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 Posted: Tue Nov 11, 2008 8:02 am
It was a typical day. Not completely freezing, nor disgustingly hot. Not too bright, nor too gloomy. A calm indication of the Autumn season that seemed to be knocking on everyone's door. Stopping just long enough to turn the green leaves red, or perhaps to rip them from their branch. However, Nathaniel was not concerned with any of these things. Sure, in their own right they had interesting properties about them, but it was not enough to make him care any more. Instead, he was more entranced with the book he had open on the desk. It was an actual index he'd found in the library, of all the poisons ever used since the beginning of recorded time till only a few years ago. It was rather large and voluminous as well as frayed and slightly faded, but his fascination never waned.
Diligently, like a man on a mission, which he was, he scrawled down any type that might be useful so that he might further research it. Anything that worked on multiple species was best. Any plants or chemicals he heard a lot, he would record. Everything moved in a predictable motion. He would read, write, double check, finish writing. To any but himself though, his notes were nonsensical and all over the place. For one so filled with manners, he seemed obviously disheveled elsewhere.
This, too, did not much matter. Here he wouldn't be disturbed. Outside was noisy. His dorm was noisy. The Basic Learning building was noisy. Here, in an empty classroom down a not-so frequented hallway in the Science and Technology building, he would be much more at peace. Much more inclined to finish his work. Not to mention, this building was filled with resources all around him! Professor Veilwood left everything available for his students and spared nothing. Any books he would require, he left out for his students as well, save for one or two very personal ones. And knowing this, the British lad intended to make full use of it.
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Posted: Thu Nov 13, 2008 8:15 am
Scyeth had holed himself up in his dorm again. Dante and Greg were gone. Gone like freight train, gone like yesterday, gone like soldier in the civil war ( bang, bang), gone like a fifty-nine Cadillac, gone like all the good things that ain't never comin' back. Real gone. He hadn't even had any inkling they might be departing; why hadn't Norman even warned him? He wasn't talking to Norman right now. Pfft. Serves him right.
That didn't stop the growl in Scyeth's stomach, however. Lonely as he was, it wasn't going to feed him, now was it.
Begrudgingly, the youth left his room and wandered around the halls. Yes, he knew where the mall was, but he had to debate if eating was worth running into someone he knew and actually having to talk. 'No, there was nothing wrong, why didn't they stick their head back up their a** and leave him the hell alone.'
Wait.
Scyeth backtracked and peered into the empty room. "Why the hell are you here?" he demanded, glowering at Nat. He was still in Basic Learning! He had no right to be in Scy's building.
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Posted: Thu Nov 13, 2008 1:50 pm
What was that about not being disturbed? Looking up with slight detachment, he eyed the demanding subject with a bit of concern before tilting his head. His mind had been so compelled and captivated by a single volume that he had trouble recognizing the person until another few seconds later when he frowned. Emerald green eyes molted into liquid acid, too watery to be fierce, but fiery enough to be on guard. Closing the book, he held his page with a blank sheet of paper and pursed his lips, debating on an answer.
He didn't like Scyeth.
That much was clear. He found it difficult to understand how anyone could like the Aussie punk at all. He was brutal, hard to talk to, and not at all interesting. Highly judgmental, conceited, and on top of that... rather rude to boot. He often found talking to the other below his time and effort, and today was only different in the fact that he urgently wished to continue on with his research.
And so, egging on the Aussie was a bad idea. Better to indulge him calmly, maybe he'd be less likely to smash Nat's head in with his bitter words.
"I'm doing research," replied the Brit at last in a very matter-of-fact tone, on guard but not snappish.
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Posted: Sat Nov 15, 2008 12:35 pm
Scyeth rolled his eyes. It was obvious that Nat was working. (At least he was actually doing something useful, the teenager relented. Though, it did give him less to hassle the Brit about. No matter.) "That's not what I mean. You're still a basic student," the Aussie explained, waving his hand to the side. Oh, goddess above, did this mean Nat was applying to the School of Science and Technology? (Noooooo! Whyyyyy?)
The blond stepped into the room, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he contemplated the merits of starting another verbal battle with Nat. He hadn't really spoken with the boy since that math class way back in the day. Oh sure, there had been quick exchanges, but that was all. For every bit Nat did not like Scyeth, Scyeth hated the lad tens times more. He had commit the unforgivable sin, as far as the demon was concerned.
"Do you ever do anything useful?" Scyeth finally crowed.
The gauntlet had been thrown.
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Posted: Sat Nov 15, 2008 8:18 pm
It wasn't good enough. And for some reason, Nathaniel seemed almost irritated by this fact, an emotion he failed to realize he could exhibit. Why did Scyeth have to bother him with everything? Especially when he was working. There was something a little off today though. He was bitter, sure, even ready to bust heads maybe... but there seemed to be a difference in the edge. Or perhaps the Brit was simply too fed up or distracted by his work to care enough. Scy wasn't worth his time. Why waste it trying to follow his incentives?
With an exasperated sigh that clearly stated he didn't want to waste his time on the other, he looked him in the eyes and shrugged, "Professor Veilwood said it was all right. I've already spoken to him about it." 'If you must know,' Nathaniel added mentally to himself. The day was going from progressively useful to disastrously detrimental. This ... student... always judged him. He didn't even have to speak for the other to hate him. Their first encounter was brief and Nat had been trying to be nice. Obviously all attempts to be nice to Scyeth Akazar were utter fail from the start.
And then... the first blow. Toxic green eyes narrowed and his lips thinned out as he took in the statement. Licking his lips, he prepared his answer and then sighed. Waste of energy. Finally, he prepared another answer, albeit filled with a long preliminary awkward silence.
"Everything I do is useful. What do you do? Pick on people?" Nathaniel chirped childishly. He knew it was immature. This he knew above all else. But what else could he say? He didn't know how to fight, not with fists nor words. Proper manners didn't come into play here. He hated the other too much for that. So why not stoop to his level? What was wrong with that?
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Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 6:11 am
Scyeth cackled, blue eye glinting dangerously as he stared down at Nat. Ah, yes. The Brit had taken the bait. "Well, I'm already in the Science school, and I'm well in my training. I've tampered with magic. I have friends. I have rivals." Scyeth lifted his head, shaking side-to-side like a proud stallion. He had plenty to be pleased about. Oh sure, he had wasted the majority of the fall sulking over his father, but that was okay. He was still a teenager. Those things happened.
Speaking off.
The Australian hobbled his way over to the basic student, shifting his weight onto his crutch once he was close enough to stop. "See, here's your problem. You think you are so ********' awesome and you're not. You do not know it all, you have not seen it all, you have not felt it all, and you know what, kid? You never will, not even if you could live forever." Scyeth snorted. "You're an arrogant dickweed. No one likes you because you couldn't give a damn what happens to them, and no one likes anyone so haughty, either. The likes if you will never save the world."
Scyeth bristled slightly and he pushed blond hair behind a pointed ear.
"You could never save the world. No one can save the world on their own. The likes of you could never save the world."
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Posted: Thu Dec 04, 2008 4:37 pm
Sighing a little, Nathaniel listened to the typical 'tantrum' of the other, getting slightly moody as he did so. Yes, it was true that the British lad was still in Basic Learning, and although he had been here eons longer than the Aussie, the blonde had surpassed him with a sickening ease. Yes, perhaps the other had tampered in magic, which could very well explain the sorry state he was in right now. Nathaniel wasn't envious of this at all. And finally, friends and rivals? Pah! What use did Nat have for such lowly things?
Friends destroyed you. Weakened you. Became a source of pain if not carefully watched. Jaden was the only exception allowed into this equation. Jaden understood the pain. Put a line between them. He was easy to protect; it had become part of his life rather than excess baggage. As for rivals, well sure they drove people forward, but Nathaniel figured that being pissed with another person was a waste of time... save for Scy. Hating Scyeth was never a waste of time. And his little tirade proved it. For what did that punk know about the British youth? Nothing! Nothing at all! And yet, here he was trying to knock his enemy down a few pegs. And so, didn't that make him as bad as he claimed Nat to be?
Certainly.
It just must be so. A filthy punk with an even filthier vocabulary. Proud of his own arrogance and solitary confinement. Proud of his heritage and whatnot. And here he was, preaching to Nathaniel Jacobson about being haughty. Well what made him so much better? Frowning, Nat realized that his face had contorted into something like a bitter sneer as his thoughts progressed with each passing second.
Standing up from his chair, he turned to face Scyeth, wanting to be on equal playing fields now, "You're saying you're so much better? And claiming that I don't have anyone that likes me? As if you think that bothers me? Hah! Aren't you weaker for those people you call friends? When they get hurt, or if they die, the only thing they will do is drown you in your own sorrow. The fact that you need to belittle me is proof of your own insecurities Scyeth." Heh, perhaps that would put the other in his own place, where Nat thought he belonged.
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Posted: Tue Dec 09, 2008 12:18 pm
"Yes, I am, Nathanial! I can see the value in other people! Do not live for tomorrow, live for the day and revel in its glory. If they get hurt, and if they die, we carry on, and leave them in our hearts. We honor their memories and their dreams, we learn from their mistakes, and we strengthen our resolve, and we move on. Believe me, you little cretin, I fear nothing more than abandonment. Nothing. It is a god-awful feeling that I wish upon no one, not even yourself, but you are digging your own grave at a break-neck pace, my ignorant little friend."
Scyeth took a deep breath, visible eye flashing violently.
"I know what it is to be the outsider, because I will never be one of you humans." Scyeth spit out the word. "You are the cruelest being the earth has ever known. Genocides. Poverty. Starvation. The rest of the race turns its back on everyone in need." A pause. "But then, there are those who do care. You cannot judge one by the whole, nor vice versa. You are a fool, Nathanial Jacobson."
Scyeth fell silent for a moment, the passion dimming, smoldering, mutating into another beast.
"Either man up, Nat, and find some motivation other than yourself, or get the ******** out of my school."
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Posted: Tue Dec 09, 2008 12:48 pm
Shock. The words hit him so hard that it was worse than a physical blow. He sank back into his seat and lay in silence a moment, defeated. "Hah," he laughed, more to himself than anything else. It was an insane sort of sound, denial and betrayal. Disbelief and discountenance. What could he know? What could the other possibly know? Was Scyeth really so much better? No. Impossible. Then why had the shock registered in his body before the words hit? Everything knew what was true and what was lie. Lie was what was in the world. Filled with petty lies and false courage. Hope that abounded to nothing and people that stole and starve. A disgusting place not quite worth saving but hiding that gem that made it shine. That was the world Nathaniel lived in, had he been so blind that he could not see it?
So in truth, was he fighting for revenge still? Revenge on what? On people long dead? On enemies unknown? Did he care about this world? No. He never had. Revenge had been his will to live, his motivation for everything. Protecting people, socializing, that was never part of the plan. And didn't that only hurt more? To have no purpose. To what end and depth was the British lad really going? Pulling emerald eyes away from the other youth, he looked at his notes. Angry fierce handwriting scribbled across the page with a passion that livened his heart. Was the passion about the revenge? Or the science itself?
He was a fool.
Scyeth had said it, and now Nathaniel had begun to see a bit of his own denial. How? No. It was impossible. To move on? Scy didn't understand. Couldn't understand. ...And why couldn't he? Was he so different than he couldn't understand pain? Was Nat so prideful that he couldn't see past his own nose? That he couldn't see that there were people in front of him, suffering just as much, if not more than himself! And Jaden! Had Jaden ever hurt like this? He shuddered to think.
People had stopped being people. They had become things, worthless interventions to waste time on. Even Jaden had been such a thing. More precious, yes, but not really a person. Not something to be considered. A comfort, like cooking, nothing more. He felt sick.
"I..." he stood up, reeling, but steadied himself and looked fiercely at the other. His life till now ...had he really been living it? Yes. It had not been a lie. He had been doing what he thought he should. He had been living by his own principles. What right did the other have to say such things? Why should this change anything? Why? And yet... it hurt. To have such things said out loud... actually hurt.
He found himself getting angry. The entire thought range had taken quite a long time, and had processed through him like sludge. Slow moving, thick and dense, but the surface obviously apparent for what it was. He had to dig deeper. There was so much more than to what was just being said. He had to read between the lines to get it and assess it. Half of it could have been a lie, but the other was so frightening and so passionate that Nat had found himself moved by it... if only for a moment. Convinced by it... if only for a minute. And now he couldn't get it out of his head.
"If I am a fool..." he said curiously, almost far-off, but look dead on at Scyeth, "Than what are you? And don't say saint..." He didn't mean it spitefully, he meant it honestly. For once his life, Nat had never been so straightforward about anything. It seemed as if the preacher had made a crack in the steel thick fortress the Brit had encased himself in.
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Posted: Mon Dec 15, 2008 5:53 am
"Saint Scyeth?" The youth had to try it out for himself. It kind of rolled off the tongue. He crooned to himself and shook his head. "No. I am a demon, an orphan. More importantly is who I am; I am Scyeth Akazar, Soldier-in-training." A sage nod. He folded his arms over his chest, barely balancing on his crutches. "You are lost. You have no friends because you pushed them all away, so now there is no one to help you when you falter. So I do it."
"I do this not because I like you, not because I believe you are special, or something, because I do not. I do this because I am a leader, and a true leader leaves no man behind, whether he likes his soldier or not." Because like it or not, that was why they were here. To go to war.
"You are lost, but there is nothing stopping you from turning around and coming home, but remember: the longer you stay on the wrong path, the harder it is to make the return."
Scyeth shut his mouth. He was done. He nodded curtly and turned towards the door.
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Posted: Mon Dec 15, 2008 11:54 am
"Wait!"
The word had slipped from his lip quite before he had a chance to realize it, let alone stop it or control it. Why he had said it was an unconscious decision, not quite his own but at the same time his fault. Was there a reason to keep the other youth from leaving? If anything, Nathaniel wanted time to think, time to ponder, time alone. But did he really want to be alone anymore? To let the other walk away, would it be pride? To ask him to stay, wasn't that foolish selfishness? A part of him wondered so vainly why he had considered it, if even for the briefest moment.
He hated Scyeth. He always had. He thought the Aussie punk was just that: a punk. What good could anyone like him do? But the truth was obvious, glaring him in the face, and now that Nathaniel had been forced to see it... he couldn't quite ignore it any longer. The facts were that Scyeth had friends and Nat had Jaden. Scyeth wore the uniform, Nathaniel had none. Scyeth was 'real' and Nat... Nat wore masks all day, every day, for all his life. And so what did this prove? What did it mean?
Well there was the obvious fact that Nathaniel was indeed going about life in a detrimental manner. But what else? That there was a chance for a bit of happiness that could make all of this disappear. And yet, did he want that? Was he happier alone?
No.
It took only three seconds to realize that maybe... just maybe... the reason Nathaniel disliked Scyeth so much was because he was jealous. Maybe not of being a demon, and he couldn't ever envy him for being an orphan (since he at least had his aunt and uncle left, whether he liked them or not), but maybe because Scy had friends and Scy never looked lost when he did things. Nathaniel dabbled in what he didn't understand, and always felt like falling. Scyeth never had any of that, and he stood where he could look eye to eye with someone. Nat stood above them, looking down. Always down.
He turned to Scyeth and held out his hand, "Nathaniel Jacobson, soon-to-be pharmacist-in-training." He didn't know if Scy would take the hand. Hell, he didn't even know if he wanted the other to. But he knew... that by doing this... a little bit of himself felt a whole lot better.
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Posted: Fri Jan 16, 2009 5:04 am
Scyeth hadn't except the Brit to chase after him. The crippled youth halted and twisted, mildly curious. What else could Nat want from him? He'd given all the advice he was willing to part with at the moment. And then Nat extended his hand and introduced himself. His lips twisted into a grin and Scyeth shifted, taking Nat's hand and giving it a firm shake. "Pleasure," he purred, more than pleased his lesson meant something.
"I'll see you 'round, Nathaniel Jacobson."
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