|
Post by Smoke on Apr 24, 2010 20:02:46 GMT -5
This is a standard dorm, with two beds, two desks, a TV, a window, a dresser, and a bathroom adjoining to Dorm 105.
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 24, 2010 20:30:57 GMT -5
Rhys dropped a pair of duffel bags on the desk and threw himself onto the bed. He picked off one shoe, then the other, and then lay flat, letting out a heavy breath.
Stupid fucking relatives. Hauling ten tons of shit from one dorm to another and all he has takes one trip. Fucking embarrassment.
He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off.
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 24, 2010 21:13:26 GMT -5
It had taken Blaise a week to finally get his dorm assignments; the headmistress had nowhere to put him and had temporarily shoved him into the auxiliary dorm, which was little more than a broom closet with a bed, and for several days forgotten about him. It had taken him storming into her office and demanding a proper room to finally get an assignment, and even so she hadn't initially remember who he was, and he nearly got a detention for "insolent behavior."
Finally, however, she gave him a dorm number and a key, and Blaise loaded up his suitcases to haul them down the stairs onto the second floor to his dorm. The entire process was rather humiliating; there was no one to help him with his bags, which left him with a bag slung over each shoulder, a suitcase tucked under his left arm, and a large rolling suitcase trailing behind him. The rolling suitcase bumped all the way down the staircase, and once came unsnapped and threw his clothing out all over the steps. More than once he dropped his suitcase and had to set everything down in order to pick it back up. He was sorely tempted to call his parents and ask to transfer back to the Bredaeux academy, shapeshifter or not.
He finally made it to dorm and kicked roughly on the door in hopes that his roommate would have the decency to open it. He held tighter to his bags, which were beginning to slip again.
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 24, 2010 21:27:25 GMT -5
Rhys heard some kind of loud sound in his sleep, and he shifted onto his side.
There was another one. He made a low rumbling sound and opened his eyes. ...The door. Right.
He got up and walked over to open it. There was a pile of suitcases with a boy beneath them- the blond boy from his French class. He twitched visibly in irritation and confusion and pulled the door completely open, stepping out of the way.
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 0:12:58 GMT -5
Blaise raised an eyebrow incredulously. "You're my roommate?" He couldn't be too picky, he supposed. This school was barely a step up from public school. "Help me with these bags, and don't drop them." Blaise shoved half of his bags into the brunette's arms and brushed past him, tossing his bags onto the bed.
The room was rather unimpressive -- the walls were plain gray stones, the television was smaller than his suitcase, and the bed was only a twin size box-spring mattress. It was practically a prison, but at least this one had room for his things and a window.
He wrinkled his nose. "It'll do, I suppose," he sighed.
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 0:39:15 GMT -5
Rhys' expression dropped into a glare. "The hell were you expecting, then, Kemekin Evans-Barros?"
He grunted as he took Blaise's bags and sat them on the closest surface that wasn't the floor.
"So are you gonna whine about this?" He said mildly. "Because uh, if that's the case, I should go save a spot in the student lounge, where it's quieter, to do my homework."
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 1:16:18 GMT -5
Blaise's eyes widened, and he blanched slightly at the comment. "You..." Blaise snorted, not finishing the comment. There were about a thousand things he could have said, but Blaise decided it would be a waste of his energy.
He snapped open his suitcases, hardly giving Rhys another look. "I'm putting my things away, and then I'm going to sit quietly on my laptop and talk to my friends. If you don't bother me, I won't bother you. Hopefully we can manage a sort of peaceful co-existence, at least until I manage to get transferred back to my old school -- which, unfortunately, will probably be until the end of the semester."
Blaise sat in the floor, carefully folding up his clothes and slipping them into the dresser. He had brought a very small portion of his wardrobe -- he only had room for so many bags -- but the clothing he did bring was all designer brand and very expensive, the sort of clothing that people like his roommate probably only saw on television.
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 1:23:52 GMT -5
"Heh." Rhys smirked. "All right then. I'm going back to sleep."
He walked back over to his bed and flomped down on it; after a moment, he picked his head back up and looked at Blaise. "What are you, anyhow? One of those mages?"
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 1:39:15 GMT -5
By now, Blaise had progressed to his second suitcase, which was filled partially with non-essential items like his ipod and a few books, as well as a few more items of clothing. Blaise was working on sticking his tuxedo jacket onto a hanger when Rhys spoke.
Blaise grimaced. He would have given half his trust fund to be a mage instead. There was power in that. It was respectable.
"You say that like being a mage would be a bad thing," he replied. "What does that make you then, a vampire?" He sniffed, turning up his nose. "You certainly look like you could be."
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 2:03:54 GMT -5
Rhys rolled over onto one side and grinned. Now wasn't that an interesting expression?
"Nah, I just figured, massive power to warp reality... that would explain his personality. Too bad for you." He licked his lips. "I'm a lycanthrope. They sent me here 'cause they're afraid I'll get mad and bite somebody, or make them sick, y'know? I made a few people sick... I don't mean to, just happens."
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 2:33:05 GMT -5
Rhys reeked of a mixture of anger and sadistic pleasure; it burned Blaise's nose, and reminded him slightly of gasoline. "Make people sick?" he repeated slowly. "What, do you just troll about biting people?"
Now that he thought about it, the room's scent did have a slight undercurrent death, like rotting flesh. At first Blaise had put it off as the odor of the castle, but the more he focused on it, the more it did seem to come from Rhys.
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 2:38:36 GMT -5
"Nah. This is some kind of power I don't have any control over yet. Did you piss off whoever assigns the rooms?" He chuckled. Rhys was almost beginning to like this guy.
"Seriously, though, what are you? You're not a mage and you think vampires are stupid, if you don't even want to be here you're probably not mortal, and... you don't smell like a lycanthrope. So either you're some other kind of shapeshifter, or you're another one of those kids that thinks they're a faerie. Are you a faerie, Park?"
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 3:10:31 GMT -5
Blaise begun packing away his sports equipment, pausing over his tennis racket. The racket was expensive, a deep shiny red, and monogrammed with his initials. He wondered briefly how much damage it would do to the racket if he shoved the handle down the other boy's throat.
He leaned back against the wall, staring down his aquiline nose at his roommate. The boy was smallish, and not very athletic looking, particularly for a lycanthrope. Blaise probably could have hurt him, if he'd wanted to, and it was suddenly very tempting. His hand tightened on the racket.
"You're a dipshit," he snapped, setting the racket on top of the bureau. He wondered how much he would have to pay the headmistress to get a new roommate, or a room alone.
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 3:13:30 GMT -5
Rhys narrowed his eyes, made a low growling sound, and closed them.
Never fucking works. Don't even know what the hell I was trying to get to work.
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 3:47:26 GMT -5
He sighed, balling up a pair of socks and hurling them into his drawer. The only things left for Blaise to put away were his toiletries -- soap, shampoo, and enough haircare products that Blaise might have single-handedly caused global warming. Those, he decided, could stay in his bag until he needed them. The bathroom was adjoined to another room, which meant four people would be using the same bathroom. He had no intention of letting other people waste his forty dollar hair gel.
He opened up his computer, looking through his contacts list. He sighed. He'd forgotten about the timezone difference; most of his friends were still in classes. It would be hours before any of them were online. He closed the laptop, flopping back on his bed. It wasn't particularly comfortable. He could feel the pressure of the springs pressing into his back. The dark ceiling glared down at him, and he suddenly felt extremely confined. He wanted to be outside in the open air, not cooped up in this musty castle. It smelled like death and mold and despair -- though that last bit might just have been him.
He pushed himself off of his bed and picked the racket up, giving it an experimental swing. It felt remarkably natural, as though it were a part of his arm that should have been there from the beginning, and he realized that it had been a long time since he'd really played.
Blaise looked over at his roommate, and he wasn't quite sure what possessed him to do it. Maybe it was because he desperately wanted to humiliate the boy. Maybe it was because he was wanted human contact, even if it was with a hateful little prick. Maybe he was just so desperate to play that he didn't care who he was up against. He twirled the racket in his hand.
"You know how to swing a racket, don't you?" he asked.
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 3:57:38 GMT -5
Dark feelings twisted through Rhys' stomach. He felt angry, embarrassed, hateful, and exposed all at the same time. And tired. There was that, too. He didn't think he was actually going to get any more sleep.
He wondered if Kathy had needed any help, but it felt pathetic that his stepsister was his only real friend here. Everyone else he'd either driven off or they were a jackass or something.
Blaise spoke, and Rhys opened his eyes again. His feelings twisted again, into something he didn't understand.
"If you mean can I move my arm, yeah," he said neutrally. "Never played tennis. Why?"
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 4:21:33 GMT -5
Rhys' emotions smelled salty for a moment, like sea water. Blaise couldn't quite place the emotion, but it was something almost stormy. He smirked, grabbing his spare racket from behind him and chucking it at Rhys' head. "Think fast, Adler."
He shrugged out of his blazer, tossing it onto his bed. "I'd also recommend you not wearing your uniform, at least if you want to come within a mile of hitting the ball," he commented, pulling a polo and a pair of shorts out of his dresser. They were both blindingly white. "It's going to be too restrictive to run in, and if I wanted to hit the ball at thin air, I could do that without your help."
Blaise set his racket back on the dresser and jerked his sweater vest up over his head, then began working on the buttons of his shirt.
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 4:32:20 GMT -5
Rhys caught the racket just before it smacked into his head, instinctively snarling; then he grinned again, and let out a little sound that might have been a laugh. He really didn't know how to feel now, but physical exertion before he ended up clawing at the bedcovers sounded like a fantastic idea.
He hopped out of bed and went to one of his bags, unzipping it and tossing out his textbooks, extra shoes, and a large beach towel onto the desk, before taking out a pair of black shorts and a fading tshirt advertising a bluegrass concert. He turned around and-
-okay, changing in the room, that's different, is he going to take hi-
Rhys hopped over the bed and into the bathroom to change. Fucking creep, what the hell? He was not going to let this guy make him feel any more weird.
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 4:59:55 GMT -5
Blaise raised an eyebrow, staring after his roommate. He couldn't help but give a slight chuckle as he pulled his polo over his head.
You'd think he'd never been in a locker room before, from that reaction. It's not like I was planning on playing tennis bare-ass naked or something. Even after his roommate dashed out of the room, he could smell his emotions trailing along behind him. That was definitely an interesting response.
Blaise slipped on his tennis shoes, then knocked at the bathroom door with the racket. "Hey, hurry up, will you?"
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 5:07:25 GMT -5
Rhys slipped his shorts on and opened the door.
"Got it." He walked over and stuck his feet back in his never-untied shoes, keeping his gaze elsewhere. He grabbed the racket and stood up. "Where are we playing? Is there a court in the gym or something?"
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 5:16:22 GMT -5
"Most school gyms have a place to set up a tennis net," he replied. "We probably just have to look through the equipment. If there isn't..." He shrugged. "We could play without a net if we had to, though that takes away a little of the challenge."
Blaise pushed open the door and started walking. "But frankly, if this school is so pathetic that they can't get a tennis net, I might transfer out tomorrow morning."
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 5:19:49 GMT -5
"They probably have a tennis net," Rhys said as he followed. "It's probably being used as a hammock or a... a vegetable strainer or something. I don't think they even have a gym teacher here. But I'm sure they have a tennis net somewhere."
"Where were you going before that was so great, anyway?"
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on Apr 25, 2010 5:25:45 GMT -5
"A hammock?" he asked, his voice going shrill. "A vegetable strainer? Don't even joke about something like that."
He stiffened slightly at the mention of his out school. "L'Academie Bredeaux," Blaise replied, in a perfect French accent. "It's the same school my mother attended when she was in high school."
|
|
|
Post by Rhys Adler on Apr 25, 2010 15:26:02 GMT -5
Rhys chuckled under his breath. "Uh... okay. You're serious about this."
He looked over the boy as they walked; like the first time they'd met, he'd blurted out everything he could think of the moment he saw Blaise, and had no idea what else to say.
|
|
|
Post by Blaise Park on May 20, 2010 2:15:04 GMT -5
-------------------------- Blaise stalked into the room and dropped his bag onto the nearest bed, which happened to belong to Rhys. The blond gleamed slightly with sweat, his hair sticking slightly to his face and neck.
"Rhys, you remember Alex. We're going to be watching a movie in here. Hope you don't mind." He shot his roommate a rather wicked grin that meant that Rhys clearly didn't have any say in the matter.
|
|