Shoujo FTH

Bubbles!

Not to be mistaken with Bubbles McJuju.	55.0%	[ 11 ]
There are no crossdressing hookers here.	45.0%	[ 9 ]
Total Votes:			[ 20 ]

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

It's like FTH, but with bubbles,
and the fangirls don't even pretend to hide.

This is a private RP for faifai, frosty, clompy, and chichi!
If you are not them, begone!

OOC

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

נσηαтнαη вєηηєтт

Soft footsteps thudded lightly down the stairs as the dark-haired young man stumbled down to breakfast, eyes dazed and sleepy above his giraffe-print pajamas. The boy flopped down at the kitchen table automatically, making it to his chair only out of years of habit. Every morning he was the same – too groggy and not at all awake until he’d eaten, and even then his intelligence was questionable for the first hour or two of the day. While the boy was very smart indeed, a certain awareness was required for his intelligence to be of much use.

A glass of juice and a plate of food were placed in front of him, a slightly glazed indigo eyes briefly rested on the woman who had put it there. His mother. Jonathan adored his mother – could even be called a bit of a momma’s boy, with as much time as he’d spent with her growing up. It was from her that he’d learned to do many things: cook, knit, origami – a hobby he adored – to name a few. And the woman spoiled him in turn, though it was safe to say the dark-haired boy was lovingly spoiled in general, and though the boy was a little bratty at times as a result, his personality hadn’t suffered much otherwise. Cheerful and bright, the boy generally made friends wherever he went. . . if he worked himself past his shyness first. Truth be told, Jonathan Bennett didn’t have a lot of friends. He’d been sick a lot – especially when he was younger – having the bothersome tendency to catch every little bug that went around. Underdeveloped emotionally as well as physically, he had never related well to kids his own age, and having reached an age where most boys were getting interested in girls as more than merely friends or playmates, the boy would find it even harder to connect with those his own age – and older, given that though he ought to have been a freshman that year, he was taking mostly sophomore classes.

Still, he was excited. A new school. New things to learn. And best of all, he would be in school with his brother, Nate. No more being walked to school. Now he would be walking with the older boy, and if there was ever something he needed, there was someone guaranteed around that he could trust to help him. There was no better feeling.

Plate and glass emptied, the boy bolted back up the stairs, having spotted the time on the nearby kitchen clock and achieved enough alertness to realize just how much time he had left to get ready for school. Having taken a bath the night before, he was spared having to worry about one aspect of being ready. He changed quickly, donning a t-shirt and jeans before doing a little dance outside the bathroom while he waited his turn to brush his teeth. Washing his face helped to wake him up further, and by the time the boy had slowed down enough to think leisurely again, he was by the front door, a jean jacket zipped up over his turtle tee and his school back sitting next to him as he pulled on and tied his faded tennis shoes. Almost ready to go!

“Nate nate nate nate!” he called insistently, ducking his mother’s hands as the woman tried to smooth his still-ruffled hair. Finally locating the other boy, he let him take the lead, falling into a comfortable silence as he captured his hand and they walked along. Nate was even worse than he was in the mornings. Definitely not much for conversation. Jonathan hoped they had lunch together so he could talk to him then. Wouldn’t that be cool?

Maybe Nate wouldn’t think so, but surely the older boy wouldn’t refuse to talk to him just to look cool in front of his friends. That wasn’t Nate. Nate was the best.

Parting from the older boy at the school interest with the assurance that he remembered where his locker was – in the sophomore section, to his dismay, which meant he wouldn’t know anybody around him – the boy darted off to put his bag away. He was here early enough to track the freshman section back down and see if Jezzie was here yet, right? He wondered if he had any classes with her. He had tested out of most of the freshman level requirements, of course, but there were still things like art and Phys Ed where that wasn’t really possible. And, of course, they could still hang out during lunch (if they had the same lunch schedule) and after school, couldn’t they? They had known each other so long, he knew his mother wouldn’t care if she came by, and it wasn’t like she didn’t live nearby.

Eyes wide as he took everything in, the dark-haired boy tucked his bag into the tiny locker that had been assigned to him, retrieving a notebook and pen to carry with him to class. Retrieving his reading glasses from where they had been shoved in his jacket pocket, he left the jean jacket behind as well, pulling his schedule out from its pockets and glancing at it as he pushed the locker door closed. Maybe he should go remind himself where some of his classes were before looking for Jezzie. Or at least his homeroom. He could ask teachers for directions for the rest, right? Letsee, homeroom. Homeroom was also his math teacher, who he had again later in the day. Was that classroom up the north hallway or one of those few strangely wedged upstairs? Could he find his locker again if he went wandering around to find out? He frowned down at the paper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gaze lifted and he looked down the hallway over his glasses.

He supposed there was no time better than the present to find out. If he got lost, someone would help him, right? If the students were mean, he could always ask a teacher. Teachers always loved him. And even if he managed to find the one exception to that, well. . . the teacher could just deal. They were paid to deal to be here, after all.

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I do not love the brightest sword for its sharpness,
nor the arrow for it's swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory.
I love only that which they defend.

[Luxury Starshine]

______M I C A H ► c a m e r o n

w h i t e c o u r t ◄ V A M P I R E_______

Micah had originally thought that Lyle was a blessing. When his parents had died from being hit by a car walking home, he and Esther had been put in the foster system. It was true, Jews were normally very community centered, it was normal that another local family would have taken them in, but his father had just gotten a new job and they'd just been settling into the area, so the truth of the matter had been that no one had known about them to claim them.

The foster system had not fit well with Micah. Unlike his sister, he did not adjust well to living in a non-Jewish household that refused to understand that milk and meat were not allowed to touch, let alone anything else about his religion. Esther had tried to convince him to change, she had, to adjust, but Micah couldn't. Unlike her, he was religious, very much so...he just couldn't adjust to living like that, and that was just the food, it didn't even encompass the lack of love and greed of money every foster home he went to had. Most people didn't do this out of the good of their hearts. They did it to get the stipend. What was worse was that the foster system didn't always keep siblings together, and eventually, he and Esther were separated.

That was where Lyle came in.

Lyle, despite being young and beautiful, came and adopted him. He said he was lonely and forgetful, and needed someone around the house to keep him straight. Micah didn't mind that, it gave him a sense of purpose, and Lyle had no objection to spending whatever amounts of money on all the dishes and harder to find foods for kosher eating. Home was better, food was better, even school was better, even though he still had no friends. For two years, Micah had found himself quite content with Lyle. Lyle let him live how he wanted, and Lyle adjusted himself at times too...

And then...there'd been that.

Micah rubbed at his neck, just over the spot he knew the man had bitten him. He'd always known somewhere deep down that Lyle was weird. He had weird habits, went out at weird hours of the night, slept for most of the day...Micah had known there was probably something a little off, but vampire was nothing he would have ever guessed at. It was something he would have never guessed, but it was the truth...and now Micah was one of them too. Like foster homes, Micah wasn't adjusting well. He had to drink blood, a huge kosher no-no, and he had to do this, and that, and that other thing... And Micah's entire personality had changed, it seemed. He was just so different that it sometimes repulsed him to think about.

His entire life had been turned upside down. He'd run away from Lyle, and now, using means he would have never even dreamed of using before, he was basically living in the attic of an abandoned house, and had forged and tricked his way into a new school, which would be starting today. If there was one thing Micah did not want to do five days a week, it was be up during the daytime, but the fact was that he needed to do it. He wanted to graduate. He had three years to go yet.

Three years of this...Micah didn't want to think about it. So much time...

He sighed, pushing himself up and beginning to, with his eyes half closed, pull on his school clothes, clean his teeth, eat an apple he'd checked thoroughly, and then grab his bag. Once he was sure he had everything he'd need for school, he clambered out of the old attic and lowered himself carefully to the ground. Micah took care to make sure that no one was looking to see him, after all, if officials knew there was a adolescent running around in attics without supervision...Well. Micah didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to go back to Lyle, not anymore.

The walk to school seemed both long and brief at the same time, simultaneously feeling like he was both ready and not ready to be there when he stepped through the doors. His locker was... he dug through his bag, pulling out the paper with all that information on it and then followed the number to his. The vampire placed all his possessions in their proper place, took out everything he thought he would need for first hour...but where was first hour?

Staring hard at the piece of paper in his hand, Micah clicked his locker door shut. He supposed he would just have to make the rounds to find it, like he had with his locker...

Micah began that path, heading around the school, and had hit just about the halfway point when he caught up with a boy peering over reading glasses ( cute ) at a paper of his own. Even though he was in the same position and wasn't a freshman, Micah assumed the boy was, and was probably useless for information, but, perhaps, since the boy was also looking for a room, he'd already passed the one Micah was looking for, and could send him properly on his way. Maybe in return, he could help the boy too.

It was worth a shot... "Hey! Hey!" Micah flagged the cute child down, and put on his most friendly smile, something, Micah couldn't help but notice, was something he would have never done a month before. He would have avoided everyone else on principal, and kept looking for his class on his own, even if it caused him to be late. "Excuse me, but do you know which direction this class is in?" He adjusted his smile to be earnest, and turned the paper, so the boy could see the classroom in question.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

נσηαтнαη вєηηєтт

Jonathan started forward, glancing between the numbers of nearby classrooms and the schedule in his hands, as though, somehow, the number he was looking for might change if he didn’t continue checking. He seemed to be going the general right direction. . . until he turned a corner to find a jump in numbers. Great. It couldn’t be easy, could it?

He looked to his left, stepped forward again, but paused at the sound of a nearby voice calling out. He turned toward it to see a blond boy motioning to him. He frowned, flushed slightly, and with an uncertain glance back at his schedule, started toward the other boy. After a moment, he managed a smile to echo the blond’s, though his was rather less comfortable. Friendly enough, but shy.

The paper was held out to him, and the dark-haired boy moved just close enough to read it, nodding slightly at the question, though he very much doubted he could help. Jonathan didn’t know this place any better than he did. Maybe he should have stuck to his brother and had the older boy help him find things.

“Oh!” The boy’s smile widened slightly, strangely pleased at the coincidence. He held out his own schedule with both hands, moving only slightly closer. “Look!” For there, in the very first slot on the dark-haired boy’s schedule, was the same classroom the blond was looking for.

“I can’t find it, either,” he admitted softly. Well, maybe can’t was a little strong. He hadn't exactly searched the entire school so far. “Not yet, anyway. We could ask a teacher if we need to, though, right?” He stared at the blond hopefully. He was a real sophomore, right? He had seen his schedule. He had sophomore classes. That meant, even if he apparently didn’t know where everything was, he at least knew a teacher or two, right?

The dark-haired boy bounced slightly on his feet as he waited for the blond to speak. He’d know what to do if they couldn’t find it! Or maybe they could look together and there it would be! Maybe. . .

“OH!” He withdrew his schedule before slowly holding out a hand again, flushing anew. Maybe he should introduce himself. What kind of idiot didn't introduce himself? Though, of course, hugs were better hellos, but then, you didn’t just hug someone you didn’t know! Jonathan didn't even like to talk to people he didn't know very much. . . at least if he iniated the conversation. “I’m Jonathan.” He managed another (though clearly forced) smile, hoping the blond would give his own name as well, and without having to be asked. Hoping he'd not have a negative reaction to this encounter going differently than he'd no doubt imagined, at the very least.

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I do not love the brightest sword for its sharpness,
nor the arrow for it's swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory.
I love only that which they defend.

[Luxury Starshine]

______M I C A H ► c a m e r o n

w h i t e c o u r t ◄ V A M P I R E_______

The boy was shy. It was cute, and it made Micah inadvertently grinned. It wasn't something he would have grinned at before, being so shy himself, but he found it just...cute from this boy. Not only was the boy shy and cute, but he was willing to help, even through his shyness.. a trait that Micah himself prized. To be a good person, you had to help other people, even if you were afraid to...

But the boy frowned, and didn't seem to be able to help, and it was true that he couldn't, but, he did seem pleasantly surprised, and when he offered his own schedule, Micah twisted his neck to look, and grinned even wider, "Well! Would you look at that..." They were looking for the same room, no wonder the boy wouldn't be of any help. He chuckled good naturedly, and leaned back. He'd thought the boy a freshman, but apparently not. Looks could be deceiving...by now Micah thought he should know that after Lyle and everything...but no, even now he could be tricked.

The boy asked as to whether or not they could ask a teacher for help if they couldn't find it, and Micah's smile faded before he quickly shrugged. "I don't know. This is my first day here. Ever. I've..." The happy facade faded, as he tried to think of how to explain it. He knew what he'd been going to tell everyone who asked, and it was only a half lie. He'd been in the foster system for a while, and had just moved here after being one of the few children to be adopted that wasn't a baby or toddler. But...that was too personal, Micah thought. "I just moved near here." Simple enough, right? No one would ask more than that, other than perhaps where he came from. "You would think you could ask a teacher though, right?" The smile returned to his face, and he nodded as though to reassure himself.

"Micah," the vampire replied kindly to the boy's introduction, eagerly taking his hand and shaking it firmly, but gently. He still wasn't sure of his exact strength parameters, where did human strength end and his vampiric strength begin? "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jonathan." And if the boy kept acting so sweet and shy, but nice, it really would be, or so Micah hoped. "Do you think we should look for our homeroom together?"

[chihari the Kiwi]

JEZZIE DARLING

"Jezzie... Jezzie... You need to get up... Jezzie!"

Jezzie groaned and rolled over, ignoring the insistent voice of her ten-year-old brother Claude. She didn't want to get up yet. Why couldn't summer last forever? Suddenly a cold nose found its way into her ear, and with a yelp she sat bolt upright, sending the Emperor tumbling with an indignant yowl and Claude to jump backwards to avoid being headbutted. She and Claude stared at each other for a few seconds, Jezzie blinking blearily.

"Breakfast is ready," Claude reported, and waited until she started to kick the blankets off before trotting out of the room. After freeing herself from her blankets, Jezzie rolled to the floor with a thump. She lay there for a moment, trying to muster the will to get up, until she felt a weight settle on her shoulder and small but sharp teeth find their way to her ear. Finally she heaved herself to her feet, pulled on a short, frilly white dress, black leggings, and a dark purple headband, and thumped out her bedroom door.

Going down the stairs and into the kitchen, she grabbed a plate out of the cupboard and scooped some hash browns and sausages out of the pans on the stove. Joinining her two younger brothers at the kitchen table, she ruffled Virgil's hair and accepted the ketchup Claude thrust at her, squeezing it over her pile of hash browns. She had three older siblings too, but they had moved out years ago.

"Are you two okay walking to school by yourselves?" she asked, eyeing them in concern when they'd finished breakfast and were stacking their dishes in the sink. Both boys rolled their eyes at her question and informed her that they were ten and twelve, and most certainly did not need to be escorted to school by their big sister. She giggled, kissed them both on the cheek, grabbed her backpack, and then the two groups went their separate ways.

Jezzie approached the school slowly, examining it curiously. This would be her first time inside an actual high school, and she was a little nervous. What if the older students bullied her, like Vivian had told her they would? Then again, Vivian had said the same thing when she entered middle school, and she'd never had any problems. So maybe she should just disregard that warning.

Finding her way to her locker amidst a wave of other freshmen, she attempted to open it. After six tries another student took pity on her and helped her get it open, pointing out that she'd gotten the first and second numbers in her combination mixed up. Oops. Thanking the kindly boy, she pulled her schedule, a binder, and her sparkly purple pencil case out of her hot-pink backpack decorated with bat and rainbow stickers and string voodoo dolls attached with carabiners to her straps, before shoving the backpack into her locker. It was lucky that closing a locker was so much easier than opening it.

Picking up her stuff from where she'd set it on the ground, she pulled her schedule out from under her pencil case and shook it to unfold it, scanning it for her homeroom number. When she located it on the paper, she set out to locate it in the building. She had absolutely no idea where anything was, but hey, she still had time before class started. Plenty of time for exploring!

Wandering aimlessly around, she found the Home Ec room, the art room, and the nurse's office, but not her homeroom. Halting in front of the nurse's office, she put her hands on her hips and puffed out her cheeks in frustration. Where was her homeroom? She had to get there before class started. Mama would be very displeased with her if teachers complained about her being late.

Well... she supposed she could ask the school nurse. She eyed the door thoughtfully. She -or he- probably knew the way around the school, and could point her in the right direction. What could it hurt? Approaching the door, she knocked to warn them in case they were doing something questionable (she'd had the unfortunate experience of walking in on that in middle school), then pushed it open.

"Excuse me? Could you give me directions to my homeroom please?" she called into the room, hoping someone was there, clutching her schedule to her chest.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

נσηαтнαη вєηηєтт

Jonathan beamed at the other boy’s positive response, genuinely relieved that the blond hadn’t reacted in a disappointed or angry way when he’d found him unable to help. Not that the dark-haired boy often got such reactions. People were usually nice, he found, but he was more than usually shy. He was never quite convinced that meeting new people was going to go well until it actually did.

“Well, it’s my first day, too!” he agreed in what was meant to be an encouraging way, though the boy sounded more excited just to have something in common with him than anything. “I was supposed to be a freshman, but I tested out of some classes.” He grinned, for a moment looking mischievous at the admission. Testing out of classes was great fun, he thought. He liked having something to study for, and he really liked the results. He just hoped it didn’t mean the older kids in his new classes would treat him weirdly. Or be mean. That would be terrible. “My brother goes here!” he added happily, a fount of information once he’d realized the other boy was nice. “But he’s not a morning person,” he added conspiratorially, answering the unasked question of why he hadn’t just forced the older boy to help him find everything. Cranky Morning Nate was not to be messed with. Jonathan knew that well. He would wait until the morning monster was gone to attack his beloved brother with affection.

Momentarily, he frowned, considering the option of asking a teacher. He didn’t know any of them, of course, though. . . he’d met the basketball coach once before, since Nate was on the team and he’d often gone with his mother to pick him up from practice. But Jonathan didn’t know what the man taught – probably some kind of history class, or maybe gym, if he thought about it – so unless they happened to stumble upon him, it didn’t do much good having met him before. But it had to be safer to ask a teacher than another student, right? They at least wouldn’t play practical jokes.

The dark-haired boy’s expression brightened again as the blond shook his hand and offered his name. Did that mean he’d made a friend already? This was so exciting. Jonathan couldn’t wait to introduce him to Jezzie. Surely they’d get along well, too!

“Yes, let’s look together!” he agreed happily, automatically starting to reach for the other boy’s hand. Realizing what he was doing halfway through the motion, the boy jerked his hand away as his cheeks flushed, doing a little spin to point in the direction he’d been heading. “I haven’t looked this way yet!” he suggested, his voice almost falsely bright after the err. “And if we don’t find it, then we can ask a teacher?”

Surely it would be over in that section of the school, though, right? And maybe he’d find the nurse’s office that way, too. He needed to know where that was sooner rather than later. It was better to already know than try to find it when he was sick. He’d already learned that the hard way in Junior High. And who knew when the first bug would be going around? All he knew is he’d probably be catching it, and it was better to know where things were before that happened.

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I do not love the brightest sword for its sharpness,
nor the arrow for it's swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory.
I love only that which they defend.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

● ● Anluan ● ●
【 feeling: pleased | with: a pretty | status: assessing 】

Anluan smiled as he watched the children move past his door. He loved the beginning of a new school year, when everything was still fresh. He loved seeing the new students in his halls, all the possibilities. He loved seeing the older students again, many of whom he’d either forgotten about or not yet noticed. After all, his scope in this school was fairly limited. He was the school nurse. He mostly only saw students that had been ill or injured, though he attended most athletic events with a sort of fervor that implied a much stronger dedication to his job than actually existed.

The vampire loved athletes. They were the most fun. They had such. . . endurance. Yet it wasn’t always his type. It had been years since he’d singled someone out here, years since he’d been obsessed enough for the risk to be worth it, finding his entertainment and his food among the drunken and terminally depressed in a bar in a nearby town. He smirked. He’d given more than one pathetic excuse for a human being a new lease on life, to say the least, as he didn’t kill as often as he used to. It was too suspicious, when you stayed in one place, and he even had had some instincts for self-preservation.

As the school nurse, the vampire had of course had actual training, though the job itself wasn’t why he’d chosen to work here. He’d seen it as an opportunity. A hunting grounds, though more often than not, as long as the students were in these walls they were perfectly safe. Oh, there were those he still thought of years later and eventually hunted down wherever their lives had taken them. Every now and then, he met someone he just couldn’t wait to acquire. And occasionally there were snackies, though never enough to seriously endanger his meal. He liked working here too much to push too very hard. The students here were so very lovely to look at, to be around. They were so very. . . young.

The dark-haired man flopped into his floofy desk swivel chair, hazel-hued eyes focusing on the mess of papers on the desk in front of him. He had to finish getting his files in order today. Every year, there was always a handful who didn’t get all their vaccination paperwork in until the very last minute. It was an irritation, but at least it was something to do. He had a habit of memorizing the medical records of his students, especially the ones that were either in often or particularly charming to him. He could still remember the first – James Collins. Blonde, with these magnificent eyes that were never quite blue or green. Blood Type 0-. A severe strawberry allergy, but generally healthy otherwise. An athlete, of course, though the lean young man had shown a preference for soccer. He’d had such potential.

A beautiful young man, and he’d known it. . . and from the moment the vampire had seen him, he’d been fascinated. For four years he’d watched him, and for another he’d waited as the blond had moved on with his life. And then one day, a promising young police officer had disappeared, and the dark-haired vampire had finally had his fun. He sighed happily, closing his eyes as he remembered it. That first one had always been his favourite, though there were others he’d loved nearly as much. But no one had screamed quite like him. . .

His eyes flickered back open at a knock on his door, and he quickly blinked away the images lingering in his mind as he turned his chair to look at to the girl addressing him. She was pretty – very pretty, in fact – and her frilly clothes and feminine colours only served to enhance the effect. In another setting, she might have found herself in danger of losing more than a few minutes of her time. Though here, of course, she was perfectly safe. . . for now.

“Yes?” Anluan smiled warmly, the expression almost a little too perfect to quite feel real, as he gracefully stood and moved over to where the girl hovered in the doorway. “Let’s see where you’re heading, then.” He held out one slender hand, waiting for the paper to be handed over, and allowing his fingers to brush hers in a seemingly harmless accident as he took the paper.

“You’re not very far at all,” he commented gently, leaning slightly forward to gesture down the hallway, his long white coat flaring to brush against her slightly. “See that cluster of lockers there? You’ll want to pass those and take a right at the next hallway. . . and then it will be a few doors down on your left.” Still smiling, he offered the piece of paper back, waiting benignly for her too take it.

“If you have any more questions, I’m sure your homeroom teacher can answer them for you,” he added sweetly, refusing to call the specific teacher in question by name. The teachers here were suckers. For the most part, they liked him, and a few of them. . . a little too much. Not that he could blame him. He was one attractive specimen, and the part he played here no doubt enhanced that. But he preferred to be vague and aloof when it came to them. They made funnier assumptions that way. And he didn’t want to get too close to them, anyway. He couldn’t afford to get too attached. If teachers started disappearing. . . that would be too much.

Besides, most of them were ugly. Old. Interacting with students was so very much more fun.

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My poor heart aches
with every step you take !

[Luxury Starshine]

______M I C A H ► c a m e r o n

w h i t e c o u r t ◄ V A M P I R E_______

It seemed that the boy's, Jonathan's, shyness was not something he tried to keep visible at all times once you were on a first name basis, or found that the person he was talking to wasn't really going to just bite his head off for he seemed to grow more openly excited almost immediately...it wasn't much, but it was enough of a change that Micah got information out of it. So the boy really was a freshman, but he'd tested out of some classes. "Well," Micah said with teasingly narrowed eyes, his hand lightly reaching out and ruffling the boy's fine hair, "Aren't you a smart one!" He certainly didn't look it, which was a compliment, rather than an insult. Smart people always seemed to look disheveled, or had tons of zits, uneven skin...and usually very thick rimmed glasses. It seemed no one ever spoke to those people, so they gathered amongst themselves creating their own little clique. Micah was not someone people had spoken to, but he was not a part of that clique either...it was like he'd always been too far in the gray area for either side.

...So, the boy had a brother, probably a year or two older, maybe three, so why didn't...ah. The boy answered the question before it had even fully formulated itself in the vampire's brain. Said brother was not a morning person, and as such was not one to be bothered until about lunchtime...probably. Micah could relate. Pretending to be a morn--day person was taking just about all he had, though, admittedly, the presence of a cute boy wasn't hurting his mood in the least.

The boy was more than cute, Micah decided as Jonathan's eyes seemed to glow and sparkle at the agreement he was giving him. He was really excited about this, and it was absolutely adorable. The boy even started to reach out and grab his hand, but stopped halfway through. Some people might not have even noticed the awkward motions, but Micah's sharp eyes definitely caught it. Adorable. The slightly flustered child pointed in one direction, saying he hadn't looked off that way yet, and Micah nodded. "All right," he said in a lenient way, moving to walk next to Jonathan's side.

His hand subtly slid is and cupped the other's, and he leaned over to whisper in other other male's ear, "And if you want to hold my hand, hold my hand. I'm not going to be prissy about it." The vampire then gave Jonathan's hand a quick squeeze and let go. Really. What was the big deal? Because they were both men? So what? Girls held hands all the time. So what if it was manlier to not make contact. Have you ever noticed that overly manly men tend to get killed in things like...oh...Micah didn't know...fights? In fact, for Micah, it was better in the eyes of his religion to hold a man's hand. As long as they weren't romantically involved, it was far, far more legal to hold a boy's hand than a girl's hand...

...But back to looking for homeroom...

[chihari the Kiwi]

JEZZIE DARLING

Jezzie smiled. So there was someone here! Lucky! Now hopefully she would find her homeroom in short order. “Hello. I'm really sorry to bother you,” she said. It was the first day, surely the nurse had better things to do than aid pathetically lost freshmen.

The nurse was a young man with black hair, and, as Jezzie noticed as her gaze honed in on him when he approached, extremely beautiful. In fact, he was probably one of the hottest men she'd ever seen. She swallowed and blushed nervously, but managed a shy smile as she held out the paper in her hands. “Thank you, I've been wandering around for so long trying to find it. I'm really glad you were in here,” she said.

As she passed the paper to him, his fingers brushed against hers, causing her to blush even more deeply. “Oh?” she said, turning to look in the direction he pointed, feeling his coat brush against her legs and trying to pay attention to what he was saying all while her head felt like it was going to explode. “Lockers... right... left,” she repeated under her breath, as though trying to prove to him (or herself) that she really was paying attention. And she was! It was just... hard. Especially when someone that beautiful was only what felt like a hair's breadth away.

“Thanks again,” she said, taking the paper back from him and favouring him with another small, shy smile. “You really helped me out. Oh, and I'm Jezzie, by the way,” she added, remembering her manners. “It was nice meeting you!”

As she scuttled away, her face flared bright red, so she walked faster hoping that he wouldn't notice. He was so pretty! How could a man be that pretty? None of her brothers were that pretty! And he was nice, too!

Remembering what he told her, she turned right at the cluster of lockers he'd pointed out to her, then carefully looked at the door numbers on her left. No... No... No... Yes! There it was! Beaming happily, she pulled the door open and bounced into the room, ignoring the strange looks she got for not following the unwritten rule that freshmen were supposed to be timid and nervous on their first day. Now that she was out from under the gaze of the school nurse with the beyond-beautiful eyes, she was no longer nervous and was back to her usual bubbly exuberance.

She picked a desk in the second row from the front, setting her things down on it and looking around the room for familiar faces. She was disappointed. While she recognized a few of her new classmates from middle school, none of them were people she was friends with. Well, she could work on that. But it would be nice if Jonathan was in her homeroom with her. That would be so much fun, especially since she wouldn't have many classes with him this year. Stupid Jonathan, being overly bright and taking higher level courses and leaving Jezzie alone with the other average freshmen. Sigh.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

נσηαтнαη вєηηєтт

Jonathan grinned as the blond ruffled his hair, ducking his head slightly as the hand was withdrawn. It was a gesture he was rather used to, and fond of besides. What was it with people and ruffling his hair, anyway? Maybe it was because it was soft. He didn’t know, but Mom complained about how soft it was. She said it wasn’t fair. Jonathan didn’t see what fair had to do with anything.

The dark-haired boy gave a little bit of a bounce as they started forward, flushing suddenly when the other boy took his hand, leaning closer to whisper to him. After a moment he gave a small nod, beaming despite his sudden return to shyness. Rather than re-claiming the other boy’s hand (as he’d so clearly wanted to), he wound both arms around his notebook, skipping slightly ahead of the blond.

“Look!” He paused, waiting just long enough for the other boy to catch up before moving forward again. He pointed to a nearby door number – it was close – and grinned. “It’s got to be down here.” Momentarily, he hesitated, then reached for the other boy’s hand, his initially light grasp tightening as he lightly pulled the blond forward, just a little faster than the casual pace.

“Found it!” he announced happily, soon coming to a stop in front of the doorway. He looked back at the other boy, grinning nervously, before starting into the room, hesitating as indigo-hued eyes scanned the room for a familiar face. Spotting the dark-haired girl, he brightened again, lightly pulling at the blond’s hand as he headed her direction.

“Jezzie!” He hadn’t been sure he was going to have any classes with the girl, having tested out of all his freshman core classes, but he was delighted to already see they’d have at least one together. Resisting the urge to go in for a hug, he came to a stop by the girl’s desk. “Have you found the nurse’s office yet?” he asked automatically. It might have seemed like a weird starting question, but the girl knew it was an issue for him. Sure, he wasn’t likely to get sick on the very first day – he hadn’t done that in years – but it was important to already know when he did. It wasn’t like there was always someone who would walk with him if he didn’t know, and sooner or later he would need to. He supposed, if nothing else, he could ask Nate to show him where it was before he went home. . .

“This is Micah,” he added shyly, flushing slightly as he realized he’d started talking to the girl without introducing his new friend first. Dropping the boy’s hand, he tucked his hands back around the notebook he was still carrying, shifting nervously in place. He hoped the two decided to like each other. It would suck if they didn’t get along. “Micah, this is my friend Jezzie. She’s a freshman,” he explained, not sure what else to say about the girl, in introduction. Jezzie was. . . Jezzie, and there really was no one quite like her. The blond would see that for himself, soon enough.

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I do not love the brightest sword for its sharpness,
nor the arrow for it's swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory.
I love only that which they defend.

[Luxury Starshine]

______M I C A H ► c a m e r o n

w h i t e c o u r t ◄ V A M P I R E_______

It was possibly probably sinful to be that adorable, Micah thought as the boy wrapped his arms around his notebook and nodded. Micah knew he'd just as shy, if not shier, than Jonathan when he'd still been human, but there was no way he'd been this adorable. The difference? Micah knew it to be as simple as charisma. Micah didn't have natural charisma. He had it because of what had happened to him with Lyle, and even now he had to actively try to be charismatic, people did not just like him. This boy was shy, but he had that little something inside that drew people to him...

Color him jealous. If he had that charisma, he'd never go hungry for blood.

Jonathan skipped a couple paces ahead of him, and Micah found himself smiling. Yes...the boy had charisma. What kind of person ( human ) could hate that? Unless there was something extremely unsavory about him that he wasn't seeing...but when Jonathan stopped excitedly to point out the room numbers were getting closer, and to grab his hand and drag him, Micah began to doubt very much that there was something too unsavory to be found about the child.

He picked up his pace to keep up with his new...friend? Was this what it was like to have a friend? Micah really wasn't sure at all, after all, he'd never had one before, but this what he imagined it was like to have a new friend. He couldn't stop smiling, and not just because he had to, but because he wanted to. The last time he'd smiled so much was when Lyle had taken him out of the foster system, and that had been years ago.

“Found it!” Jonathan exclaimed as he stopped in front of a door that was in fact marked with the correct number. Sure enough, Micah thought, Jonathan had found it for them. He was pulled along inside, and instantly, it seemed Jonathan found someone that he recognized and pulled him over to meet her...Jezzie, he called her. Not Jessie, like Jessica, but...Jezzie. With two Zs. What an odd name. At last, the boy let go of his hand, and Micah missed it's warmth, he somehow felt cold without it, even though the rumors of vampires being ice cold were complete lies.

He clasped his hands together behind his back...maybe that would help. "Hello, Jezzie," the vampire greeted the girl with a smile. "Nice to meet you." And this was further proof that Jonathan was charismatic, he already had at least one friend. It was probably nice...Micah knew a lot of people liked to have large social circles, but a smaller one was more intimate, which was probably nice too.

[Luxury Starshine]

L Y L E - C A S T L E_______________
_______________f o r g e t f u l - m a n

Lyle, more than most people, was a forgetful person. He forgot where he put spices, he forgot where he kept the spoons, he forgot work hours, and he most certainly forgot when he hit his limit and needed to drink blood. A few years ago it had gotten so bad, that he'd gone too far and killed four or five people without meaning to. Killing too much was a bad thing, as he drew attention once the bodies were found ( if they were found ) and that, was just not a good thing at all. Too many eyes caught too many details.

Lyle had no interest in moving in with the court, they looked down on lower ranking vampires, even if they would keep him on track. He had no interest in taking a lover, no one ever kept his interest in such a way for long, and surely, Lyle knew, he would tire of them, and they'd become the next body, or they'd tire of him and leave. So, Lyle decided, the next logical thing was to take in a child. Not a young child, but someone who had enough of a mind and was old enough to remember things for him. He could call those things chores, and give the child an allowance. A tool, like a mixer, only it thought independently, unlike a mixer.

He'd chosen a teenager, a beautiful young boy with hair the color of sunshine and eyes the color of stained wood. He'd been orphaned and in the system for years. No one wanted him. No one even liked it. It was pathetic how easy it was for him to get his hands on him, how happily his foster parents shoved him away...but there was nothing really...wrong with him, Lyle found. He was smart, quiet, terribly efficient, and as the word beautiful implied, he was quite pleasant to stare at. The problem, Lyle supposed, was that he was religious, and not in the Christian way Americans pushed. He was an orthodox Jew, and needed all sorts of special things. Lyle didn't care. It wasn't like he didn't have money. He let the boy have the run of the house, fix it to his pleasure. A tool didn't work well if you didn't keep up its maintenance.

For the first month or so, Lyle could not remember the boy's name for the life of him. He remembered only that it started with an "Mi" and so he would call the child by whatever name that came to mind. Michael and Midnight ( because the boy was so opposite of nighttime ) were his favorite things to call him. The boy responded to whatever, and, as he got into a cycle, quickly learned to remind Lyle of everything he needed to do.

Soon though, Lyle began to remember that the boy's name was Micah, and that Micah...well he didn't see Micah like he saw other humans. Other humans passively threw themselves at anything that appealed, and a lot of them were blind idiots...Micah was anything but these things. He was devout to a religion that offered him little praise or reward for so much hard work, and he was smart as a whip even though he'd been held back a year during his foster years. Quickly, all too quickly, Lyle saw that Micah was special, and not just a tool.

Never, Lyle had decided when the boy started eighth grade, he was never letting Micah leave him. He loved the boy far too much to let him go when he graduated high school...yes. He loved him. He hadn't loved anyone since his own creator, but he loved this pure, innocent boy, who grew to be more and more attractive each year. He wanted to keep him forever, and that meant that Lyle would turn him. Not now, attractive as he might be, he had not reached his peak yet, and if he did it now, he'd be too young to get along in society probably. When he was seventeen or eighteen maybe, or nineteen, if he didn't threaten to leave for college or whatnot before then...it wouldn't be a problem to wait until then to change him, he was forgetful, he'd probably forget until then anyway...

Sadly, after Micah passed his freshman year, Lyle forgot one of the cardinal rules...and it cost him dearly. He brought his meal home with him. Micah had no idea what he was. The boy probably didn't believe in vampires, given his religion, but even he could not dismiss what he'd seen when he came home an hour earlier than expected...His victim escaped, but Micah was traumatized and scared. He threatened to leave, he's just turned seventeen, he could leave...and Lyle couldn't have that, and, feeling the boy had left him no choice, he held him down and changed him. Lyle had been so sure that would keep Micah with him...

But it hadn't. Micah was more stubborn, smart, and a better actor than Lyle had anticipated, and once Micah had convinced Lyle that he was all right and Lyle went to teach him how to hunt...the boy bolted, and Lyle had not seen him since. Until a few weeks ago, he'd been completely off the record, no paper trail, no identity, nothing, but finally, Lyle had found him registered at a school. A day school. The first thought Lyle had had was pity. The boy was willingly going to torture himself for an education. If he'd just stayed and expressed a want to continue his learning, Lyle would have found him high school classes at night...he would have done anything for that boy...no. Not would have, was going to. He was going to do anything and everything for Micah, and right now that meant pretending to be a guidance counselor for the school Micah had signed up in...

And it meant putting up with drab little nothings that caused trouble just for the hell of it...not that Lyle cared what they did, it was just that he had to go around and lecture them about being good this year. Right now, he looked down at his clipboard again, it was Mallory Trimble he was speaking to, monotonously, while twirling a stand of his hair between his fingers, about not doing what she'd done last year, not that Lyle cared. It was her life, if she wanted to waste it, whatever. No skin off his back. "Now, I know you're really a fine young woman," Yeah? That was a lie. She didn't look like a fine young woman, and he could usually tell. "And that you have much more potential that you could be living up to." That was a lie too. Few humans had any real potential in the form they were in... "So, please, at least attempt to do better this year. You don't have forever, you know." And...speech done. He stared at the rather plain girl for a moment, and then back down at this clipboard he'd been given for the next name on his "Beat sense into them with words" list. He really didn't care. He was here to get Micah, and that was all.

[chihari the Kiwi]

JEZZIE DARLING

Jezzie's head shot up and her eyes got wide when she heard that so-familiar voice call her name. A colossal grin broke across her face when her eyes confirmed that it was Jonathan who had called out to her. Jonathan was here! Did that mean he was in her class? Oh goody!

"Jonathan!" she called back, half standing and waving at him excitedly until he was right next to her. When he reached her, she reached out and grabbed his hands, bumping them against each other affectionately. He'd get all sulky if he didn't get some form of affection, and Jezzie wasn't much for hugging. Though she'd totally give him a big old hug if he asked for it. She didn't mind hugging Jonathan, even if she wouldn't initiate them most of the time.

"Are you in this homeroom too? That's great! I thought we wouldn't be seeing as much of each other this year, what with you being so smart and testing out of all your freshmen subjects." She pouted at him, pretending to be mad, but she wasn't really. Having him in her homeroom made it allll better. And she would likely see him at lunchtimes, too, so it would be good.

She beamed at him, a telltale blush crossing her face at his question about the nurse's office. "Oh yes!" she gushed, pressing her hands against her face. "The nurse is soooo hot! Ohmygosh, I thought my heart would burst!" It was a girly exclamation, and would probably have irritated most guys, but Jonathan had known her long enough that he was probably used to it by now. "Meet me at lunch and I'll show you. You have a tendency to catch whatever bug is floating around." And wasn't that the truth! He'd puked on her on more than one occasion, not that she could begrudge him for it. It was impossible to begrudge Jonathan anything.

It embarrassed her slightly that she totally didn't notice his new friend until Jonathan pointed him out to her. It wasn't her fault! She'd been excited to see her buddy! "Hello!" she said, grinning up at Micah. "Are you a freshmen too? You don't look like one. You've got a more 'mature' air about you, if you know what I mean. And you've got the prettiest hair. Doesn't he have pretty hair, Jonathan?" She turned to her friend expectantly for confirmation. As if he would disagree with what was so obviously gorgeous hair. So blond!

"You guys should sit near me," she continued, gesturing to the empty desks next to her. "That way you won't have to sit next to the scary seniors." She glanced conspiratorially to the back of the room, where the older students were sitting in a mature, well-dressed crowd, looking all cool and aloof. Wooooow. Intimidating!

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

נσηαтнαη вєηηєтт

Jonathan grinned when the girl waved excitedly to him, his shyness fading against the girl’s enthusiasm, as usual. Jezzie captured his hands, and the dark-haired boy was immediately warmed by the affectionate contact. He laughed nervously, flushing slightly as the girl basically announced to the entire room that he was one of the smart kids, though it wasn’t like he was really all that worried about becoming a bully magnet because of it. For some reason, people had never really picked on him, but for an exception here and there – and never for long, with Nate around. No, the dark-haired by was entirely secure in his sense of safety.

But what if no one wanted to talk to him, just because he was smart?

The grin widened slightly as the girl gushed about the school nurse. “I’ll have to only get sick at lunchtime,” he teased, assuming they’d have that together, too, “so that you can go to the nurse’s office with me.” They’d better have that together! He’d be sad if he didn’t get to see the girl at least one other time during the day. Not to mention it would be hard to show him where the nurse’s office was at lunch if they didn’t, but then, she could always show him later, couldn’t she?

Jonathan grinned at the other boy’s hair, examining it like he’d just noticed it for the first time. He gave a resolute nod, for a moment looking very serious. “It is pretty,” he agreed. It looked soft. He wanted to touch it, but he was way too shy to ask. Maybe he’d work himself up to that later, though he kind of doubted it. Shyness didn’t fade that easily.

“Yes, sit next to us!” he exclaimed happily, turning pleading eyes upon the blond. It would be great for all three of them to sit together, right? He didn’t know about the seniors being scary – or scarier than anyone else he didn’t know, anyway – but he would be happy to sit by two friends and not have to worry at least this first hour. “We can compare schedules!” he added with a matter-of-fact nod. . . not that he was expecting too much overlap, but still, it could happen!

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I do not love the brightest sword for its sharpness,
nor the arrow for it's swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory.
I love only that which they defend.