Practice [open]

[Sean Collin]

Running the pick against a single cord, Sean forced a vibrant note to reverberate throughout the seemingly still air. This was his practice time and a time that he would not enjoy interruptions, in fact, they would be most likely met with his patented death glare. With one leg crossed over the other; he rested the guitar upon one of the legs and strummed the instrument as a pleasant sound came from it.

This usually went on for around half an hour until he found that his progress was sufficient enough for the day, then he would try to work on fine tuning his mental barriers against the onslaught of emotions. That could be summed up as the reason that he preferred to avoid people, especially touching them if he could. That alone gave a minor backlash, sending their emotions through him like a wave.

His tongue play over his lip lightly as he tested a string of notes, trying to place them in a way that would sound alright to his critical ear. He could taste the slight tinge of iron from the piercing. “I guess this could work.” Sean muttered to himself letting the guitar now resting on his lap as he simply rubbed his chin, thinking of something before stroking one more note on the instrument.

After turning his mind from the pursuit of perfecting his music, that was when he began to feel the indistinct but potent emotions tugging at the edge of his mind. Some were almost undetectable while others more obvious. Either way he hated all of it, but it had its uses he supposed.

[Romeo Buckland]

“And I’m out of here!” exclaimed the Irish teen as his mop reached the northeast corner of one of the school gymnasium’s basketball courts. He took a deep breath as he used his arm to wipe the sweat off his forehead, taking a quick glance at the said basketball court floor. Spotless, as per usual. And it’s just 4:30pm even, plenty of time to head downtown to grab a dozen donuts before heading down Fer’s room for whatever movie they’re supposed to watch tonight. (Legally Blonde was it? Or did the Brazilian finally agree to watch Insidious with him?). God he really was getting good with the whole cleaning thing.

You see, for the past half year or so, Romeo’s been doing community service around school so if he still hadn’t gotten around making sure the court’s shiny and spotless, and finding a way to do so efficiently, well, he’s not doing something right. He’s also been cleaning the pool after swim team practice, making sure every gym equipment was returned at the end of the day, that all training rooms have working alarms, the usual. It’s his little ‘punishment’ for the number of infractions he’s been caught, since suspension just won’t work (boarding school and all) and there really was no expulsion policy in Hammel. It was tiring and rather cumbersome, yes, but he’s learned to simply live with it. (And thus his repeated violations never waned in frequency).

After putting all his cleaning implements in the handy-dandy janitor’s cart and putting his earphones on, he began his not-so-short trek up back to the main janitor’s closet. It took a while to start things up, as the cart he’s been issued had a rather faulty (read: rusty) front right wheel. (He told Mr. Cohen about it a number of times, he told him to simply let it be).

He was almost halfway through the covered pathway that connects the gymnasium to the main school buildings when the wheel acted up again, and Romeo not wanting to spend any more time dragging the big cart across school, simply forced the cart along the hump. Instead of going forward after three pushes however, the cart flipped to the side, all the cleaning implements falling all over and rolling around. “Oh fuck me now,” grumbled the teen as he started collecting the said bottles and rags, “Dude with the guitar over there, can you pass me the two blue bottles to your right?”

[Sean Collin]

The closest and most intense emotion that came across the proverbial net was one of annoyance, a very common one for him to sense really and that lead his attention to what appeared to be a male having trouble with a cart. He had managed to scatter cleaning supplies all over the place and that was what he assumed caused this minor sense of annoyance clawing at the back of his mind. Sean arched an eyebrow as he considered helping the guy, or he could just sit there and let him clean up his own mess. That was until the guy decided to ask Sean for some help with his dilemma, even if the help seemed minor.

“Sure.” Was the only thing Sean said and it came out in a mutter as he reached for the two aforementioned bottles, holding both in his right hand. He was sure that he had seen this person before, heard his name somewhere but he just couldn't quite place what it was at the moment. One thing that was certain was that he couldn't be a janitor; well he could but Sean didn't really consider that option at the moment. It was possible that he was either volunteering or maybe he was just a trouble maker. In the end who he was just didn't really matter to Sean, he had no real intentions to know more about him.

“Well here you go.” he said with as few words as he could, handing the two blue bottles back to the male, holding them in a way that would avoid any sort of skin contact when he passed them off. That would have only lead to him having to experience more of his emotions, they would be sharper too and that never really ended well when he thought of it. Emotions were a messy thing, something that he just tried to avoid altogether.

[Romeo Buckland]

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Despite his immense annoyance at the disaster that just unfolded (because really, had Mr. Cohen listened to his pleas week before this would never had happened), Romeo still managed to catch a glimpse of the subtle arched eyebrow the boy gave him as he looked in his direction (and before he asked for help). Shouldn’t the inherent response at these type of situations be immediate help and not annoyance at the uncontrolled disaster? (At least that’s what he thought when he’s on the short end of the stick; heaven knows if he was on the opposite side, he’d let out a laugh even). “Jerk,” he muttered while rolling his eyes, careful to say the insult as soft as he can should the blue-eyed boy hear it and suddenly decide not to comply with his small request. (Sure the bottles weren’t really that far off, but still, a step saved is a lot for this tired Irish teen).

“Cool guitar,” he said offhandedly as he put the cart back upright and grabbed the other items that fell on the other side, “Looks expensive too.” He’s not exactly one to talk, given that he’s no guitar player himself, but he believes that he had an eye for such things. “Playing outside at this weather though? I mean, I’d understand if it’s sunny and all, but the weather’s rather gloomy. So much for inspiration.” He let a small chuckle leave him as he pointed to the dark sky, refolding the rags and putting them in the proper pockets.

Romeo’s not exactly one for small talk, but he’d been talking to himself for the past hour or so and this was a refreshing change. Besides, the boy didn’t look like a dork (it’d be hard to be one with those amazing blue eyes) so it wouldn’t hurt right?

“Thanks bro,” grinned the Irish teen as he reached out for the bottles. He didn’t know why, but instead of grabbing the end closest to him – the one without the boy’s hands – he went for the one near the neck of the bottle, his fingers accidentally touching the raven-haired’s own.

Oops?

[Sean Collin]

“Thanks.” He said in response to the offhanded comment about his guitar, trying to keep himself from smirking. If anything were to stroke his ego, it was someone complimenting his guitar; there was also someone agreeing to actually listen to his play the instrument. It was also that the guy was not that bad looking, he had a certain attractiveness about him that was sure to attract some and if Sean weren't the one to keep people at a distance, that would have applied to him. “It was....very expensive.” He added running a single finger over one of the thick metallic cords, letting out a low note.

“I don't know, it looks like the perfect weather for inspiration, if you ask me.” Sean found it easier to brainstorm when it wasn't all bright and sunny, when the skies looked like they would release a torrent of rain at any second. Now that he thought of it, was there supposed to be a chance of rain today? Not that it would matter to him. Sean would find somewhere sheltered from the rain and continue the inspirational process with the sound of rain falling. That was as sound that got the mind working; also it tended to make him feel a certain deep tiredness.

“No problem.” He said in response to the Irish male, unable to really keep himself from smirking back. In the process of handing the bottle back he felt something, a sensation that sent a pang of dread through his chest and caused his breath to catch. It was a brief moment of contact but enough to reap the full consequences. In an instant he was feeling the emotions rushing through his body, overriding what he felt now and replacing it with what was now the Irish teens current emotions. While they weren't as intense as anger or sadness, they were enough of a shock to prompt a response.

Sean unconsciously bit down on his lower lip, pulling the hand back as if it had been burnt. It was likely that the male would probably give him a strange look, no, he was expecting such a reaction but that was just how it was with his....power.