|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2009 6:52 pm
Yves built himself a fort out of the boxes he had moved in with and sat inside for a long time. It was a haven of sorts, although alone in his own room, there wasn't much to hide from. Work, perhaps. Work of opening the damn things and actually setting up his room beyond packing his closet full of snacks. He had his portable dvd player in his lap and an open bag of chips in his lap, but he'd been dozing for about an hour now. No one came to get him. No one came to scold him for leaving a container open or lead him along to bed. But he woke up.
There were sounds outside of his fort, faint but indeed there. Yves yawned and stretched, his back bumping along the box that held his TV and one that held a fourth of his wardrobe. Whatever it was, it wasn't in his room, or so he believed. None of the lizards could make that sort of a scuffling sound, and the snake most definitely not. It must be coming from the room next to his... the room his partner was supposed to be coming to stay in.
Yves perked up a little more at the thought, abandoning his chips and copy of The Lion King to slip out of the open-box portal of his crude little house. His partner was here! He'd been paying a keen attention to the room next door when he wasn't busy eating, sleeping, or running free around the facility. Every now and then he went to knock after those arduous adventures, but to no avail. Now he was almost sure there'd be someone there to greet him, someone he could actually take a measure of.
He paused just behind his own door, reaching back to make his dreads were arranged and that his shirt was tucked in before he opened the door and looked down the hall.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 3:22 am
Finn didn't so much wake up that morning as quit trying to sleep. He knew he looked bad; his guide kept glancing back at him when he went to rub his face and the third time he caught himself, Finn finally gave up on the motion, fisting his hand into his shirt instead. He was nervous, tension unfurling in his belly, and he thought that if he tried to smile winningly – something he was usually very good at – his face might crack.
Psychics. Lightning fast discharge from the hospital. No goodbye to his foster mum. A scholarship he didn't apply for at some academy at some undisclosed location, and the way the government rep spoke softly like the nurses did in the leukaemia ward. Finn thought he was entitled to a little hysteria at this point, but unfortunately he'd never been the type. His head had started hurting something fierce though, like an uncomfortable, burning itch that was inside his skull instead of his skin.
He shut the door with a last 'thank you' at the poor guy saddled with showing him around, trying not to look like he'd been born in a poor, post-communist country, where everybody grew up malnourished and screwed up and subsisted on a diet of cabbages and watered down rice. He didn't think it worked; he'd lost weight when the dreams started – not a huge amount but he'd been lanky to start with – and coupled with his stupid hair he was bound to stand out. It may have a fancy name but an academy was still a school, and Finn had been in enough of them to know that was the last thing he wanted.
He dropped onto the bed and chewed his lip, nudging his duffel underneath with his foot. No roommate, which was a blessing, just small, telltale signs that someone had lived here before him. Now if only somebody would give him a clue about what the hell was going on, because occasionally-half-knowing the future was really not as useful as you'd think.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 4:24 am
No one in the hall, it seemed. Yves shut the door behind him as he sidled on out of his room, the one he would be living in for months, perhaps years to come. He did not miss home yet. He did not miss his mother; he was mad at her, for being who she was, for taking away what was his. He did not miss his father; a man who was far too hard upon him to gain Yves' appreciation at this time. He refused to miss them because they had been afraid. They had forced him into this, no wriggling around it. Despite it all, though, he would make the most of his situation, which was him, on his own, in a place where no one knew who he was or where he came from. He could make a new life, if he wanted.
The only downside about being here was they wanted him to learn about these... powers of his. He was not happy about that.
But the thing about Yves was that he did not like to deal with problems that were his own. He was the type to take things like emotional anguish bit by bit in his own time, or else ignore it entirely. Right now, there was something bright and new and shiny in meeting someone who he would be relating to on a regular basis.
Finn would hear a knock on the door, although it was not your simple one-two-three. It was a light cadence of a beat, on Yves casually played with the knuckles of both his fists.
"Ahnyone home?" He called.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 7:44 pm
Wondering at the lack of timetable and usual admission details, Finn picked absently at the fraying edge of his sleeve, eyebrows drawn. He tried not to make a habit of brooding; he spent too much time in his head to be running over bad memories and why is this happening and what ifs. If he had to put it into so many words, he already felt crazy. No need to speed the process along. But still, the niggling suspicion that he'd been committed to some sort of facility, or worse, some sort of support group, left a bad taste in his mouth.
He only hoped there weren't any weirdos that could enter his mind. It wasn't a particularly safe place to be. Hell, the same could be said about this joint. Probably the only thing worse than a bunch of teenagers was a bunch of teenagers with freaky superpowers.
He might have continued stewing in his own juices – or at least until he felt the call of the cafeteria – when someone started playing percussion on his door. A guy's voice followed, accented and vaguely musical. Time to make an appearance already? Half-expecting an instructor – at this stage, Finn wouldn't blink if they all had to sit in a circle and hold hands – he answered before he spared a thought for his crinkled shirt and flyaway hair.
"Uh."
Not an instructor then. The boy looked around his age, and Finn's first impression of dark skin, flawless nose bridge was quickly superseded by curiosity, and really long dreads. He cleared his throat and made an effort not to be absurdly self-conscious about his own overgrown mop.
"Did you need something?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 8:14 pm
Yves didn't really know what he was expecting, but the boy who answered the door gave him pause. It wasn't an obscenely long one, mind you, and it wasn't like he was gawking at the very caucasian kid, but there was a moment where the Cajun just stared at Finn. Then, he flashed the other a toothy grin. So this must be his partner.
"You know, ah thought I heard a tussle o'er thisaway, figured I mosey ovah, see if I got me a neighbor yet. Je m'appelle Eef Roo," He tipped his head to the side slightly, his grin pulling crooked as he studied the other boy and shoved his hand right into Finn's space across the gap of the door, clearly expecting the other to shake his hand like any sensible member of Western society. "You and me, we gon' to be pahhtners hee-ah diss mess."
This boy was a mess, Yves thought, taking in his hair and clothes. Since he was a teenager, there wasn't much more to tell about him other than he was obviously a grub. What was he wearing, anyway? Not anything to fault the boy for, though. Maybe he was a bit leery about shaking hands with him, but in the spirit of making a good first impression on the boy he'd be toting around with him for the semester and who knew however much longer... Yves was ready and willing to bite the bullet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 05, 2010 8:59 pm
Wow. The silence didn't stretch enough to be awkward, but Finn knew what this one meant, and he was a little sick of being weighed up and found lacking. So he wasn't well-groomed and his teeth were crooked and he liked yellow and plaid shorts. People who judged him for that were jerks and should learn where to shove it.
...There was no point in making enemies though, especially if they were going to be neighbours and pahhtners. Eef (and what sort of name was that, really?) probably commanded attention with his accent alone. If you didn't pay attention, you weren't going to understand a thing. And what was with the French? Mosey? If Finn closed his eyes, he could almost imagine Jack Sparrow.
Then again, maybe it wasn't just the accent. Finn looked at the palm thrust near his abdomen and reluctantly eased the door open a fraction more. His smile was a touch cool, but not noticeably so.
"Finn Casull. S'nice to meet you. You, uh, wanna come in? Sorry, it's just - I haven't washed my hands." And if you strapped him to a lie detector, he wouldn't have said any differently.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 06, 2010 6:34 am
"And you, Fehn." Hm. That wasn't quite right, but he wasn't going to correct himself right now. Finn was offering to let him come inside, and saying something about his hand. Well, that suited Yves just fine, though he made a show of hefting a brow politely in return to the other. As if it would have been no problem.
"Ah, shoor, I come in." He started forward, shouldering the door aside smoothly and sliding between it and Finn. His eyes darted immediately over the living space, nostrils flaring momentarily to make sure it didn't reek of anything. Yves was rather particular about a clean living space and body. He didn't mind getting dirty, but when it came to being home and in general public settings, he was dressed to the nines. Even if he had yet to move everything out of the boxes in his room, they were stacked neatly and what clothes he did have out were folded or hanging in the closet. It also smelled like vanilla and honey in that room. "You all settled in, Fihn?" Maybe that wasn't so right either.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
