Cain pulled back from his friend and plopped down next to him, a smirk settled comfortably across his lips. It was nice to have his friend back; Oscar had gotten terribly irritating without Riff's usual interference run. "How are you? You didn't get arse-raped, did you?" He narrowed his eyes; Dominic was pretty and on the slim side, although he supposed that his friend would curse anyone who touched him to hell and back.
Crehador almost screamed bloody murder at the young man as his heart jumped to his throat. Good thing it lodged there or he would probably have had something unpleasant to say to the young man next to him. Or perhaps a curse would be more suited for the young earl...
He took in a deep breath and ended up yawning again. When he had gotten back home at three in the morning he had told himself it was a bad idea to attend school. But what did he do? For a medium, he never seemed to listen to his instincts.
"Why would I have been arse-raped, Cain? It's juvie." He rolled his eyes at the aristocrats ignorance, "And perhaps you'd know how I was if you had the decency to answer your cell phone once in a blue moon!"
Truthfully, he had called Cain only once during the experience, but the likely-hood that Cain knew that was slim anyways. "I'm terrible. I didn't get sleep, the place is cold, and I'm sure I've come down with something." Hm... perhaps that was why he ignored his instincts...
"I thought you were supposed to be psychic," Cain sniffed haughtily, pulling at the hem of Riff's overlarge sweatshirt. "You're supposed to know that every time my phone rings, I dive for it, my heart leaping into my throat at the possibility that maybe, just maybe, my best friend in the world has forgiven me for my wrongs and welcomed me back into his heart, but when the caller ID flashes as Dominic Crehador, I promptly go into such a fit of agony that it is not that friend that I throw the cell phone out the window and into the fish pond." He clutched his chest dramatically, flinging himself backwards so his head lay on Crehador's shoulder.
He scowled in response to the eye-rolling. He may be sheltered, but he wasn't stupid. "Right. Because there's not a single juvenile delinquent behind bars who's capable of arse-raping someone of your stature," he scoffed, elbowing Crehador in the ribs. "Which is why I am very careful to avoid getting arrested. What'd you do, anyway?" He sat up and gripped Crehador's shoulder, staring at him with mock-serious eyes. "Dominic Crehador, did you kill someone?" One of these days, a spell of his would go horribly wrong. And Cain would probably laugh.
He wanted so badly to wrap his hands around that tiny neck of his friend's and squeeze until it popped off. At least, that way, Cain wouldn't be entirely wrong in him having killed someone.
"No," he managed as calmly as he could in his irritable state, "My mother called the cops on me, because I took money from her." He paused and a thought rolled through his mind. "Why?" he asked slowly, looking at Cain, "What has been said around here?"
Laughter spilled from Cain's lips, partially from the expression on Crehador's face, partially from the reason for his arrest.
"Oh, God--you MOTHER caught you stealing money from her and had you arrested!? I thought for certain you'd blown someone up!" He sighed, grinning a little still. "As for what's being said, I've hear everything from you lifting hubcaps to raping and strangling the mayor's daughter. Silly, really; everyone knows she's just staying with her aunt until she has her baby." He unzipped his bag and pulled out a small card crafted of construction paper and scented markers. "Here--it's a welcome home card. Merry told me to give it to you when you got out."
He took the card from Cain's fingers and looked at the sloppily put together card. One of the drawers in his bedroom was full of similarly made cards ranging in message from 'hello', to 'welcome back', 'sorry', and all other sorts. His mother had found them once and exploded at the prospect of him sneaking around with some woman. He didn't know why that upset her that much... Not that he was interested in the little, blonde girl. "Tell her I say thanks."
He slipped the card into the front pocket of his backpack and stretched a bit. "Yeah, I'm beginning to think I should curse my mom with schizophrenia. That or perhaps I accidently did so? I don't know. But I'm sure beyond anything that she's got something mentally loose up there. Heh. I guess both of us have parents that are like such, huh?"
Dominic turned his head and flashed a smile at Cain. He really didn't much feel up to consulting the topic of the mayor's daughter. The whole mess served only to upturn a lot of aristocrats as her father tried to find the 'punk who knocked up his daughter'. He was still rather surprised that Cain hadn't been suspected- what with his track record and everything. Maybe his fatehr had something to do with it...
"So what have I been missing?" Dominic asked, pulling two granola bars from his pocket. He handed one to Cain and then begun snacking on his own.
(I'll post properly later. Four hour rehearsal I gotta head out to. @~@)
(Oh, wow! @_@ Good luck with that! *muttering to self* Four hours...?! That would kill me!)
(I WANT TO KILL SOMETHING. D< The production team is being STUPID. They're blaming us for all the stuff they're doing wrong. >/)
Cain chuckled fondly. Ahh, dear Merry--she had sworn him to secrecy about the childish crush she had on Cain's most eclectic friend, but her actions were so obvious he wouldn't be surprised if the entire school new about Crehador's not-so-secret admirer.
"Mmm, I'll tell her. She'll be thrilled," he muttered, a smile playing across his lips. "And about your mother, you really think it wise to make her even crazier than she already is?" He cocked an eyebrow. Mrs. Crehador had thrown a vase at him in seventh grade; it was his only memory of her, since he'd avoided the house afterwards.
He scowled at the mention of his own father. "Alexis slept with his sister. You've got nothing on me by way of crazy relatives." He shuddered. Incest, eww.
He discreetly pocketed the granola bar to feed to the fish later, abandoning his chair in lieu of sitting on the table, using the furniture he had been sitting on as a footrest.
"Not too much. Riff's not speaking to me again; he says he won't until I gain five pounds and/or stop threatening to pay him. Neither is likely to happen. It might be permanent this time." A dark look crossed his face. There were only two things they disagreed on--money and food--but they disagreed violently about them. Cain felt awful that he had so much and Riff had so little, and wanted desperately to share; Riff wanted Cain to stop making bets with himself as to how long he could go without eating and how quickly he could lose enough weight to see his chest bones. Their disagreements had culminated two days before when Cain had tried to buy Riff ice cream, but refused to eat any himself. In one of his rare violent moments, Riff had thrown the ice cream in Cain's face and stormed off, and they hadn't spoken since.
"Hmm... paying him may come across as an insult. It's like throwing it in his face that he comes from a middle class family." Crehador spoke more to himself than to Cain. He tapped the granola bar to his mouth and then bit off a piece.
Swallowing, he continued, "And you can always do that in secrecy. Since you do like being discreet." He shot a look at his friend, he knew if Cain wanted to be he could be manipulative. "So just slip him the money. He might not be happy about it when he realizes what you're up to, but he's too nice to confront you right now. And, as for food, just eat in front of him and deny it when he's not around. Of course... that might mean sacrificing some time with him..."
Crehador rustled his hair out of his face, "I suppose you're right about my mother though. If she gets any crazier, I WILL kill someone just so they send me to prison."
(Sorry, about that. People tend to be rather lacing in self-blame, huh? Well, I'll get the other piece later tonight. I have to go out to dinner now. ^_^ Hope you have a nicer evening than you already have been having.)
(Ooh, have fun at dinner! ^^ Jah, my day's looking up a bit. I'm gonna play with my Cain and Riff Sims later. :3)
"I've tried that. He actually pulled the exact same thing and started slipping the money back to me when I wasn't looking." He wrinkled his nose. "He always feeds me such heavy food, though. He made me eat three red velvet cupcakes the other day." He clutched lightly at his stomach and stuck out his tongue. "I was doing so well, too."
He smirked at Crehador's comment. "If it weren't for the concern of prison rape, I'd do just that to get away from Father."
Crehador threw his head back and laughed.
"Let's make us a deal then. If we can ever figure a way around prison rape, then you kill my mother and I'll kill your- Actually, I'll try and find someone to kill yours. I'd like to keep my life away from that slippery snake. Perhaps, Oscar would be dumb-" he cleared his throat, "nice enough to do that for you.
"That sounds like him. Hmm... he's probably too smart for you to outwit him in the money department. But the food one, maybe. Don't always eat what he gives you, but at least bring something light to nibble on. That way you're eating something. He can't argue there."
He reached out and poked his friend in the gut, "Although I do have to say, if you don't eat a lot you can go to homecoming in a dress." He smiled inwardly, and Cain would be just as likely to do so too.
(Sorry this took so long. Computer ate response. Scowl. D<)
"A bit of well-placed cyanide should do the trick for both of them. Hide it in an almond cake and even Father won't be able to tell," Cain replied casually. "As for Oscar, he's stupid, but even he knows not to directly provoke my father." He frowned. He didn't like to admit it, but he had a vicious possessive streak, even when it came to the over-sized buffoon; he couldn't help but get annoyed when anyone other than himself called his friend on his stupidity.
He wrinkled his nose. "I'll try. It seems as though he'd stop bothering me if I ate in front of him, doesn't it? He's awfully perceptive, though. Ah, well. It's not his job to monitor my food intake." He squirmed away from Crehador's finger. "I'll have you know I actually need to gain a kilogram or so before I'll fit into my homecoming dress. Riff is positively euphoric." Another scowl.
Crehador laughed at this. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand while trying to regain his composure. It wasn't entirely abnormal for Cain to call wearing a dress, but it was something that, even if expected, still was something humorous to hear out loud.
"It's your call really. Riff will always be perceptive and you'll probably always have to change your game plan... or bend to his will." Knowing Cain... that wasn't going to happen. "I'm sure Riff will have forgiven you in no time, to say the least. I would imagine he'll be making you something to eat though as a token of apology. I suppose you could always starve yourself a few days before visiting him again. That way you'll actually be hungry."
Crehador shrugged. "As for the dress, you can find yourself a lovely, little tailor... or let Maryweather practice her skills on you." He grinned, "Or let me try mine."
He distractedly rustled through his backpack. Pulling out a sheet of math work, Crehador growled. Trust his friends to actually come by and keep him updated on work. He was bound to be years behind now. Why ever did he listen to his mother on taking AP courses? And IB too!?
"Can I see your homework...?" It'd be so much easier this way.
(It's fine. I think my laptop let me kill a document I didn't mean to once... *glares at it in frustration* Thankfully, sometime in August I'm getting a new one ^_^)
"You're shockingly casual regarding the business of my self-starvation," Cain muttered, choosing to ignore the fit of laughter that Crehador burst out with. Really, he should have been used to Cain in women's clothing; hell, he was wearing a skirt right now.
He leaned back, straightening aforementioned skirt. "You're right. He'll probably invite me over for a five-course meal, and then make me feel guilty when I don't want to eat it. He's freakishly manipulative that way. And, by the way, I would never trust you near any of my clothing. If you're so anxious to get back to needle-wielding, you can give me a new tattoo."
He opened his messenger bag and shoved his homework at Crehador. He'd copied his own math from Emmeline; it didn't make much of a difference to him.
"You're on your own for English." His essay on Romeo and Juliet was his pride and joy of the week.
Crehador shrugged. "I don't see where my opinion will change that stubborn charm you hold so dear. Plus, somehow it feels more like you'll take what Riff says in consideration versus what I say about the matter. Well, all except the ways to get around it. I'm afraid not being able to sleep doesn't get you anywhere in terms of self-control.
"And I don't 'needle wield' in that terminology, and you and I both know it. However, if you want a tattoo come by after school. I don't guarantee the manager isn't around, but you could always come by after closing time. I can do it then." He wasn't really supposed to be working there, but his mom had quit her job for the umpteenth time and they needed money. So he lied about his age and bewitched the manager into believing him... Wrong, but worth it.
Actually, one day he was bound to find himself fired for the fact that he kept hiding things... He wasn't even supposed to be giving tattoos to his friends. At least, not anyone under eighteen...
"I already did the thing for English." Crehador assured him, "What else was I going to spend doing in prison? I had time to think and I spent a good amount of time last night typing it... which unfortunately means I'm going to fail our history test..." He looked up, drumming his pencil on his desk, "Any way you managed to get a hold of the key for that...?"
(Starting new column. Responses getting squished. ^^;)
(Thank you. It's the last day my mom's younger sister and her two kids are here. I wish I could say it went well, but I was in a moody silence and I could feel tension everywhere... But perhaps that was the talk of school?)
(Tee hee, and I just came up with a short drabble to write. ^_^ I'll probably chapter drabble them, if I do all. I'm busy thinking of doujinshi ideas and I have the start of a cutesy one in my head about fruit with R/C. However, it's lunchtime and I'm hungry. >_> Time to wake my sister. ^0^" Although I was supposed to wake her two hours ago. I'm really going to pay for that later...)
(You can't do it for Cain and Riff officially, cuz I'm listed. ;P But I don't care if you do it unofficially. Whee, fruit! Heh...fruit. xD
Oh dear. ^^;)
(Ha ha, I suppose not then. I can, however call Die and Kaine. ^w^ Are they to be drabbles or what?
Even though I think I'll one shot the idea I came up for Riff x Cain. ^_^ So no lost. Some of those words I was unsure what I'd do with them... >_> I can try though. But now officially. <3 Oh well, no loss.
I'd love to do so, so... yippee!)
(Do that, but make sure you claim them on the official claiming thread. x3 Yay, a 30_kisses buddy!
They can be as long as you want, from full-length multi-chapters to drabbles. Drabbles are generally the shortest you can go, though. I usually write drabbles because they're easier. ^^;
(Haha, I might do drabbles and one shots. I've never been much for chaptered stories- I would love one, but I don't know where to begin!
I'll do Riff and Cain to some ideas. Otherwise, August 1st I'm claiming Die x Kaine <3)
Cain snorted. "You know, you're mostly right. The only thing is, I won't listen to Riff either, which is why he's not speaking to me." He pouted a little, pulling a pencil out of his bag to give himself something to chew on.
"Do you think he'd be more likely to forgive him if I got his name tattooed somewhere on me?" he asked. "Obviously not my arse; that'd be incredibly tacky, and I'm not letting you anywhere near my rear end. But maybe on my arm...? Cain and Riff, Best Friends for Life?" Or, Cain and Riff, Soul Mates, but somehow...he didn't think Riff would take kindly to the sentiment. That, and the small fact that he had yet to tell anyone, Crehador included, about his feelings for Riff, and sort of wanted to keep it that way.
"Or maybe something on the back of my neck. Like a flower or something. But sorry; I actually enjoy history, so I, unlike you, studied for it and won't need a key. Ask someone else."
"Damn." Crehador looked around to see if he could spot someone he knew. "I always thought you were one for Science though..."
"Anyways, I wouldn't trust me near your rear end either. The moment you made one of your smart-aleck comments would be the moment you couldn't use your rear again." He shook his head, trying to dispel the image from his mind. "And probably a flower would be the best. I don't think he'd much take to you putting poison in your skin. What with him studying to be a doctor and everything."
Crehador pulled his thick History textbook from his bag and began leafing through it to find the eras he was unclear about. He supposed that he could always speak to a spirit during the test... He'd just have to erase the small summoning circle off his test paper. Didn't want to make that mistake again...
"I am one for science. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy history as well," Cain pointed out. "Particularly the Victorian era." Something about the darker side of 19th century London intrigued him...
He shuddered a bit at the mental image of his rear end being rendered unusable by tattoo. Ow. "Though I'll have you know he was thinking of getting a tattoo himself," he replied, a pout settling comfortably on his lips. "I couldn't persuade him to pierce his ear, though. And, of course, I doubt he'll still want to do it now that he's not speaking to me anymore." He pouted further.
"As for the tattoo, I think I want acacia, for secret love," he murmured.
"Why?" Crehador asked, raising an eyebrow. He took a sip of the water bottle he had brought with him. He still had no idea why teachers would only permit their students to drink water.
"At least he's of age..." he muttered thoughtfully, at least this one would be one he could do during a normal work schedule. "What was he thinking of? And, if you talk to him, tell him to come talk to me then.
"Ah. Well, I've never been one for history that isn't dealing with dark arts. If they taught us more about psychics and the sort I'd probably pay more attention to the class. Also, you could admit, we need a better, more interesting teacher..."
((Cammy is a faaaaaaail. T.T))
"I'm secretly in love, of course," Cain replied flatly. Crehador could take that however he wanted--as truth or fiction, didn't really matter to Cain; he wouldn't tell him anyway.
He arched his back, groaning in relief as he felt a small pop. He propped his elbow up on the table and rested his chin in his hand, gesturing with the other.
"He wanted a rose, in blue ink, I believe. Somewhere around here." He waved his hand in a vague circle near his chest. "'A red rose is too feminine and a black rose is too depressing', I think he said. So blue." He winked. "I know you'll do a beautiful job. As for the teacher, ugh." He pulled a face. "Though, you should read books about the Victorian era. Seances and the like were very popular amongst the upper class back then, you know."
Crehador smiled, "I know that. It's much harder to find in our textbooks though. I have to usually rely on the internet for such features on the Victorian era. And, as you should recall, I asked about it once in class. Our hick of a teacher had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. A seance is not a style of house."
That had absolutely annoyed the hell out of him. He never understood why his teachers couldn't admit they didn't know. He had no idea why adults didn't. Other students, if they didn't apologize, at least 'my bad' as a means of acknowledgement.
"Anyways," he'd much rather focus on his job than school anyday, "A blue rose? Something more... depressing? Did he say why? And are you seriously interested in someone?" He knew not to further question that. If he gave Cain ideas of what else he could've meant by that, then the boy would employ it to escape the question.
((Oh, Cammy isn't a fail. I've been busy anyways. ^_^ I'm writing Kaine stories and I recently finished one for Godchild. I need to correct it though. <3))
"The internet is not just for porn, contrary to popular belief," Cain mused in agreement, rolling his eyes. "You should know by now that it's a job requirement for high school teachers to be idiots, Crehador. Which is why we suffer through these years long enough to get accepted into a decent university, and then we try and block them out as quickly as possible." He had a very cynical view of education, which he preached to just about anyone who would listen. He still went to school diligently, though, to see Riff if nothing else.
He propped his chin up on his hand, cocking his head and looking at Crehador like the odd little thing he was. "LESS depressing. A blue rose is LESS depressing than a black one, is what he said. And when am I NOT interested in someone?" He waved his hand dismissively.
"That's true." Crehador nodded, unable to recall a time when Cain wasn't interested in someone. He took a sip of the water bottle and fought the urge to spit it back up. He had no idea why his mother insisted that water had one flavor when there were clearly differences in their taste.
"And a blue rose is hardly less depressing." Crehador looked Cain square in the eyes, "A blue rose symbolizes a peace the world can only dream of. It's something that's far out of the reach of human hands."
He tilted the water bottle into his mouth again and instantaneously wondered what was wrong with him. He had no idea why he felt the need to drink whatever was near him. Perhaps he should buy one of the drinks in the vending machine before he poisoned himself...
The bell ringing to start the days cut through his thoughts. He stood up and started throwing papers back into his bag. Without looking up, he tied his bag shut and threw it over his shoulder, "I suppose I'll see you after school today then...? Or do you have something else to be doing?"
"Riff's just naive enough to suit a blue rose, then," Cain murmured, sighing softly. "He believes that a little good will and benevolent energy will stop all wars and famine, reverse global warming, you name it." He rolled his eyes, but his words were softened with a deep affection. What he wouldn't give to feel the way Riff did about the world, just for a day.
"Tattoo parlor after school, three-thirty sharp," he said in answer to Crehador's question. "If your boss is there, I'll just say I came to pester you." He lifted his own beat-up messenger bag, saluting Crehador.
"I'll never understand that optimistic persona of his." Crehador sighed, shaking a strand of hair out of his eyes. He ran his thumbs under the straps of his bag.
"Are you bringing Riff then?" He asked, his eyes already staring at his destination down the hall to the right. Perhaps he could ditch math for today. He really didn't feel up to taking that test...
((Neither do I, Crehador. -_-" Wish me luck.))