Snowflakes were drifting quietly through the air. Timothy watched a few of them. They descended gently, landing softly on the roof around him. He figured it wouldn't take long for everything to be dusted in white, a few hours maybe. Less if stopped flurrying and actually started snowing.
He took another swig from the bottle of vodka. It was cold out, but the temperature wasn't touching him tonight.
"I know you better than you know you, Timothy. I love you too, but I could feel your emotions and you did want to hurt me. And you're so mean to everybody else, and it isn't fair."
His conversation—fight?—with Barjnal rolled around his head.
"I... I sit in class sometimes, thinking about you and me, and it's... I don't like the way things are, Timothy. I always, always want to be with you, but not like we are now."
He felt the panic rising inside again and stamped it back down, trying to keep the numb calm he'd been maintaining for the past few hours.
"I... want a little space away from you, Timothy."
He'd trusted Barjnal. He'd opened himself up to him, and what did he get? Rejection. No, worse than rejection… Betrayal. Barjnal claimed to love him, but he couldn't. He had to be lying, somehow, he had to be. If he loved him, how could he do this to him?
"I need you to get better, Timothy. I can't be with you until you're better."
Timothy forced away the sudden urge to cry. Barjnal knew he was trying, knew he was improving. He'd been less irritable to people. He'd been trying to be friendly, even, sometimes. Yeah, he screwed up a lot, but he was making the effort. He'd even apologized to Mimi like Barj had asked! Okay, maybe he hadn't actually said he was sorry, but damn it, she knew what he was getting at. That was good enough, wasn't it?
He felt so very alone. He'd always felt alone before, but he'd gotten used to having Barj. The loss tore at him. He should have known better. He should have known he'd screw this up like he did everything else.
The snowflakes were falling faster. He couldn't decide if this was still actually a flurry or if it had become a light snowstorm. Looking out at the bay again, he could make out the vague form of giant tentacles swaying above the water in the darkness.
The bottle of vodka wasn't quite empty, but Timothy smashed it against the roof anyway. The glass fragmented, the dusting of snow melting as the alcohol spilled across it. Timothy chose one of the larger shards of glass.
He felt somehow disappointed at the lack of pain he felt as the glass slid through his skin.
Lying down, he closed his eyes. He didn't really like the sight of blood that much, and he was so drowsy. It was done. All he sought now was sleep.
To Have Loved and Lost
Moderator: Student Council
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
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To Have Loved and Lost
Last edited by Timothy Bastian on Mon Mar 05, 2007 3:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Stasis Kiss
- Supreme Commander of teh Intarwebs
- Posts: 2403
- Joined: Sun Jan 29, 2006 1:24 pm
- Location: just left of center
- Contact:
Independence Port never sleeps.
No matter the day or the hour or even the weather that threatens to move from pretense to reality in the darkness. There is true snow in the skies, a lowering chill that cuts through gloves and language alike. It's bad in the alleys of Independence but the docks are harsh; work that doesn't end, not with the ships that need to move from heavy to light and from light to day. Men swarm in and out of the halogens, stamping feet and crates in a rhythm made old by years and effort.
A slim form ghosts across the uneven planking. Dark on white, her boots stretch across the disputed territory. The wind across the water lifts pale hair in sharp strands, attempts to carve a blush on unreacting cheeks. The girl moves half asleep through the workers that eye her with jaundice and quieter curses.
They don't know who she is. They don't care. The bare head, the gleam of unobtrusive armor, hands left open to the cold tell them all they need to know. Blessed. Touched. More than human.
She ignores them as they ignore her. Across the docks simply because it is a straighter line although gates are supposed to bar the way with their signs and warnings. Once upon a time she cared about rules. Not so long ago she would have taken the road without hesitation, walking the long way through the dust of snow. She might even have hugged herself against the penetrating cold although she'd have defied it anyways.
All things change.
She leaves the artificial life behind, running lightly up a final gangway and then there is only a barrier of darkness and the looming face of a cold building. Its window ledges have long since been mapped into her hands, her mind. If the building is guarded it cares only for its heart because no matter how often she climbs, no alarm sounds. Tonight is no exception. The concrete is familiar and rough under her fingertips and half numb as she is, it still brings an odd comfort.
At the top she moves unerringly to the place she wishes to be. There cannot be moonlight tonight and only haze marks the reactor but it doesn't really matter. Memory will supply the pieces that are missing.
Except that she is not alone.
Anger and frustration spark her in hands, wash the roof in a red question. Dark hair meets her eyes with its accompanying sparkle of drifted white. She sees a slumped shoulder and the cut of a uniform she knows all too well. Her nostrils flare with the scent of sharp alcohol. Careless glass litters the ground.
She knows better, she does. The shape is wrong, the attitude utterly foreign. But her lips shape a name anyways, breath misting for the first time tonight on the single syllable.
There is no answer just like there is no moonlight. She frowns then and steps forward, raising lighted fists. Whoever it is, they shouldn't be here, drunk and stupid with one foot hanging over a drop that will break bones sooner or later.
"Hey. Hey."
Nothing. She reaches out without gentleness and half pulls the form over, angry enough to leave energy in her touch. Her nose wrinkles in disgust. Dead asleep or passed out. She knows him, although she is somehow surprised by that. Just what is he doing here? This is her place. Did he follow her here once? She wouldn't put it past him.
"Clover, you idiot. What do you think you're doing?" Never mind, it's pretty obvious. "You're drunk, get back to school. You're out past curfew." Just like she is of course, although that doesn't cross her mind. She shakes him again, his head rolling easily. She slaps him without thinking, wanting only to get him up, get him moving, get him away from her lookout and the peace she so desperately wanted to find here tonight. "If you think I'm going to help you past the penguin patrol, you got another think coming."
Still, nothing. She bends lower, frowning. Why won't he wake up? It's not that cold, surely, although how would she know? She slaps his face again, a little harder. One lax hand sprawls with the motion, upturned.
The glow from her hands paints everything black. Black fear in a mess of a line. Black blood long since frozen. Black pain that stops her heart with sudden, terrible understanding.
"Oh, God. Oh God, Timothy, you idiot. What the hell have you done?"
She's dealt more damage than this, taken it back a hundredfold and laughed and it never hurt like this, never and this is where Lish died, where she wanted only to fall until she couldn't feel either, where dark eyes reflected back at her with pain that she'd put there and now it was happening again and she's too late again she doesn't know what to do.
She fumbles at his throat, shedding red streamers but if there is anything there she doesn't know how to find it; presses a cold hand to his chest but if he still breathes she can't tell. How long has he been here? Long enough for snow to collect on his hair. It's happening again.
Something... snaps then, in the panic, in the fear. She is not who she was, not really, because all things change. There's frost on her eyelashes though as she tags her comm badge, scoops the unresisting, grim weight in her arms.
"System, give me Barnjal."
Each step brings purpose, motion. She falls from the roof like a comet. There is no answer.
"System, find Barjnal."
There is nothing, no reply, no sleepy, unaware response. This is not happening. Barjnal isn't a frosh, wet or green or plain stupid, to pin his comm badge to a phone booth receiver to flood the channel with private conversations. Barjnal knows to stay online.
Except, he isn't.
"System, wide comm. Emergency, emergency SJS, who's awake out there?"
She is in motion, streaking across the ground. The body she often hates serves well, pulling oxygen, building speed out of nothing.
"I am!"
"Me too. What emergency? Hello?"
She doesn't recognize the voices. There are too many, too new. Too late at night.
"This is Stasis. Whoever you guys are, I need you to drop everything and get to the boys dorm, quad eleven. You hear me? Get to quad eleven and find Barjnal."
"Hey, I'd love to help but I'm kinda busy..."
"...I'm nowhere near the school..."
Helpless anger is the taste of wood in her mouth. She jumps, launching from ground to roof without intervening steps, straight line, arrow swift. Her eyes are wide and black with the strain.
"Emergency, SJS, emergency! Quad eleven, get Barjnal, I'm running for Bell Medical in Independence. Drop everything and move!"
She's nearly crying with frustration. She doesn't even know if he's alive.
Minutes later there are more voices on the comm, people being pulled out of bed, people talking. Barjnal is not in his quad, can't be found. One of the first voices, the one that was busy, timidly wants to know if everything is okay now.
The blast of heat as the automatic doors slide open melts snow, ice. Timothy is curled in her arms, too big but she's strong enough for this, whatever it takes. There is action, flurry, coordinated motion that helps her to let go, let them take him away. They probably see a lot of this. This. People trying to die.
She finds herself in a chair, a cup of hot liquid in her hands. The surface of it is trembling.
She looks up, not even sure why. His worried, concerned eyes meet hers as he walks across the foyer. The first of many, she's sure. She's woken up the whole school probably.
But it's only when she's in his arms, head turned into his shoulder that she remembers she's allowed to cry.
No matter the day or the hour or even the weather that threatens to move from pretense to reality in the darkness. There is true snow in the skies, a lowering chill that cuts through gloves and language alike. It's bad in the alleys of Independence but the docks are harsh; work that doesn't end, not with the ships that need to move from heavy to light and from light to day. Men swarm in and out of the halogens, stamping feet and crates in a rhythm made old by years and effort.
A slim form ghosts across the uneven planking. Dark on white, her boots stretch across the disputed territory. The wind across the water lifts pale hair in sharp strands, attempts to carve a blush on unreacting cheeks. The girl moves half asleep through the workers that eye her with jaundice and quieter curses.
They don't know who she is. They don't care. The bare head, the gleam of unobtrusive armor, hands left open to the cold tell them all they need to know. Blessed. Touched. More than human.
She ignores them as they ignore her. Across the docks simply because it is a straighter line although gates are supposed to bar the way with their signs and warnings. Once upon a time she cared about rules. Not so long ago she would have taken the road without hesitation, walking the long way through the dust of snow. She might even have hugged herself against the penetrating cold although she'd have defied it anyways.
All things change.
She leaves the artificial life behind, running lightly up a final gangway and then there is only a barrier of darkness and the looming face of a cold building. Its window ledges have long since been mapped into her hands, her mind. If the building is guarded it cares only for its heart because no matter how often she climbs, no alarm sounds. Tonight is no exception. The concrete is familiar and rough under her fingertips and half numb as she is, it still brings an odd comfort.
At the top she moves unerringly to the place she wishes to be. There cannot be moonlight tonight and only haze marks the reactor but it doesn't really matter. Memory will supply the pieces that are missing.
Except that she is not alone.
Anger and frustration spark her in hands, wash the roof in a red question. Dark hair meets her eyes with its accompanying sparkle of drifted white. She sees a slumped shoulder and the cut of a uniform she knows all too well. Her nostrils flare with the scent of sharp alcohol. Careless glass litters the ground.
She knows better, she does. The shape is wrong, the attitude utterly foreign. But her lips shape a name anyways, breath misting for the first time tonight on the single syllable.
There is no answer just like there is no moonlight. She frowns then and steps forward, raising lighted fists. Whoever it is, they shouldn't be here, drunk and stupid with one foot hanging over a drop that will break bones sooner or later.
"Hey. Hey."
Nothing. She reaches out without gentleness and half pulls the form over, angry enough to leave energy in her touch. Her nose wrinkles in disgust. Dead asleep or passed out. She knows him, although she is somehow surprised by that. Just what is he doing here? This is her place. Did he follow her here once? She wouldn't put it past him.
"Clover, you idiot. What do you think you're doing?" Never mind, it's pretty obvious. "You're drunk, get back to school. You're out past curfew." Just like she is of course, although that doesn't cross her mind. She shakes him again, his head rolling easily. She slaps him without thinking, wanting only to get him up, get him moving, get him away from her lookout and the peace she so desperately wanted to find here tonight. "If you think I'm going to help you past the penguin patrol, you got another think coming."
Still, nothing. She bends lower, frowning. Why won't he wake up? It's not that cold, surely, although how would she know? She slaps his face again, a little harder. One lax hand sprawls with the motion, upturned.
The glow from her hands paints everything black. Black fear in a mess of a line. Black blood long since frozen. Black pain that stops her heart with sudden, terrible understanding.
"Oh, God. Oh God, Timothy, you idiot. What the hell have you done?"
She's dealt more damage than this, taken it back a hundredfold and laughed and it never hurt like this, never and this is where Lish died, where she wanted only to fall until she couldn't feel either, where dark eyes reflected back at her with pain that she'd put there and now it was happening again and she's too late again she doesn't know what to do.
She fumbles at his throat, shedding red streamers but if there is anything there she doesn't know how to find it; presses a cold hand to his chest but if he still breathes she can't tell. How long has he been here? Long enough for snow to collect on his hair. It's happening again.
Something... snaps then, in the panic, in the fear. She is not who she was, not really, because all things change. There's frost on her eyelashes though as she tags her comm badge, scoops the unresisting, grim weight in her arms.
"System, give me Barnjal."
Each step brings purpose, motion. She falls from the roof like a comet. There is no answer.
"System, find Barjnal."
There is nothing, no reply, no sleepy, unaware response. This is not happening. Barjnal isn't a frosh, wet or green or plain stupid, to pin his comm badge to a phone booth receiver to flood the channel with private conversations. Barjnal knows to stay online.
Except, he isn't.
"System, wide comm. Emergency, emergency SJS, who's awake out there?"
She is in motion, streaking across the ground. The body she often hates serves well, pulling oxygen, building speed out of nothing.
"I am!"
"Me too. What emergency? Hello?"
She doesn't recognize the voices. There are too many, too new. Too late at night.
"This is Stasis. Whoever you guys are, I need you to drop everything and get to the boys dorm, quad eleven. You hear me? Get to quad eleven and find Barjnal."
"Hey, I'd love to help but I'm kinda busy..."
"...I'm nowhere near the school..."
Helpless anger is the taste of wood in her mouth. She jumps, launching from ground to roof without intervening steps, straight line, arrow swift. Her eyes are wide and black with the strain.
"Emergency, SJS, emergency! Quad eleven, get Barjnal, I'm running for Bell Medical in Independence. Drop everything and move!"
She's nearly crying with frustration. She doesn't even know if he's alive.
Minutes later there are more voices on the comm, people being pulled out of bed, people talking. Barjnal is not in his quad, can't be found. One of the first voices, the one that was busy, timidly wants to know if everything is okay now.
The blast of heat as the automatic doors slide open melts snow, ice. Timothy is curled in her arms, too big but she's strong enough for this, whatever it takes. There is action, flurry, coordinated motion that helps her to let go, let them take him away. They probably see a lot of this. This. People trying to die.
She finds herself in a chair, a cup of hot liquid in her hands. The surface of it is trembling.
She looks up, not even sure why. His worried, concerned eyes meet hers as he walks across the foyer. The first of many, she's sure. She's woken up the whole school probably.
But it's only when she's in his arms, head turned into his shoulder that she remembers she's allowed to cry.
"So pay attention to me; I don't talk for my health."
"I want you on my team."
"... So does everybody else."
"I want you on my team."
"... So does everybody else."
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
- Contact:
"...siginficant blood loss, but he's in no..."
He became dimly aware of the activity around him. The sound of rushed movement. Cool, sterile air. A pinch on his arm.
"...IV's in, hand me the..."
His mind was so sluggish. His eyes felt too heavy to open, so he didn't try.
"...blood alcohol level is..."
Alcohol. He could taste vodka.
He remembered.
"...stabilized, transfer him to a room..."
It's a hospital. He's in a hospital.
He felt himself move. The sound of wheels moving against the floor.
Someone had found him before he could die.
Desperation and anger clouded his mind as he drifted back into unconsciousness.
He became dimly aware of the activity around him. The sound of rushed movement. Cool, sterile air. A pinch on his arm.
"...IV's in, hand me the..."
His mind was so sluggish. His eyes felt too heavy to open, so he didn't try.
"...blood alcohol level is..."
Alcohol. He could taste vodka.
He remembered.
"...stabilized, transfer him to a room..."
It's a hospital. He's in a hospital.
He felt himself move. The sound of wheels moving against the floor.
Someone had found him before he could die.
Desperation and anger clouded his mind as he drifted back into unconsciousness.
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Barjnal
- Posts: 320
- Joined: Wed Sep 06, 2006 5:00 pm
- Location: In the library, reading musty books.
- Contact:
Barj heard someone asking for him to get up. Ugh. He had no desire to fling off the warm, soft covers. Last night's hours spent on a rooftop, hands grating against the asphalt tile on some skyscraper's rooftop in the cold left a chill that wouldn't warm out of his bones. Even as he tried to pretend he couldn't hear the voice coaxing him out of bed, even as he put his itchy wrists over eyes to block out the sun, he could still feel it. He had dreamed that Timothy had let him back into his mind, that they had thought again in their shared space, but it was just a dream. His own thoughts left echoes in the space of his skull.
Yesterday evening's fight had left him drained, though he had felt much better that night after being consoled and put gently to bed. But this morning was full of foreboding, an anxiety living somewhere between the small of his back and the pit of his stomach. The voice was insistent, though, and he eventually rose, cleaned, and dressed. He noticed that his comm unit, beeping quietly through the interior pocket on his jacket, was demanding his attention. He slipped the earbud, comfortable as his own skin, around and into his ear as he moved to the kitchen to rummage for food.
He didn't get far before he paused and perched on a countertop. Half of the school had tried to contact him in the night. Details were slim at first. He listened to the messages in the order he got them in, details slowly becoming clearer.
"...Stasis needs you."
"...on a rooftop."
"...Timothy... an accident."
Panic rose in his chest.
"...in Bell Medical."
There was a tone in the last few messages. He didn't recognize it. It was full of deep discomfort, unease. They were hiding something and it scared him.
Arcane force swirled from him, lifting his feet off the ground and propelling him toward the door. He blurted something out in a panic and knocked over a glass in his haste, crystal shattering wetly on the linoleum of the small apartment he'd stayed the night in.
Nate held him back and comforted him while he screamed.
Yesterday evening's fight had left him drained, though he had felt much better that night after being consoled and put gently to bed. But this morning was full of foreboding, an anxiety living somewhere between the small of his back and the pit of his stomach. The voice was insistent, though, and he eventually rose, cleaned, and dressed. He noticed that his comm unit, beeping quietly through the interior pocket on his jacket, was demanding his attention. He slipped the earbud, comfortable as his own skin, around and into his ear as he moved to the kitchen to rummage for food.
He didn't get far before he paused and perched on a countertop. Half of the school had tried to contact him in the night. Details were slim at first. He listened to the messages in the order he got them in, details slowly becoming clearer.
"...Stasis needs you."
"...on a rooftop."
"...Timothy... an accident."
Panic rose in his chest.
"...in Bell Medical."
There was a tone in the last few messages. He didn't recognize it. It was full of deep discomfort, unease. They were hiding something and it scared him.
Arcane force swirled from him, lifting his feet off the ground and propelling him toward the door. He blurted something out in a panic and knocked over a glass in his haste, crystal shattering wetly on the linoleum of the small apartment he'd stayed the night in.
Nate held him back and comforted him while he screamed.
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
- Contact:
He watched the sun set over the distant waters and let his mind wander.
He hadn't expected to be found, hadn't wanted to be saved. Or had he? He didn't even know anymore.
Christmas had been hard, but the month that followed had been harder.
He wondered who had it worse, him or Barj. He knew he was being cruel to Barj, keeping him at arm's length. He could feel the agony and depression that leaked through the bond at times. But Barj had Nathan, while Timothy had left himself no one.
In the back of his mind, he knew he should back down. He should apologize to Barj, just as he should have apologized to so many other people in the past. Like Tamesis, or Mimi, or even Summer. He knew he should, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
Laughter drifted up from the beach below him, catching him off guard. A group of teens were playing ultimate frisbee on the sand. They were too far away for Timothy to figure out if he knew any of them, but that was okay. He was invisible, so they wouldn't bother him.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and thought about the last time he'd been sitting on this particular hill at this particular location. He'd been vying for Picayune's affection at the time, and Tamesis had been vying for Barj's. Both were losing battles. Pica's heart was apparently with Summer, from what he'd heard, and Barj's was with Timothy. Still, the afternoon had been very enjoyable. He'd been relaxed, friendly even. They were fun to be around, and he'd had a good time.
After he'd left the hospital, he'd begged his parents to let him be home schooled. He almost regretted that now. He didn't think he could bear being around everyone from Saint Joe's after what had happened, not since all of them knew, and he especially didn't think he could ever face Stasis. Yet, being alone all the time made him realize just how alone he'd been all along.
Deep down, he disgusted himself. He would never admit that to anyone, not to the counselor he had to see weekly, not even to himself most of the time. But he could feel it.
Deep down, some part of him wanted to change.
But the depths didn't matter. On the surface, he was a stubborn prick, and he had no intention of changing that.
He hadn't expected to be found, hadn't wanted to be saved. Or had he? He didn't even know anymore.
Christmas had been hard, but the month that followed had been harder.
He wondered who had it worse, him or Barj. He knew he was being cruel to Barj, keeping him at arm's length. He could feel the agony and depression that leaked through the bond at times. But Barj had Nathan, while Timothy had left himself no one.
In the back of his mind, he knew he should back down. He should apologize to Barj, just as he should have apologized to so many other people in the past. Like Tamesis, or Mimi, or even Summer. He knew he should, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
Laughter drifted up from the beach below him, catching him off guard. A group of teens were playing ultimate frisbee on the sand. They were too far away for Timothy to figure out if he knew any of them, but that was okay. He was invisible, so they wouldn't bother him.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and thought about the last time he'd been sitting on this particular hill at this particular location. He'd been vying for Picayune's affection at the time, and Tamesis had been vying for Barj's. Both were losing battles. Pica's heart was apparently with Summer, from what he'd heard, and Barj's was with Timothy. Still, the afternoon had been very enjoyable. He'd been relaxed, friendly even. They were fun to be around, and he'd had a good time.
After he'd left the hospital, he'd begged his parents to let him be home schooled. He almost regretted that now. He didn't think he could bear being around everyone from Saint Joe's after what had happened, not since all of them knew, and he especially didn't think he could ever face Stasis. Yet, being alone all the time made him realize just how alone he'd been all along.
Deep down, he disgusted himself. He would never admit that to anyone, not to the counselor he had to see weekly, not even to himself most of the time. But he could feel it.
Deep down, some part of him wanted to change.
But the depths didn't matter. On the surface, he was a stubborn prick, and he had no intention of changing that.
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
- Contact:
Timothy seethed. He was trying to manage both a scathing scowl and a venomous glare, while at the same time avoiding eye contact with the other three persons in the room. It was perhaps fortunate that he was too angry to realize he only ended up looking constipated.
"Mr. Conrads, Ms. Sinclair, and myself have been in conversations with your parents, Timothy. We're here to discuss the decisions that have been made for you. Your parents preferred that this be handled without them present, since you turn any discussions with them into huge arguments." Regina Wolston's voice made it very clear that she dissatisfied with Timothy's behavior in that regard. "Here are the facts as we have them. Your academic performance since you started homeschooling has been unacceptably low. You've refused to interact socially with your peers. You've made no progress in your counseling sessions. You've been making your family's lives miserable."
"Your parents and the state would like you to return to Saint Joseph School, Timothy." Gemini smiled encouragingly. "Despite your past choices and your present difficulties, Saint Joseph School would like to have you as a student again. You are a gifted, intelligent young man, and we'd like to see you make the best of your life."
"I will be your counselor again. Your state-provided counselor has forwarded me notes on your progress during the past few months. You will be meeting with me every week, rather than twice per semester like before." Conrads paused for a moment. "We need you to make an honest effort towards working through your problems, Timothy. Can you work with us on that?"
Timothy shifted in his seat, grimacing. He had no intention of working with them on anything, and he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of an answer either way.
Gemini glanced from Timothy to Conrads, then spoke up again. "Saint Joseph's will also be watching you more closely in other ways. Bed check will be much more strictly enforced. All of your teachers will be informed that you are dealing with difficult personal issues and may be at risk for another suicide attempt. They will be keeping an eye on you, too. That doesn't mean you're going to get any slack on your schoolwork. If you start feeling desperate, though, you can talk to any of them at any time, and they'll do what they can to help you. Okay?"
Timothy responded with more sullen silence.
"The community service you did last semester seemed to affect you very positively. Your parents, the school, and I have discussed this and have decided that you will be required to engage in further community service." Regina paused, studying Timothy intently. "However, the city doesn't feel comfortable letting you run patrols by yourself. You will be required to work with other students."
"Your parents have decided to send your brother Barjnal back to Saint Joseph's, too." Gemini's smile faltered as she saw Timothy visibly flinch. "He seemed very excited about it when I spoke with him earlier. Your parents will be moving you back on campus this week, and you'll be starting classes again immediately."
Conrads glanced at his appointment book. "I have you scheduled for an appointment every Thursday afternoon following your lunch period. If you would prefer we work out a different day and time, let me know."
Regina looked at Conrads and Gemini, then at Timothy. "I think that concludes everything we needed to address today. As you know, you're required to check in with me monthly. Your next appointment is in two weeks, on a Wednesday afternoon. It doesn't conflict with your classes, so don't even try to use that as an excuse to skip. I'll see you then, Timothy."
"Welcome back to Saint Joe's, Timothy." Gemini tried giving Timothy another encouraging smile.
Timothy mumbled something indistinct and made his way out the door. He didn't see Gemini's smile. He didn't see Regina's frown. He didn't see Conrads' look of concern.
And if he had? It would have only pissed him off more than he already was.
"Mr. Conrads, Ms. Sinclair, and myself have been in conversations with your parents, Timothy. We're here to discuss the decisions that have been made for you. Your parents preferred that this be handled without them present, since you turn any discussions with them into huge arguments." Regina Wolston's voice made it very clear that she dissatisfied with Timothy's behavior in that regard. "Here are the facts as we have them. Your academic performance since you started homeschooling has been unacceptably low. You've refused to interact socially with your peers. You've made no progress in your counseling sessions. You've been making your family's lives miserable."
"Your parents and the state would like you to return to Saint Joseph School, Timothy." Gemini smiled encouragingly. "Despite your past choices and your present difficulties, Saint Joseph School would like to have you as a student again. You are a gifted, intelligent young man, and we'd like to see you make the best of your life."
"I will be your counselor again. Your state-provided counselor has forwarded me notes on your progress during the past few months. You will be meeting with me every week, rather than twice per semester like before." Conrads paused for a moment. "We need you to make an honest effort towards working through your problems, Timothy. Can you work with us on that?"
Timothy shifted in his seat, grimacing. He had no intention of working with them on anything, and he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of an answer either way.
Gemini glanced from Timothy to Conrads, then spoke up again. "Saint Joseph's will also be watching you more closely in other ways. Bed check will be much more strictly enforced. All of your teachers will be informed that you are dealing with difficult personal issues and may be at risk for another suicide attempt. They will be keeping an eye on you, too. That doesn't mean you're going to get any slack on your schoolwork. If you start feeling desperate, though, you can talk to any of them at any time, and they'll do what they can to help you. Okay?"
Timothy responded with more sullen silence.
"The community service you did last semester seemed to affect you very positively. Your parents, the school, and I have discussed this and have decided that you will be required to engage in further community service." Regina paused, studying Timothy intently. "However, the city doesn't feel comfortable letting you run patrols by yourself. You will be required to work with other students."
"Your parents have decided to send your brother Barjnal back to Saint Joseph's, too." Gemini's smile faltered as she saw Timothy visibly flinch. "He seemed very excited about it when I spoke with him earlier. Your parents will be moving you back on campus this week, and you'll be starting classes again immediately."
Conrads glanced at his appointment book. "I have you scheduled for an appointment every Thursday afternoon following your lunch period. If you would prefer we work out a different day and time, let me know."
Regina looked at Conrads and Gemini, then at Timothy. "I think that concludes everything we needed to address today. As you know, you're required to check in with me monthly. Your next appointment is in two weeks, on a Wednesday afternoon. It doesn't conflict with your classes, so don't even try to use that as an excuse to skip. I'll see you then, Timothy."
"Welcome back to Saint Joe's, Timothy." Gemini tried giving Timothy another encouraging smile.
Timothy mumbled something indistinct and made his way out the door. He didn't see Gemini's smile. He didn't see Regina's frown. He didn't see Conrads' look of concern.
And if he had? It would have only pissed him off more than he already was.
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
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Timothy stepped into David Conrads' office and came to an abrupt stop. At about the same time, so did the conversation Conrads was having with Gemini and Regina Wolston. Timothy stared at them, nonplussed. "I wasn't told I was being ganged up on today. This was supposed to be my normal weekly appointment."
"Please Timothy, step inside and close the door." Conrads gestured towards the door as he spoke. "I'm sorry you weren't informed, but given your track record, we didn't want to risk having you not show."
Grimacing, Timothy shut the door and took a seat, cycling his glare among the three. "What's this about, then?"
"I don't see a point in drawing this out, so I'll cut straight to the point. It's like this, Timothy." Regina Wolston sat forward, fixing him with an unyielding look. "You've screwed up. A lot. You've had a lot of people trying to help you out, trying to pull for you, even making exceptions and going out of their way to find some way to make things work for you. And you've been uncooperative and ungrateful the whole time. You've made no progress whatsoever. So, it's over. Your parents have selected a military school in Oklahoma called the D. L. Payne Academy for Boys. You will be transferring there in September."
Timothy looked poleaxed. "Wha--You're bluffing. They wouldn't send me to a military school."
"I'm afraid they will, Timothy." Gemini didn't look very happy about the situation either. "Saint Joe's will continue to board you here over the summer, as well as continuing your summer classes. But unless you make a miraculous turnaround, you'll be leaving in September."
He tried to find his voice, but couldn't. He just stared, no longer glaring. Just shocked.
"I'll be continuing your counseling until you leave." Conrads spoke quietly. He didn't seem like he disagreed with Regina, but like Gemini, he didn't seem enthused about what was happening. "We'll meet again at the usual time next week. I think that's all we need to discuss for today."
It took Timothy nearly a full minute for it to register that he could leave. In something of a daze, he left and wandered back to his dorm.
The D. L. Payne Academy for Boys. He was pretty sure he didn't like the sound of that.
"Please Timothy, step inside and close the door." Conrads gestured towards the door as he spoke. "I'm sorry you weren't informed, but given your track record, we didn't want to risk having you not show."
Grimacing, Timothy shut the door and took a seat, cycling his glare among the three. "What's this about, then?"
"I don't see a point in drawing this out, so I'll cut straight to the point. It's like this, Timothy." Regina Wolston sat forward, fixing him with an unyielding look. "You've screwed up. A lot. You've had a lot of people trying to help you out, trying to pull for you, even making exceptions and going out of their way to find some way to make things work for you. And you've been uncooperative and ungrateful the whole time. You've made no progress whatsoever. So, it's over. Your parents have selected a military school in Oklahoma called the D. L. Payne Academy for Boys. You will be transferring there in September."
Timothy looked poleaxed. "Wha--You're bluffing. They wouldn't send me to a military school."
"I'm afraid they will, Timothy." Gemini didn't look very happy about the situation either. "Saint Joe's will continue to board you here over the summer, as well as continuing your summer classes. But unless you make a miraculous turnaround, you'll be leaving in September."
He tried to find his voice, but couldn't. He just stared, no longer glaring. Just shocked.
"I'll be continuing your counseling until you leave." Conrads spoke quietly. He didn't seem like he disagreed with Regina, but like Gemini, he didn't seem enthused about what was happening. "We'll meet again at the usual time next week. I think that's all we need to discuss for today."
It took Timothy nearly a full minute for it to register that he could leave. In something of a daze, he left and wandered back to his dorm.
The D. L. Payne Academy for Boys. He was pretty sure he didn't like the sound of that.
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
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Quad 5 was empty except for Timothy. He didn't know where Jai and Mis were and didn't really care. It's not like they really interacted that much anyway.
Timothy rummaged through his drawers and, after some searching, pulled out a blue and teal costume. Barj had always been pestering him to get a hero costume, back before... He'd finally done so. Of course, he'd only worn it when he and Barj were on patrol by themselves. He'd actually had the costume altered slightly with some changes that even Barj hadn't seen, shortly before... He changed into the outfit, then stood at the mirror considering himself. He felt so absurd wearing the getup, but it would make an impression.
He slipped a small stone inscribed with runes into his pocket, then focused on it. His spandex shimmered briefly, then vanished, leaving the stone to fall to the floor. He grabbed the stone and quickly put on his normal street clothes before anyone happened to walk in on him. The clothing runestone was very handy in swapping between outfits it already knew about, but could lead to some embarrassing situations when setting it up with a new outfit.
Once dressed, Timothy stationed himself in front of the mirror again. He was thinking about military school again, as he'd done often this past week. He had no intention of going. It'd taken him a few days to resolve himself to his plan, but now that he had? Might as well put it in action.
For the next fifteen minutes, Timothy practiced faking a convincingly genuine smile.
Timothy rummaged through his drawers and, after some searching, pulled out a blue and teal costume. Barj had always been pestering him to get a hero costume, back before... He'd finally done so. Of course, he'd only worn it when he and Barj were on patrol by themselves. He'd actually had the costume altered slightly with some changes that even Barj hadn't seen, shortly before... He changed into the outfit, then stood at the mirror considering himself. He felt so absurd wearing the getup, but it would make an impression.
He slipped a small stone inscribed with runes into his pocket, then focused on it. His spandex shimmered briefly, then vanished, leaving the stone to fall to the floor. He grabbed the stone and quickly put on his normal street clothes before anyone happened to walk in on him. The clothing runestone was very handy in swapping between outfits it already knew about, but could lead to some embarrassing situations when setting it up with a new outfit.
Once dressed, Timothy stationed himself in front of the mirror again. He was thinking about military school again, as he'd done often this past week. He had no intention of going. It'd taken him a few days to resolve himself to his plan, but now that he had? Might as well put it in action.
For the next fifteen minutes, Timothy practiced faking a convincingly genuine smile.
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Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
- Contact:
Taking a deep breath, Timothy hit the buttons on his comm to open a private link. He then spoke, with a friendly, casual tone. "Evening, Barj."
A rather loud, startled squeak made him wince. "Timothy?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"What're you doing?"
"Wondering if you could spare a moment to meet. I'm over in King's Row, on a rooftop at fifth and third."
There was an awkward pause. "What's this about?"
"I'd rather talk in person."
"You won't tell me?" The traces of suspicion in Barj's voice were deepening.
"I will, but I'd rather just start from the beginning in person, rather than... this."
"Oh... okay. Um. I'll be right over."
Timothy turned the comm off to wait, letting out a relieved sigh. He hadn't been entirely sure Barj would even be willing to speak to him, much less meet him. He might have been able to pull this off over the comm, but it'd be much safer in person. Still, his stomach churned with uncertainty and anxiety.
* * * * *
Timothy was leaning against the wall of one building, on the roof of the building immediately adjacent to it. This part of King's Row was quite tonight, for now at least. He watched as Barj flew in from the east.
"Hey Barj." He smiled.
"Um. Hi." Barji's reticence was obvious. He kept yards back, out of reach.
"I'll cut to the chase." Timothy looked him directly in the eyes, pausing a moment. He knew Barj would see through any attempts at outright deception, so he might as well take control by being direct. "If that's okay?"
Barjnal took a few steps closer. "Um. Yeah." He rolled a pebble around under his foot.
Timothy looked away from Barjnal again, pausing a moment to affect as though he were gathering his thoughts. "They've decided they've wasted enough time on me and are going to be sending me to a military school in September. D. L. Payne Academy for Boys in, of all places, Oklahoma." Another pause, and then he returned his gaze to Barj again. "I don't intend to go."
"No!" Barj's eyes went wide for a moment before he reigned himself back in. "They know that isn't going to fix you. That'll just be bad for you."
"Exactly. They're just looking to get rid of their problematic individual at this point. So, I'm going to give them what they want, by conning them." Timothy knew it was a gamble, but putting it out there early gave him time to adjust and change tactics if Barj reacted too poorly to the idea. If he waited too long, if he built any rapport before introducing it, he'd just give Barj a feeling of increased alienation. He knew he had to alienate first, then potentially build rapport. It was a risk, but if it paid off...
Whatever alarm remained in Barj's expression quickly evaporated, replaced in its stead by obvious disappointment. "What do you mean?"
"In order to stay, I need a 'miracle,' as Gemini puts it. So, I'm giving them a miracle."
"You don't know miracle spells yet."
"Don't need to." Timothy smiled in a very friendly manner, then turned as though speaking to someone standing next to Barj. "Hi! How are you today?" He paused, obviously 'listening' to the response with interest. "Oh, I'm pretty good today, thanks for asking." He paused again, then a few moments later laughed as though he had just been told a really funny joke. He cut off the laugh mid-way and turned back to Barj, quirking an eyebrow. The personality he'd just faked was convincingly friendly and amicable, a drastic contrast from how Timothy normally presented himself.
Barjnal's frown deepened with greater disappointment. "Are you trying to convince them you've made an imaginary friend? That's probably better than no friends at all, I guess."
Timothy knew Barji understood his point and decided not to dignify his acerbic comment with a response. "I'm also running patrol." Timothy paused, concentrating briefly. His clothes shimmered, then shifted into his patrol outfit. "In costume."
Barj's frown faded a bit, giving away to surprise. "Wow. Um. You changed it."
"Yeah. A while back." Timothy paused for a heartbeat, then took the opportunity to add a casual yet calculated remark. "You never got to see it, though."
Barj flinched a bit. "Oh." He paused a moment. "Why're you telling me?"
"The school's not stupid. They may well guess at what I'm doing. But what are they going to do? They can't very well tell me I can't stay if I'm no longer a problem student, if in fact I'm suddenly an exemplary student."
"But you have to keep it up after the semester or they'll know you were lying."
"I'll deal with that when the time comes." Timothy wasn't about to admit to Barj that he'd been avoiding thinking about that prospect. "But I'm not going to Payne Academy."
Barjnal avoided eye contact. "You could just actually be nice and really run patrol and mean it." His voice was sullen.
"That's not me, and you know it." Timothy paused. He'd laid out the situation for Barj, now he just had to work Barj around to helping him. So far, things were going better than he'd feared they might have. "There's one factor that's outside my control in the whole situation, though." Technically, it was within his control, but Timothy wasn't willing to use the bond to supersede Barjnal's free will just to save his own skin. He did have some boundaries.
Barjnal brought his head up to make eye contact with Timothy, giving him a cold, hard look. "I can't lie. And even if I could I wouldn't lie for you about this."
"I know. You're capable of dancing around the truth pretty damn well, though."
"You need me to cover for you." Barji sounded regretful and angry, but also partly resigned.
Timothy paused. It was now on the table. He had to be careful. "At least partially, yes. If we're still avoiding each other and sullen about one another it's obvious that a major problem isn't resolved. And that threatens the whole facade."
"Nothing I told you stuck, did it?" Barjnal looked at him accusationally.
Timothy knew that wouldn't be a good path for the discussion to head down, so he just ignored the question. It was rhetorical, anyway. "You'll cover for me, because you like the alternatives less." He was being very hard, too hard. But what choice did he have? "I know you well enough to know that."
"You probably know me well enough to know what I'm thinking about you right now, too."
"Probably." He paused, still not fully certain that he actually wanted to go through with the next part of his gambit. He couldn't risk not doing it, though. "But I wasn't quite done."
"Well, finish up." Barj's tone was sullen, angry.
For the first time in half a year, Timothy stopped blocking Barjnal out of his mind, stopped blocking their connection through the bond. He was an open book again, if Barj should choose to look.
"I'm not blocking you out anymore. And I'm not projecting anything unwelcome again either." Timothy knew Barj had to sense the change, but he could also tell that Barj wasn't looking. In part, he was relieved that he wasn't looking. He felt too exposed, too raw for Barj to look. If Barj looked, he'd see just how much of his act was really just that: an act. His confidence all a show. His resolution all a calculated bluff. Barj would see just how much Timothy hated doing this, and how much he felt he had to do it anyway. Still, he'd fully expected Barj to at least peek... He hadn't anticipated him not looking at all. Maybe he knew he was faking it all anyway. Barjnal was still standing there, holding his gaze, clearly angry. Affecting a casual tone, Timothy added, "unless you'd rather I not?"
"I think you're mean and terrible, Timothy Bastian."
"Perhaps. But I'm also wounded and lonely." He spoke the words calmly, as though they didn't touch him, but they did. His insides turned to actually say that, to admit it out loud.
"And you just expect me to come back!?" Barjnal's voice had raised to an uncharacteristically uncontrolled shriek.
"No." Timothy looked at him, making eye contact. "I expect you to be severely pissed at me and resent me and wish I'd just stayed the hell away. But we both know that's not an option right now."
"You're terrible! You're horrible, coming back like this, making me cover for you like this to everybody. I hate it and I can hardly think of anything worse!"
"I know." Timothy stated it simply, matter-of-factly. But on the inside, he had flinched at Barj's words.
"I don't want it back! I don't want it open! I wish you'd just stayed away!" Barjnal's voice broke, taking on the unholy bass pitch he hardly ever let slip out. The roofing tar beneath his feet began to steam and bubble.
"Careful what you wish for, Barjnal." Timothy looked away quietly. "Words have power."
"I didn't say how far away, Timothy!" With that, Barj folded his arms and turned his back on him.
Timothy stood quietly, waiting patiently for a few moments. It wasn't easy to play smart people, especially if they already knew they were being played. He needed to craft the truth carefully. He needed to strike a balance between what he was demanding and what he was giving. It was a risky business. Perhaps that's part of why he normally enjoyed conning people, but right now? It was all falling flat inside him. He normally didn't con people he actually cared about.
He cleared his throat quietly. "I'm sorry, Barjnal." His voice was drained of the self-assurance he'd been faking up until now. He really was sorry, though that's not why he was saying it. It was calculated honesty, and it disgusted him.
"For what?" Barj snapped.
"For this. And for before." Timothy kicked a stone. It clattered off the side of the roof, down to the streets below. "That's all I can give you right now." He tried to let his voice sound genuine. He was being rather genuine in this, actually, even if his motives weren't good.
Barj ground the pebble underneath his own foot around some more, grinding it into the partially molten tar. He swiped his sleeve across his nose hastily.
After a few awkward moments, Timothy shifted his weight and cleared his throat again. "You want to go out on patrol?"
"Not really, but you need me to cover for you."
"You don't need to tonight, if you don't want to." Part of Timothy was hoping he'd say no, even though he knew it would help his case a lot if they did. He could really use a break after this. He felt a bit nauseous.
"You want to, though."
"I don't want to force it."
Barjnal hesitated a few moments. "I told Tina I'd help her with a Circle problem."
"We could do that." Timothy was easing his voice back into a casual, friendly timbre again.
"Just... stay invisible, okay?"
Timothy was caught off guard by that. Though, once he thought about it, it did make some sense. "Okay." He faded from sight.
"Thanks." Barj kicked off the roof, flying low in the sky, not looking back.
Timothy followed, invisible in the shadows.
A rather loud, startled squeak made him wince. "Timothy?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"What're you doing?"
"Wondering if you could spare a moment to meet. I'm over in King's Row, on a rooftop at fifth and third."
There was an awkward pause. "What's this about?"
"I'd rather talk in person."
"You won't tell me?" The traces of suspicion in Barj's voice were deepening.
"I will, but I'd rather just start from the beginning in person, rather than... this."
"Oh... okay. Um. I'll be right over."
Timothy turned the comm off to wait, letting out a relieved sigh. He hadn't been entirely sure Barj would even be willing to speak to him, much less meet him. He might have been able to pull this off over the comm, but it'd be much safer in person. Still, his stomach churned with uncertainty and anxiety.
* * * * *
Timothy was leaning against the wall of one building, on the roof of the building immediately adjacent to it. This part of King's Row was quite tonight, for now at least. He watched as Barj flew in from the east.
"Hey Barj." He smiled.
"Um. Hi." Barji's reticence was obvious. He kept yards back, out of reach.
"I'll cut to the chase." Timothy looked him directly in the eyes, pausing a moment. He knew Barj would see through any attempts at outright deception, so he might as well take control by being direct. "If that's okay?"
Barjnal took a few steps closer. "Um. Yeah." He rolled a pebble around under his foot.
Timothy looked away from Barjnal again, pausing a moment to affect as though he were gathering his thoughts. "They've decided they've wasted enough time on me and are going to be sending me to a military school in September. D. L. Payne Academy for Boys in, of all places, Oklahoma." Another pause, and then he returned his gaze to Barj again. "I don't intend to go."
"No!" Barj's eyes went wide for a moment before he reigned himself back in. "They know that isn't going to fix you. That'll just be bad for you."
"Exactly. They're just looking to get rid of their problematic individual at this point. So, I'm going to give them what they want, by conning them." Timothy knew it was a gamble, but putting it out there early gave him time to adjust and change tactics if Barj reacted too poorly to the idea. If he waited too long, if he built any rapport before introducing it, he'd just give Barj a feeling of increased alienation. He knew he had to alienate first, then potentially build rapport. It was a risk, but if it paid off...
Whatever alarm remained in Barj's expression quickly evaporated, replaced in its stead by obvious disappointment. "What do you mean?"
"In order to stay, I need a 'miracle,' as Gemini puts it. So, I'm giving them a miracle."
"You don't know miracle spells yet."
"Don't need to." Timothy smiled in a very friendly manner, then turned as though speaking to someone standing next to Barj. "Hi! How are you today?" He paused, obviously 'listening' to the response with interest. "Oh, I'm pretty good today, thanks for asking." He paused again, then a few moments later laughed as though he had just been told a really funny joke. He cut off the laugh mid-way and turned back to Barj, quirking an eyebrow. The personality he'd just faked was convincingly friendly and amicable, a drastic contrast from how Timothy normally presented himself.
Barjnal's frown deepened with greater disappointment. "Are you trying to convince them you've made an imaginary friend? That's probably better than no friends at all, I guess."
Timothy knew Barji understood his point and decided not to dignify his acerbic comment with a response. "I'm also running patrol." Timothy paused, concentrating briefly. His clothes shimmered, then shifted into his patrol outfit. "In costume."
Barj's frown faded a bit, giving away to surprise. "Wow. Um. You changed it."
"Yeah. A while back." Timothy paused for a heartbeat, then took the opportunity to add a casual yet calculated remark. "You never got to see it, though."
Barj flinched a bit. "Oh." He paused a moment. "Why're you telling me?"
"The school's not stupid. They may well guess at what I'm doing. But what are they going to do? They can't very well tell me I can't stay if I'm no longer a problem student, if in fact I'm suddenly an exemplary student."
"But you have to keep it up after the semester or they'll know you were lying."
"I'll deal with that when the time comes." Timothy wasn't about to admit to Barj that he'd been avoiding thinking about that prospect. "But I'm not going to Payne Academy."
Barjnal avoided eye contact. "You could just actually be nice and really run patrol and mean it." His voice was sullen.
"That's not me, and you know it." Timothy paused. He'd laid out the situation for Barj, now he just had to work Barj around to helping him. So far, things were going better than he'd feared they might have. "There's one factor that's outside my control in the whole situation, though." Technically, it was within his control, but Timothy wasn't willing to use the bond to supersede Barjnal's free will just to save his own skin. He did have some boundaries.
Barjnal brought his head up to make eye contact with Timothy, giving him a cold, hard look. "I can't lie. And even if I could I wouldn't lie for you about this."
"I know. You're capable of dancing around the truth pretty damn well, though."
"You need me to cover for you." Barji sounded regretful and angry, but also partly resigned.
Timothy paused. It was now on the table. He had to be careful. "At least partially, yes. If we're still avoiding each other and sullen about one another it's obvious that a major problem isn't resolved. And that threatens the whole facade."
"Nothing I told you stuck, did it?" Barjnal looked at him accusationally.
Timothy knew that wouldn't be a good path for the discussion to head down, so he just ignored the question. It was rhetorical, anyway. "You'll cover for me, because you like the alternatives less." He was being very hard, too hard. But what choice did he have? "I know you well enough to know that."
"You probably know me well enough to know what I'm thinking about you right now, too."
"Probably." He paused, still not fully certain that he actually wanted to go through with the next part of his gambit. He couldn't risk not doing it, though. "But I wasn't quite done."
"Well, finish up." Barj's tone was sullen, angry.
For the first time in half a year, Timothy stopped blocking Barjnal out of his mind, stopped blocking their connection through the bond. He was an open book again, if Barj should choose to look.
"I'm not blocking you out anymore. And I'm not projecting anything unwelcome again either." Timothy knew Barj had to sense the change, but he could also tell that Barj wasn't looking. In part, he was relieved that he wasn't looking. He felt too exposed, too raw for Barj to look. If Barj looked, he'd see just how much of his act was really just that: an act. His confidence all a show. His resolution all a calculated bluff. Barj would see just how much Timothy hated doing this, and how much he felt he had to do it anyway. Still, he'd fully expected Barj to at least peek... He hadn't anticipated him not looking at all. Maybe he knew he was faking it all anyway. Barjnal was still standing there, holding his gaze, clearly angry. Affecting a casual tone, Timothy added, "unless you'd rather I not?"
"I think you're mean and terrible, Timothy Bastian."
"Perhaps. But I'm also wounded and lonely." He spoke the words calmly, as though they didn't touch him, but they did. His insides turned to actually say that, to admit it out loud.
"And you just expect me to come back!?" Barjnal's voice had raised to an uncharacteristically uncontrolled shriek.
"No." Timothy looked at him, making eye contact. "I expect you to be severely pissed at me and resent me and wish I'd just stayed the hell away. But we both know that's not an option right now."
"You're terrible! You're horrible, coming back like this, making me cover for you like this to everybody. I hate it and I can hardly think of anything worse!"
"I know." Timothy stated it simply, matter-of-factly. But on the inside, he had flinched at Barj's words.
"I don't want it back! I don't want it open! I wish you'd just stayed away!" Barjnal's voice broke, taking on the unholy bass pitch he hardly ever let slip out. The roofing tar beneath his feet began to steam and bubble.
"Careful what you wish for, Barjnal." Timothy looked away quietly. "Words have power."
"I didn't say how far away, Timothy!" With that, Barj folded his arms and turned his back on him.
Timothy stood quietly, waiting patiently for a few moments. It wasn't easy to play smart people, especially if they already knew they were being played. He needed to craft the truth carefully. He needed to strike a balance between what he was demanding and what he was giving. It was a risky business. Perhaps that's part of why he normally enjoyed conning people, but right now? It was all falling flat inside him. He normally didn't con people he actually cared about.
He cleared his throat quietly. "I'm sorry, Barjnal." His voice was drained of the self-assurance he'd been faking up until now. He really was sorry, though that's not why he was saying it. It was calculated honesty, and it disgusted him.
"For what?" Barj snapped.
"For this. And for before." Timothy kicked a stone. It clattered off the side of the roof, down to the streets below. "That's all I can give you right now." He tried to let his voice sound genuine. He was being rather genuine in this, actually, even if his motives weren't good.
Barj ground the pebble underneath his own foot around some more, grinding it into the partially molten tar. He swiped his sleeve across his nose hastily.
After a few awkward moments, Timothy shifted his weight and cleared his throat again. "You want to go out on patrol?"
"Not really, but you need me to cover for you."
"You don't need to tonight, if you don't want to." Part of Timothy was hoping he'd say no, even though he knew it would help his case a lot if they did. He could really use a break after this. He felt a bit nauseous.
"You want to, though."
"I don't want to force it."
Barjnal hesitated a few moments. "I told Tina I'd help her with a Circle problem."
"We could do that." Timothy was easing his voice back into a casual, friendly timbre again.
"Just... stay invisible, okay?"
Timothy was caught off guard by that. Though, once he thought about it, it did make some sense. "Okay." He faded from sight.
"Thanks." Barj kicked off the roof, flying low in the sky, not looking back.
Timothy followed, invisible in the shadows.
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Blitzen
- Talent Scout
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- Location: Nowhere near whatever was broken
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((This piece takes place during the weekend before the Invasion. Mostly I'm a slacker and have been slow as molasses with writing lately. Thanks to Timothy for co-writing this, and for letting me be on his thread.))
Sam took to the air with a relieved sigh. She'd been sent to clean a few Carnies out of a warehouse in Independence Port, except that a few turned out to be a lot, and she'd spent longer in there than she'd expected. It was past curfew, and the weather was turning sour: storm clouds overhead, and thunder not so very far away. She made her way back across town, flying low over the buildings towards the Green Line.
She was flying so low over them, she didn't see him until she'd almost flown into him.
"Crud, sorry about that," she said, coming to an abrupt stop a few feet away. "I didn't see you--" Her eyes caught on his tail, then took in his brown hair. "Holy cow, Timothy? Is that you? Are you okay?"
"Hello, Sam." There was an irritated tone to his voice. And a slight slur. "I'm fine. You can go on your way."
She landed on the roof quietly. He was holding a Nalgene bottle filled with a dark liquid, but not much of it. The air was filled with the smell of booze. Independence Port. That's where he'd gone last time. She suddenly got a bad feeling about him sitting on the very edge of the building like he was, his feet dangling over the side. If he jumped...
"Timothy, what are you doing up here? It's past curfew."
"None of your business. Just go away."
"No can do, bud, on account of you reek like a brewery on a hot day, and I really doubt you'll be able to sneak past the sisters without a little help. " She chewed on the inside of her lip a bit, debating about adding more. "If you were planning on coming back, that is." She said quietly, looking down over the edge.
"Does it matter? Maybe I'll just stay here tonight." He took a swig from his Naglene, then added pointedly. "Alone."
Sam nodded, but sat beside him irregardless. "Alone time's good, sometimes." She unzipped her backpack, fishing out a bottle of Mt. Dew which fizzed over upon opening. She held it over the edge while the antifreeze colored liquid dripped over disappearing into the darkness below. "I'd ask if something was bugging you, but you'd say 'yeah, you' so I'll just sit here and not say anything, and if you want to talk about something, you can, otherwise it'll be exactly like you're alone, except for me sitting here, being quiet."
"What is it with you people?" Timothy's voice was louder now, not quite yet a shout but definitely inflamed with anger. "If I wanted to talk about something, I'd talk to stupid Conrads, wouldn't I? Get lost!"
As he finished speaking, he struggled to stand to his feet. He swayed dangerously, and for a moment, looked like he might fall off the side of the building by pure accident until he finally managed to step back in relative safety. He took another swig from his Naglene then closed his eyes, obviously concentrating. His body flickered and a spasm of translucency swept across him for a brief moment, but he remained visible. He opened his eyes and looked down at himself in irritation.
"Damn you! Stop interfering with my magic!"
Sam watched his actions out of the corner of her eye while taking a sip of soda and hoping she looked like she was unfazed, while her stomach flip-flopped. She'd braced to grab him if he fell, and part of her almost wished he had. She could have grabbed him and landed him safely on the ground and then worried about keeping an eye on him there. She knew if he went invisible, she'd have no chance of making sure he was safe.
"I don't know so much about magic." She said, straightening her left shoelace. "Or Conrads for that matter. But like I said, if you don't want to talk, that's cool too. Mostly I wanna make sure that you don't do anything goofy that'd make the news tomorrow, but I can sit here and and make sure of that and not say nothing if that's what you want."
She could hear him mutter something, obviously in irritation, but it was low and indistinct. He turned from her and started to walk away from the roof's edge, only to trip over his own feet, landing sprawled on his face scarcely two yards away. A few long moments passed in silence before he muttered, "Oh, blood. How fun."
She didn't say a word, instead digging a few stale napkins from a fast food place out of her backpack. Crouching down next to him, she placed one hand on the back of his shoulder, while offering him the make-shift tissues, gesturing with a nod for him to take them. She knew he likely wouldn't. Timothy was cantankerous on his own, and that's when sober. Drinking just affected people in different ways. Some, like Billy, usually became more friendly, talkative. But Timothy, it was as if the liquid added the vinegar back into his disposition. He'd been doing so much better, he was actually getting out and around more, there were no more rumors or stories of him making students cry, and she never saw him in detention. So what triggered this?
Timothy's eyes moved to the napkins, but he didn't reach for them. A flash of lightning in the distance illuminated them for a moment, letting Sam more easily see that he'd acquired a bloody nose, but nothing very serious. It had created a small pool on the rooftop next to his face. His eyes were glassy.
"Why?" His voice broke as he asked the question. Then he repeated it, more quietly, almost as though to himself. "Why?"
"... 'Well, you tripped, and I think you bashed your nose but good, I thought you maybe bit your lip or something. And I usually carry a bunch of stuff in my backpack that sometimes comes in useful. Sorry they're not real tissues, or anything, but they'll work." She said, offering them again. Her tone matched his, low and quiet, and she rubbed the back of his shoulder gently. He was hurting from something, not just a bloody nose, something inside.
"Tha's not wha' I meant..." His voice wasn't much more than a dull mumble now. "Jus'... just never mind. I can fend for myself. I don't need help."
"I know." She said earnestly. "I'm just letting you know that you don't always have to. Fend for yourself, I mean. Sometimes, it's okay to let someone else do some of the fending. And you don't need help, I know that. You don't want help, I know that too. But just so you know? I'm not going anywhere. And you can call me whatever names you want for it on account of it's just words, but I'm not just leaving you here."
"Why not? Why would you stay? I hate you. I hate all of you!" His voice raised from the mumble to a shout. Timothy struggled to stand, but didn't get much further than a slumped sitting position. He finally gave up, then added quietly. "You all hate me, anyway. Jus' too goody-goody not t'let me be." She sat down next to him, but took care to not crowd him. She winced a little to see his nose still slightly bleeding, but tried not to react, as she carefully chose her words.
"I don't hate you bud. I don't know you good enough to hate you. And you never done anything to me when we've been on campus or on the streets, so everything to me is just rumors. And besides, you don't hate me, not really. You'd... you'd likely watch out for me, too."
"No I wouldn't." He looked away, but after a few moments added something in another mumble. "Maybe. I dunno." He sat quietly after that, eventually putting his head down into his arms. It wasn't until he started sniffling that Sam realized he was quietly crying.
Sam fixed the loops on her right shoelace, chewing the inside of her cheek while deciding her next move, thinking that talking with Timothy was very much like a chess game. Every word she said he had a counter for. And even though chess really wasn't her game, she didn't want to think of what the consequences of checkmate would be.
"Is it bad?" She asked quietly. "I mean, I know it's gotta be bad, on account of we're sittin' on a roof, and you've been drinking a lot, and if the rumors I heard was true, that means that this isn't the first time, and well, maybe if you tell me what it is, it won't hurt so bad. And you don't have to worry about me on account of the fact that I'm a little tougher than I look, so no matter what it is, I can handle it, and I'm a little stronger than I look, so I have good shoulders that can maybe help you hold whatever it is for a bit." She paused for a moment, taking a sip of soda, waiting for him to say something, anything before continuing. "My dad says I got a bad habit of tearing the band-aid off a fresh scab sometimes, but the way I see it, if you don't air it out, all that's gonna happen is that you're gonna get a big nasty scar, you know? And not the kind that you can show someone to impress, like by saying "I fell off my dirt bike" but more the kind that's on the inside that you can't see, and can't do nothing about."
For a long while, he didn't respond. He just sat there, sniffling occasionally. When he finally spoke, his voice was muffled and strained. "They want t'send me to Oklahoma. To military school. 'Cause I won't play well with others."
"Well... if you really don't like us, then... what's it matter? I mean, you can not like them there, just as easily as you can not like us here, but for what it's worth? I don't wantcha going off to a military school in Oklahoma. And I think maybe Barji would miss you a lot. You been doing great lately, I seen you out and about a lot more, and you were even hanging out in Pocket D a few times. So see? You do play good with others. They got no reason to send you."
"Conrads knows I'm faking it. I don't wanna go. And Barjnal..." Timothy rubbed at his face. "I won't go that far from him."
"Faking it?" Sam asked, letting the words sink in for a bit while she messed with her left shoelace.. She figured it was best to drop that much for now, and focus on what could keep him calm. "Why don't you want to go that far from him?" Sam looked at him.
Timothy sat quietly for a while. It seemed like he'd stopped crying. He sat up more, then finally responded, quietly. "We have a bond." Sam rubbed the back of her neck in response.
"I know the two of you were real close, and I know he cares a lot about you too, still, even if you aren't ... y'know, together together, so I'm sure you do have some sorta bond between you. I mean, you both been through a lot together. And Barji, Barji's a real good guy."
"No." Timothy shook his head a bit for a moment, stopping abruptly and uneasily from the motion. "Magic. Needed an anchor in this realm. We... I bonded him, like a familiar. But had to make it deep, had to make it a soul bond. So they couldn't take him..." Timothy's voice trailed off. Sam watched as he took a long swig from his Nalgene bottle, and nodded, not quite sure to make of what he was saying. On one hand, there was a ton of magic- "hocus-pocus" stuff she just would accept at face value. It happens, even if she didn't know an explanation behind it. On the other, she knew sometimes people said goofy things when they'd been drinking, but he was so serious, almost sincere about it, she was pretty sure he was speaking from the heart and not from the alcohol.
"So what happens, if you go too far away? Does that mean Barji's gotta go back?" She liked Barji. He was fun to be around, he always made her smile, made her laugh, even when it seemed like all the chips were down. She sort of knew where he came from, and knew for sure it WASN'T Toledo, and she didn't want him to have to leave, especially since the place he'd escaped was so horrible. "Can't you tell them that? Conrads, I mean. Let him know what will happen?"
"Can't tell him that, can't tell anybody! What if the Circle find out? Or somebody like Marlowe? No, can't let people know, too dangerous. Might go after him, and if I'm not here, don't know what will happen. Won't be able to help as well. Could work through him, but never actually done it before." Timothy seemed to be getting agitated again, his voice becoming louder and a touch frantic. "And I don't want to work through him. Don't want to see into his mind! Don't want him so close! This wasn't how it was s'posed to be. Isn't what I was looking for. Why is he doing this to me?!"
Timothy chugged the last of whatever it was he was drinking. A moment later, Sam startled as he threw the empty bottle quite forcefully at the edge of the roof, where it caught the edge before flying off into the darkness. Timothy mumbled irritably. "Damn Nalgene bottle never holds enough."
Sam jumped a little at the action as she heard the bottle smash. She was hoping talking about Barji would calm Timothy down, not make matters worse. Her mind raced trying to think up something to say to calm him down, but questions were the only things that sprung to mind.
"Who's doing what to you?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. "Conrads by wanting to send you someplace else, or ... you mean Barji?"
"Yes Barjnal!" And then the heat left his voice again, giving way to misery. "I had a chance, he was my friend, even though I didn't wan' it. But I screwed it up. Do it again, too, I know it. Jus' matter of time." Sam sat for a good moment in silence, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Did he want Barji as his friend, or didn't he? If he wanted him as a friend, the solution was simple. Then again, it was just as easy if he didn't want Barji as his friend. Then maybe he DID want Barji as his friend, but he was for whatever reason scared of maybe letting him be. Sam shook her head slightly.
"Barji.... he's a real nice guy, you know? No matter what you did, I bet if you just talked to him about it, he wouldn't be steamed over it. So, maybe you might make another mistake, but the thing is, maybe you could... you know, try not to. I mean, if your thinking like he's better off without you.... that's really not your choice to make, it's not fair you get to make a decision like that on your own. So maybe you try and screw it up, on account of you're thinking he's better off, only he's not. Or maybe it's that you want to hurt him on account of you think if you don't, he's gonna hurt you, and you'd rather do the hurting than be the one being hurt, but way I see it, if you're sittin' up here on this roof drinking 'til you can't feel anything, that's a form of hurting too. Maybe."
"Barji always forgives. Eventually. What d' you know anyway... just let me alone..." He trailed off into a yawn. There was no antagonism in his voice now, just drunken heaviness. He stirred, then laid down on the rooftop.
The sky finally made good on its promise: it started to rain, fat drops slowly falling but gaining in momentum. Sam knew it would be pouring soon.
"If you're planning on sleeping, you know, your bed would be much more comfortable. Come on, I'll help you sneak on campus."
"Huh? I can... alright..." Amazingly, Timothy didn't fight as she hauled him to his feet. In fact, he seemed like he might be cooperating, though it was hard to tell with him being as drunk as he still was. As they made their way back to campus, Sam hoped the sisters were patrolling lightly tonight.
Sam took to the air with a relieved sigh. She'd been sent to clean a few Carnies out of a warehouse in Independence Port, except that a few turned out to be a lot, and she'd spent longer in there than she'd expected. It was past curfew, and the weather was turning sour: storm clouds overhead, and thunder not so very far away. She made her way back across town, flying low over the buildings towards the Green Line.
She was flying so low over them, she didn't see him until she'd almost flown into him.
"Crud, sorry about that," she said, coming to an abrupt stop a few feet away. "I didn't see you--" Her eyes caught on his tail, then took in his brown hair. "Holy cow, Timothy? Is that you? Are you okay?"
"Hello, Sam." There was an irritated tone to his voice. And a slight slur. "I'm fine. You can go on your way."
She landed on the roof quietly. He was holding a Nalgene bottle filled with a dark liquid, but not much of it. The air was filled with the smell of booze. Independence Port. That's where he'd gone last time. She suddenly got a bad feeling about him sitting on the very edge of the building like he was, his feet dangling over the side. If he jumped...
"Timothy, what are you doing up here? It's past curfew."
"None of your business. Just go away."
"No can do, bud, on account of you reek like a brewery on a hot day, and I really doubt you'll be able to sneak past the sisters without a little help. " She chewed on the inside of her lip a bit, debating about adding more. "If you were planning on coming back, that is." She said quietly, looking down over the edge.
"Does it matter? Maybe I'll just stay here tonight." He took a swig from his Naglene, then added pointedly. "Alone."
Sam nodded, but sat beside him irregardless. "Alone time's good, sometimes." She unzipped her backpack, fishing out a bottle of Mt. Dew which fizzed over upon opening. She held it over the edge while the antifreeze colored liquid dripped over disappearing into the darkness below. "I'd ask if something was bugging you, but you'd say 'yeah, you' so I'll just sit here and not say anything, and if you want to talk about something, you can, otherwise it'll be exactly like you're alone, except for me sitting here, being quiet."
"What is it with you people?" Timothy's voice was louder now, not quite yet a shout but definitely inflamed with anger. "If I wanted to talk about something, I'd talk to stupid Conrads, wouldn't I? Get lost!"
As he finished speaking, he struggled to stand to his feet. He swayed dangerously, and for a moment, looked like he might fall off the side of the building by pure accident until he finally managed to step back in relative safety. He took another swig from his Naglene then closed his eyes, obviously concentrating. His body flickered and a spasm of translucency swept across him for a brief moment, but he remained visible. He opened his eyes and looked down at himself in irritation.
"Damn you! Stop interfering with my magic!"
Sam watched his actions out of the corner of her eye while taking a sip of soda and hoping she looked like she was unfazed, while her stomach flip-flopped. She'd braced to grab him if he fell, and part of her almost wished he had. She could have grabbed him and landed him safely on the ground and then worried about keeping an eye on him there. She knew if he went invisible, she'd have no chance of making sure he was safe.
"I don't know so much about magic." She said, straightening her left shoelace. "Or Conrads for that matter. But like I said, if you don't want to talk, that's cool too. Mostly I wanna make sure that you don't do anything goofy that'd make the news tomorrow, but I can sit here and and make sure of that and not say nothing if that's what you want."
She could hear him mutter something, obviously in irritation, but it was low and indistinct. He turned from her and started to walk away from the roof's edge, only to trip over his own feet, landing sprawled on his face scarcely two yards away. A few long moments passed in silence before he muttered, "Oh, blood. How fun."
She didn't say a word, instead digging a few stale napkins from a fast food place out of her backpack. Crouching down next to him, she placed one hand on the back of his shoulder, while offering him the make-shift tissues, gesturing with a nod for him to take them. She knew he likely wouldn't. Timothy was cantankerous on his own, and that's when sober. Drinking just affected people in different ways. Some, like Billy, usually became more friendly, talkative. But Timothy, it was as if the liquid added the vinegar back into his disposition. He'd been doing so much better, he was actually getting out and around more, there were no more rumors or stories of him making students cry, and she never saw him in detention. So what triggered this?
Timothy's eyes moved to the napkins, but he didn't reach for them. A flash of lightning in the distance illuminated them for a moment, letting Sam more easily see that he'd acquired a bloody nose, but nothing very serious. It had created a small pool on the rooftop next to his face. His eyes were glassy.
"Why?" His voice broke as he asked the question. Then he repeated it, more quietly, almost as though to himself. "Why?"
"... 'Well, you tripped, and I think you bashed your nose but good, I thought you maybe bit your lip or something. And I usually carry a bunch of stuff in my backpack that sometimes comes in useful. Sorry they're not real tissues, or anything, but they'll work." She said, offering them again. Her tone matched his, low and quiet, and she rubbed the back of his shoulder gently. He was hurting from something, not just a bloody nose, something inside.
"Tha's not wha' I meant..." His voice wasn't much more than a dull mumble now. "Jus'... just never mind. I can fend for myself. I don't need help."
"I know." She said earnestly. "I'm just letting you know that you don't always have to. Fend for yourself, I mean. Sometimes, it's okay to let someone else do some of the fending. And you don't need help, I know that. You don't want help, I know that too. But just so you know? I'm not going anywhere. And you can call me whatever names you want for it on account of it's just words, but I'm not just leaving you here."
"Why not? Why would you stay? I hate you. I hate all of you!" His voice raised from the mumble to a shout. Timothy struggled to stand, but didn't get much further than a slumped sitting position. He finally gave up, then added quietly. "You all hate me, anyway. Jus' too goody-goody not t'let me be." She sat down next to him, but took care to not crowd him. She winced a little to see his nose still slightly bleeding, but tried not to react, as she carefully chose her words.
"I don't hate you bud. I don't know you good enough to hate you. And you never done anything to me when we've been on campus or on the streets, so everything to me is just rumors. And besides, you don't hate me, not really. You'd... you'd likely watch out for me, too."
"No I wouldn't." He looked away, but after a few moments added something in another mumble. "Maybe. I dunno." He sat quietly after that, eventually putting his head down into his arms. It wasn't until he started sniffling that Sam realized he was quietly crying.
Sam fixed the loops on her right shoelace, chewing the inside of her cheek while deciding her next move, thinking that talking with Timothy was very much like a chess game. Every word she said he had a counter for. And even though chess really wasn't her game, she didn't want to think of what the consequences of checkmate would be.
"Is it bad?" She asked quietly. "I mean, I know it's gotta be bad, on account of we're sittin' on a roof, and you've been drinking a lot, and if the rumors I heard was true, that means that this isn't the first time, and well, maybe if you tell me what it is, it won't hurt so bad. And you don't have to worry about me on account of the fact that I'm a little tougher than I look, so no matter what it is, I can handle it, and I'm a little stronger than I look, so I have good shoulders that can maybe help you hold whatever it is for a bit." She paused for a moment, taking a sip of soda, waiting for him to say something, anything before continuing. "My dad says I got a bad habit of tearing the band-aid off a fresh scab sometimes, but the way I see it, if you don't air it out, all that's gonna happen is that you're gonna get a big nasty scar, you know? And not the kind that you can show someone to impress, like by saying "I fell off my dirt bike" but more the kind that's on the inside that you can't see, and can't do nothing about."
For a long while, he didn't respond. He just sat there, sniffling occasionally. When he finally spoke, his voice was muffled and strained. "They want t'send me to Oklahoma. To military school. 'Cause I won't play well with others."
"Well... if you really don't like us, then... what's it matter? I mean, you can not like them there, just as easily as you can not like us here, but for what it's worth? I don't wantcha going off to a military school in Oklahoma. And I think maybe Barji would miss you a lot. You been doing great lately, I seen you out and about a lot more, and you were even hanging out in Pocket D a few times. So see? You do play good with others. They got no reason to send you."
"Conrads knows I'm faking it. I don't wanna go. And Barjnal..." Timothy rubbed at his face. "I won't go that far from him."
"Faking it?" Sam asked, letting the words sink in for a bit while she messed with her left shoelace.. She figured it was best to drop that much for now, and focus on what could keep him calm. "Why don't you want to go that far from him?" Sam looked at him.
Timothy sat quietly for a while. It seemed like he'd stopped crying. He sat up more, then finally responded, quietly. "We have a bond." Sam rubbed the back of her neck in response.
"I know the two of you were real close, and I know he cares a lot about you too, still, even if you aren't ... y'know, together together, so I'm sure you do have some sorta bond between you. I mean, you both been through a lot together. And Barji, Barji's a real good guy."
"No." Timothy shook his head a bit for a moment, stopping abruptly and uneasily from the motion. "Magic. Needed an anchor in this realm. We... I bonded him, like a familiar. But had to make it deep, had to make it a soul bond. So they couldn't take him..." Timothy's voice trailed off. Sam watched as he took a long swig from his Nalgene bottle, and nodded, not quite sure to make of what he was saying. On one hand, there was a ton of magic- "hocus-pocus" stuff she just would accept at face value. It happens, even if she didn't know an explanation behind it. On the other, she knew sometimes people said goofy things when they'd been drinking, but he was so serious, almost sincere about it, she was pretty sure he was speaking from the heart and not from the alcohol.
"So what happens, if you go too far away? Does that mean Barji's gotta go back?" She liked Barji. He was fun to be around, he always made her smile, made her laugh, even when it seemed like all the chips were down. She sort of knew where he came from, and knew for sure it WASN'T Toledo, and she didn't want him to have to leave, especially since the place he'd escaped was so horrible. "Can't you tell them that? Conrads, I mean. Let him know what will happen?"
"Can't tell him that, can't tell anybody! What if the Circle find out? Or somebody like Marlowe? No, can't let people know, too dangerous. Might go after him, and if I'm not here, don't know what will happen. Won't be able to help as well. Could work through him, but never actually done it before." Timothy seemed to be getting agitated again, his voice becoming louder and a touch frantic. "And I don't want to work through him. Don't want to see into his mind! Don't want him so close! This wasn't how it was s'posed to be. Isn't what I was looking for. Why is he doing this to me?!"
Timothy chugged the last of whatever it was he was drinking. A moment later, Sam startled as he threw the empty bottle quite forcefully at the edge of the roof, where it caught the edge before flying off into the darkness. Timothy mumbled irritably. "Damn Nalgene bottle never holds enough."
Sam jumped a little at the action as she heard the bottle smash. She was hoping talking about Barji would calm Timothy down, not make matters worse. Her mind raced trying to think up something to say to calm him down, but questions were the only things that sprung to mind.
"Who's doing what to you?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. "Conrads by wanting to send you someplace else, or ... you mean Barji?"
"Yes Barjnal!" And then the heat left his voice again, giving way to misery. "I had a chance, he was my friend, even though I didn't wan' it. But I screwed it up. Do it again, too, I know it. Jus' matter of time." Sam sat for a good moment in silence, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Did he want Barji as his friend, or didn't he? If he wanted him as a friend, the solution was simple. Then again, it was just as easy if he didn't want Barji as his friend. Then maybe he DID want Barji as his friend, but he was for whatever reason scared of maybe letting him be. Sam shook her head slightly.
"Barji.... he's a real nice guy, you know? No matter what you did, I bet if you just talked to him about it, he wouldn't be steamed over it. So, maybe you might make another mistake, but the thing is, maybe you could... you know, try not to. I mean, if your thinking like he's better off without you.... that's really not your choice to make, it's not fair you get to make a decision like that on your own. So maybe you try and screw it up, on account of you're thinking he's better off, only he's not. Or maybe it's that you want to hurt him on account of you think if you don't, he's gonna hurt you, and you'd rather do the hurting than be the one being hurt, but way I see it, if you're sittin' up here on this roof drinking 'til you can't feel anything, that's a form of hurting too. Maybe."
"Barji always forgives. Eventually. What d' you know anyway... just let me alone..." He trailed off into a yawn. There was no antagonism in his voice now, just drunken heaviness. He stirred, then laid down on the rooftop.
The sky finally made good on its promise: it started to rain, fat drops slowly falling but gaining in momentum. Sam knew it would be pouring soon.
"If you're planning on sleeping, you know, your bed would be much more comfortable. Come on, I'll help you sneak on campus."
"Huh? I can... alright..." Amazingly, Timothy didn't fight as she hauled him to his feet. In fact, he seemed like he might be cooperating, though it was hard to tell with him being as drunk as he still was. As they made their way back to campus, Sam hoped the sisters were patrolling lightly tonight.
TGIF -Tanks Go In First
"Miss Douglas, we know about the nuts."
"Sam's the most amazing gamer EVER, and I love her footwear." - Laurel Fitte
"Miss Douglas, we know about the nuts."
"Sam's the most amazing gamer EVER, and I love her footwear." - Laurel Fitte
-
Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
- Contact:
((Wonky Time! This takes place after the Invasion started to wind down, as things were getting back to normal again. Special thanks to Barj, Sam, and Ves for letting their characters drop in!))
"They're not really afraid of people, actually." Kimberly Stone lifted the squirrel in her hand up onto her shoulder, where it promptly sat down and started eating the acorn she'd provided to it. "They just run from anything bigger than them by instinct. Once they realize you're safe, that instinct stops making them flee."
"I bet feeding them helps, doesn't it? The squirrels here on the quad come a lot closer than the ones in the park." Barjnal tilted his head, looking at the small creature. "Can I pet it?"
"I don't know if she'd like that. She only trusts me this much because I keep talking to her to keep her calm." Kim reached up and scratched the squirrel's head. "She'd probably run off if you get too close."
"Aww." Barjnal pouted a bit.
"So how do you talk to them?" Timothy smiled, trying to strike up a conversation that would make her think he found her interesting. He didn't, really. Talking to animals was of limited utility, and it was certainly something he could probably achieve by magic if he ever needed to. "Is it a form of telepathy?"
"Yes, actually, it's exactly telepathy. Doc Syl says that I..."
Timothy let his attention drift as Kim started babbling. He nodded and commented noncommittally enough to keep her engaged, to keep up the impression that he was listening actively. He dimly sensed Barjnal's disapproval of his actions, but that was nothing new. Barj played along though, which Timothy did actually appreciate.
"Sam! Ves!" Timothy jerked his head around towards the two girls Barjnal was waving at. "Come see Kim's squirrel!"
Sure enough, they started heading over. He plastered a believable winning smile on his face and prepared for them. Ever since that night when Sam more or less dragged him back to his quad, he'd been gingerly avoiding her. He vaguely implied that he didn't remember anything with his actions, and Sam so far seemed to be content not to try to push the matter. But still, it was best not to spend too much time with her, just in case.
"Hey Kim. You charming the wildlife again?" Sam grinned at the girl, who smiled back amicably.
"I think the wildlife is charming us, actually. You're all gathered around her, not the other way around."
Timothy laughed along with everyone else at the statement. He let his mind drift again as Ves asked if she could pet the squirrel and Barjnal piped up to explain why she couldn't. The conversation flowed, moving from one topic to another, and Timothy kept up his friendly façade. He noticed Sam would occasionally give him an appraising look, but she didn't say anything troublesome. Not yet, anyway.
"It's so good to have things getting back to normal again. I think the CVC will be busy in the Warzone for quite a while yet, but at least things in the city are starting to get back to normal again."
Timothy noticed Ves grimace at Sam's mention of the CVC and made a mental note of it. It's always helpful to know what people like and dislike, after all. He glanced at his watch and noticed that they'd been talking for about twenty minutes. Long enough he could take the opportunity to leave without seeming like he was jetting off too quickly.
"Speaking of the Warzone, I'm scheduled to go help out here soon, so I should get going. I'll see you all around later!"
They all said goodbye and Timothy headed off. He could vaguely sense Barjnal's disappointment again. After all, they both knew he wasn't actually scheduled to help in the Warzone. Still, he did still need more hours of community service to prove to the school he was trying, so he might as well follow through with it anyway. As much as he absolutely hated working in the Warzone, it was the most convincing thing he could do.
Once again, he found himself hoping they'd relent soon and let him stay. September wasn't all that far off.
"They're not really afraid of people, actually." Kimberly Stone lifted the squirrel in her hand up onto her shoulder, where it promptly sat down and started eating the acorn she'd provided to it. "They just run from anything bigger than them by instinct. Once they realize you're safe, that instinct stops making them flee."
"I bet feeding them helps, doesn't it? The squirrels here on the quad come a lot closer than the ones in the park." Barjnal tilted his head, looking at the small creature. "Can I pet it?"
"I don't know if she'd like that. She only trusts me this much because I keep talking to her to keep her calm." Kim reached up and scratched the squirrel's head. "She'd probably run off if you get too close."
"Aww." Barjnal pouted a bit.
"So how do you talk to them?" Timothy smiled, trying to strike up a conversation that would make her think he found her interesting. He didn't, really. Talking to animals was of limited utility, and it was certainly something he could probably achieve by magic if he ever needed to. "Is it a form of telepathy?"
"Yes, actually, it's exactly telepathy. Doc Syl says that I..."
Timothy let his attention drift as Kim started babbling. He nodded and commented noncommittally enough to keep her engaged, to keep up the impression that he was listening actively. He dimly sensed Barjnal's disapproval of his actions, but that was nothing new. Barj played along though, which Timothy did actually appreciate.
"Sam! Ves!" Timothy jerked his head around towards the two girls Barjnal was waving at. "Come see Kim's squirrel!"
Sure enough, they started heading over. He plastered a believable winning smile on his face and prepared for them. Ever since that night when Sam more or less dragged him back to his quad, he'd been gingerly avoiding her. He vaguely implied that he didn't remember anything with his actions, and Sam so far seemed to be content not to try to push the matter. But still, it was best not to spend too much time with her, just in case.
"Hey Kim. You charming the wildlife again?" Sam grinned at the girl, who smiled back amicably.
"I think the wildlife is charming us, actually. You're all gathered around her, not the other way around."
Timothy laughed along with everyone else at the statement. He let his mind drift again as Ves asked if she could pet the squirrel and Barjnal piped up to explain why she couldn't. The conversation flowed, moving from one topic to another, and Timothy kept up his friendly façade. He noticed Sam would occasionally give him an appraising look, but she didn't say anything troublesome. Not yet, anyway.
"It's so good to have things getting back to normal again. I think the CVC will be busy in the Warzone for quite a while yet, but at least things in the city are starting to get back to normal again."
Timothy noticed Ves grimace at Sam's mention of the CVC and made a mental note of it. It's always helpful to know what people like and dislike, after all. He glanced at his watch and noticed that they'd been talking for about twenty minutes. Long enough he could take the opportunity to leave without seeming like he was jetting off too quickly.
"Speaking of the Warzone, I'm scheduled to go help out here soon, so I should get going. I'll see you all around later!"
They all said goodbye and Timothy headed off. He could vaguely sense Barjnal's disappointment again. After all, they both knew he wasn't actually scheduled to help in the Warzone. Still, he did still need more hours of community service to prove to the school he was trying, so he might as well follow through with it anyway. As much as he absolutely hated working in the Warzone, it was the most convincing thing he could do.
Once again, he found himself hoping they'd relent soon and let him stay. September wasn't all that far off.
-
Timothy Bastian
- Posts: 761
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 1:01 am
- Contact:
((Wonky time! This is set in late August.))
"I'll trust your judgment on it, Dave. It certainly couldn't--" Regina Wolston interrupted herself at the sound of someone rap-tap-tapping on Conrads' office door, glancing first at her watch before giving the doctor an amused look. "Who'd have guessed? He's actually on time."
"I told you he would be." Dr. David Conrads replied, then pitched his voice loud enough to more easily carry through the door. "Come in please, Timothy."
The door swung open and the young man stepped inside. He shut it smoothly behind himself, glanced around the office from Regina to Dave to Gemini, then slipped into the only available seat. "Of course I'm on time, Ms. Wolston. I wouldn't dream of keeping you waiting."
A brief laugh escaped from Gemini before she managed to cover her mouth. A bit of a grin quirked at the corner of Regina's mouth, despite herself. Conrads managed a straight face, though. "Are you trying to tell me that my office door's too thin, Timothy?"
"Suits me just fine, actually." The young man relaxed into his seat, appearing collected and confident. Conrads knew it was at least partially an act, though. Timothy somehow had figured out how to largely conceal his emotional state, even from an empath like himself, but enough still leaked through intermittently for him to get a rough sense of where Timothy might be at. There were traces of apprehension, touches of nervousness, perhaps even a bit of fear.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Conrads smiled amiably. "Doors aside, we're here to evaluate your situation, as I told you last week. Regina, Gemini, and I have reviewed your files and assessed your progress. While we all agree that you still have much to work on, we also all agree that you've accomplished a lot over the summer. Your grades have improved, your disposition towards your classmates has improved. Your parents have told us that while you're still distant, you're at least less antagonistic when you go home. During the invasion, you volunteered extensively, and even before and after it you have put significant time towards community service activities. These are all signs that you're trying to do better, and that you have been doing better. They're evidence of a good faith effort on your part, and they're evidence that you're stabilized enough that we feel comfortable allowing you to continue at Saint Joseph School."
A smile bloomed across Timothy's face. "So I'm not being shipped off to Payne Academy after all?"
"That's right, Timothy." Gemini smiled back at him. "You can stay here, if that's what you'd like."
"Well yeah, definitely!" Timothy nodded, a touch enthusiastically. "Thank you!"
"There's one more thing, though," Conrads interjected.
Timothy's smile faded a bit. "What's that?"
"While you've made some progress in our counseling sessions, I don't feel you're progressing as well as you could." Conrads leaned forward slightly. "It's a fact of psychology that individuals respond differently to various styles of counseling. I think perhaps that I'm not best suited to help you further."
"So what does that mean?" Timothy's smile had transitioned into a look of caution.
"I'd like you to start working with Valerie Atwood. Her approach to counseling is substantially different than mine, and I hope that you might find it more conducive to working through some of your problems. It will also give you a clean slate to start over fresh with someone; some people find that helpful. However, it's your choice. We don't want to force you to change counselors if you'd prefer not to."
Timothy gave Regina a brief inscrutable look, then returned his gaze to Conrads. "I'll do it under one condition."
Conrads raised his eyebrows. Knowing Timothy as he did, he wasn't surprised at the response, but he suspected Timothy would expect him to be surprised, so he acted accordingly. "What's your condition?"
"No more required community service."
"Now hold on, Timo--" Regina started, clearly not pleased by his request, but Conrads cut her off.
"It's a deal."
Regina and Timothy both looked at him in surprise. Regina grimaced a bit, but held her tongue. Timothy smiled widely.
"Alright! So what's next? What do I have to do now?"
"Just make sure you show up for your appointments with Valerie. She already has you scheduled for an appointment next week." Conrads extended a small appointment card with the date and time, which Timothy took. "That's it."
"Wow, okay." Timothy looked at the card, then pocketed it. "Well... I guess I'll see you all later, then. Thank you!"
"Bye, Timothy." Gemini smiled at him as he headed out the door. "Take care!"
A few moments later, after he seemed like he'd be safely out of earshot, Regina stood up and closed the door, then sat back down. "What was that all about? Letting him stop community service. I think it's a bad idea."
"I think it's a bad idea to force him to continue, actually." Conrads leaned back, thoughtfully. "Let him have a break. He may well need it, after what he dealt with during the invasion. Transferring dead bodies is something that takes its toll. I think, in time, he'll come back to it though. Besides, Saint Joe's isn't a fan of forcing students to participate in heroics."
"I guess I'll trust your judgment on that too, then. Though I don't like it." Regina grimaced again. "You do realize he was faking that whole smiles-and-happiness routine."
"Of course." Conrads shrugged. "He's been faking more than that, actually. But it doesn't change anything of relevance."
"I hope Valerie can get him to open up," Gemini sighed. "He has a lot of potential. A lot of room for growth."
"And a lot of learning to do, too, evidently." Regina added, chortling.
Gemini raised an eyebrow delicately. "What do you mean?"
"Did either of you happen to look into D. L. Payne Academy for Boys?"
Both Gemini and Conrads shook their heads no. "You were handling it, so I didn't bother," Gemini added.
"And neither did he," Regina grinned. "Sometimes, it's best to get them at their own games."
"What are you getting at, Regina?" Conrads asked, looking bemused.
"With a name like 'Pain Academy', you'd think people would at least get suspicious." Regina looked quite pleased with herself. "But the young con artists usually don't. There's no such school. I made it up."
Gemini and Conrads looked shocked for a moment before busting out in laughter. Somehow, it all seemed so very appropriate for Timothy.
"I'll trust your judgment on it, Dave. It certainly couldn't--" Regina Wolston interrupted herself at the sound of someone rap-tap-tapping on Conrads' office door, glancing first at her watch before giving the doctor an amused look. "Who'd have guessed? He's actually on time."
"I told you he would be." Dr. David Conrads replied, then pitched his voice loud enough to more easily carry through the door. "Come in please, Timothy."
The door swung open and the young man stepped inside. He shut it smoothly behind himself, glanced around the office from Regina to Dave to Gemini, then slipped into the only available seat. "Of course I'm on time, Ms. Wolston. I wouldn't dream of keeping you waiting."
A brief laugh escaped from Gemini before she managed to cover her mouth. A bit of a grin quirked at the corner of Regina's mouth, despite herself. Conrads managed a straight face, though. "Are you trying to tell me that my office door's too thin, Timothy?"
"Suits me just fine, actually." The young man relaxed into his seat, appearing collected and confident. Conrads knew it was at least partially an act, though. Timothy somehow had figured out how to largely conceal his emotional state, even from an empath like himself, but enough still leaked through intermittently for him to get a rough sense of where Timothy might be at. There were traces of apprehension, touches of nervousness, perhaps even a bit of fear.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Conrads smiled amiably. "Doors aside, we're here to evaluate your situation, as I told you last week. Regina, Gemini, and I have reviewed your files and assessed your progress. While we all agree that you still have much to work on, we also all agree that you've accomplished a lot over the summer. Your grades have improved, your disposition towards your classmates has improved. Your parents have told us that while you're still distant, you're at least less antagonistic when you go home. During the invasion, you volunteered extensively, and even before and after it you have put significant time towards community service activities. These are all signs that you're trying to do better, and that you have been doing better. They're evidence of a good faith effort on your part, and they're evidence that you're stabilized enough that we feel comfortable allowing you to continue at Saint Joseph School."
A smile bloomed across Timothy's face. "So I'm not being shipped off to Payne Academy after all?"
"That's right, Timothy." Gemini smiled back at him. "You can stay here, if that's what you'd like."
"Well yeah, definitely!" Timothy nodded, a touch enthusiastically. "Thank you!"
"There's one more thing, though," Conrads interjected.
Timothy's smile faded a bit. "What's that?"
"While you've made some progress in our counseling sessions, I don't feel you're progressing as well as you could." Conrads leaned forward slightly. "It's a fact of psychology that individuals respond differently to various styles of counseling. I think perhaps that I'm not best suited to help you further."
"So what does that mean?" Timothy's smile had transitioned into a look of caution.
"I'd like you to start working with Valerie Atwood. Her approach to counseling is substantially different than mine, and I hope that you might find it more conducive to working through some of your problems. It will also give you a clean slate to start over fresh with someone; some people find that helpful. However, it's your choice. We don't want to force you to change counselors if you'd prefer not to."
Timothy gave Regina a brief inscrutable look, then returned his gaze to Conrads. "I'll do it under one condition."
Conrads raised his eyebrows. Knowing Timothy as he did, he wasn't surprised at the response, but he suspected Timothy would expect him to be surprised, so he acted accordingly. "What's your condition?"
"No more required community service."
"Now hold on, Timo--" Regina started, clearly not pleased by his request, but Conrads cut her off.
"It's a deal."
Regina and Timothy both looked at him in surprise. Regina grimaced a bit, but held her tongue. Timothy smiled widely.
"Alright! So what's next? What do I have to do now?"
"Just make sure you show up for your appointments with Valerie. She already has you scheduled for an appointment next week." Conrads extended a small appointment card with the date and time, which Timothy took. "That's it."
"Wow, okay." Timothy looked at the card, then pocketed it. "Well... I guess I'll see you all later, then. Thank you!"
"Bye, Timothy." Gemini smiled at him as he headed out the door. "Take care!"
A few moments later, after he seemed like he'd be safely out of earshot, Regina stood up and closed the door, then sat back down. "What was that all about? Letting him stop community service. I think it's a bad idea."
"I think it's a bad idea to force him to continue, actually." Conrads leaned back, thoughtfully. "Let him have a break. He may well need it, after what he dealt with during the invasion. Transferring dead bodies is something that takes its toll. I think, in time, he'll come back to it though. Besides, Saint Joe's isn't a fan of forcing students to participate in heroics."
"I guess I'll trust your judgment on that too, then. Though I don't like it." Regina grimaced again. "You do realize he was faking that whole smiles-and-happiness routine."
"Of course." Conrads shrugged. "He's been faking more than that, actually. But it doesn't change anything of relevance."
"I hope Valerie can get him to open up," Gemini sighed. "He has a lot of potential. A lot of room for growth."
"And a lot of learning to do, too, evidently." Regina added, chortling.
Gemini raised an eyebrow delicately. "What do you mean?"
"Did either of you happen to look into D. L. Payne Academy for Boys?"
Both Gemini and Conrads shook their heads no. "You were handling it, so I didn't bother," Gemini added.
"And neither did he," Regina grinned. "Sometimes, it's best to get them at their own games."
"What are you getting at, Regina?" Conrads asked, looking bemused.
"With a name like 'Pain Academy', you'd think people would at least get suspicious." Regina looked quite pleased with herself. "But the young con artists usually don't. There's no such school. I made it up."
Gemini and Conrads looked shocked for a moment before busting out in laughter. Somehow, it all seemed so very appropriate for Timothy.