Welcome to the Kiddie Korral.

[a_bit_put_upon]

Who: The Fifth Doctor and open!
What: IMAGINATION STATION! (yes, I once went to a day care center called that. STFU)
Where: The gymnasium!
When: Officially, the 2 hours prior to lunch and 1 hour prior to dinner, but pretty much any time, really!
Warnings: ...paint fights? Tantrums? Who knows!

Comments

the verb I opened 501 verbs to, guys...

[pleasesmirk]

Swing wasn't too interested in being given something to read, nor was he really interested in anything the Doctor was offering, but he did want somewhere to sit, because his room was cold - and creepier than the dorms in the Assassin's Guild, which was an exceptional feat, he had to say. His older self had terrible taste.

He was used to attempting to do homework in a quiet corner of a common room, or trying to make his own quiet corner, because nobody in a boarding school knew the meaning of 'leaving me alone'. Not that he expected anyone to here, but he didn't really like hanging around on his own in a really, really strange place.

So sitting around here was probably the closest to home he could get. He was doing his Quirmian homework, legs curled under him in the corner of a settee whilst he scribbled out verb conjugations.

devenir: To become.

Present tense
je deviens - I become
tu deviens - you become
il/elle devient - he/she becomesIf anyone was peering over his shoulder, it'd look just like Roundworld French, and

IT'S ALL WRONG!

[doeswhatido]

Well, he was supposed to be reading, but he was meandering about and seeing who all was interested in the books before he sat down. He was in his usual wear, trying not to look as stern as he usually did, and then he noticed the kid on the settee scribbling things out.

He didn't know how to approach kids. Did he sit next to him? Did he look over? What did he do? He had to do something aside from standing still and looking like a total nincompoop, so he crossed to stand about ten feet from the kid, inclining his head his way and looking at the paper as a sign of interest.

"You all right over here?"

Re: IT'S ALL WRONG!

[pleasesmirk]

Swing looked up, much further into his Quirmian homework by this point and trying to make sentences with some of the verbs he'd been working on, "Oh, Forty... Seven. Hello, sir."

He gave him a slight eager smile, "Yes...I'm...justdoing somehomework. Idon't...want to missout onmy education." That, and he'd managed to memorise everything he had to do. It helped to have Swing's brain sometimes.

[doeswhatido]

"No need to call me 'sir,'" he said quickly. Him, a sir? He was nothing like the sirs back at the Organization. He wasn't of their authority or power. He'd allow the concierge and the waiters and the waitresses and the other workers at the institutions he went to to call him that, but not someone he was keen on, not at all. He didn't want that, not even from a kid. He could never live up to the greatness of the sirs he was raised by. Ever.

"What is it?" he asked, coming around with his hands lazily in his pockets and sitting delicately on the side of the sofa, glancing down at the paper. "Language homework?"

[pleasesmirk]

"Oh, but...you'rea teacher, sir..." Swing pulled a face and put his pen down for a minute, because it was getting annoying, "Yes, sir... Quirmian..." He couldn't quite stop himself calling him sir, because it was what he was supposed to call teachers and grown ups.

[doeswhatido]

He leaned over and nudged Swing in the side with his elbow, smiling as he lowered his voice. "Not a teacher, just a highly-trained assassin," he said, chuckling a little before pulling me back. "You want to be one too, right?"

[pleasesmirk]

Swing smirked and paused, before correcting him, "I'm...going to beone too, sir." Whether that said he was incredibly confident, or just that he didn't feel like he had much choice in the matter was a matter left for 47 to decide. "I'm...goodat... poisons."

[doeswhatido]

"You're very good at poisons," he replied, trying his best to be encouraging. "You finished that homework in no time; you did very well. I'm sure you're going to be one of the best assassins on the entire Disc if you keep studying and learning like you do."

[pleasesmirk]

Swing shook his head, a little dejected, despite his praise. He didn't know the others, "No, sir...theothersare... farbetter... thanme. They're... sneakier."

[doeswhatido]

"Hey now, no, cheer up," he said immediately. He remembered the doubts of the others growing up, the late nights they'd spoken to the priests, and he did his best to sound like one despite the fact of the matter that he'd never be as powerful as one, "There's something to be said for being book smart. You can learn physicality, even if you have problems with balance. It's all into how much effort you put into it. I doubt anyone else could come up with seven places to hide a knife as quickly as you did."

And how the kid had come up with seven had astonished even him. It astonished him even more that he'd found three more to help him complete his homework.

[pleasesmirk]

"I'mgood at...concealing weapons... too, sir... but theothers can... alldo Edificeering and sneakingaround... in the dark. I...suck at that." To put it bluntly. Swing was insecure as ever, and his lack of rhythm really did make him too conspicous for a lot of tasks. "People..hearme coming... andknow it's... me. I'm...too obvious."

[doeswhatido]

"Well, you do have a very unique way of speaking," he responded, leaning over with his elbows on his knees. "But I talked much worse when I first got here, here on this ship. Even now I can't say some pleasantries without choking on different parts of a word. There's nothing wrong with the way you talk, don't ever let anyone tell you different, all right? You can't let what others say about you make you fret, cause you to worry. People are good at..." he moved his hands around in a circle, trying to figure it out himself, how to say it, "...bringing about pain on other people. Finding little weaknesses to jab into and bring destruction about because of it. People are cruel, unjust, and evil. But you can't let people's cruelty change you and make you just like them."

After all, 47'd just found a weakness before coming and brutalized that poor Russian boy with it. But that was out of something he didn't really understand the feeling it gave him, but it wasn't fear. Not for himself, anyway.

[pleasesmirk]

Swing looked up at him with a mild sense of awe - he was a properly qualified assassin, wasn't he? And he was being so nice. Nobody was ever that nice to him, and he had no idea what to do. "But... Isound stupid. Even my mum...triesto... getme... tostop. I...can't...helpit. How...didyou stop?"

[doeswhatido]

"No, you don't sound stupid," he replied quickly, fiddling with his tie a bit. "People all over the world have different methods of speech; no one can rightly say anyone else sounds stupid. Some people stutter, some people stammer, falter, come to complete halts with their speech. Some people have various accents that would make them sound stupid to other people. You can't win either way you go. Someone is going to think you sound stupid no matter how properly or well-educated you talk."

He thought a moment. "As for me? I still flub up, mostly with women. They make me nervous. Unless I'm talking business or having a really intense conversation, well, I'm just not used to talking at all. Didn't have anyone to talk to at all. Assassins lead a life without others."

[pleasesmirk]

Swing nodded and looked down at his book, then back up at 47. "People...haven'tmade fun... of me here." He smiled a little, "Lessthan... atschool, anyway. Ushas was...nice, even ifshe's... afancy timelord." Swing rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "So...youdon't...eventalk...much? We...talk allthetime. I'drather not."

[doeswhatido]

"I used to talk to my connection to the Organization through the device I have here and that was pretty much it," he responded, noting the name as it was dropped but also not knowing it at all. "And if anyone here makes fun of you, you know what to do, right?"

He smiled.