Earlier today...
The door closes lightly behind Sherwood as he reenters his new dorm room. While a little messy from unpacking this morning, it's a good size room. Bigger than he had at home, up in the attic. Then again, he wasn't sharing that room with three others. With the others still out on the campus, the room held nothing to keep him from continuing his train of thought he's been on since this morning. Idly noting to himself he's rarely so introspective, he sits down at his desk.
He could accept being made a leader. He had fairly quickly, though Sherwood was positive he was the most surprised of ASPN. He didn't know what the headmaster, or headmistress, or well, anyone at Beacon must have saw. Sherwood's worked alone all his life. Even in his training to be ready for Beacon, his mentor Graham didn't so much work with him as throw him into danger with a bow he can barely pull. Sherwood's face quirks in amusement at the memory.
But this is Beacon. they must be able to see something. If they just voted amongst themselves, or worse, randomly selected there's no way the school would still be standing. Sherwood has to believe there was a reason. He opens a desk drawer, taking out a small block of wood. He draws his hunting knife from it's sheath and begins to whittle at the wood.
His mind free to wander as his hands settle into the familiar action, he thinks about the real problem. He doesn't know what to do as a leader. Not only did he work alone in the past, but he was rarely around anyone who'd go so far to call themselves a leader. Graham had the potential, but Sherwood never saw him take charge at anything. The only other face that comes to mind is the village chief. Now, to be fair, a political leader certainly isn't the same as a leader of Huntsman. Sherwood wouldn't say those have overlapping skill sets. But a leader has to be a leader right?
The chief was the kind of of guy who had a hand in everything. He was involved at every opportunity in everything. When the trading post was having issues with a supply chain, the chief organized a fix with the supplier. They didn't even need to ask, the chief was just on top of it. Sherwood hums. That's a good sum up to the man. He was on top of everything, and nothing escaped his notice. It gave him the appearance of someone whose incredibly organized. Not only with his own life, but organized in his dealings with the people in his care.
He turns the block of wood in his hand, rounding the other side as he just did the first. The chief was the first person to come to mind last night, as Sherwood thought over what he was supposed to do this morning as a leader. He wrote down everything he knew of his teammate's weapons and tried to summarize their fighting. He recorded semblances he knew. Then he considered how those weapons would work best individually. If the gears of the machine are in their element, won't the machine work the best it can? He stretches his arms around the back of the chair, rolling his shoulders at the same time.
At the very least, they did something. Let it be said ASPN didn't come out of the gates doing nothing, sitting around waiting to be eaten alive. The orders he gave were apparently passible, since there was no objection to them at the start. They did fine against the Grimm in the lecture. Sherwood had no expectation they'd work perfectly together on their first team fight.
But things fell apart against people. It was his job to lead them through that scenario, but he was under prepared. He never thought about how to coordinate people against people. Why would he have? And that's just the case. He sighs. He's never going to know what he and his team are fighting ahead of time. Not really. Unlike with the village chief, who can just call ahead to see the problem and worst comes to worst he has to wait a day to fix it while he gathers information, people's lives are on the line here. This line of thinking fails with missing information of even worse, with wrong information. What Sherwood's figured out in the last few hours of mulling this all over is he doesn't want to lead like the chief. But then, what to do? He places the wooden cylinder he carved on his desk. He takes another block and starts whittling.
Sherwood rattles through his meager friends and family in his mind. No one comes to mind as someone to take inspiration from. Even... actually, well he could look at the Professor, Suntalia and Savas. Savas, well... He seemed a bit like a loner. Maybe not Savas. Suntalia... well, he can learn more about her later at dinner. But Professor Oberon. He definitely agreed with what Sherwood's discovered for himself, that he's going into this with lives in his hands. If Sherwood were to share with the older man, he's sure the Professor would agree planning based off of information Sherwood doesn't have is foolish. How can he lay out plans and guide the team without all the information? It seems like a catch twenty two. He looks down at his block. He did a more on the center than he intended. Granted he intended to split the block in the first place, make two equal squares...
Oh. What Professor Oberon said about listening to the team. Maybe what he meant was that his teammates were his sources of information. They can fill in the blanks, seeing the information that he doesn't. That must be why teams work as teams. If Sherwood can't gather all the information, whatever information that may be, his team will do the remaining.
Knife and block forgotten, Sherwood grabs a notebook and pencil. So how would a leader get all that information? Even if Sherwood knew what he was looking for, he still has to communicate with three teammates in a possibly very short time frame. It's not like they can sit down and talk it through. He taps the eraser against the desk at the thought. He wasn't much of a talker. Loathe as he was to do it, Sherwood goes back to the village chief. How would he get information? Surveys, census. Custer from the general store always seemed to have something he was writing up for the chief. Maybe that's how he can do it. If he can find a sample at the library, or maybe a stationary store on the way to Vale it will be all the easier. Any reference point on figuring what he's supposed to be doing has to be helpful. Grabbing his knife and sheathing it on the back of his belt he heads out of the room. He's still confused, to be honest with himself. What he's trying to do completely escapes him. But at least he's doing something. Something has to better than sitting around.
Sherwood walks down another street of Vale city, at anything but the pace of the city dwellers around him. People flow around him like water around a log in a river. Dressed in his usual flannel and jeans, the only other thing on his person is a manila folder with a paper binding around it keeping it sealed shut.
Sherwood's never doubted his sense of direction before, but sprawling streets are quite different from the open sea of trees he's used to. He'll find out on the return trip if the skill carries over. If not... well, he's not in a rush to return.
Sherwood's gaze falls on building to building, taking a moment to taken in each of the the dozens, if not hundreds of different stores in the big city. Coming from a town with a single general store, the fact that an entire store could be dedicated to watches, or hair accessories amazes him. It's not that he didn't know so much variety existed, they certainly got the mail order catalogs out on the edge of the kingdom. It's so impressive just to see all the variety in such a small space. Including all the places to eat.
"..." Just as Sherwood begins to doubt he'll ever find the shop he's looking for, he stumbles upon a window with his team and Suntalia at a table inside. The bell jingles on the door as he steps instead, nodding in the direction of his teammates as acknowledgement.
"Ah suppose Ah'm late then. Ah got Ah little turned around out in the city." he says sheepishly, sitting down. "What'd Ah miss?"
Topic: An Electrifying Dinner of Ramen Woodles [CLOSED] [Team ASPN] (Read 9796 times)