspring. If he had anything to do with it that man's flesh would be in his stomach before he died. Such a nice pleasant thought to have at lunch time.

[casey]

Just like me? Did Scythe know more than he let on, or was he simply guessing? It didn't make any sense for them to have told a new Agent all the reasons they were holding other agents. Even if Casey and Scythe did have a history. For that matter, that should be extra incentive to make certain that Scythe never found out the details of Casey's employ with the Academy.

Can't look bad, after all.

"What makes you think I'm not working here out of the goodness of my heart?" retorted Casey. He arched his brows and smiled amiably at Scythe, as though he actually believed what he'd just said. Quite skilled at lying, our Casey is.

"It's easy for you to brush off food. You ate my sandwich," Casey pointed out. He waved in the direction said food had been, frowning. Apparently he'd angered this dragon enough that Scythe was now determined to follow him around. Great, that's just what Casey needed.

"Shouldn't you be doing something then? You're a new Agent, there's orientation courses and whatnot. Who's your partner anyw..." Casey trailed off, realization sinking in. They wouldn't. But it did make sense, Casey had brought Scythe in, and that was generally how they determined these things.

F**k.

[scythe]

The little peon had a point he could be here on his own will, but to him no one would submit themselves to slavery. That's why he had lumped the younger man in with him. He viewed this 'agent' stuff as something binding, not something one willingly did. Binding, retraint, constrict. It wasn't like he knew anything about the man, he didn't need to. All he needed to know was that the man had betrayed him.

"Serious? You give self to chains?" If the man was telling the truth then he just got bumped to the bottom of the totem pole. Technically the war dragon had willingly submitted himself to slavery, he could've chosen death. Accepted, selected, picked. But that was the ultimate submission, to give up a chance to live. He was not the type to just roll over and die just because things weren't going his way. Life had a way of chaning over time.

His eyes narrowed and he picked up the offensive lettuce. "You call that a sandvich? I calls that bread vith vabbit food stuck ins it." He was no where near full but he would find real food later. What important now was making this little peon's life miserable. Agony, desolate, tormented.

Like he was going to go to some orientation course. He most likely didn't need it to begin with, and would bore him greatly. Also most of the fellow peons of the little man looked rather young and that annoyed him. Perturbed, bothered, irked. He easily walked away from something as mundane, and unnecessary as 'orientation courses.' As the man trailed off his eyes turned cold as the realization came to him as well.

"I vill not be partnered vith a vittle peon, 'specially vittle peon like you." He straightened glaring at the man as a twinge of worry creeped in that he was indeed clumped together with the man who'd turned him in. The man was bound to die eventually. Someday, ultimately, sometime. Then he would not only be free of a small annoyance in his life but hopefully of the chains to the place.

[casey]

"Do they not know about sarcasm where you're from?" asked Casey. He rolled his eyes, suddenly wishing he were elsewhere. Actually, he'd been more or less wishing that for weeks now, and it just got stronger when Scythe showed up. "I didn't 'chain' myself. Though you'd better watch language like that: there are people here working from the goodness of their hearts."

He eyed Scythe warily, figuring that excuse wouldn't go over well with the war dragon. Chances were that Scythe didn't even know what "goodness of their hearts" was. Might even think it meant the parts that tasted good. But Casey really did know people like that, Trixie for example, and a handful of others.

"Hate to break it to you, but they're going to pair you with a vittle peon," added Casey. He grimaced. "Probably me, knowing my luck. Honestly, these people have a sick sense of humor."

Casey sighed, propping his elbows on the table and running his hands through his hair. Nothing seemed to be going his way lately. It really would be his luck to get assigned Scythe. Twisted, sick, bast**ds.

"What task did you sign up for?"

[scythe]

His eyes narrowed fractionally but other than that there was no reaction from him. He stood staring down at the man starting to get rather bored with the whole situation. When he got bored he got hungry, and when he got hungry he started picturing various weaklings as food. Casey was his first target. Victum, prey, course. That squishy flesh of his would most likely be best grilled over a hot fire. The bones would make a lovely stock for stew as well.

As the man talked he continued imagining what a meal the peon before him would make. Maybe he'd snatch up one of these annoying children as well. They were loud, they smelled, and held no respect for their elders. All perfectly sound reasons to put them on a spiget. Some added game from the nearby forest and he'd have himself a feast! His mouth was watering with his wondering thoughts, his eyes glazing over in his imaginings. Dreams, visions, ideas. The man's question however drew him out of his mind and into life.

"Task? I sign up for no task. I do vhat zey tell me. Nutzing more." Maybe he should find someone of higher placement to figure out what exactly he should be doing. Actually, no he didn't need to do that. If there was something they needed of him they could find him. He wasn't doing this "out of the kindness of his heart" but to live. All because he didn't tell someone his name. Next time he'd give whoever it was an alias to go by.Surname, epithet, moniker. Better than getting tricked into chains.

[casey]

For a few moments, Casey pictured Scythe guarding someone. Or fetching a small child. Doing anything that really involved not hurting people, for that matter. Their best bet was to put him on defense and give him an overreactive partner. Preferably one that could survive getting impaled several times.

And Casey did not like where that train of thought was heading. Fortunately he shape-shifted, and didn't regenerate.

Yet.

"Sounds like you really need to talk to somebody," suggested Casey. His eyes nervously darted away. Hopefully this would give Scythe an excuse and/or a reason to leave.

"They generally assign you to specific types of work. Like searching, or guarding," he eyed Scythe. "Chances are you're going to be a guard. Assuming they don't partner you with someone to be the hammer to their anvil."

Hopefully Scythe understood that more or less. The hammer pounded people, while the anvil supported. Basic stuff, and a painful way to handle partnering, really.

[scythe]

"I do not vish to talk to somebody. If sey want someting zey tell me." He was sure he'd already stated this, but the man didn't feel too intelligent to him. First he'd made the mistake of setting a trap for him, second he was the cause of his bindings, and three he was weak. Feeble, powerless, puny. Or appeared to be.

The guarding buisness sounded somewhat appealing, but the hammer job sounded delightful. Maybe this situation wasn't going to be all annoyance and agonizing boredom. He wanted to hear more about these hammering jobs and who he might be hammering. Hopefully annoying peons who needed to be dipped in flour then fried. Grilled, broil, braise.

"Explain these...hammering and guarding jobs." He sat crossing his arms over his massive chest eyeing the man. It didn't occur to him to ask nicely or include the word please into the sentecen. The dragon couldn't remember when he'd used the word. It was used to people he respected, he didn't respect many people. Honor, homage, admire.

[casey]

Couldn't Scythe just leave Casey well enough alone? He was already going to be late on starting his latest assignment, and the more time he spent with the dragon, the more nervous he got. He fidgeted, looking down at the multi-function device.

"Guarding's pretty much what it sounds like," he explained. "You're assigned something or someone to guard, and it's your job to make sure nothing happens to it. Could be a rare artifact, or a dignitary. For that matter, we occasionally are assigned to guard important Academy members."

Casey shifted, glancing again at his device. Definitely late.
"Hammering is part of a two person strike team. Sometimes the Academy will send out partners, or sets of partners, to deal with a renegade. A wild dragon," Casey looked to Scythe, then lowered his eyes, "or a villainous Gifted. They'd even gone after crazed Fae. At any rate, the idea is that you, well, take care of the threat. Remove it. Or, more preferably, capture whomever and take them back here for rehabilitation."

Casey looked at Scythe, wishing he could reinforce this for the overly violent war dragon. "Any other questions?"

[scythe]

His eyes did not move, his muscles did not twitch from sitting so still, the only noticeable movement was his chest, and even that was minimal. He just stared at the man as he spoke, as he explained the different roles to him. Duties, jobs, choices. Then when the man was done he stood.

"Goot. I vill keep boat dese t'ings in mind." The dragon's attention was wavering, only able to listen to such rabble for so long. His stomach was also demaned to be fed decently before it decided to eat one of the annoying baby cows running about. Seeing that as a thing that might get him in trouble with his chain holders he thought it best to leave. Besides the peon man looked antsy. Anxious, nervous, impatient. He did enjoy making the man uncomfortable, and it certainly helped ease the annoyance of being near such a pathetic creature. When his stomach called he did not refuse it.

Without so much as a nod in the direction of the weakling he turned and stalked away. The students basically leapt out of the imposing man's path. Route, way, track. The forest would provide the best game since he could not find anything worth eating within these walls. It would also be best to scout the area while he was at it. Yes, he'd scoured the area before being bound, but it was always good to go over things again.

[casey]

Now that Casey had lost his new bestest buddy, it was time for him to get gone. Preferably in the opposite direction of Scythe.

First, the Agent hurried to grab another sandwich. This was crammed into his mouth, so that he could eat and run at the same time. Next, he grabbed the little device, cramming it into his pocket. He glanced in the direction Scythe had went, hoping that the dragon wasn't going to be causing anyone any more trouble.

"Let's hope someone else can deal with it," muttered Casey. He took another bite of his sandwich, and headed out of the Antechamber.

Away from Scythe.