[ lounge room with harry time. today's weather is GLOOMY RAIN. harry thinks it sucks especially for many reasons - one being that everyone is off their best during such weather. which makes him his worst.
harry, is currently sideways on a sofa, face pressed against the cushion. an arm hanging off it looking pretty pale and tired. eyes on the tv in there, watching infomercials of all things because someone lost the remote.
[To say that John's been distracted for the first week of school is putting it mildly. This is someone he should've noticed, especially given that they're both seniors, but somehow it's slid past him.
All he sees when he walks into the lounge is some sickly looking guy with dark hair spread out on the couch looking miserable. A good deal of his face is hidden by the cushion, so he doesn't think much of it.
Then he gets a better look at what's visible of that face. Especially his eyes.]
[ someone he definitely should've noticed. though if john's been cutting classes, it's easy to miss him. since harry actually goes to class even if he's drunk off his ass during it.
those eyes cut right to him and he immediately sits up, hands going to the hair in question. ]
What? What's wrong with it? [ tip #2 this is not who john thinks it is: the accent that is american instead of petre's european. and the fact that whatever humorous comment petre might've made about switching hair is not there.
instead the guy actually seems genuinely concerned something happened to his hair. the fuck is wrong with it, pyro? he's too paranoid for this shit ]
Did the kid with the fucking static thing come through?
[OK HAVE A REAL TAG I GUESS except i posted it to the wrong place.
fuck the lounge FIGHT THE POWER he's going to knock knock on your bedroom door. no announcement as to who it is or wondering if Harry's in there. better get yo ass out of that bed.]
[ wow ok fine. HE DOESN'T WANT TO GET OUT OF BED. he's le tired. he sluggishly moves over and opens the door.
then there's an obvious flash of surprise at first. his tongue runs along the inside of his mouth, he blatantly looks petre up and down ]
Huh. [ they really weren't kidding about them looking alike. it's like a strange blonde mirror. ...maybe the twin thing wasn't that far off. he'd actually feel a little better about life if there's another member of the family. in a "ha ha dad actually kept me for a little bit. i am loved after all." sort of way. ]
[Ryan's one of the people who actually likes this kind of weather. Everyone else is usually a little down, off their peak, which means it's gloriously fucking quiet on a mental level-- he's in a pretty good mood when he wanders through the lounge, stops to peer at the guy apparently passed out on the sofa with a little concern.
-nah, eyes open, not passed out. Still, he doesn't look great.]
[ his first thoughts before ryan gave any inkling he was there were mostly focused on the boring television. pointless static. wondering if the stupid pair of knives really could cut through steel. he actually debates calling now for the free set.
and then amusingly calm with the voice that's clearly not his own in his head. his immediate thought is a joke even.
Is there an echo in here?
harry turns his head without picking it up, blue eyes moving to look over at ryan tiredly ]
I'm peachy. How are you?
[ Don't you look in a good mood? Can I borrow it? ]
But I was about to find out if the set was dishwasher safe.
[ a mocking little complaint. he doesn't give a shit about those infomercials. still the guy could've asked if he was watching that instead of miserably staring at it while he passes out on this loveseat. ]
[Maybe people are off their game, but Jewell's in a permanent state of pissed off at the world. Which makes it uncertain where she stands on Harry's chart.
Fact is he's on her spot and she's got no qualms about pulling and shoving him off the couch to claim it back. And rightfully so.
She drops down and grabs the remote. Maybe it was never lost in the first place.]
[ pissed is fueled by something so it's better than being dead - even if the energy doesn't taste as nice. and always just ...pisses him off a bit back.
also not tasting great? the floor. which he's now on. what the fuck ]
Wow. [ he's grabbing her ankle on the way to pick himself up, using it as leverage. and maybe revenge... by yanking it to try and pull her off the spot he was so rudely shoved out of. ]
[Well, as it turns out, Petre really did take blame for the New York trip. Thorough blame. So much blame, in fact, that John's punishment pales in comparison - he's got library duty for the better part of the morning and afternoons not taken up by classes, shelving books when they come in and just scanning for misshelvings when there are none. Sometimes he dusts, or sweeps the floors. They think the quiet, peaceful environment and monotonous work might help to soothe him, and the setting is good for keeping him away from others who might drag him into trouble.
The last point seems to be working, but the first two are nearly driving him insane. He can be found anywhere in the broad, expansive room, a converted ballroom, looking jittery and tense and generally miserable.]
[Otoha is in the library, holding a piece of paper and looking irritated. He can't figure this word out, and he stalks over to the reference section, grabbing a Japanese-English dictionary. He flips through it for a moment, and frowns. Oh. That's what it means. He flips it closed and shoves it back on the shelf. Wait. That doesn't look right. He pulls it out and puts it back where it's supposed to go, and then looks up at John.]
[Wait. Wait he knows that kid. Or at least he was told about this kid.]
[He's in simple jeans and a t-shirt for his work, and at that question, he just pulls the pockets of his jeans inside-out with a fierce glare. No lighter. No source. Happy?]
[He'd heard about the trip and the punishment-- how could he not, when he picks up on thoughts the way he does-- but he doesn't come to find John immediately. There's a day's delay there while he figures out whether he thinks it's a good idea or not; whether he wants to isn't a factor, Ryan knows he wants to go talk to him, but with no idea where he stands after what happened... well, it's going to be a little awkward. Maybe more than a little.
When he finally shows up, bringing a couple books back early as an excuse to visit the library, he's visibly hesitant- he still flashes John a small smile, but he doesn't get too close.]
[He jumps at the sudden thought in his mind, but then, he's rather jumpy - without his lighter and ensconced in this perfect silence, he feels like his nerves have just been waiting for something to set them off.
When he realizes that it was Ryan, sees that little smile, he almost feels guilty; instead, what he feels is amazingly uncomfortable. The reality of Petre sharing a room with John meant that they had to shuffle Ryan out of there quite fast after they messed around, and it means that nothing's been settles. He knows where he wants it to stand - a friend he can fool around with, the outlet he's needed for awhile - but part of him knows better. Some of Ryan's thoughts were so earnest, almost bordering on possessive (where does he find these guys?), that he suspects he's just taken a very small crush and caused it to blow out of all proportion.
But, well. He has to find out sometime, right?]
Ask me when I'm out of here. This place is driving me nuts. [He flexes his fingers, gives his neck a little roll, then manages a slightly edgy smile in return.] They're not as stupid as the roommate stunt made them look.
[Pyrokinetic in the library, probably looks pretty stupid, but then he turns out his pockets as he did for Otoha. No lighter, and no outer layer that could be holding it either.]
[ some time in the afternoon, harry's in there sitting at a table with a pair of younger students. he's balancing a pencil on his upper lip, rocking a chair on its back legs and definitely eyes john every time he's in view. he'll tip the chair further and risk falling over to keep him in view behind shelves. the students he's with are writing something quietly - and every few minutes they stop and slide their work over to him. he then looks at it with a bored expression and writes all over the paper before sliding it back, correcting. writing tips. sometimes he'll whisper back an explanation.
sometimes he tutors kids. he's good at what they're not and their negativity when they constantly get things wrong brings him down. harry gets to be gleeful the second he doesn't have to correct a thing because they're gleeful for getting it right. good feelings for all. he's not exactly someone who gives a crap if they pass or not but if they're going to live in the same space as him bringing the mood down it needs to be corrected.
speaking of bringing the mood down - john. he's been watching. that miserable expression is unacceptable. what gives? that's not okay. ]
Pssst. [ COME HERE. he's raising a hand and waving him over ]
[Even having the group around is helping out, really. The steady scratching of pencils on paper and whisper of it being handed back and forth isn't much, but it's better than the times when he can only count on pages being turned every now and then to break the silence.
Not that he's paying any attention to their tutor. Some wildly irrational part of him has decided that Harry's to blame for the order that was put on him, simply because he's the one who appeared and was instantly able to cause so much insecurity and jealousy in Petre. The thought of someone else never once bothered him, caused that kind of questioning. Harry and his stupid face somehow drove Petre even further off the deep end.
He'll be beckoned, though. He knows he'll be beckoned.
Yep, there it is.]
Can't exactly socialize right now. [He's leaned in close to Harry's ear just to keep his voice down enough that the supervisor won't notice the two of them.] Can I find you a book?
[Petre's said it himself, to those who cared or stuck around long enough to hear him confess anything about himself: he doesn't feel like other people. Empathy is a mystery, true happiness an illusion, sadness a waste of time. There are things he gets in common with sentimental people, though, and right now that's pure anger. Ever since his last conversation with John Allerdyce he's been on a small rampage of his own, and the faculty is probably coming to their wit's end on what to do about him. Expulsion will make him homeless. Further punishment will only result in more broken rules.
For example, confining him to his room. It's becoming longer and longer since he's had a night's sleep on his own bed, choosing instead to engage with other students willing enough to let him into their quarters. Sometimes he just goes ahead and leaves the school entirely to spend the night out. Only returns with the sun's sitting tall in the sky, still smelling of alcohol and cigarettes.
Gardening's out the window. Cleaning the school. Helping the local community. They can't get him to do anything because he turns around and orders them to leave him alone instead.
Needless to say things are getting a bit chaotic. It's a wonder he's even coming back to the school anymore. Duty or not, people are starting to wonder what's even grounding him here, if anything. Someone needs to talk to him, but the counselor's out of town and the Professor is busy doing... something. Who cares he's a NPC.
Petre may not know how to be like a normal person, but he sure as hell knows how to throw a tantrum.
[It doesn't take long for John to realize that their room's been effectively abandoned. He has to sneak back for showers and clothes, and presumably Petre does too, but the fact that they never meet tells him that the other boy is spending next to no time here.
So he spends a night in the room, and it's safe. Not like he's scared of meeting Petre on a massive bender, or like he feels badly for causing it, but - he supposes he's just surprised anew by the very real impact he has on Petre's life. It all feels like the game he keeps telling himself it is until he's ordered away from contact with every male on the planet, or until Petre comes right off the rails because of one spiteful comment. This is power, yes, but he suddenly understands why Petre finds no satisfaction in using his mutation to order John into doing the one thing he wants. There's no satisfaction in this, either.
He's out of a shower and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, hair messily towel-dried, sitting on his bed with a textbook open in his lap when a key clicks in the lock and he freezes in place. Warily, he sets the book aside and watches as the door appears to move in slow motion, Petre's form revealing itself a sliver at a time.]
So. [He keeps his voice mild, no suggestion or implication.] You done yet?
[It's as though Petre was expecting to find the room empty; John calls him out with a question and he looks up like he just realized the room's supposed to have someone else in it. His eyes are a little dazed, lines deeper than usual, denouncing a severe and deliberate lack of proper sleep. His lips are pursed when he sees the other boy, not quite contempt, just something like 'oh. You.' that never quite makes it into words.
Petre doesn't answer, he just walks on over to his bed and drops the key and takes out whatever he's been keeping in his pocket. Just one condom, a phone, loose cigarettes and a cheap plastic lighter. They took his prized golden one.]
Am I done yet? [He motions his head with a slight mock-tone, words paced and eloquent. I don't know, John. What am I supposed to be done with?
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COMMON AREAS
lounge for whoever
harry, is currently sideways on a sofa, face pressed against the cushion. an arm hanging off it looking pretty pale and tired. eyes on the tv in there, watching infomercials of all things because someone lost the remote.
uggghhh ]
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All he sees when he walks into the lounge is some sickly looking guy with dark hair spread out on the couch looking miserable. A good deal of his face is hidden by the cushion, so he doesn't think much of it.
Then he gets a better look at what's visible of that face. Especially his eyes.]
- the fuck did you do to your hair?
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those eyes cut right to him and he immediately sits up, hands going to the hair in question. ]
What? What's wrong with it? [ tip #2 this is not who john thinks it is: the accent that is american instead of petre's european. and the fact that whatever humorous comment petre might've made about switching hair is not there.
instead the guy actually seems genuinely concerned something happened to his hair. the fuck is wrong with it, pyro? he's too paranoid for this shit ]
Did the kid with the fucking static thing come through?
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[He stumbles backward, eyes wide, and winds up landing in a chair. The wrong way, legs over one arm and back against the other.]
Who are you.
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this is a tag
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fuck the lounge FIGHT THE POWER he's going to knock knock on your bedroom door. no announcement as to who it is or wondering if Harry's in there. better get yo ass out of that bed.]
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then there's an obvious flash of surprise at first. his tongue runs along the inside of his mouth, he blatantly looks petre up and down ]
Huh. [ they really weren't kidding about them looking alike. it's like a strange blonde mirror. ...maybe the twin thing wasn't that far off. he'd actually feel a little better about life if there's another member of the family. in a "ha ha dad actually kept me for a little bit. i am loved after all." sort of way. ]
Hello, hello. [ all smiles now ]
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obvs he needs the whole triangle
-nah, eyes open, not passed out. Still, he doesn't look great.]
...hey, you okay over there?
obviously
and then amusingly calm with the voice that's clearly not his own in his head. his immediate thought is a joke even.
Is there an echo in here?
harry turns his head without picking it up, blue eyes moving to look over at ryan tiredly ]
I'm peachy. How are you?
[ Don't you look in a good mood? Can I borrow it? ]
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don't shit your eyes ryan
shh you saw nothing
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Much better.
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[ a mocking little complaint. he doesn't give a shit about those infomercials. still the guy could've asked if he was watching that instead of miserably staring at it while he passes out on this loveseat. ]
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Fact is he's on her spot and she's got no qualms about pulling and shoving him off the couch to claim it back. And rightfully so.
She drops down and grabs the remote. Maybe it was never lost in the first place.]
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also not tasting great? the floor. which he's now on. what the fuck ]
Wow. [ he's grabbing her ankle on the way to pick himself up, using it as leverage. and maybe revenge... by yanking it to try and pull her off the spot he was so rudely shoved out of. ]
You could have just told me to move.
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Library: morning and afternoon, two weeks
The last point seems to be working, but the first two are nearly driving him insane. He can be found anywhere in the broad, expansive room, a converted ballroom, looking jittery and tense and generally miserable.]
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[Wait. Wait he knows that kid. Or at least he was told about this kid.]
They put someone with fire powers in the library?
[Are the rest of the faculty that stupid?]
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That was probably the best part of it.
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When he finally shows up, bringing a couple books back early as an excuse to visit the library, he's visibly hesitant- he still flashes John a small smile, but he doesn't get too close.]
Exciting job, huh.
[And, after a brief pause-]
Worth it?
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When he realizes that it was Ryan, sees that little smile, he almost feels guilty; instead, what he feels is amazingly uncomfortable. The reality of Petre sharing a room with John meant that they had to shuffle Ryan out of there quite fast after they messed around, and it means that nothing's been settles. He knows where he wants it to stand - a friend he can fool around with, the outlet he's needed for awhile - but part of him knows better. Some of Ryan's thoughts were so earnest, almost bordering on possessive (where does he find these guys?), that he suspects he's just taken a very small crush and caused it to blow out of all proportion.
But, well. He has to find out sometime, right?]
Ask me when I'm out of here. This place is driving me nuts. [He flexes his fingers, gives his neck a little roll, then manages a slightly edgy smile in return.] They're not as stupid as the roommate stunt made them look.
[Pyrokinetic in the library, probably looks pretty stupid, but then he turns out his pockets as he did for Otoha. No lighter, and no outer layer that could be holding it either.]
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sometimes he tutors kids. he's good at what they're not and their negativity when they constantly get things wrong brings him down. harry gets to be gleeful the second he doesn't have to correct a thing because they're gleeful for getting it right. good feelings for all. he's not exactly someone who gives a crap if they pass or not but if they're going to live in the same space as him bringing the mood down it needs to be corrected.
speaking of bringing the mood down - john. he's been watching. that miserable expression is unacceptable. what gives? that's not okay. ]
Pssst. [ COME HERE. he's raising a hand and waving him over ]
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Not that he's paying any attention to their tutor. Some wildly irrational part of him has decided that Harry's to blame for the order that was put on him, simply because he's the one who appeared and was instantly able to cause so much insecurity and jealousy in Petre. The thought of someone else never once bothered him, caused that kind of questioning. Harry and his stupid face somehow drove Petre even further off the deep end.
He'll be beckoned, though. He knows he'll be beckoned.
Yep, there it is.]
Can't exactly socialize right now. [He's leaned in close to Harry's ear just to keep his voice down enough that the supervisor won't notice the two of them.] Can I find you a book?
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VARIOUS, pick your own
For example, confining him to his room. It's becoming longer and longer since he's had a night's sleep on his own bed, choosing instead to engage with other students willing enough to let him into their quarters. Sometimes he just goes ahead and leaves the school entirely to spend the night out. Only returns with the sun's sitting tall in the sky, still smelling of alcohol and cigarettes.
Gardening's out the window. Cleaning the school. Helping the local community. They can't get him to do anything because he turns around and orders them to leave him alone instead.
Needless to say things are getting a bit chaotic. It's a wonder he's even coming back to the school anymore. Duty or not, people are starting to wonder what's even grounding him here, if anything. Someone needs to talk to him, but the counselor's out of town and the Professor is busy doing... something. Who cares he's a NPC.
Petre may not know how to be like a normal person, but he sure as hell knows how to throw a tantrum.
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So he spends a night in the room, and it's safe. Not like he's scared of meeting Petre on a massive bender, or like he feels badly for causing it, but - he supposes he's just surprised anew by the very real impact he has on Petre's life. It all feels like the game he keeps telling himself it is until he's ordered away from contact with every male on the planet, or until Petre comes right off the rails because of one spiteful comment. This is power, yes, but he suddenly understands why Petre finds no satisfaction in using his mutation to order John into doing the one thing he wants. There's no satisfaction in this, either.
He's out of a shower and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, hair messily towel-dried, sitting on his bed with a textbook open in his lap when a key clicks in the lock and he freezes in place. Warily, he sets the book aside and watches as the door appears to move in slow motion, Petre's form revealing itself a sliver at a time.]
So. [He keeps his voice mild, no suggestion or implication.] You done yet?
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Petre doesn't answer, he just walks on over to his bed and drops the key and takes out whatever he's been keeping in his pocket. Just one condom, a phone, loose cigarettes and a cheap plastic lighter. They took his prized golden one.]
Am I done yet? [He motions his head with a slight mock-tone, words paced and eloquent. I don't know, John. What am I supposed to be done with?
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