fandomhigh | Fandom High Graduation Ceremony, Class of 2012, Early Saturday Evening (Part 2)

Were you all enjoying your graduation, children? Ingvar certainly hoped you were. It was so much fun, after all! Though... it could be a little more fun, couldn't it? It felt as if something was missing somehow. Something to really make it... fun.

Ingvar knew what it was.

And so, while the graduates were still on and around the stage, the earth began to rumble. Large black clouds of smoke pushed out of Ingvar's volcano and into the air, obscuring the sky and the moon. Soon, the air was covered in a thick black blanket of darkness.

The tune of the rumbling shifted.

Around the stage, clear protective walls sprung up. This was not Fandom's first tango on graduation day, thank you. She knew how to take care of what was hers.

Unfortunately, Ingvar knew its mother well. Moments later, it began to rain: a thick downpour of familiar plastic poppets in varying levels of creepiness, but also nice, brown, fluffy ...red-eyed, sharp-clawed teddy bears. And leading the charge, teeth-first--

"DROP BEARS!"

[OCD is up! Have at it! Audience | Grads: Fight! | Grads: Hide! | Aftermath | OOC 1 | OOC 2]

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Warren had managed to keep from bouncing on his toes long enough to accept the gift, and when he opened the box he couldn't help but run his fingers admiringly over the leather as Lucivar spoke.

"This is... it's amazing," he breathed, pulling the belt and the sheath out and looking them over. He could already picture both seeing a lot of use. Maybe not in Sunnydale, obviously, but in Kaeleer? Absolutely. "It's perfect, thank you."

It was... a concession to the fact that he didn't have Craft, but it was offered as a token of acceptance. As a gift, not as a condescension. Warren wasn't grinning outright any more, if only because he was too busy trying not to look too much like he was about to get all mushy, here.

"Everyone helped," Lucivar added, glancing up towards the sky to look for more drop bears and not because he was on the verge of getting all sentimental, of course. "Kalush sketched the design, and Mephis interviewed the leatherworkers to find the perfect one--" a more through grilling could not be imagined, at least two full grown men had left in tears, "--Chaosti adapted the sheath from something the Dea al Mon used, Saetan opened up a suit of rooms at the Hall for the leatherworker and her assitants, Hell's fire, that village of yours somehow found out about it and sent over the calf. I guess it was the first of the livestock to be born in the village and they wanted you to have it."

More reverent silence while Warren mulled over those words. Everyone had contributed. It wasn't just some belt picked out from a catalog somewhere. It was his, made for him, by his family in Kaeleer.

Right then and there, he draped the new belt over his shoulder, reaching down to unbuckle the one he had pulled on that morning. He had to be wearing this. He had to be wearing it right now, sheath and all, sticks tucked away where they belonged. How could he possibly not?

"I'll have to thank them all personally for this," he murmured as he worked the belt through the loops on his pants. "I... I don't even have the right words for this. I love it."

"Well, you'll have to thank Jaenelle for the idea," Lucivar said, clearing his throat. For, uhh, no reason. "She's the one who pointed out that just carrying the sticks would probably get ungainly. Saetan pointed out that some kind of sheathe would probably take care of that, and it all kind of spiraled from there."

"Yeah, as much as I love carrying around all the things I might possibly need as I go through my day, this really does make it easier," Warren replied, his words soft and warm and everything still kind of overwhelming all the same. Over a belt, yes.

He slipped the sticks into their sheath, moved around a bit to get a feel for the weight of them there. And then he grinned up at Lucivar again, feeling a little like he was going to burst or something.

"You able to move okay in that?" Lucivar asked, focusing on the practical. "Doesn't hinder your movements any? That's important. It should fit all right; the witchling sent us one of your belts when Jaenelle wrote to her of the idea."

He stepped back and gave Warren a critical once-over, and then an approving nod. "Looks good on you," he said. "Good fit."

He wasn't just talking about the belt, no.

Lucivar was clearly trying to make Warren overload on pride and just die right there on the spot. So clearly.

"Is it? I'm going to have to go flying to be sure it won't get in the way then, and a spar while I'm wearing it would probably cover the rest of it, but it... it feels good to wear, right now."

It felt like something to be proud of.

Edited 2012-04-29 18:01 (UTC)

Fandom High Graduation Ceremony, Class of 2012, Early Saturday Evening (Part 2)

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