knitting sweaters.

[likesboys]

So here's what you missed on Glee:

Kurt's been kind of whining this whole winter about the lack of his family and friends on the island, and it seems to have worked, because Rachel showed up right on Christmas Day — ("Please tell me that you see something strange about the auditorium.") — even though she's Jewish and was in the middle of a pretty important audition for the school musical. Did we mention that Kurt just happened to be in the middle of practicing for the very role that Rachel played last year? ("The thing is... I really want to be in it. I know the show already — I played Janet — not that I want Kurt's part or anything, of course.") Rachel did.

But now people all across the island seem to be getting mysterious presents that appear out of thin air — ("Sweet.") — and Kurt's a bit skeptical, but maybe seeing all this swag has him protesting a little less than he'd otherwise be.

And that's what you missed on... Glee!

I know what you're thinking. I've got exactly one week left in January, which is purportedly the month when everyone on the island receives a present from the Powers That Be. I've been generally keeping a fair amount of distance from any big gifts, sweeping or otherwise, that the island drops off, but I've had it reassured to me several times over that these annual gifts are usually the safer of the bunch, and that I shouldn't worry.

With a red canvas messenger bag looped over Kurt's shoulder, pieced together from an overlarge blazer courtesy of the clothes box, he made his way around the Compound after a long day's worth of dance, ready to enjoy a coveted fifteen minute break before shuffling off to a meal, and then his next class. The sun seemed to practically smile from overhead, and the snow hadn't worn off enough for Kurt to tire of it just yet, so he decided to take a detour to the trampoline around back, an admittedly guilty pleasure.

And, well, seeing Puck receive a guitar and Wichita jamming to the tunes on her brand new iPod have left me curious as to whether or not there's anything in store for me. I don't need big and flashy, I suppose, but had I ever believed in Santa, I guess this is the equivalent of waiting, wondering if you'll receive presents or coal in your stocking on Christmas Day. Seven days left, and I've honestly kind of lost hope.

A sigh passed through his lips as he let his books drop gently to the ground, before then falling back against the stretched elastic of the trampoline. Soon enough, he'd have to find shade— his skin burned more easily than it had any right to, honestly— but for a few blissful seconds, he could simply listen to the rustling of wind through the trees and enjoy the scent of pastries in the air.

But as he began to stretch his arms, a brush against cold metal had him blinking himself to awareness, freezing in place before suddenly scrambling to a seat. Glancing over his shoulder, his gaze fell upon a wide range of items laid out where the trampoline had been bare seconds before, what looked like a series of harnesses, sashes, and perhaps most noticeably, a pair of sai swords.

His smile widened.

Maybe I spoke too soon.


[ Come witness Kurt as he's about to be a sneaky little ninja. This post is dated January 24th, but will be linked to the main comm in February. ST/LT welcome, no limit on tags, open to all. ]

Comments

[turnedtoproust]

Scripps has seen a great deal of magnanimous gift-giving lately. It's something he's a tad surprised by given that he's not sure what higher power to thank for this. He's on his way to the Compound when he sees Kurt, the swords, and the look on Kurt's face as he sees the swords. He suspects this may either be a comedy or a tragedy about to happen.

God forbid it may be both. "You know, I've heard that people get appropriate gifts as to what they've been yearning for. Does this mean you're in the mood to stab people and I've just been in the dark?"

[likesboys]

Not even having to meet the boy's eyes to know who's standing by the side of the trampoline, Kurt simply picks both blades up, careful to keep the metal pressed cool and easy to the center of each palm, the shock of cold stretching up the length of his arms. It's been some time since he's practiced, but without having to dance, sing, or do much anything else other than make eye contact, it isn't hard to get the blades twirling from each hand, cutting through the air with an audible zip.

"Hardly," he grins, back stretched as straight as a board for the demonstration. "Although I do think that these might come in handy for self-defense if I wanted to gun for extra credit. But no, no secret desire to stab people. I just have this thing for swords."

[turnedtoproust]

Scripps tracks the edge of the trampoline to approach and get somewhat closer, that wary look doing its damnedest to hold on and stay where it is. "You realise that doesn't make this sound any better. In fact, it makes it sound as if I ought to beware when I'm asleep if ever I do something like steal your sandwich."

[likesboys]

"I promise, and I promise that I'm not about to stab you over a stolen sandwich or just for the heck of it while you sleep. Honestly, I'm in that camp of people who finds it totally obnoxious and kind of creepy that Edward and Angel both did that whole 'watch my girlfriend as she sleeps' deal, so the chances of me doing anything but waking you up in the event of an emergency are slim to none," Kurt reassures, letting the twirl of the swords come to a stop as the smooth surface of the metal slaps against the center of his palm.

"I just... think that swords are kind of beautiful. Remarkable. They come in so many different sizes and shapes, and there's surprisingly a lot of care put into them in a way that you wouldn't necessarily expect for something that's traditionally used as a weapon."

[turnedtoproust]

"I always liked swords better than guns, but that could be the anti-imperialist in me condemning the practice of conquering new lands." No battle was ever really the same once the gun was put into practice. Swords remained and in some cultures, they even thrived, but the pistol blasted them down. "And what do you plan to use these for?"

[likesboys]

"I like swords for how quiet they can be. Nothing more than a hiss of metal, and easy to hide if you find one small enough. Which... probably just sounds worse of me, wow, okay," Kurt pauses, taking a small breath before he holds his hand out in explanation. "I don't mean that in the sense that my life's ambition is to be a ninja or whatever, but. But, you know, to someone who isn't big, burly, or fond of violence, knowing that there were ways to protect myself that kind of resembled myself, in a way, was really inspiring. So I just became really enamored with the idea of trying to train with them, but since I was never really doing it in the hopes of weaponizing them, it just became 'how do we best make these look flashy and beautiful.'"

[turnedtoproust]

"I won't lie, if I find a history book and your name is in it for being a very silent and efficient killer, I will not be surprised at this rate," Scripps replies with jest, an easy smile on his face. "And you know, you're not wrong. My best defense was always a quick prayer to the heavens. 'Please, God, don't let me be beat up horrifically in this mess'." Well, and having blokes like Lockwood and Crowther for mates never hurt. "I think your swords may be a tad more efficient in that area."

[victorofthe65th]

Finnick's on his way toward the Compound, a small net-full of dead fish flung over one shoulder. In his other hand, he holds his trident, prongs up, using the butt end as a makeshift walking stick. He's spent most of the morning gathering his bounty -- which, if he's honest, isn't nearly as much as he'd hoped for -- and now he needs a shower, a change of clothes, and good, hot meal.

Still, when he catches sight of the kid on the trampoline or, moreover, the items piled at his side. His lips twitch into a friendly grin as he nears. "Hey, I got one of those," he says, casually showing off his much longer and much less artistic trident.

[likesboys]

In spite of the fact that none of their shows can really be considered high entertainment, Kurt Hummel has spent no small amount of time on the CW. When his eyes are too tired to pore over scripts and his mind in need of new and entertaining ways to unwind, turning to the channel usually unearths something light and easy, an hour or two usually dropped before bed. Naturally, this means that he's all too aware of the Winchester brothers' presence on the island— and when a younger version of Jared pops up today, sans crazy sideburns and all, Kurt can't complain. Not one bit. If anything, he has to make a concerted effort not to stare as this alternate version of Jared walks towards him, sweat glistening on the side of his neck.

"I'm not sure I can quite bring myself to make the joke that comes to mind," he murmurs to himself, before sliding back to the side of the trampoline, tugging the sais onto his lap. "Impressive. Judging by the catch on your back, I'm guessing that you're a fair bit more familiar with yours than I am mine."

[victorofthe65th]

"Well, I've had a lot of practice," Finnick says, slowing to a stop. "And I had less luck this morning than normal." His t-shirt sticks to his skin and his swim trunks -- which, this time are about two sizes too big instead of too small -- are still damp from fishing. The combination of salt water, fish, and sweat is pretty repugnant, he's sure, but it's weirdly comforting to Finnick. It's the closest he's felt to being himself in a long time.

Still grinning, he lowers his net to the ground and nods at the weapons now in the kid's lap. "You have any idea how to use those things?"

[likesboys]

Letting his legs hang over the side of the trampoline, Kurt grins, trying to imagine this guy heading out early every morning, before the sun has risen to its high, just out among the waves and the tide. It's a pretty nice picture, to be honest, even if Kurt knows that he probably wouldn't do the same in a million years. Swimming out in the ocean is already enough of a stretch at times, the water feeling sticky to the touch and feeling grimy once dried; he'd prefer to keep to the freshwater falls, or at least not to wade out beyond his calves. Pressing his lips together in thought, Kurt picks up one of the two blades, weighing it in his hand before spinning it with a constant flick of his wrist, the lighting bending and reflecting across the trampoline.

"If by 'use,' you mean twirling it around for a show, I guess I do. But if you asked me to go fishing, I'd probably come back with an empty net, to be honest," confesses Kurt.

[victorofthe65th]

Finnick's eyebrows lift as the kid starts spinning one of the swords with apparent ease and he lets out a soft, surprised laugh.

"That's pretty impressive, actually," he says as he raises his own spear, flipping it right side up with a quick twist of his arm. "Do you just use them for show then?"

[likesboys]

"More or less," admits Kurt with a wince. There's a part of him that wishes he could claim something more, something impressive, and far less superficial. But the fact of the matter is that Kurt doesn't keep himself entirely aware of what goes on around the island, or exactly how far any of them can run. His relative fear of what happened in Jurassic Park chills him at intervals, and although he imagines that any sort of ending on the island would be too fast for them to even catch in a blink, Tabula Rasa has no shortage of its own troubles.

Knowing something beyond how to stop an assault might come in handy.

"I've... loved blades since I was pretty young. The people who used them always seemed so noble, brave, and no one really dared to throw them around. But lessons were expensive, so I just bought a pair and decided to try and teach myself. This happened."

[musicallyverbal]

"Hi Kurt!" Rachel walked quickly over to where he was standing, some books hugged tight against her chest. She was wearing a plaid skirt and knee socks, and with the books, rather looked as if she were straight out of a McKinley High hallway.

"I'm glad I found you. I've been meaning to talk to you about something, did you know that Cole Porter used to - "

She suddenly stopped, having only just made any note of her surroundings. She blinked down at what was around Kurt. "Are those swords?"

[likesboys]

"Sai swords, to be exact," replied Kurt with a grin, picking one up and starting to spin it in his hand, the blade catching the sun's rays as it glittered in an arc. "Traditional Japanese blade, although also used by Gabrielle in Xena: The Warrior Princess. And in various Tomb Raider games, but I'm less familiar with those." His lips were curved confidently as he let the heavy weight dance between his fingers. It'd taken him years to work up that amount of dexterity, but back in the days when he didn't have the glee club to occupy him, there was little else to spend his time on, anyhow.

Letting the sword come to a rest with a slap to his palm, Kurt shrugged and placed it back down on the trampoline. "Anyway, now that I've gotten that out of my system— Cole Porter, did you say? Yeah, I remember him being around. Never quite dared to approach him, but he liked to tickle the ivories now and again."

[musicallyverbal]

"You know how to use a sword?" Rachel sounded a mixture of surprised and impressed. "Aren't you full of surprises." Then, with abrupt change in focus, back to the subject at hand. "Yes, Cole Porter, so. Did you know he wrote a show while he was here? Brand new musical, songs and book and everything. And then disappeared and left it behind. I met this man, who knew him and has the pages from it - he looks exactly like John Barrowman, can you believe that? It's so strange here, I think I might have caught a glimpse of Robert Pattinson the other day."

[likesboys]

Blinking for a moment, as Kurt often did after Rachel's twists and turns in conversation, Kurt shook his head. "I know how to brandish a sword," he clarified. "I doubt I'd be very much help against an actual adversary, but after years in middle school made it pretty clear that I was, ah, different, I just... took up something that made me feel a little more capable of defending myself, I guess."

Crossing his arms and scooting over on the trampoline to allow Rachel to sit in turn, Kurt tilted his head. "And, about those celebrity-lookalikes, it's not your imagination, and it's also not a coincidence. Plenty of people who are fictional in our world... are real, here. John Barrowman is actually Jack Harkness. Robert Pattinson is, much to his chagrin I'm sure, Edward Cullen. Josh Groban is Anatoly Sergievsky. And the list goes on," Kurt waved his hand. "But yes, Cole Porter was here, but— what, are you trying to say that we should put on his show? Because we'd need a whole lot of help."

[musicallyverbal]

"I know that," Rachel sighed at his explanation of fictional people. She'd been here for over a month, after all. That didn't make it any less weird. Though hearing that it really was Edward Cullen was a little freaky. She knew some girls at school that would be freaking out right about now, probably Tina among them.

"You know, Florence from Chess is here, too," she added, frowning. "She looks... like my mom. And yes, I'm saying we should put it on. Or someone should. I thought you'd be more excited about this, Kurt, honestly. It's like someone found a lost Da Vinci or something!"

[likesboys]

"W-w-wait-a-minute hold up, hold up," Kurt stammered, giving Rachel an alarmed glance as he held out his hands to rest on her shoulders. Cole Porter was important, after all, no doubt about that, but more important by far was the fact that Rachel's mom— or a lookalike— was somehow on the island. And Kurt hadn't noticed. "You mean Florence looks like, she's not, she's not Julia Murney? I thought with Groban and Pascal that it'd be... okay. That's, I mean, how are you feeling about that?"

And with a glance at her expression, Kurt hurriedly raised a hand to pause. "And don't get me wrong, I am ecstatic about there being another Cole Porter work, I'm just... I mean, the thought of producing something like that all on our own feels incredibly intimidating. I'd like to think that we'd make a better team than Lionel and Maxxie make for Rocky Horror, but the two of them are seriously worn thin and I just don't want something like that to happen to us, you know."

[phoinikothrix]

Francis made his way up the path from the beach, carrying a basket full of seagrasses. In the weeks since his small, hopping excuse for a gift had appeared, he'd been making do with lining Janus' cage with shredded newsprint--which had proven both tedious and smelly. Though the past two hours of tearing clumps of greenery out of the earth had been no less time consuming than ripping old copies of the Times into strips, it was, at least, a chance to get out of the house.

Seeing Kurt, he stopped, taking in the array of paraphernalia surrounding the boy with an air of bemusement. "Dare I ask what went on here?"

[likesboys]

Glancing up with a grin, Kurt shrugged a shoulder, holding a sword in his palm to get a better feel for its weight. The last thing that he wanted to do was to fumble in front of someone who had a sharp eye, and as far as his friends on the island went, Francis was just about at the top of that particular list. Hesitantly, he began twirling the sword in one hand, wondering if he could manage two at once; they were heavier than those he used at home.

"Oh, nothing much," he replied. "I was just soaking in a bit of sun on the trampoline, and all of a sudden, I open my eyes from a brief daydream to find all of this spread out around me. I'm assuming it's one of the January gifts, seeing as how I had a pair of swords like these at home. The harnesses are... a little less familiar, admittedly."

[phoinikothrix]

Francis tracked the silver flash of the object in Kurt's hand; the practiced twist of the other young man's wrist, the deftness of his fingers similar to and yet completely unlike Charles' idle pencil twirling in class back home.

"This was your gift?" he said after a moment, a gentle laugh of disbelief in his voice. "I obviously didn't get on the island's good side this year--all it gave me was a pet."

[likesboys]

"All it gave you? My my, not a pet person then, I suppose," Kurt remarked with a wrinkle of his nose, moving the sword a bit more deftly as he grew accustomed to having it in his palm, the handle warm from prolonged contact. "Not that I can blame you— I never had a special inclination to adopt a pet or anything of the sort when I was a child. I was probably the only person in my class who could look at a fur pelt and not feel a single thing for whatever animal had given itself up to become high fashion."

With a soft exhale, Kurt brought the sword back to his palm with a final slap, glad that the blade wasn't sharp as he closed his fingers around it, slowly lowering the sword back to the trampoline.

"But then at Dalton, our glee club had this mascot, a canary, and as the newest member, it was my responsibility to take care of him. And... before I knew it, I was honestly kind of endeared."

[phoinikothrix]

"I'm finding that out myself," Francis replied, surprising himself at the ease at which the admission fell from his lips. "The most I'd ever thought about rabbits before was as an integral part of my mother's winter wardrobe, but now..." he trailed off, casting a wry look down at the basket hooked around his arm. "Now I'm finding bedding for one, and reading up on what to feed him. God help us both."

[likesboys]

"Then you do care beyond its fashion worth," Kurt grinned broadly, taking the liberty of leaning over to nudge the other young man lightly in the side. He preferred it when people had a nurturing side to them, and although Kurt didn't think that bunnies made it particularly hard to invoke that side of a person, it was still something that he viewed as positive, overall. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly a fan of PETA and I don't see anything wrong with wearing an animal's fur— although I do think that it's dumb to hunt them down when we have such advanced synthetic materials, pleather, fake fur— but the animals themselves are cute. I have no problem taking them under my wing."

Shoulders shrugging, Kurt shook his head lightly, eyes twinkling with mischief. "The question is, have you given him a name?"