[hider=Hannie and Carroman Mini-RP]
[sup]Discord dialogue between Sniblet as Hannie and Manperor as Carroman from "#Sison Auditorium Barracks (Present)"[/sup]

[b]Hannie[/b]

More than one mistake is made in quick sequence.
The first was Carroman's; startling an Arms Master awake from striking distance is very rarely wise. Hannie is particularly volatile at this moment, given she is in the middle of, firstly, a nightmare about her least favorite thing in the world, and secondly, the second worst day of her life.

The second mistake is Hannie's. Hers is doing exactly what you should expect her to do in these conditions.
Her movement is fast and clumsy, reflexive and half-awake. With a yelp and a soft [i]pop[/i] of suddenly declining air pressure, the frosty dagger that had just crossed Carroman's mind is instantly between them, in Hannie's hand as she raises them up to cover her face - quickly bringing the blade toward the underside of Carroman's right arm as he finishes with that first mistake.

We all make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes get our forearms slashed, or almost slashed, by a 14-year-old girl. This time, hopefully it's "almost": even Arms Masters don't quite brush off frostbite. 

[b]Carroman[/b]

Carroman moved back as he saw the blade flash before his eyes, sighing as he did. The dragon headed cane shone with a warm, brilliant glow, though his expression was anything but. 

"Well, well, sorry about that, did I startle you?" Carroman shook his head, putting one hand on his back as it ached somewhat. "What are you... eh, doing up here?"


[b]Hannie[/b]

Hannie blinks. She glances to her weapon, then to Carroman. She flinches and drops the dagger, and it blinks out of being just short of landing in her lap.
"I'm sorry," she says, "I'm so sorry, ah... am- am I not supposed to be here? I can sleep somewhere else..."
If it weren't for Dragonstaff's reflected glow, there would be no light at all in Hannie's eyes. 

[b]Carroman[/b]

Carroman could see it. Hannie had those dead eyes, belonging to someone who wasn't allowed to grow up properly. A child that was forced to grow up too fast, and then exposed to the horrors of war.  He'd know. If combat could mentally scar even hardy veterans, how much more would it do to literal kids?

"I guess the others didn't bother to bring you along to the beach," Carroman answered, sitting down. "Not that kids of your age should be going out to war. The fact that you're out here and not with, I don't know, your families, is a failure of epic proportions. Though I guess the existence of war is a failure in every way. Anyway, I just want to know. Why do you, you know, always doze off?"


[b]Hannie[/b]

"...always... doze off?"
[i]Has[/i] she been sleeping a lot? Even if he didn't catch her going to the beach with the rest, maybe this man's been paying more attention to her in some ways than she has to herself?
She did sleep for most of the truck ride. And for a little while after they got settled in the barracks. But if she's still sleeping now, isn't that just because Kirvella's drained her?

"Well, I guess I... don't really... wanna be awake?"
That's not quite what she was planning to say. It feels bad, like a confession. She looks down into her lap, trying to sort out her own meaning.
"Sorry," she says, to be safe. "You're... um... mister Caravan?"

[b]Carroman[/b]

"Carroman," the chaplain corrected, before nodding. "Well, it might not be wise to not be awake now, when the mountains themselves are shaking. Apparently we got some A classes attacking."


[b]Hannie[/b]

"Carroman. Yeah."
The energy Hannie woke up with has slipped away again. Again her gaze falls from his face, and slowly trails down to somewhere around his left knee. She sits unmoving, hands folded in her lap.
"I... saw."

[b]Carroman[/b]

The chaplain nodded his head, visibly concerned. The exact reason why Hannie slept so much still eluded him. Was she anemic? Did her Noble Arm drain so much energy that it forces her to a sleepy state? Or was she just like that?

"Well... ah, damn. They're calling for healing. I have to go. Are you absolutely sure that you want to stay here? Instead of... you know, the barracks."

[b]Hannie[/b]

The numb expression on her face could indeed just be sleepiness, but a man who's been doing what Carroman's been doing has seen a lot of expressions like it recently. The charred holes in her jacket, the bullet wound-shaped icy circles in her shoulders, together seem to indicate that she's already been to the beach.
"I prefer the quiet up here," she says, softly.

And then, outside, a mountain uproots itself, and it is no longer quiet.
[/hider]