Red Handed;;; Open!

[Fletcher Walsh]

You expect, you presume
I expose you the truth
Can't you see that it's not what it seems

~Every Avenue

When Fletcher woke up from his nap in the grass, he was groggy and felt worse than he had when he'd fallen asleep. Though he was still excused from regular classes, he'd been spending a great deal of time and energy in training sessions, trying to master the basics of control over his power so the blockage could be removed.

All of this was hindered by his reluctance to even think about his power, let alone try to join with it and control it. He'd worked so hard for the control he had over his emotions, to see it blown to shreds like this was devastating for him, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

So lost in thought, and half asleep, Fletcher struggled to his feet and made his way back to the dorms. He'd lie down for a nap -his head hurt a bit from this morning's practice session- and get up in time for dinner and then one more practice. He just had to do enough so that he could lock this damned power away tight and never have to use it again. The sooner, the better.

His sense of direction was poor at the best of times, and thinking of nothing more than more sleep, Fletcher wandered his sleepy way up the stairs and into the girls' dormitories. Still unthinking, he stopped outside the door that should have been his, had he been in the right building, and tried to turn the handle to let himself into the room.

[Charlotte Avery]

"Not surprises. I hate surprises."
-

Charlotte had not expected the evening's TV programs to be so intense. At least, she thought they were intense. The news was all extremely dismal, with reports of natural disasters and a meta-human being verbally bullied by some people before joining the school in Belgium. Stories like that made Charlotte smile in the fact that she had a safe haven there at Hammel, and that no matter what, she would not be judged. Granted, from time to time it got lonely, but each day held wonders and surprises she couldn't have even imagined.

The girl brushed her bright red hair with the comb lightly, as it was finally dry from the shower she had taken earlier. Her roommates were out that evening- she guessed they had more exciting things to do than stand around with someone like her. Despite having been together for a while, Charlotte really didn't know a whole lot about them. She almost wanted to talk to them- yet her shy personality kept her from doing so. As the girl mused about her mixed emotions, the sound of steps outside made her blink once or twice. Usually the girls were all doing something this time of day. I really should draw...or...something.

The girl grabbed her sketchbook from the side table next to her bed, and turned down the sound on the tv. She began to swish the pencil across the page, creating some kind of strange figure. She sighed, and went to take another stroke, when the door opened. Charlotte's eyes widened, and she dropped the pencil onto the sketchpad. Her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. It was a boy.

A boy was standing in the doorway.

She froze where she sat, and raised a shaking hand. She pointed out at the boy, unable to do anything else. Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god it.is.a.boy. Charlotte's green eyes were large as dinner plates as she sat as if frozen in time on her bed. She had no idea what to do. Was he an attacker, or a pervert of some sort? Was he lost? Don't...move...maybe he w-won't see me if I don't move!

ooc: sorry, I wasn't sure if it was okay for me to post here...I'll delete if I need to!

[Fletcher Walsh]

Still thinking nothing was amiss, too dazed to really notice that he wasn't in the right building at all, Fletcher opened the door and shuffled into the room, all his thoughts on bed.

It was mere chance that he glanced up from the floor in time to see someone sitting on the couch, staring and pointing at him with wide eyes and a wide open mouth. He stopped, and simply stared back at her for a long moment while his sleepy brain tried to catch up with him. He was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him, and he knew his roommate -though he hadn't yet met the boy- was a boy.

"Uh..."

He tried to speak but nothing came out, and he shoved his hands into his pockets defensively. Gone was the boy who would have charmed or threatened his way out of this situation, and in its place was nothing more than someone who was increasingly uncomfortable in his own skin and in the presence of other people. Thanks to the blocker, he knew nothing of the way she was feeling other than what he could guess from her face.

He glanced around, mind finally catching up, and the realization dawned on him that it wasn't her who'd found her way into his room, but entirely the opposite.

"Oh, shit. I uh..."

He had the grace to blush, and stepped backwards towards the door.

"I'm really knew... thought this was my dorm."

How had he made such a huge mistake? Biting back a groan, Fletcher rubbed a hand over his face and resisted the impulse to chew anxiously at a fingernail. He'd been so tired, and so focused on the relative safe haven of his bed that he had simply not paid attention to where he was going.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude.."

[[ooc: it's fine! =D]]

[Charlotte Avery]

Charlotte had encountered plenty of people in her lifetime, who didn't? However it was a rare, rare prank of life that she was alone with a boy. The last time that had happened, it had been when everyone at the birthday party went outside, and the boy came back in to get his shoes. When Charlotte thought about it, she found it incredibly odd. ...Why am I thinking about this now? She asked as the boy shuffled more inside and seemed content with his place. When they made eye contact, a bit of sweat rolled down her temple. They just stared at each other motionlessly for about 30 seconds before he finally made a noise.

"Uh..."
Charlotte swallowed. M-My sentiments...exactly. The unknown boy put his hands into his pockets, and seemed very confused. Okay, so he wasn't a wannabe rapist, pervert or anything else. At least that was out of the way, she supposed. His eyes went over the room, and it seemed he suddenly came to terms with just where he was. Oh, shit. I uh...I'm really new... thought this was my dorm." His face was red, and he stepped back towards the door, ready to get out.

Charlotte slowly slipped her foot off of her bed, all while keeping eye contact with the boy. He was blushing and looking flustered, and for some reason it didn't seem to fit him. He must be very tired.... He seemed like a person that knew what he was doing most of the time. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude.." He said with obvious embarrassment in his voice. Charlotte looked around nervously, having no idea what to say.

"I-It's...um...I mean er..." She fumbled around with her words, and put her foot back onto the bed. "Why are y-you...let's um...I..." Charlotte got frustrated with herself and held onto her own arms. "I-It's an accident...it's okay..." She broke eye contact and looked down at herself, a bit afraid. He will probably leave now...that's what's best, right? But, I kind of... She shook those thoughts away, and looked back up to the unknown boy.

[Fletcher Walsh]

This one's going down in the history of worst first impressions ever, I'm sure of it.

He was only mildly comforted by the fact that she was apparently as lost for words as he was. He stuffed his hand back into his pocket and shifted from foot to foot, increasingly uncomfortable, and really he should have just turned and left, but that seemed rude.

"Thanks."

At least she wasn't angry, or calling the authorities to haul him out of here in disgrace, or arrest him for violating her privacy. The thoughts ran rampant and unbidden in his head and he couldn't help but notice the irony that he of all people was worried about what those in positions of power had to say.

"I didn't mean to, got lost I guess."

His voice was an odd mix of city slicker, guileless farm hand, and total exhaustion. He had lived in Chicago long enough for that accent to have begun overtaking the Montana one of his early childhood.

"I was trying to find my own bed, not yours, swear it."

He'd never challenged girls much, even in his most vicious of days. He'd taunted and teased them and flirted stupidly with them but he'd never taken them on as targets for his mistreatment like he had with other boys. So it came easier to him to be almost pleasant to her than anyone else he'd met so far. Besides, she was already all but cowering, and where'd be the fun in that?

Old habits died hard, and it was a blend of fear and regret that stopped those thoughts in their tracks. God, would he always be like this now?

"I'm new here. I must've gotten turned around on the way back to the boys' dorms. And, uh, I guess since I barged in here, the least I can do is introduce myself. My name's Fletcher."

He still wanted sleep, though. So desperately. His mind felt like it had been filled with cotton, and his shoulders sagged, lacking the energy to even be held up straight.

[Charlotte Avery]

Should I start conversation or something? Oh what am I thinking?! He just barged in here...I should kick him out...or something. Charlotte's thoughts reeled as she watched him think of something to say in response. No, Charlotte, you're not like that. He just messed up, maybe you should help him. He looks a little confused. As the girl put he sketchbook on the end of the bed, out of the way, he started speaking in his interesting voice again. "I didn't mean to, got lost I guess. I was trying to find my own bed, not yours, swear it." Charlotte almost fell over at that last sentence, and her face turned red again.

"I'm new here. I must've gotten turned around on the way back to the boys' dorms. And, uh, I guess since I barged in here, the least I can do is introduce myself. My name's Fletcher." Charlotte's green eyes moved back over to him, and she tilted her head to the side in examination. She forgot, momentarily, about her fear of him, and put his image into her mind. He was was handsome, and what other girls would call "hot", however Charlotte got a mental picture of him on fire, so that statement was out. Deep-set eyes and an expression that hid something behind it. She knew that face all too well. Fletcher: barges into rooms.

"I-It's okay, it's okay...I'm uh, Charlotte Avery..." It had been awhile since she had to introduce herself to someone else. She opened her mouth to speak again, but noticed that he swayed on his feet. Her instinct was to go over and help him, but she got off the bed and did nothing more. You haven't concentrated enough to touch him yet, Charlotte. And you also don't want to. She shook her bright red hair and offered a nervous smile, though it looked more creepy than anything. The girl quickly made a decision on what to do- help him back to his dorm, or perhaps...

"Y-You can stay here if you're tired!" She blurted out without even thinking. The girl's face was pure terror in what she had just said, but only for a moment. She composed herself and grabbed the things off of her bed. "It's late s-so you should...get some rest...I mean...yeah."

[Fletcher Walsh]

Mostly, he felt relief that he was able to have a conversation with this girl without knowing what she was feeling. Fuck what they tried to tell him, he wanted nothing to do with life sans power blocker. Who cared if he never learned to use his ability, useless in his eyes to begin with. He'd never asked for this! He didn't want to be a meta-human, any more than he wanted any of the other changes in his life. Hell, send him back to Montana, even life with his father was better than this.

Ah, but it was too late for that. Fletcher sighed, and then blinked at the girl -Charlotte- when she offered him her bed.

"Uh, no."

Still his mind was having trouble catching up with what was happening, and though he'd never been much on manners, he knew that had been too rude.

"I mean, no thanks. I... I appreciate it, but it's too much..."

By the look on her face, she hadn't really considered what she was saying until after it had left her mouth anyways. Besides, he couldn't sleep with a girl... and he didn't want to steal her bed from her. Ugh. Why was being around people in a civil manner so difficult and strange?

Still, he didn't know if he could find his way back to his own dorm without help, or at least sitting down for a minute, so despite his misgivings, Fletcher sat on the bottom corner of Charlotte's bed.

"Just point me in the right direction, in a minute."