Realistic or Modern Mad House.

[Trignome]

The stain was like ketchup, red and sticky. But it smells like strawberries. Isadore didn't think strawberry jam was such a shade of red, though. Isn't jelly sort of...pink-ish? Before he could continue his analysis of the blotches of food on the table, he felt the table shift a bit as someone sat across from him. Nick, probably. Nobody else would have the balls to sit at my table. Though he's not necessarily brave, just clueless. Without attempting to lift his head, Isadore smeared his cheek along the table's surface and adjusted his position so he could watch the other boy as he ate. Oh gods, he got the pasta. Looks like I'm going to have to get Tums as well as cake. I wonder if the pharmacy's going to be open after I leave the mall. "Why aren't you sitting with Barracuda? I'm sure her friends have breasts too."


Peeling his face away from the lunch table, Isadore licked his hand and vigorously rubbed at the strawberry-scented ketchup stain on his cheek. Gotta wash my hand after this. Finally sitting up and looking at Nick properly, Isadore thought for a moment at the other boy's question. Guys? Is he asking about the track kids from the lunch line? He shrugged. "Well...what do you want to know about the track team? Try-outs haven't started yet, anyways. If you want to waste time running around in a big circle, you've still got about a week before the initial sign up."

 

[Pine]

Nick quirked an eyebrow at the other boy. Barracuda? What in the world? He's so weird. "Don't be stupid." He snorted into the tiny carton of chocolate milk. "I've had my fill of girls for the day." Taking a small swig of it, he reflected on how much more rich the chocolate milk always was. The white milk always tastes like cardboard, and I wouldn't ever try touching that occasional strawberry milk.


He narrowed his eyes a little as the boy peeled his face from the table, revealing the stain that had previously been concealed, but was now on the boy's cheek. Did he really just put his face in that? Nick's attention was quickly directed from that, however, at the delivery of the news that it was the track team. "Really?" he said, suddenly looking crestfallen, his shoulders slumping a little. Was he really going to have to deal with those guys from now on? They look like a bunch of idiots. Not that he had exactly been too buddy-buddy with the last track team, and it wasn't even much of a team sport anyway, but... At least it would be fun to humiliate them. Nick shook his head a little, trying to keep his mind off of his own greatness for a moment, and tapped the table with the end of his plastic fork and fixed Isadore with a serious expression. "You know what I meant," he insisted, his patience beginning to wane. "Don't change the subject. Just don't talk about it if you don't want to talk about it, okay?"

 

[Trignome]

Isadore mimicked his teacher and gave Nick a stern expression. "Young man, if it seems to be a sensitive subject, then perhaps you should refrain from even mentioning it?" Breaking character, he rubbed his cheek a bit more to make sure the stain was off. He looked over at Nick. "You don't have to worry about anybody here doing the 'foster kids are shit' routine, if that's what you're asking about." Waving over at the other tables, Isadore grinned at the curious observers who were unsuccessfully trying to listen in on their conversation. A very difficult thing to do, if you're all sitting so far away.


Getting up from his seat, he shouted to the group of teens at the table nearest theirs. "HEY! You guys are looking over here quite a bit. You want to join our table?" Realizing that they'd been caught staring, most of the group quickly averted their eyes and glanced down at their putrid pasta dishes. One boy flipped him the bird. Isadore forcefully cackled in an extremely maniacal manner. "I know what that is, it's a magical banana! Ding Ding Diiiiing. WINNER!!! How many points do I get, 3? Or maybe 4?" Suddenly, he ceased laughing, and mimed a concerned expression. "Oh, but you really shouldn't have given me 4 points, sir." Leaning over towards the other table, Isadore could tell the bird-flipper was becoming increasingly disconcerted with his behavior. As well you should be. Better careful than missing, yes? He slowly held up four of his fingers. "Did you know the Chinese pronunciation of '4'..." He leaned in even closer to the frightened group. "...is the same as 'death'?"


Abruptly, Isadore turned back around and sat down, giving Nick a sheepish expression. "Sorry about that. The people here tend to think foster kids are freakishly entertaining, so I try to live up to that expectation, yeah?" Shaking his head, he spit into his palm and tried to get the last bit of sticky, mystery substance off of his jaw. "But in all seriousness, you don't have to worry about the other students. They've seen you with me; they'll give you respect." Smiling wryly at his sticky, red hand, Isadore gently chuckled under his breath. Or, at the very least, they won't harass you like they do to the other Sunny Brookers. Looking up at Nick, Isadore tilted his head towards the other tables.


"So go on, then. If you leave now, you might even be able to rack up some pity points with the others. It's your first day at school, you accidentally sat at the table with the psychotic, mentally deranged foster kid. Now you need some comfort from your normal peers, 'cause my filthy, disturbed presence just scarred you for life or something..." Waving his hands around in jazz-hand fashion, Isadore adopted an exaggerated expression of sheer wonder and amazement. "Why, you could be...POPULAR..."

 

[Pine]

Nick's eyebrows knit together, his expression deepening into something of annoyance. He was having some difficulty following the other boy's words. Was bullying kids for being foster kids a thing here? He looked around a little at the multitude of eyes peering in their direction as Isadore gestured to the other tables, making his body tense in discomfort. It was completely uncalled for, why were they looking at them?


Then, without warning, Isadore stood up from his seat and started to yell across the cafeteria. His eyes flew open and his face flushed red. "What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed, something between a panicked expression and fury crossing his face. However, either the other boy didn't hear him or he was being ignored, because in the next moment, the white noise of the cafeteria seemed to be buried beneath his raucous cackling. Nick dropped the fork on his tray and locked his fingers together and he planted his forehead in them, before bowing his head and slipping his hands onto the back of his neck with a long sigh from out of his nose.


His hands clamped tightly as the spectacle continued, the force of his grip intensifying gradually. Had circumstances been a little different, Nick might have been amused by all of this. However, it was like Isadore was having to make a big deal with his explanation because he was too stupid to understand otherwise, and everyone in the cafeteria hated him for it. Does he have absolutely no concept of shame? his mind was screaming. No one in their right mind is ever going to try to talk to me again.


He remained like that, as though he could hide from the company of all of the students if he just kept his head down for long enough. Finally, long after Isadore had seated himself again, he went back to burying his face in his hands, this time glaring across the table through his fingers, his face twisted in genuine anger. No, he wasn't sorry at all. Did he even realize what he had just done? They wouldn't respect him, they would avoid him like the plague. Finally, he put his hands down again, knowing it was futile to hope the other kids would pretend that didn't just happen.


"That's 'cause y'all 're actin' like freaks," he spat, the sudden drawl coming out in his voice provoking him to clear his throat sharply afterward. He did not have anything else to say, however, and just snorted contemptuously, not bothering to cover it up. The smartest thing would be to take Isadore's last advice, to just pretend like he was some innocent victim of his insanity, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The worst part of it all was that he didn't know precisely why that whole display made him so angry, his rage surpassing his chagrin by far. He shook his head, his lip wanting to sneer, but only left that corner of his lip twitching. Wordlessly, he slipped off his backpack to set it down at his side. He pulled out his schedules and a pen, opting to work on it in silence in an effort to give himself time to calm.

 

[Trignome]

He smiled at Nick's response, glancing furtively around at the other students. Isadore couldn't entirely hear the rumors being spread, but he could snatch a few whispered words from the nearby tables. "You see...so sorry...stuck...didn't know...invite over...foster ass...bullying..." Snorting to himself, Isadore glanced over at the other boy. Me? Bullying him? He's much taller than me. But the damage was done. By lunch-time tomorrow, Nick was going to be a popular kid. Or...he would be, if he'd just leave now. Isadore felt himself frowning a bit, realizing the other boy wasn't cooperating with his ploy.


Whispering from where he sat, he glowered at Nick, mimicking the other boy's accent mockingly. "Hey, Nick. If yah think I'm actin' like ah FREAK, than maybe yah should leave." The other boy continued to fill out the forms he'd pulled out of his backpack, completely ignoring Isadore. Oh, shit a brick. Why can't you realize I'm helping you? Sighing to himself, Isadore slung his knapsack over his shoulder and stood up, waiting until more people began looking in his direction before he backed up and gave a resounding kick to the table. He grinned as his sneaker gave a satisfyingly loud thump against the edge, sending the entire table squealing suddenly across the tiled floor. Nick's papers scattered to the ground. Collateral damage: double the score.


Contorting his face into the most disgusting sneer he could manage, Isadore snarled at the other boy. "Hey, yah piece of SHIT. Here I am, mindin' my own BUSINESS, and you come all cocky and like, sit at MY table." He spit on the ground, making sure to miss Nick's shoe. Keep your words simple. Simple and dull. Dull, dull, dull. "What are yah, a stupid motherfuckin' BASTARD. Yah get near me again, Imma whoop yur ass." Finished with his little 'speech' Isadore turned and sauntered out of the cafeteria, making sure to aggressively brush past any people that stood in his way. Even though he normally enjoyed these little moments, he could feel his teeth grinding together in actual irritation. Seriously, if you can't even take a hint after all that...you're a hopeless cause.


As soon as he was in the hallway, Isadore made a mad dash for the library. Hide, gotta hide if he comes after me. But he stopped, slowing down to a more reasonable pace. Breathing deeply, he could feel a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Maybe one of Barracuda's friends will go comfort him, and he can get a girl.

 

[Pine]

Nick's jaw tightened. He's mocking me. The accent thing was obvious. Exaggerated, even. And completely wrong. Nick tried to keep his head down, glaring at his schedule, but he couldn't read the words properly, his mind all over the place. Why was he acting like this all of a sudden? The two of them had been joking earlier, casually talking about... whatever it was, he couldn't remember. Nick could feel his heart beating furiously in his chest, and something reminiscent of that same feeling from the night before had begun brewing again. He was hopeful that the other boy would just leave when he heard him putting on the backpack across from him and saw him getting up out of the corner of his eye. Just don't talk to me right now. Just don't-


His thoughts were cut off by the table suddenly jerking back, the momentum and shock from the moment enough to drive the paper out from under his fist. Nick's pale eyes snapped up at the other boy, his hand strangling the pen so hard it hurt his wrist, if only to see the sneering face of the only person in this town that he would claim to be familiar with only moments ago. Why was he acting like this? the phrase continued to scream in his mind. He was beyond comprehension of what he had done to deserve the insults that were being spit at him.


He rose from the table, his entire frame being overtaken with furious tremors. His cheek was throbbing madly, still attempting to stay calm as he squatted to pick up his schedule. Nick was oblivious to everyone in the room now, and it was just him gathering papers off the floor and Isadore the sudden and complete asshole, who was now making his exit. What are you going to do, anyway? said the rational voice in his head, which was gradually becoming softer and softer until he could no longer hear it's whispered words of wisdom.


Finally, he just snapped. I'm going to kill him. The only paper he had managed to get in his shaking hand crumbled up suddenly and was dropped to the floor. With complete disregard for all of his belongings, as any material value was completely forgotten for the moment, Nick sprinted out of the cafeteria, taking advantage of the path that Isadore had already cleared. He ankle was protesting loudly, feeling the pain all the way in his throat, but adrenaline had suddenly begun to pump it's ways into his veins and he completely ignored it. He had missed which turn Isadore had taken, but the heavy pounding of footsteps easily led him into the right direction. Knowing there was no way this kid could outrun him, he took off, listening hard throughout the unfamiliar halls until he was able to catch sight of the other boy, intent on tackling him to the ground from behind and getting some sort of choke hold on Isadore before attempting anything else.

 

[Trignome]

He was almost at the library entrance when the sound of feet pounding through the hallway could be heard behind him. Oh no, no, no...this is bad. Before he even glanced behind him, Isadore knew who it was. It was Nick. He looks pissed. Glancing longingly at the peaceful atmosphere of the library, Isadore sighed and turned to face the proverbial bull. He's going straight at me. Left. Dodging to his perspective right, he made sure to slide as close to the lockers as possible, getting out of the other boy's long arm range. As predicted, Nick's turn-around was impeded by his left ankle, still probably swollen from the night before. Inwardly cringing, Isadore silently apologized. Sorry. And sorry for not actually saying sorry, but if looks could kill...


He took the opportunity to steady his breath, inhaling deeply before sprinting back down the hallway like heck. If it's speed, I should be okay. He's injured. Watching the progress of the other boy's shadow along the wall of the hallway with his peripheral vision, Isadore almost tripped in shock. Gungle fuddits, what is this guy on? Mentally recalculating the difference between their paces, he almost let all his air out in a sigh. At the most, 10 seconds before he catches up. Spotting the hallway up ahead that intersected his current path, Isadore prepared to make a sharp left. Again, sorry Nick. Planting his left foot, he launched himself forward into the other hallway, using the momentum to run even faster.


Isadore frantically glanced along the hallway, looking for an empty classroom. A door, a wall, anything between me and him. But even as he continued to search for a non-existent safe zone, his mind was already running through assault tactics. Once he's closer: ankle or diaphragm?

 

[Pine]

It had taken entirely too long to catch up to the other boy, but once the familiar clothing was zooming into his view, any hesitation on his part was completely gone. The other boy seemed like he would be an easy target, perhaps even looking caught off guard (except why was he running, you idiot?), but once he was in range to grapple him, Isadore easily sidestepped him. Unable to press on his foot like he would have liked to, he was sent tumbling into the glass wall of some room. There was little to no room in his mind for coherent thought, lest he would have been aware of all the people inside the library that were suddenly jumping in their seats, startled by the loud bang.


Nick grit his teeth before resuming his charge. Amidst the angry swirl of thoughts that were clouding his judgment, that of which were primarily profane swears and other crude words that made no sense together, there managed to surface the conclusion that chasing Isadore might be more of a challenge than he thought, but once he had him... He registered that he was in pain with every step, but the actual sensation was lost to him. The only moment some of this discomfort managed to intrude his thoughts a little was when Isadore mimicked the other boy's way of rounding the corner. He had initially run past the boy, but he had been intentionally keeping close to the wall, and, being unfortunate enough to stop himself with the wrong foot, grabbed the corner with a slight wince, before pushing off to follow him down the hall.


Lockers blurred past him as he, once again, began to catch up to the other boy. Nick knew now it would take more than some basic method to catch him, but his present lack of creativity left him in the dark except for perhaps two options: getting past him then turning around (but that would never work with this injury) and approaching at an angle. He kept just enough to the side to keep his shoulder from colliding with any locks, but the moment he judged he was nearly running beside the other boy, he pushed off from the lockers to cut across the hall quickly, arms spread just enough so that he may encircle Isadore's torso and wrestle him to the ground from there.

 

[Trignome]

He's coming from the right, slanted path. Not bad. Isadore slammed both of his feet down and stopped abruptly, letting Nick's momentum carry him forwards and almost past where Isadore stood. As the taller boy began to recover, Isadore nodded. Now. Slipping in from under Nick's arms, he aimed at the spot right beneath the center of the ribcage. This is going to hurt, Isadore thought, even as the heel of his palm dug into the diaphragm and he shoved as hard as he could, lowering himself to both avoid Nick's arms and also to push upwards. Now, this should make him temporarily short-winded...hopefully. Ducking back and scrambling up from the floor, Isadore knew one hit wasn't going to be enough to stop the other boy. Bah. If I was killing, this could have been over so much sooner. In any case, why is this guy so pissed?


Feeling his temper rise, Isadore quickly stamped on it and tried to reason with Nick. "Look..." I'm sorry about what happened in the cafeteria. It's just that you don't seem the type to like being so isolated from other, normal kids. So I took the liberty of trying to help you. I didn't take your actual feelings into consideration, and I know you must be seriously pissed, but can we try to talk this out? "...who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?" Isadore face-palmed. That's not going to help the situation.

 

[spectro]

Jodie looked at her phone. It was only a quarter past one. She was sat on the doorstep, Damien's jacket wrapped around her because it had become increasingly cold. And then he arrived. Strolling up the drive, jacket-less. Was this the only jacket he had? Jodie suddenly felt a little guilty.


"Hey." She struggled to hide her smile. No Jodie. Stop getting attached to people so easily.


"Hey, can I get my jacket?" he pointed to it. "It's freezing." The air became visible as he spoke.


"Sure." She passed it to him.


"So, are you okay after,um, today?" He sat next to her on the doorstep.


"I'm actually fine. I feel like I need to get her back somehow. But I know, she'll only reiterate ten times worse. Maybe I should just leave it-"


"Who are you getting back?" Damien said.


"Ashley. It was obviously her."


"Are you kidding me? She is one childish little bitch. He stood up and his phone beeped in his pocket. "Can I not catch a break?" He looked wide eyed at his phone.


"What?" Jodie stood up and went on her tiptoes to look over his shoulder.


The text read:

WHO THE HELL IS THIS SLUT?

​

And then an attached picture. Jodie didn't need to ask what it was, she knew perfectly well.


"I gotta go. It's my girlfriend you see. Thanks for my jacket." He ran out of the gates and Jodie went to sit back on the steps, a little disappointed and cold.

 

[Pine]

Perhaps the greatest irony of it was that Nick had just been laughing at the prospect that this other boy could fight yesterday. Now, today, he couldn't even touch him. The boy attempted to stop himself the moment he saw Isadore disappear from his line of vision, but he landed on his foot wrong to do so even without taking other factors into account, and his ankle (he wasn't even able to tell if it was his good or bad) tried to give out from under him. Needless to say, his efforts in just trying to keep himself from falling, his palm slamming painfully into the prominent, built-in lock of the lockers, only managed to hinder his efforts stepping away from the other boy. Nick managed to twist his body away a little, but the heel of Isadore's hand still managed to hit most of his target. The wind was depleted from his lungs with an unnatural sigh, and Nick was left to stumble back, having to lean against the other lockers to support himself from falling over.


Several uncomfortable moments passed before his body finally let the air rush back into him with a sharp, almost high-pitched gasp. Nick was itching to charge him again, but Isadore was still standing there and that hit had been pacifying, as it turns out, and he was beginning to realize how futile it was from out of his murky thought-process. Well, to be fair, you've never had to chase someone before. The thought was almost reassuring. Not really. As he began to accept defeat, the rush of adrenaline began to ebb out of his system, and the voice of reason was slowly making it's debut. This is fine. You were only ever going to try to catch him anyway, you wouldn't have hit him... too much.


Nick's body began to rack with the same shivers from before, only growing more intense, now that it wasn't just his barely suppressed rage, but also all the pain that he had been ignoring up until that point attacking his senses all at once. His lips curled from his teeth in a sneer, drilling his glare into the other boy all the while. "What the fuck was all of that about?" he snapped. He breathed out slowly and harshly from out of his flared nostrils. No longer able to ignore the wobbling of his leg and the sharp sensation that came from putting any amount of pressure on it, he slowly crumbled to his feet. Nick's cheek was throbbing madly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down furiously, and it was all so humiliating.


He was somewhat at a loss of words now that he had the other boy there. He just wanted to scream, but there was no words... until all of what had been in the back of his head since ran off last night erupted in his mind. Not caring about whatever excuse Isadore may have begun to use, he finally shouted, "I'm so sick of all of this Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde bullshit with you! Ever since I've got here, everyone's been talking in some stupid code like there's some giant secret that needs to be put gently because I'm too dim! Saying stuff like how much of an asshole you are or that I need blah to survive! I don't think you know this, but I'm not stupid, I've noticed! I just don't want to be playing mind games and living like I'm in some unfortunate minor character in a psychological thriller! Is it really too much to ask that someone be straightforward with me for once?" he demanded, voice rising such that it cracked a little, but he didn't care at that point.

 

[Trignome]

As Nick slid down to the floor, crushed under the physical pain that his adrenaline had been dulling, Isadore gave a guilty sigh of relief. It looks like I don't have to do anything drastic. The boy on the ground seemed to be at a loss for words, only shuddering and burning red with frustration. Should I apologize? Say something to him? Isadore scuffed his sneaker on the tiled floor and cleared his throat. "Uh...so. Sorry about the thing with the cafeteria-" He blinked in surprise as Nick interrupted his apology with a string of profanic complaint.


As the other boy's voice cracked under the pressure of his shouting and rage, Isadore stood there, completely stunned by the Nick's blatant accusations. Mind games, no. Everybody's just trying to keep you safe, the truth is...you can't handle the truth. Nobody can handle the truth, that's why lying is okay. Even as the warning bells were ringing in Isadore's head, even as he knew a hallway in a public school probably wasn't the best place to confess to the truth, he could vaguely feel himself sitting down in front of the other boy on the cold, tile floor. What am I doing? Why am I doing this, why now? He stared blankly at the Inquisitor, eyes unfocused and dazed. Ah, that's right. The Inquisitor, you can't lie to him. You can't lie to the all-knowing.


Words were forming in Isadore's head, and before he could catch them and swallow them back down into the murky depths of his mind, they skittered across his tongue and through his lips. "I..." His voice hitched slightly. Isadore glanced down at his hands, the ketchup stain now a dull, crusty red. He could never wash that off, it would always be there. Reminding him, that deep red color that ran through his fingers. It was wet yet searingly cold, like needles of ice that burrowed into his palms. Liquid nitrogen. Properties: Preservation of carcasses and other goods. Application: before disposal... "I..." The Inquisitor sat there, still impassive and unmoving. It spoke, a familiar warmth from a faceless expression. Do you really want him to know, my precious little boy? "I want you to know." Isadore darling, the truth kills. "I kill."


He was standing in a small, white room. Before him, in a little blue chair, was a small, trembling form. Such weak prey. I can kill it. Can't I? Leaning in closely, he studied the boy's features. Brown hair, dark eyes, a thin face. I know you. The boy nodded, still shaking with mirth. Why are you laughing? Death isn't such a humorous matter. Isadore looked up at him. That's not the truth, is it? The truth is... He could feel himself smiling, the lockers and school walls melting away the whitewashed enclosure of his little room. He was back there, and back here too. In front of Nick. The truth is..."It's fun."

 

[spectro]

"Felicity. Have you got everything?" The nurse looked at Felicity. She nodded, slowly, still staring out of the car window and not really thinking about the question. You are strong Fliss. You can make friends. Maybe read those books you've been saving. "Then I guess it's time to go. Wuld you like em to come with me? I can-"


"No. I'll be just fine." Fliss opened her car door and yanked her backpack over her shoulder. Just breath in. 1...2...3...And out. 1...2...3...


She shut the door without saying goodbye to the nurse, after all, she had no emotional ties to her. There was no need to waste time on petty things such as goodbyes. Fliss stood on the gravel drive. It crunched under her feet as she walked and studied the house before. Red brick indicates the industrial era, perhaps the 1900's, late 1800's. She scanned through her contextual knowledge and applied to help her date the house. She stepped closer to the door and looked at the bronze knocker. Installed not too long ago, slight signs of rust showing so perhaps just under 50 years ago. She pulled it up and tapped it gently on the wooden door. The paint was peeling slightly and she wanted desperately to fix it.


After waiting for a few minutes, she pulled the other handle of her rucksack over her shoulder and bent down sightly. Her thin, plainly manicured hand pulled open the letter box. "Hello?" She squeaked. "Anyone there?" She sighed and stood up.





"Hello?" Jodie heard a small voice. She got off the back door step and walked to the front of the house where a girl stood, looking slightly confused. "Oh-are you new here?" She walked closer, folding her arms in the cold.





Ah, a friendly face. She seems kind enough although red hair may suggest an aggressive attitude, but it could be dyed, in which case-"Hello. I am Felicity Tanner. This is Sunny Brooks Orphanage, correct?" She stepped forward and held out her hand. She tried to make her voice sound deeper than it's usual tone. Unfortunately she was cursed with an overly high pitched voice, which wasn't helpful when you wanted to be a successful detective and people wouldn't take you seriously.





"Correct." Jodie looked her up and down. She was wearing thin blue jeans and a tartan jacket that looked warm. Her boots were brown and poked out of the bottom of her trousers. "Come on, I'll show you around." She walked past her and opened the door.


Why didn't I think of that?

 

[Pine]

Everything began to slow down. The tension in his muscles began to unwind, his shaking had reverted to smaller shivers and his heart began to slow. All of the rage that had just moments ago fueled him was depleting now, the emotional turmoil that had stirred inside of his being calmed at the sight of the other boy's hesitance. Nick could not have read the other boy's expression if he had studied it for hours a day. What was that, surprise? shame? guilt? Had he struck a nerve?


He looked carefully as the other boy sat across from him then, surprised that Isadore had done so. Though obviously he had enough space in the hallway to properly seat himself, Nick still pulled his legs closer to his chest, an intense throbbing in his ankle torturing his conscious anyway. The silence in the hallway was deafening, even louder than the bell and bodies that began to fill the hall. He really wished Isadore would just say something, instead of just sitting there... He began to feel disconcerted, his lips pulling down in a grimace.


Nick had barely begun to relax before his body started to kick into overdrive again. This time, however, it was not out of anger. The longer he waited for Isadore to say something, the more short phrases the boy uttered out at varying vocal ranges, the less he felt comfortable - secure, even. Nick began to doubt himself, regret ever bringing it up, but... he had to know. He had to know whatever his roommate was struggling to say. He looked down at the other boy's open palms, vaguely wondering what was so captivating about them that they seemed to arrest all of his attention.


He looked back up when the other boy finally spoke, blinking at the first full phrase he had managed to speak. "I want you to know." Silence. "I kill."


Nick's chest tightened, the sudden pounding of his heart feeling like it was doing so to fight all the pressure that was suddenly bearing down on it. His face was frozen, not contorting in fear, not even blinking, keeping all of his panic locked inside of him. This time, without a doubt passing through his mind, he knew Isadore was telling the truth. But you knew all along, didn't you? He told you and you knew what he was, but you don't like the truth much, do you? The other boy wasn't even looking at him. Was he even in the room? Then he delivered the worst line of all of his confession, what really finalized it all: "It's fun."


Silence again. Without a doubt, people were talking, looking, wanting to get to their locker, but it was almost like a wide berth had formed around them. Finally, a thought managed to break through his mind. I want to go home. Hard as it was to believe, amidst all of his apprehension, the most predominant feeling that came through was sorrow. Nick had not once been happy with the prospect of moving again, the process of integrating himself in some new society, but his displeasure was stronger now than ever. He missed it all. His heart ached for the sweltering summer days, trampling in the mud with the patter of feet shortly behind him because they were playing with the hose. He longed for a cap to be pulled over his head and always seeing a warm, smiling face when he tugged it back up. The sting from blisters and ant bites covering his palms and legs felt welcoming from a day of hanging around in the dense foliage. He would even say that he missed the solitude he often received at his second home, then that belonging that came from spending nights in a tree house or eating dinner with another family. There was nothing in this place for him.


What could happen to someone to make them become like this? Anti-social personality disorder? That could explain it. Nick's mind was swirling with questions, but he didn't want to know the answer to any of them, not this time. Why do you want me to know? Why would you admit this to me? I could have been trying to kill you just then, why am I still breathing? You obviously know what you're doing, why land such a weak blow? Do you have the humility to not do this stuff in public? No, you're just too clever for that, aren't you? The pads of Nick's fingers slid into his palm, his knuckles pressing to crack against the floor as he stared forward, his expression still equally blank. If nothing else, he looked tired, anguished.


Why this more than anything? Why did he only feel pain? Why was this so much worse than goth girl's advice from the night before? Because you wanted to get buddy-buddy with the psychopath. It didn't matter now. There was no taking back his accusations, no way he could undo hearing the other boy's confessions. What do I do for fun? I prank call numbers and mime everything the other line says, I flush toilets while people shower, I reset alarm clocks so people run to the school hours early... The hallway around them was emptying, the last of the students beginning to file into their classroom. I can't stay here. He couldn't run, though. Not in a literal sense and not even in a figurative sense. What could he do then?


His vision began to get a little misty, his eyes no longer focused, either. I think I'm gonna' be sick. He felt nauseous, the burning of bile beginning to creep up his jugular, but he swallowed it back down. What he needed to do was take it easy for the day with his leg, and just moments ago he was pounding on it. Way to go. And I'm so not in the mood to deal with Nurse Bitch. At the moment, running away from the orphanage was not an option. He was emotionally drained, so charming someone and being able to stay with them was not an option. Hell, he couldn't even think of how he could move rooms. There was always confronting the problem directly... Yeah, right. How are you going to magically change this boy, genius? Don't forget, people don't like you.


Finally, Nick stirred. The boy struggled to get out a shaky sigh, but afterward put his hands on the lockers to help him rise to his feet. "Okay." He had uttered the single word so soft, even with the hallway empty now, Isadore would have to have been listening to hear it. His ankle throbbed infinitely worse than it had before, now his body shaking just from the effort of standing, and leaving one hand on the lockers to support him practically a necessity. He picked up a slow hobble to the cafeteria. Of course, he hadn't been paying attention during his chase, so he had no clue where it was, but he would find it eventually. He didn't care about this school anymore, or fixing his schedule, because he didn't want to stay here anyway, but he just wanted to grab everything anyway. After that, he would just go back to the orphanage, hopefully able to return before school was over. He wanted to be in the room, already sleeping soundly, before Isadore even stepped in.

 

[Trignome]

Pain.


The river of students passed around him, filing away into their classrooms. Still, he watched the two boys in the hallway, neither one moving. He was vaguely aware of the taller boy's unfocused expression, wet with tears that refused to fall. The brown-haired boy sat impassively, smiling down at his hands. You scare me, Isadore. The little boy looked up from his red hands with a smile, turning to whisper a single word to him. Pain. His rib-cage shattered, little fractures in the bone that left splinters in the black flesh of his heart. He backed up against the lockers, but they made no comforting sound. The white walls of the room were silent, passive. Now, a white, intangible void behind him that released all the air in the room. There was the boy. There was the chair. I...can't breathe. The Inquisitor's porcelain smooth face twisted into a mouthless grin, tugging at the corners that caused ripples to appear on the milky surface. It hurts, does it not? Cringing, he could feel the shards of his broken cage digging deeper into his chest. This is pain? Pale, slender arms wrapped around the back of Isadore's blue chair, entrapping him. Protecting him. Yes my love, this is what 'pain' is. Horrible, isn't it?





Two walls of lockers. There was Nick. He feels this too. Is his heart also...black? Again, the comforting numbness of its embrace, though its voice was warm as honey. Oh, do not say such silly things, Isadore. Your heart is special. It ran a finger down the pulsating, dark lump in his chest. Tugging gently on a small shard, the Inquisitor pulled the white bone out, leaving a minuscule hole that slowly closed up. Your heart is special. It does not bleed. He watched, grasping the small sliver in his hand tightly as the Inquisitor released Isadore from its frigid hug. Isadore kicked his feet against the little blue chair, smiling up at him. He asked the boy again. What is the truth? The little boy grinned widely at him. I kill.





"Okay." Nick shakily sighed, getting up and slowly hobbling away down the hall. He watched him go. Is it alright, giving him this truth? Isadore patted him reassuringly on the back. Pain. I want you to know, it's fun. Smiling playfully at him once more, Isadore jumped up from his seat and grasped the Inquisitor's hand. The two figures walked into the white void, melting away into stillness. He was now alone.


Isadore blinked, glancing about the empty hallway. Nick was nowhere to be seen. He was now alone.

 

[spectro]

"This is the kitchen. It's okay, but it's not exactly full with exotic foods. If you want something to eat, I suggest you go to the store and get yourself. Also, if the food has anyone else's name on it-Don't take it." Jodie sat down at the head of the kitchen table, finishing her tour.


"And," Felicity was making mental notes of the rooms she had been in and the tips Jodie had given. Don't look at anyone for too long, don't go in anyone elses room, don't steal anyone's food. Fliss started to feel like this was a very anti-social place. "Where will I be sleeping?" She had been waiting for the red haired girl to show her to her room, but she was yet to get to that.





"Actually, I don't know. I suppose you could sleep in Raja's room, she's in the hospital with Mick; she won't be home any time soon." Jodie scratched her chin, thinking.


"May I be shown to this room?" Fliss' mind floated over the person whom the room belonged to. All she needed to do was put down her back pack; it was killing her. Her laptop computer was weighing her down and she could feel the loose pens in her the bottom of her bag dig into her spine.


"It's up the stairs, last on the left." Jodie looked down at her hands and dismissed Fliss, too bored to move.


Almost silently, Fliss walked up the stairs, each step creaking under her boots. The carpet that covered the steps had a repetitive pattern of triangles and lines. Probably a Latino or Spanish design. Fliss searched through her memory of patterns and tapestries, thinking of all the museums she had been to that had displayed Roman and Aztec cloth. The pattern fascinated her so much that she tripped over it and fell flat on her face. "Ahk!" She rolled onto her knees and rubbed her nose. No one came to help, not that she minded. After all, she had to look after herself now.

 

[Rise]

Ava was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to keep herself from sighing for the billionth time. She shook her head as she exhaled and got up, she had been in her room for quite a while. What to do...? She wondered what she could do around this place since she wasn't as good terms with the two people she spoke to in this orphanage.


She put on a sweater, feeling a bit chilly, pulling out her hair from inside and sweeping it over her shoulder. Walking over to the door, she opened it and stepped out. As soon as she stepped out, she heard a thump and then a yell right after coming from what she assumed was Raja's room, since no one occupied it for some time.


Is Raja back? I hope that kid's alright... Ava started to walk down the hall, wondering if she should say hello. She bit her lip as she stopped in front of the door and knocked softly before she could stop herself. "Raja...?"

 

[spectro]

A banging noise came from the other side of the door and a small voice said, "Raja...?" Fliss put down her bag and sighed. Visitors? Already? I want to write my daily journal. She padded over to the door, her boots still on and opened the door just enough so that she could peek through the side. "Nope. I'm Fliss." She smiled awkwardly. The girl behind the door looked tired and a little sad. Fliss wanted to say something, cheer her up maybe, but she wasn't too good at that. Instead she just stood, awkwardly waiting for a reply. A name perhaps. Her journal waiting patiently in her bag.

 

[Rise]

Ava's eyes widened at the stranger that was not Raja. "O-oh. Hello, Fliss. I'm Ava," she said as she stood there awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. She wasn't good at greeting newcomers on her own.


"Well, I thought Raja was here, but I guess not. Sorry for disturbing you..." She quickly turned on her heel and walked away.

 

[Pine]

Nick had probably retraced his steps at least five times before he managed to find the cafeteria. Even then, getting in was something of a problem, as the doors were locked. Even if he had the tools on his person to pick a lock, he was sure that wouldn't go over well with whoever caught him doing so. Instead, he had to stand there knocking until a custodian finally noticed him lingering outside. The man wouldn't let him in, but he did retrieve all of his papers and returned his backpack full with them, as they were about to drop it off in the lost-and-found once they were done in there anyway. Nick had a small epiphany at the time that he was finally able to resume his trek to the front of the office. If they have security cameras in the school, he might have some explaining to do... some explaining that he wouldn't do.


In contrast to the multitude of wrong turns that he had taken in the school, he made it back to the orphanage without having to turn back once in spite of his doubt, which saved him a lot of time, though school would be getting out soon anyway. Throughout the duration of his trip back, the thoughts that had filled his head for entertainment were growing increasingly sardonic. By the end of it, he had fleshed out two different but equally creative suicides.


Nick was even more determined than ever to avoid the people in this place. If any of them so much as attempted to speak to him, he had a reservoir of curt responses in his memory bank that he would undoubtedly pull out. Just grab those few things and go back up to your room. His leg only seemed to ache all the more now that he was so close to getting off of it, his limb shaking uncontrollably when he stood in place, but it would only be worse if he had to go back down stairs, so he steeled himself and began to dig through the kitchen. Guess who's going to skip dinner... again. The nausea from earlier was still present, so he supposed it didn't matter in the end.


Finding some sort of business card for Sunny Brook Orphanage pinned to the wall, he tore that down and stuffed it in his pocket. The worst part of it all was that after he had checked almost every drawer and cabinet, he was certain that, if there were any Ziploc bags to be found (there should be, since Isadore had one), it was in the cabinet that the trash can was blocking. Just coming to this conclusion was enough to make his heart flutter. Nick took in a shaky breath, taking his eyes off of it in an effort to ease his anxiety. It didn't work. Finally, Nick grabbed one of the chairs from the table and held it in such a way that he could scoot that thing off to the side, far away from where he would be standing, then set the chair down and opened the cabinet. Eureka, his mind intoned with exaggerated sarcasm. He selected a decent sized bag and began to scoop ice into it from what he had determined to be the freezer.


Okay, that should be everything. He blinked, leaning against the counter, finally recalling his previous resolve to check on Jodie. Nick licked his lips, noting how dry they were, on the verge of cracking, and shook his head. That was before the day turned to shit. I don't care anymore.


He was lucky enough to arrive to his room without incident, making him vaguely wonder where everyone was. Unless they all managed to hole themselves up in the living room. Nick dropped his backpack off at the side of the table and, after kicking off his shoes and socks, seated himself in the chair. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief to finally be off his foot and slumped back in the chair to relish the moment. Sitting there with his eyes shut for a good several minutes, he finally decided to get to work. He set his phone to vibrate for an early morning alarm, as the thought of avoiding his roommate and just walking to school again had crossed his mind (but he needed to be there long before school started anyway). Nick set the bag of ice down on his ankle, hissing at the sudden cold, but forced himself to leave it there and wait for it to turn numb. Afterward, he pulled out the multitude of papers he had received from the counselor and ripped a page from his notebook. Using the business card as a reference, he practiced scribbling Michael's (presumably the man from before) sloppy signature several times on the loose leaf paper before setting to forge it. With that done - and he was quite impressed with himself - he finished with signing his name and the date for what seemed like every other page without bothering to read a word of that. Finally, he hunched over his schedule to finish all the corrections he had to make.


With all of that done, he had perhaps an hour to himself. I bet they don't even fix that schedule before I leave. Well, then again, do I want to save up for a bike? Do I want to stay here that long? Nick twisted in his chair, pulling himself in either direction, causing a chain of soothing pops to rush up his back. He rolled his neck back, then with a long sigh from his nose, locked his fingers together to cup the back of his head as he settled back in the chair once again. Pulling each finger until it cracked subconsciously, he looked across the room to the window.


He had not bothered to flick on the lights when he entered, in anticipation of the nap he had planned to take, leaving the only light in the room to be filtered through the window. He could feel his pupils contract upon looking directly into the light, as it was still very bright outside, which was easy enough to tell through the crack in the blinds. Nick couldn't shake the feeling that there was an ominous presence in the room, made worse by the lack of lighting in the room. What could it possibly be? That notebook. Nick stared at the spot where he knew it was stashed away, the same object that had been the source of his admiration just that morning taking on a more twisted meaning. I want to burn it.


Nick kept his eyes glued to the spot, seriously considering this course of action. All those secrets... whatever they were, it would be lost to Isadore... He sighed again, blinking rapidly for the time he had kept his eyes open, and looked back at the table. No, bad idea. Even discounting for the fact that he would have to go downstairs again to search for a match or whatever he would use, he wouldn't take to kindly to that. And he would know it was me.


Forcing himself to take his mind off of it, he wadded up the paper of false signatures and pushed it to the corner of the table and replaced everything back into his backpack, save for the pen and notebook. I wonder if I can figure out how to calculate what it would take to impale myself, he thought with grim humor. Nick did a series of searches on his phone. Let's see, gravity is rounded to 9.81 m/s, and I think last time I weighed in at 158... but I've definitely grown since then... There was a lot of uncertainty to it, but within moments, he was jotting down formulas of force, running quick calculations on the page, and in general filling the page with all sorts of math and science that he was unsure about.


After a while, he settled back in the chair, biting absently down on the end of his pen cap and blew a sigh around it. It would probably help if I've actually taken physics. Alas. Nick closed the notebook and scooted it over to the side, finally resigning to take that nap. He checked his watch. Still have a few minutes until school is over, I think. Without any more delay, he grabbed the bag from off his foot, which was mostly a cold liquid now, and gripped the back of the chair to stand. He winced, making a quiet, indignant noise, pain signals shooting through his body in spite of the cold numbness. Nick lifted his foot such that only his toes touched on the ground to help a little with balance and took a few quick limps to cross to his bed.


Nick dropped heavily onto the bedside, sparing a moment to hiss at the pain that was still present. After that, he removed his jeans and leaned over to stuff it in his suitcase, but this time left his shirt on. Finally, he slipped under the linen sheets, setting the bag down on his ankle once again, not having the energy to replace it with ice, and buried his face in the pillow with absolutely no expectation of catching a wink of sleep.

 

[spectro]

"Oh, no wait." Fliss suddenly felt awful for being so blank. She stepped out into the corridor and coughed. Perhaps you could show me around? A girl tried to before, but she didn't show me who's room was who's and such." She folded her arms, her coat pulling a little too tightly on the inside of her elbow. She pushed away the thought of her journal, although every day for the past 15 years she had written in it at this time. It's fine, what will an hours difference make? She tried to convince herself.

 

[Rise]

Ava stopped and turned to her. "Um, there really isn't much to show. It's not that big of a place," she said, edging back a bit, "That was probably Jodie that showed you around and she probably gave you the gist of this place, so... but I'd be happy to show you whatever you wanted to see, I guess..."

 

[ChronosDesine]

Aaron stood up from the chair and went upstairs. He walked into his room and closed the door quietly. He didn't really feel like interacting with other people. Looking at his desk he saw that he still had a pile of books. It reminded him of homework. He pulled his homework out of his backpack and made it. It wasn't that much but it wasn't fun either.

 

[spectro]

And now Fliss felt like she was intruding. But no; she had asked this girl to show her around, now she was going to. She didn't need to feel conflicted about it. It's not like Fliss said it as an order. No, it's not like there, Fliss. They don't know who you were. It's a new start. She smiled and followed after the girl. "Maybe just show me where everyone's room is?" She said inquisitively. I truth, she just wanted to see the others' rooms.

 

[Rise]

"Um, sure, but I'm not allowed to show you into their rooms," Ava said as she started walking slowly down the hall. "Obviously, the one you were in was Raja's, the caretaker person, and the one farther away is the head of the orphanage..." She pointed at the doors, "Bathroom, and that's Cain's, Aaron's, Isadore's and Nick's, Jodie's..." She placed a hand on Ben's door for a moment before saying, "Ben's..." She turned to the door across from Ben's. "And that's mine."


Ava wondered if she should show Fliss her room, though it was quite boring and nothing to show really. She decided against it anyway and walked to her door opening it. "Not sure if you want to see mine."