Getting carried away [open]

[anonymous]

[ooc: A new thread. Phew, it's been such a long time, and I'm worried if I can't RP anymore. Let's see about that. Haha.]

He stumbled into the empty auditorium, relishing in the sweet solitude of his...demise.

Funny he should call it that. He was just bored, that's all. Bored out of his mind. And all this boredom...was getting him depressed.

Normally he'd feel scarred, mortified at the thought of himself being depressed. But now, here it was, and he felt like it never mattered.

Damn. Damn damn damn.

He sat on the chair before the piano, noticing absent-mindedly that the instrument was dusty, like it hasn't been used for so long. Come to think of it, he never really heard much from this place- it was either because people never bothered to come by or they didn't know how to play.

But he wanted to play. Sure, it's been such a long time since he last played the piano, but with nobody listening...it wouldn't hurt to try.

He raised the wooden cover over the keys, stretching his fingers over the small white slabs.

And let go.

It was enlightening. At first, his fingers were a little slow and reluctant, but he quickly got used to the feeling and the movement.

He sank into a blissful thoughtlessness as his hands moved with fluid precision over the notes. He had never felt as though the keys were an extension of his hands, but there seemed to be no separation between him and the music, as though they were one with each other. He didn't even to think to recall the notes; they flowed out of his fingers as his eyes fell shut and he lost himself.

He didn't know how long he played, but he moved from that piece back to Beethoven, choosing a more mournful tune rather than an invigorating one. The slower ones suited him more as he launched into the simple opening to “Fur Elise”, one of his mother's favorites. Notes dropped like sakura petals, drifting slowly to the floor in the stillness around him as though he played alone in some dark concert hall, the only light a single beam from above, illuminating his tiny self in this vast room. He was only peripherally aware of the silence of the other patrons, focused only on the music and himself.

When it was over, it was like waking up. His fingers stilled on the keys as his eyes fluttered open, and he felt a sense of loss, as though something was leaving him. Something wet touched his hand, and he so slowly tilted his head down so as not to disturb the tranquility of the moment. His lips parted slightly, a dreamy lassitude coming over him as he studied the back of one hand. There it was again, the feeling like warm rain...

Reality invaded his senses with uncharacteristic harshness, breaking up the feelings of solace. He was crying.

But he wasn't in public, and no one was there, so...thank god for that.

[U n k n o w n ;]

OOC: Time for Lavi's revival too =O

Had he not the slightest idea why he's been such a good boy studying in his dorm. He is, probably one of the rare boys who gets their own room, without having to 'share' it.

It was a small, shady place, with only one window that pointed west, not east. Hence the sun will only be seen when it sets, not when it rises. No wonder he oversleeps a lot? No, not really. He's quite the narcolleptic one.

Today was his day off from all those stressing studies of the second grade; it's been a year. Last year, the red-head headband clad boy entered this academy without knowing any knowledge about alice academy, let alone about alices.

First times were rough, but in his case, it wasn't. The time he had arrived was in the evening of a sunday, the next day, class commences the same, only with two new names added to the class list. Both were boys, around the same age, height and weight. Coincidentally, one of the boys were able to withstand annoyance, while the other boy was the one with an annoying personality.

Both became good friends and in short times, they became good friends. Though now they seemed somewhat distant, the red-head still consider the light-haired as his best friend.

It's been a long time since he was out to enjoy fresh air from the outside, and not from the opened window of his dorm room. It feltgood showering one's self with the sunshine in one winter day, which nearly came to an end. Seeing no changes in the surroundings, he walked into the auditorium.

Had it been a long time since he last came in. A few rearrangements were made, and more instrumental instruments were set out. The stage was bright with moreno one had been coming to the auditorium, it took him quite the time to notice the piano keys in the background of all his 'wow's and 'ah's.

He cocked his head to the side, seeing where the source of the music came from. There sat a boy with his head down, his hair covering part of his face which was viewed sideways from the red-head. There he stood dumbstruck with his mouth opened, his head cocked and his whole stance was a mess. Was it the music, or the fact that the boy had his head down that made him go in such a stance? Who knows.

[anonymous]

[ooc: We're alive!!! xDD]

He didn't know how long he stayed in that position, with his head bent like that, but he figured it was quite a long time since at first...well, there wasn't anybody with him by that time, or so he thought.

He turned his head to the side, still tilted down. It took him awhile to have the fact settle upon his brain- which felt oddly as if it was stuffed with cotton, he mused angrily- and when he did accept reality as it is, he jerked up straight, turned away, wiping his eyes.

Why had he been chanced upon at such a bad time? When he was emotionally weakened, there comes a total stranger to see him cry? He felt his face heat up, and he knew that it wasn't from the lack of ventilation in the place.

"W-what are you doing here?" he asks, his back on the intruder, standing to his full height. He knew he shouldn't direct his anger on an innocent bystander like this, but he couldn't keep from growling at the other guy.

When he was sure his eyes were dry, and praying that they weren't red and blotchy, he faced him , making sure that half his face was covered by the crimson mop of unruly hair atop his head.

It was time to harden up, that was for sure.

He cocked an eyebrow after taking in the man's appearance, noting how...surprised he was. Was it really necessary to jaw drop?

[U n k n o w n ;]

OOC: Yaay! xD Anyhow, I took a quick look at your bio, it's impressive =P

"W-what are you doing here?"

Much to his surprise, he doesn't even know why he's even here. He just wanted to see what has changed and what hasn't. Looks like, even the freshmen have changed too. Even though he was quite the strange freshmen last year.

Jumping slightly as the reddish-brown freshmen virtually barked at him. He placed his left hand on his headband which wrapped around his forehead. Had it been with him for, ever: that headband.

He closed his mouth. The whole thing was a joke.

"What are you doing here?"

The red-haired asked back. It was obvious what the other boy was doing though, obviously playing the piano. And yet his intentions were not clear, even to himself.

His high rate of the constant hybernation he's been doing as literally mixed his mind up. He was said to b reliable when it comes to remembering things, yet he couldn't even remember his light-haired best friend once. And the poor boy had to explain a lot before he finally realises who it was.

Jokingly grinning, he waved his hand in front of the other boy's face.

"Not crying anymore? I was about to fetch you some tissues."

[anonymous]

[ooc: Err...thanks. I haven't seen yours though. >.< Sorry. Have you been here long?]

"What are you doing here?"

That was a good question. He had not been expecting his own form of attack (or was it? Wasn't it just some distraction from his tears?) to be thrown back at him. But now he was facing the same problem the other had been able to deflect; answering that damned question.

He was originally here to simply take a look. Now...he wasn't so sure, after wasting himself on the piano. He wasn't intentionally going to play on the instrument...he just...felt like it.

Stupid. Look where this got you now, snides his inner voice. Such an awkward position to be in.

He couldn't give a damn, though.

"Thou have not the authority to demand me of my own reasons." he replied smoothly, after awhile. "And I the same."

That did not settle him, and he knew the same could be said for the other boy.

He leaned back a bit when his companion waved a hand before his face. "Not crying anymore? I was about to fetch you some tissues."

He bristled, like a territorial cat, at that.

"I would not need any of those," he said heatedly. "I wasn't crying. To be honest, it's quite dusty here, and something came into my eye..."

That was the stupidest excuse he's ever made, and he knows that very well.

[U n k n o w n ;]

OOC: Dunno xD

He simply smiled at the idiotic comeback from the other boy. Though interested in the reason why he was crying, he shouldn't meddle with personal life.

"If that's how you want to say it."

Turning around from the boy, he placed his hands behind his head and took another good look at the room which had change from a dull room, to an even duller room.

He turned around to face the boy from the corner of his eyes. His face showed the face which was stained by tears. Real tears at that.

The red-haired would never know how it feels like to cry for no reason. Everytime he felt like crying he ended up laughing anyway. And he hadn't felt any 'sadness' lately either. A lame thought came to his mind that all the studies made his emotions deplet and disperse.

Maybe it was a good thing, since he is a successor of a panda-faced old man who claims himself as a bookman.

"Anyway" He started again. "Mind playing the piano once more? Or would you rather question me first?"

[anonymous]

[ooc: Oh well. ;_;]

"If that's how you want to say it," smiled the boy, and he could feel his face heat up. He has never been so humiliated in his life. This wasn't a good time, especially.

When the other man turned away for awhile to observe the room, Drake took the time to fix himself into something more like him. He combed his hair back with a hand, enjoying the smooth feel of his crimson locks gliding in between his fingers. His eyes should look better now- he wasn't crying that long, or that hard, after all.

She hadn't returned, now had she? No; the days went by without her giving notice of him, and he knew she was just busy. But was it really like that? Was that really the reason, or she's...scared of him somehow? He couldn't blame her for being scared. He wanted it that way.

Or did he?

Nevertheless, was that really a good reason to cry about? He's never bothered himself with trivial matters such as love before...no, after his father died, he got used to the coldness in the air. Oh wait, scratch that. There always had been a coldness in the air. The atmosphere had never changed, with or without Von Drae Sr. It was always like that. So why was he searching for the so-called warmth that once filled his home when there never existed such a thing?

"I don't want to hurt her," he whispered, more to himself. It felt better, after all, to voice out the truth. "And being with her would."

Was he making sense?

No.

His companion hadn't heard, though, for he asked something that wasn't related to his words. "Anyway, Mind playing the piano once more? Or would you rather question me first?"

"If thou want me to," he replied, his voice louder this time. "I'm just not...feeling it anymore."

[U n k n o w n ;]

Not feeling 'it'?

He was confused. Of course he would, who wouldn't? For someone who's been here for more than a year now, he sure is slow to get the way things work in the academy. Not everyone with a harsh past (even though he doesn't realise it) could take it lightly and think it's nothing to think about.

Perhaps if he knew that much, he wouldn't be so lively now, would he? Though knowing that he is practically 'no one' in the world. Just an observer to keep a record of history. A complete tool.

He could somewhat understand the boy's depression. Though he couldn't do too much about it, since he doesn't know anything.

"Not feeling what?" He questioned. "The music or..?"

From the tone of his words, the red-haired could tell that the boy doesn't really want to do anything at the time. He was at a loss of what he could do, since he's just got no clues of how to cheer people up.

Soon, he shook his head, and waved his hand in front of his face.

"Scratched the idea." He quickly responded, "Why don't we clean the place up instead?"

Perhaps, if the other lad was the one who'll do the entertaining and this one is the observer, they'd feel quite awkward, no? At least he thinks so. Besides, the place needs a bit of a clean up.

[anonymous]

"Not feeling what?" He questioned. "The music or..?"

Well, even if he did take that back, Drake was prepared to answer. He felt better that way, being able to explain something he had done. It never felt embarrassing to him- maybe because he could clearly justify his actions, or whatever.

"I don't feel like playing." he said quietly, smiling at his companion. "It's...hard. I can't bear it. If you know what I mean,"

Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. He would not bother to know that though.

"Scratched the idea." the boy quickly said, but it was too late to take the words back, and Drake's reply had already been said- so what was the point? "Why don't we clean the place up instead?"

That seemed like a good idea. it wasn't anywhere near emotionally stressful, and it would be nice to stretch his joints a bit. It had been a long time since he last moved a lot...and that was in a fight, even.

"Before we start..." he said, turning to pick up the long fallen objects on the floor (be it instruments or whatnot), "May I know thy name?"

It was funny that they had already shared words without knowing what to call the other. Really. At least they needn't to speak in third person.

[U n k n o w n ;]

"May I know thy name?"

Even the red-haired forgot. Maybe the whole deal with knowing people's name is not such a big deal to him. After all, he himself owns no name. He was simply 'assigned' to a name. A name to cover himself up. Though the past cannot be burried. The fact that he was just a plain street child that happens to be picked up by an old man which the latter would then pass own his knowledge and thus the cycle continues.

He blinked his eyes after pausing for a short while. Getting back to the reality of how stupid he was not to ask for someone's name. It was common knowledge to know people's names before they even talk, sometimes. Or else, they talk THEN introduce themselves.

"Oh. OH yeah, of course." He said hesitantly. "I'm called.. Lavi"

Somehow that introduction doesn't even fit a no-named like himself anymore. He felt as if he was lying. And which he was, but just for the sake of keeping personal matters to self, he has to lie.

"And you are..?"

The headband-clad boy opened the storeroom to find cleaning materials such as mops, buckets, brooms, wipers and cleaning solvents. The cleaning equipment itself was already looking dull.

[anonymous]

[ooc: short. I gotta go. T^T]

"Oh. OH yeah, of course." the newly introduced Lavi said hesitantly. "I'm called.. Lavi."

That was unexpected, he thinks, letting a smile peak in his face. The name itself was simple in its structure, yet unique. He has never heard such a name before. He should give credit to the person who had named this boy before him- to be polite, in a way.

"And you are?"

It was his turn to introduce himself, and for a moment Drake felt tired to repeat the same phrase all over again.

He should anyway. It was the only thing he could say, for that moment.

"I'm Drake..." he paused, thinking one more time if he needed to say his whole name. Deciding, he added, "...Von Drae."

[U n k n o w n ;]

OOC: Drakeeh fell into Lavi's trap =OOO.

Drake's answer was short and simple unlike his hesistant one. His way of talking was very polite, again, it was unlike his. Not much equillibrium that the two lads have. The other boy's smile made himself grin widely.

"Nice to meet you, Dork." He said jokingly.

It was him to make up stupid jokes out of people's names. Sure, some of them may feel very offended, but those who are offended are often the ones who are what he said to be. Thus they get worked up about it, because it's true.

Hopefully this one wouldn't do the same though.

Not a lot of people could ever stand Lavi. He was the 'annoying' one. And not a lot of people likes to be around people with an 'annoying' personality. Apart from one person, whom became his best friend.

Those sort of people, are truely liked by him. Maybe it's because they were able to accept a person as they are without having to change themselves?

Of course, everyoe likes to be accepted as they are.

He reached out to the brooms and grabbed two of them. Handing the other one to Drake. He grinned once more, as his uncovered eye's eyeball became quite hard to see.

"I'm joking, Drakie"

[anonymous]

He flinched inwardly as the insult left Lavi's lips. Normally he'd react violently but...not today. He wasn't feeling like it. Besides, he'd gotten himself in enough trouble already.

As always.

"I'm joking, Drakie." Said his companion, but it wasn't reassuring...not a bit. He never took kindly those who dared insulted him- but this kid, where was he at? Did fate decide to mock him further and throw crap in his face?

Nevertheless, Drake was pissed, and he needed to keep his mind off the whole matter. If he'd do anything to Lavi...think of all the trouble...

He groaned verbally, dusting his hands on his pants. Boy, wasn't it dusty here. Too dusty for his sake. He needed fresh air, or he'd--

The sudden blow that was sent upwards from his lungs to his throat sent him into a coughing frenzy after he sneezed. He bent down, still hacking away, and he could feel his legs tremble. At last, at long last, the rain and dust were getting to him; his mind was pounding in pain, his eyes were getting blurry, and he could swear it was tears in his eyes as he shut the lids close. This fit had to stop...or else.

He quickly shuffled to exit the room, bursting out a little clumsily. But he was free of the dust and grime, and he breathed in the sweet scent of pure oxygen- not the kind that was kept in that musty room.

[ooc: Ohs noes. T^T]

[U n k n o w n ;]

Seeing the other lad run off from the room after his joke, he had the urge to drop his mouth. Was a joke too much to handle, or was he the one that's too much? Obviously he hadn't paid much attention to his expression before he left the room. But if the red-head was smart (which, he surprisingly is), he'd go and recall back what he had seen.

Still holding the pair of brooms he took out from the storeroom, before the other boy ran out of course. He raised an eyebrow. Looking at the brooms. Maybe the boy didn't want to clean up after all?

'He.. ran away from me...'

The young lad then looked out the door from the room, where his new acquintance ran out from. It then came to him that there was bits of dusts flying around, practically everywhere. He's always wondered why the dusts didn't make him sick. Perhaps it was because he's 'used' to it? He did live in harsh places of the world sometiems. It's hard to believe that this boy's somewhat wealthy and well graded.

The red-head placed the brooms carefully against the grand piano and trotted over to the windows, opening all of them widely. Motioned his hands as if he was trying to get the dusts out from the room by waving his hands around.

Now, if he recalled, that would be the third person he had insulted, or teased since he had came to this school. First it was a girl, quite short at height, hence he simply spitted out the word: short, in front of her. It was that time he had nearly faced judgement placed forth upon him, but since lady-luck smiles upon the red-head, he was saved. The second was his best friend, whom that time, he hadn't seen for a while. He teased the lavender-head, pretending that the boy had forgotten him completely.

He walked out of the room, leaving it as it is, just so the dust would go out, and new air fills the room and circulate around the area. He then placed a hand on his junior's shoulder, that is, if he doesn't 'dodge' and somewhat offend him.

"Did the dust bite you, Drakie?"

[anonymous]

Did...the dust...bite?

Oh yeah, it did. Painful, even. He was surprised to not find blood on his palms when he hacked into them. His throat was scratchy, irritant, but he was, more or less, alright.

He didn't know he was allergic to dust. Maybe he wasn't used to them- after all, all his life he had lived within a grand mansion, free of dirt or any grime. His maids had always made sure that everything was 'spic and span', as they had called it.

But the fact that he was actually...weaker in a great dusty room annoyed him. Scared him. In fact, there were so many words to define his feelings after finding out that he wasn't immune to something as harmless as dust.

He kept his eyes shut against the rays of light, hugging his shoulders. There was pain too- he was scared of pain, wasn't he? Physical pain...it rattled him, intimidated him, taunted him to do something to it...but he was just a kid, was he not?

He thought he was. He should be.

"I'm just...I don't do well in dirty places, that's all." he said casually as he felt the warmth of the other boy's palm on his shoulder, and he forced himself to be okay. "Sorry about that. Shall we start?"

[ooc: thesis over. Drakeeh eesh free! xDD]

[U n k n o w n ;]

The junior somewhat resembled Yuki-- his best friend in a way. They were both aristocrating looking and clean. Not that he himsel wasn't clean, but he doesn't look as if he was someone who would have had a very rich background. In fact, he's practically homeless. And would stay homeless if someone hadn't bothered to pick him up from he streets.

He was unwanted-- without a real name, a real home, real family, real ethnic group (though he looks like someone who's half asian half western).

With that kind of bright-red colored hair, who would have known it was his natural hair color. Or what nationality he could possibly be-- perhaps because of the alice? Who knows.

He only told Yuki about that though.

Though the two do share some equillibrium. They're both good looking, both smart looking. And him-- he's smat, but stupid looking. They're both not really open to others, though Yuki opened up to him.

He smiled.

Having a sudden liking towards this boy, because he, and his first-ever best friend was similar.

"I'm just...I don't do well in dirty places, that's all."

As he suspected. Though those kind of quotes comes in quite frequently in this academy.

"Sorry about that. Shall we start?"

"Certainly." He said with a smile.

Lifting his palm away from the boy's shoulder. Wondering if the boy would really be okay if they were to clean up a room filled with dirt and god-knows what, when he doesn't do well in dirty places.

OOC: Nevar. Once you fall in you never get back up, Drakeeh. On a side note.. --points at Siggeeh. Your cosplay?

[anonymous]

...Certainly.

Well, he wasn't really planning to wait for the kid's approval, but he got it nonetheless. With a shrug, he walked back into the room, putting a palm over the area below his eyes- just to make sure he wouldn't succumb to another embarrassing cough fit again.

But the room was less dusty than when he had left it awhile ago. And realizing this, he turned to the place where he knew the other boy was going to enter, his back to the open windows.

"I am grateful to thee," he said, though not feeling grateful at all, "I think I can work here now."

He resumed to what he had been doing earlier; bending down and picking up numerous fallen objects that littered the floor, then turning to the grand piano. He felt the urge to sit and play again but...Lavi was here, and though he wasn't much of a danger, he was a prick, and it annoyed him to have him see his less guarded state. With a sigh he grabbed a piece of cloth, a bit damp from being locked up that way for so long that it disgusted him, and swiped the smooth surface of the musical instrument. At once, the thick layer of dust disappeared where he had wiped it.

"So. When do thou think we'll finish?" he asked into the silence, not bothering to turn around. "We can't stay here for long."

[ooc: As I've said, my cosplay. >.>]

[U n k n o w n ;]

Though it isn't supposed to feel weird for him-- the whole clean up and all. After a year of not cleaning up anything, he sort of went with the flow of not cleaning up everything. Everything, every cleaning was done by lifeless robots that roam around the academy, being bossy even though they don't have a life.

He gave off a small sigh. The silence wasn't a noise that he liked. Sure he's loud and he talks a lot, but he can't just keep blabbering nonsense when the other party isn't even listening. He's not that annoying. Though he can be.

"When thou you think we'll finish? We can't stay here for long..."

After grabbing the broom, sweeping the dust covered, or whatever was on the floor away, revealing a nice clean tile underneath it, he took a glance at the boy.

"There's no rule where it says we cannot stay in this room for as long as we like." He said, "besides, we're here for a good 'cause, yeah?"

Soon, he jumped into conclusion that a lot of people in this academy are so sophisticated, and so, child-like, they can't even take jokes. It's like putting a five year old with twenty four year olds.