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Post by Evan Gabriel Fletcher on Jun 2, 2013 22:27:20 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] hey baby won’t you look my way, I can be your new addiction Words: 518 Outfit: here Notes YAY ROOMMATES!
Evan laid back in bed. It was Saturday. In the middle of the afternoon.The weather outside was ungodly - it was honestly too hot to do anything at all. So Evan stayed in his, thank god, air conditioned dorm room. He was bored. He had read all of the books in his room [all of them - the ones piled in the bookshelf by his bed, the ones on his bedside table - even the two stacks on the coffee table]. He didn't particularly feel like rereading a book. Or writing one. He thought about what else he could do in his free time. He could paint. Or draw. Or maybe play guitar and write a song. Quite honestly, Evan had many options for how to spend his free time. But none of them seemed appealing. So he just rolled on his side in his bed, brain storming new ideas. But his creativity levels were at an all time low. Using the bluetooth speakers he had recently bought, he connected his iPod to them and turned on Maroon 5's album Songs About Jane. He turned it down so it was quiet, background music.
Sighing, Evan looked over at the made, empty bed across from his. He wished he had a roommate. Especially on days like today where they could be hanging out and jamming to music or playing video games or watching TV or something. Evan often wondered if anyone would ever occupy the other bed. He hadn't touched that bed since he got here. It was untouched and in pristine condition. So was the dresser and bedside table that should belong to his nonexistent roommate. He ached for someone to hang out with on a day like today. Any other day, Evan wouldn't have minded. On days where he had to stay home, Evan felt lonely.
Huffing, Evan pulled himself out of bed. He pulled on some real clothes - jeans and a teeshirt. He picked up his dirty clothes and threw them into a hamper, making a mental note that he'd have to wash them soon. He also started straightening out the room; it was a habit of his to clean whenever he got too bored. He hummed along to Must Get Out in the background as he neatly put his shoes away. He dusted the bookshelves and moved all of the stray books back to their rightful places. However, he did keep a stack of his favorites on the coffee table in the room. But the flat looked clean again and Evan smiled triumphantly.
Evan looked at his watch. It was just about 12;30 pm. He may as well put the kitchen to good use and cook something up. He grabbed some pasta, oil, and salt from the cabinet. He began boiling the water. When the noodles were done he threw some cooked bacon, broccoli, and mushrooms onto it. He had to admit, it smelled pretty good. He grabbed a plate and sat down. He was hoping for someone to join him, but who? He had no roommate. Not yet anyway.
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Post by NICOLAS WYLIE GRAHAME on Jun 2, 2013 23:44:59 GMT -5
sometimes before it gets better the problem, he thought, was that the afterlife was far more active than he'd expected it to be.
where was the fire and brimstone? where was the pointed horns and the pitchfork, the red-skinned devil telling him and now your soul shall burn in hell? there wasn't any of that - in fact, that afterlife seemed disappointingly pleasant, the kind of place you'd want your grandmother to retire to when she got so old and senile that none of your siblings (nor yourself) wanted to take care of her. where everyone smiles at you as they pass and waves and says have a nice day! the kind of place that nicolas never wanted to end up.
well, i'm stuck here now, he thought absently, checking himself over. it'd been, what? five minutes since he'd arrived, and already he'd been assigned a dorm room and had been told to hurry and sign up for classes. nicolas had almost said, "are you dumb?" but decided against it - he just tightened his lips and took the paper obediently, checking the room number and then stuffing it into his pocket. he left it crumpled there, making his way to the dorms.
mentally, he went over a check. was he in stable condition? he couldn't tell - he was dead, after all, so what really counted as "stable condition" anymore? his limbs all seemed to be in working order, as well as his organs, but there was a bitter taste of ash in his mouth and he wondered if he'd brought some of the remains of his death with him. perhaps this was that tiny bit of hell he'd been promised by his father all of those years. would he always taste the ash? would he always remember that he hadn't had time to get out of his house to see his brother one last time before he died?
from what he remembered, death had been agonizing. all his life, with his father's damnations ringing in his ear, nicolas had prayed that his death would be a soft and quiet one, one that came as easy as breathing and the summer rains in his hometown. one that didn't hurt. because if he was going to rot in hell, he wanted at least an easy passage. but his death had been painful - it had been terribly hot, searing pain all over his body and ash and soot filling his lungs, suffocating him - and he remembered every bit of it in tiny little flashes of violence, and he hated it. perhaps that was the exchange, though; perhaps his death was painful, and his life-after was the place you sent old people to die.
swiping a tongue around his lips, nicolas sucked in a little breath as he stood outside of his supposed dorm. room 208. they'd told him that he had a roommate already. it was a fact that nicolas had been dreading facing. he didn't necessarily like people all that much. alright, sure, people were fine - but people also required you to socially interact with them, and he much rather preferred to be on his own. the only person he wanted to see was ciaran, and that in itself was a little bittersweet.
he knocked on the door three times before he stepped inside. "urm, hello?" he said, suddenly self-conscious of his thick accent. "i'm - looking for my dorm, and they said this was it. you're-" the boy stopped, pulling out the paper and squinting down at it. "e- evan fletcher?" the darkness gets bigger #evan. 589. outfit.. yay roommates indeed ♥. © zoe. |
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Post by Evan Gabriel Fletcher on Jun 3, 2013 19:02:48 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] hey baby won’t you look my way, I can be your new addiction Words: 717 Outfit: here Notes YAY ROOMMATES!
Evan was sitting on one of the high stools of the kitchen table, minding his own business and eating lunch, when he heard three knocks on the door. He was about to get up to get the door but whoever it was just opened the door and walked in. "Urm, hello?" said an Irish accent. Evan smiled at the guy that just walked into the dorm room. "Hey there," he said pleasantly. "I'm - looking for my dorm, and they said this was it. You're -" he paused, while he pulled out a piece of paper and squinted, "E-Evan Fletcher?" Grinning, Evan nodded. "Yeah that's me. Roommate, huh? What's your name?" Evan asked. He had to admit, he was pretty psyched. He marveled at the fact that he had just thought about how he wanted a roommate, and the poof! There he was. He looked over at him. Evan had to admit, he was pretty good looking. "Come in, come in." Evan motioned for him to come farther into the room. Evan silently thanked any gods above that he'd cleaned up the room out of boredom. He made a mental note that he should probably work on keeping it in order.
"So, welcome home!" Evan grinned over at this roommate, "That's your bed, dresser, and bedside table," he said as he walked further into the room, "Sorry about my collection of books and comics. I tend to read a lot in my free time between classes. I also have a fine assortment of movies, if you're into those things." Evan tried to think if he missed anything important, like spare keys… But the guy already had keys, and nothing else really struck Evan as important. "I just made some lunch, are you hungry?" He grinned at his new roommate, "So this is our humble abode. Soooo, get settled, and I'll be over in the kitchen. So you should come join me." Evan stumbled back into the kitchen. He was almost in shock. He wasn't expecting this, but honestly it was a welcome surprise. He set out a plate and a fork, and then wondered if he would actually come join him.
Evan's mind began thinking of backstories for the stranger. He knew he shouldn't, but his creative mind wouldn't keep quiet. Evan hoped he liked stories and music. It would be good if he shared his love of books, because quite frankly, he might die in here if he didn't. Books were everywhere in the dorm room, despite Evan's attempts to keep them all on the bookshelves. Evan hoped they could watch a few movies together, maybe jam to some music. Then again, he may not like anything that Evan liked which could be totally devastating and tragic. And hopefully his roommate wouldn't mind his other friends he'd made in Dirge. Because they would have visitors, eventually. Then Evan thought about something rather important, that he probably should've thought about first: how did he die? Car accident, a hit and run like him, murdered, shot and killed, falling out of a building…
Then it occurred to Evan that he his roommate not be totally okay, because well, he had probably just died. And Evan knew from experience, it was not the best thing. In fact, it was probably traumatic. Evan remembered his death clearly, even though he was hit by the car. He remembered that before his death he was thinking about how nothing could possible go wrong. In fact, he was beginning to think that he was making something of his life. Things were turning around. Then that stupid truck had to be ironic and kill him. However, Evan could still feel his bones breaking, hear the screams… He did have nightmares about it. But for the most part, he felt relatively okay. He could manage, at least. Evan sat in the kitchen, pushing his pasta around, wondering if he should ask his roommate if he was okay. Maybe he needed to know that Evan was there for him. But the guy didn't seem to be totally ecstatic about moving in, nor did he seem to like having a roommate. So Evan stayed put.
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Post by NICOLAS WYLIE GRAHAME on Jun 3, 2013 19:37:55 GMT -5
sometimes before it gets better the moment nicolas stepped into the dorm room, he was bombarded by the sight of books. they were everywhere - spilling off of the shelves, placed haphazardly in various spots around the room. quickly, nicolas shot the boy - evan, his roommate - a glance through the corner of his eye. was this some sort of ruse? did he think that it made it seem more organized if he only piled them in certain spots around the room, like spreading your food around on your plate so that it seemed like you'd eaten much more than you really had? if so, it wasn't working - not very well, at least - and nicolas only dragged his eyes away fromm reading the titles when evan spoke.
"nicolas," he replied in response to his roommate's question. nic kept his gaze furtive and fleeting (he didn't really like eye contact with people, either - he didn't like looking into someone's eyes, because it felt intrusive - especially with someone he didn't really know) and instead focused on running his eyes over the books in the room again. "nicolas grahame, though i suppose you can call me nic if you want." he cleared his throat and stuffed the papers back into his pocket, wandering over to the space that evan had deemed as 'his'.
it was bland, naturally, because it had been uninhabited up until this point. nicolas ran his fingers over the slightly-dusty desktop, mentally categorizing where he would put everything once he got it. laptop there, favorite books on the shelf above the desk - for easy access - while the other books he collected over the years would be sorted appropriately in boxes below his bed. the bed set that the school had given him - default white with two pillows - would suffice for now. he wasn't picky when it came to interior design. do i want paintings? he thought absently as he inspected the blank wall by his bed - and it was just as he finished that thought with a definitive yes that he realized evan was speaking to him.
"books are good," nicolas replied, and he instantly felt awkward. what a clever quip, nicolas grahame, he thought dryly. whatever will they do with you and your social tact? clearing his throat again, he slicked his tongue across his teeth - and made a surprised noise when he realized that his canines were pointed. definitively so. glancing over at evan, he gave an awkward sound of apology. "teeth are sharp," he muttered in explanation, wondering what other surprises the afterlife had in store for him. would he be preying on innocent girls and children during the nighttime now?
when he'd finished looking over his space, he did as evan requested, wandering into the kitchen. the idea of food made his stomach roll even still; he wondered if it was because his mouth still felt full of soot and sticky, like it was coating him inside and out - or if it was, perhaps, the fact that he had recently died that was accountable for his loss of appetite. either way, he moved around the kitchen and opened cupboards quietly and attentively, reminding himself where everything would be, and when he finished, he carefully selected a glass and looked back at evan in questioning, as if to say, can i use this?
"it's different than i thought it would be," nic said at length, coughing a little into his elbow and filling the glass with water. "you sort of have expectations - fire and brimstone, or angelic choruses, and this sounds like the place they sent my nana when she went bonkers." the words just came right out, as if it were no big deal, and nicolas had to turn back toward the sink to hide his embarrassment and surprise. he didn't normally just tell people things for the sake of telling them, but despite the awkwardness of the situation, things felt a little more comfortable around evan. almost like they had around his brother.
"so, ah -" nicolas struggled to think of small talk that wouldn't potentially scare his roommate away. "do you - i mean, how did you -?" he paused to clear his throat again and pressed his lips in a thin line, taking a swig of the water. it didn't really help. "i mean, did you get shanked in prison or something? i just want to know if i'm sharing a room with a criminal, that's it." the darkness gets bigger #evan. 589. outfit.. woop awkward nic. © zoe. |
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Post by Evan Gabriel Fletcher on Jun 3, 2013 20:33:49 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] hey baby won’t you look my way, I can be your new addiction Words: 895 Outfit: here Notes DOn't ask why I wrote so much, I seriously don't know. This post gives me so much Evan muse, it's ridiculous.
"Nicolas. Nicolas Grahame, though I suppose you can call me Nic if you want," Evan nodded, and absentmindedly picked up books and put them back onto the shelves in the corner. "Hey, this is sort of odd, but can I call you Nico? I mean, just putting that out there. Ack!" Evan caught a book that had fallen off the shelf. "Sorry about all these books. I mean to donate them to the library or something, but I've just never gotten around to it. Maybe I'll feel like doing it now that I have a roommate around and I can't just leave stuff everywhere." Evan scratched the back of his head. He really ought to get rid of these books. Or at least use them as table legs or something. Just so there weren't five stacks of assorted books around the flat. "Books are good," Nico [Evan already decided he was going to call him Nico] said as he inspected his untouched living area. "Indeed they are. But endings. I don't like endings."
Endings were never fun for Evan. He had moved towns quite a bit when he was younger, so he was used to it. But it didn't make it less painful or sad. It just meant that he had to keep himself from getting attached to everyone. And his dislike of endings didn't just apply to real life - he didn't like it when books ended either. He felt like a part of him was just missing now. Like the characters were good friends and they had just moved away or something. Did anyone ever bother to wonder what happened to characters when the book ended? Did they really live happily ever after, or did they get a divorce? Did they have children? How do they eventually die? Too many questions on his mind, and no one could ever answer them. Except for maybe the author. But even then, the author probably didn't even think that far into the future.
Nicolas made a surprised noise, and Evan looked over at him with confusion. "Teeth are sharp," Nic said, and Evan grinned. "Are you a vampire? Hey I can be transparent," he said as he did so, "Perks of being a ghost. Don't worry though. You get used to your powers eventually. When I first came here, I kept randomly turning invisible which could get slightly awkward. But now I'm all good." He rather liked his power. It was good for surprising people or pranking people… Plus he still looked normal. He could just do paranormal things. Evan rather liked it. And when he went invisible, he felt lighter. Sometimes when Evan felt stressed, he'd literally disappear and then come back totally relaxed.
Evan started to wonder if Nic would join him; then again, he might just be getting used to his surroundings. Evan was about to check up on him, when Nic came in. Evan watched as he opened each cabinet and looked inside. Evan would help, but he felt it was better for him to just learn where things were. Besides, he'd be used to the kitchen in no time. Nic picked out a glass and held it up as if to say, "Can I use this?" Evan nodded. He was his roommate now, he shouldn't have to ask. After a moment or two, Nic spoke, "It's different than I thought it would be." Though he had his back turned to Evan, Evan nodded anyway. "Yeah. It's much more… Peaceful." But honestly, Evan wasn't sure what to expect. He wasn't very religious, so things like heaven and hell didn't really cross his mind much. "You sort of have expectations - fire and brimstone, or angelic choruses, and this sounds like the place they sent my nana when she went bonkers," Nic commented. Evan didn't reply to that one, simply because he just didn't know what to say to it.
In situations like this, Evan didn't know whether to initiate conversation, or just let the other person talk as much or as little as they wanted to. Evan could hold up a conversation, but he wasn't sure if his roommate particularly wanted to. However, Nic contradicted Evan's thoughts and tried to start up a conversation, "So, ah -" Nic began, then took a sip of water, "Do you - I mean how did you - ?" Evan grinned over at Nic. He didn't mind the question one bit. Not really, anyway. "Die?" Evan finished for him. "I mean, did you get shanked in prison or something? I just want to know if I'm sharing a room with a criminal, that's it." Evan couldn't help it, he laughed. Him? A criminal? barely. He couldn't even picture himself as a criminal. "Ahhh, Nico! Do I really look like a criminal to you?" Ev joked and then he let out a low whistle, "Getting shanked in a prison? Now that's a way to go. Nah, I was hit by a truck when I was biking." Evan glanced up at Nic, unsure if he should ask about his death, but he decided he may as well. "How did you go?"
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