A snake in the grass (Erik)

[Alexander Rothwell]

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. 

Skipping stones had always calmed and focused Alex, from as far back as he remembered. Whether it was at the small pond at the front of his childhood boarding home or in the later places he grew up in, it was always a pastime he had held close. On top of that, he was pretty damn good at it. A smile crept onto the teen's face as he skipped four in a row, a new personal best since he had come to Vermont.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

It was a nice day out, for fall, birds still sang in the yellowing trees and a cool breeze carried itself through the area, sending small shiver's down his back. There wasn't really much to do actually, the only thing worth while to plan for in the upcoming week was a Halloween dance. He was proud to say that his friends had already hooked him up with a guy to go with, the problem was that he had no idea who he was, and would meet him at the dance. Sure, that was something to be anxious over, but that was not why he was out here. His new shoes were. 

Most normal kids needed around a few hours to break in a new pair of converse, for Alex, it took a little longer. Memories of factories and long journeys gently tugged at the corners of his mind, and with ease he brushed them away. It was something he had to do every time he got something new, break out the small amount of memories sooner, so he wouldn't have to deal with them later. Worn in clothes were nice, but they were not in the least stylish, and that was his problem. He didn't want to be caught dead wearing the same shoes for twelve years, popping some migraine pills and taking a trip to the pond had been in order. 

[Erik Stewart]

Erik was some distance away from him; maybe just a few feet. Sharing the pond wasn’t new. There were so many students here, he was pretty much guaranteed to have to spend some time within eyeshot or earshot of someone he didn’t know or didn’t care about. This was a boon for more of the social students, but for Erik, who was adverse to company, and whose only long-standing relationships within the last three years had been sexual ones, could not be more irritated at the fact. He had with him his rat snake Dead John. He coiled at his feet, tasting the air with his tongue.

Erik was watching Alex. He decided he didn’t like the look about him. He reminded him of Tomer, who in turn reminded him of good character, honesty, and virtue, all of which left a hideously sour taste in his mouth. Erik was himself a creature of cigarette smoke and snake scales and sin; he hated watching all these fair-haired kids with their wide-open, innocent eyes, and their soft smiles, and their clean clothes. Fuck ‘em.

“Hey asshole,” he said.

His eyes were a bright blue. They were so light that the black pupils punched in the middle, dark as pitch, were all the more apparent; this gave Erik a piercing and reptilian stare. Alex would know at a glance that Erik was bad news…if he hadn’t caught on from his less-than-friendly greeting first.

He stared at him. “Nice fuckin’ shoes, Wonder Bread.”

[Alexander Rothwell]

It wasn't long before Alex felt another shiver travel down his spine, It wasn't the cold this time, he could distinctly feel a set of eyes boring at him from a short distance away. From the corner of his eye, he spotted another student, not to far away from him. Not that new, Hammel was a small place for such a wide variety of students. Some were too young to go into Vermont when they had time off, others simply enjoyed it here, and then there were the ones who were here because they didn't have a car to take them elsewhere. 

He didn't pay it much attention, who was he to antagonize some kid enjoying the pond. It would probably be narcissistic to assume that the student was staring at him. There were plenty of things past and around him to look at. Another throw of a rock toward the pond produced five loud slaps, sending ripples in every direction. A small smile appeared on the boys face, yet again, a new record. 

That was when a voice came from the person he had stolen a glance at earlier, and the words that came from him weren't all that amazing. Crude, but was it directed toward him? A shocked Alex turned toward the student, giving him a once over. Yes, that was meant for him, it was made obvious by the venomous stare shooting right his way.

"Er... excuse me?" Asked the teen, already feeling himself deflate under the icy blue eyes of the boy he now faced. 

More words, now directed toward his shoes. Wonder bread? He thought incredulously, while at the same time wondering whether he should dignify the insult with a response, or just move to a further point of the pond. "Oh? You like them? Well thanks!" Alex found the words coming out of his mouth automatically, a smile already plastered over his recently frowning face. After only a few moments of hesitation the teen began to make his way over to the guy with the icy blue eyes.

"My names Alex." He offered, his body going a bit rigid under the stare. "Nice to meet you." He wasn't sure if he should offer his hand out to be shaken, but after a few more moments of silence he found himself doing so, stretching his hand toward the boy in front of him. His smile only cracked slightly when he realized he hadn't been under the scrutiny of eyes like those since he was a child. 

[Erik Stewart]

Erik took offense to the hand offered his way, or seemed to. He blinked at it and wrinkled his nose. Turning away, he huffed, “Jesus,” as if to himself.

Neither did he introduce himself nor provide Alex with a name. Instead, he pulled out a lighter and a white cigarette from his pocket; its flame emerged with a roll of his thumb. He stuck it between his lips. The silence between them was almost punishing. Erik didn’t speak or even glance at him, but Alex might get the impression that the conversation was far from over; his brows were furrowed over his dark lashes, and his shoulders were tight. He breathed smoke.

“Let me start over,” he said, raising a finger to elucidate his point.

Most of the time Erik’s steely eyes and unsmiling mouth and sarcastic snarl was enough to tip people off, no matter how ‘nice’ the words seemed to be, but there were a few special individuals that were a bit slow on the uptake. Erik almost expected that of Alex.

“I don’t give a shit ‘bout what they call you.” He looked down at the other boy’s proffered hand. “Y’can shove that up your ass, alright? Listen, someone calls you an asshole y’don’t tell ‘em it’s nice t’meet ‘em. Just makes y’look stupid.”

He pulled the cigarette from his lips. “Are you?”

[Alexander Rothwell]

A tense shiver ran down Alex's spine as guy in front of him treated his hand gesture as if he was holding a dead bird in it. He was thankful for the turning away from him thing though, anything to get those icy eyes off of him, if only for a moment. That was when a cigarette emerged from the other boys pocket. Can he even have those here? Quickly, he looked around the pond, like a little elementary school kid waiting for the playground monitor to crack down on them. It was a stupid thing, to be so uptight about it, but he couldn't help it. Detention sucked, and they didn't cater to you there like most teachers did in the classroom, well, for at least someone like him. 

A small cough escaped Alex's lips, as the smoke from the thin white stick began to drift in his direction. He had only been around smokers when he was younger, he never really liked the smell of cigarette smoke at all. But once again, the boy tensed as the guy in the grass spoke. Some movement in the grass startled the teen, a snake was next to him. Was that a pet? Who would want a line of muscle that could bite you as a pet? 

The more words he heard, the more he guessed the guy in the grass had come from the south. He had lived down there a couple of times, he did spend around six years of his life in a children's home in Texas. But no, the thickness of his words different, he hadn't been around much other southern states, being tossed around in his home state of Texas solely, before finally landing up North with his last set of fosters before Hay-lin. 

The color drained from his face once more at the second round of insults. This guy wasn't even trying to be clever, he was just trying to inflict as much damage as possible. When he asked Alex a question, the boy let out a small series of stammers before finally managing a sentence, "Stupid, n'aw. Just enjoyin' a day at the swimming hole." He joked, trying the slip into an old semblance of the way he use to speak when he was younger. A small fake smile swept across his face, maybe he would like jokes. 

[Erik Stewart]

True to his instincts, DJ was indeed a pet. But Alex had nothing to fear from him. The nearly two-foot-long rat snake might have seemed intimidating, but he was a good deal less threatening than Erik and a good deal more polite at that. Alex could have stepped on him and he still wouldn’t have bit.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t DJ he had to deal with.

Erik had seen enough people to know who was vulnerable and who wasn’t, and he’d had time to hone his radar, too. He couldn’t explain it, he just liked it; making others feel like crap was a legitimate addiction to him, same as cigarettes, and it brought out much the same rush. Some of ‘em had tears and snot running down their faces by the time he was done. Some stood there and took it like champs, stony-faced and dejected. Still others extended a hand of friendship first, only to have it spat upon – had the saddest look of betrayal afterwards. It was hard to tell which Alex was shaping up to be. It was starting to look like the kid was heading towards an unforeseen fourth option: that was, try his darndest to deny it and keep makin’ jokes until the truth sunk in.

Before Alex was even through talking, Erik butted in. “T-t-th’ fuck you ain’t,” he said, mocking the boy’s stutter; he blew a stream of smoke directly at his pretty face. “An’ what’re you talkin’ like that for?”

Erik had on him a sort of snarl, that people of a particular southern persuasion could do particularly well, with half their nose wrinkled and half their lips drawn up in a subtle, angry drawl. “You tryin’ t’fuck with me?”

[Alexander Rothwell]

Before Alex could even get his own rendition of his old Texan accent out, the boy in front of him was already at it again. Alex only hesitated before finishing his little accented swimming hole joke, he probably shouldn't have done that, the snarl that had slithered on the face of the boy was almost as intimidating as the snake that curled at his feet. Apparently, he hadn't gotten his attempt to match his accent, that was made even more prevalent when the southern boy blew a stream of cigarette smoke directly into his face. Pretty surprised by that one, Alex had accidently gulped in a lung full of the smoke, sending him into a serious of loud coughs. The smoke itself stung at his eyes until they watered.

Before Alex had even finished coughing, the boy asked another question. Do I look like I am trying to start something? He asked himself, as another cough escaped his mouth and flew into his balled up right hand. This was getting pretty bad, and there really wasn't much else to do but either try and find some common ground, or stand there and take a beating like a good little kid. he really didn't want to do either, the later thought stung at the back of his mind.

In an attempt to regain some form of composure, Alex took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to blink away the stinging sensation the smoke had left. "Nah, I'm just here to skip stones and relax. I really don't want any trouble." The teen felt his skin crawling, and just couldn't stand being near the kid anymore. In an attempt to diffuse the situation, he gave him a small smile and a nod, and awkwardly retreated away from the southern boy and down closer toward the pond. If there was going to be conflict, the best thing to try was to turn tail and run. Alex firmly sat himself at the edge of the pond, not as far away from the guy as he would like, but far enough. Calm down Alex.

[Erik Stewart]

Erik received some satisfaction from the way he coughed and sputtered in the face of that smoke, but that was few and far between. Alex just wasn’t biting. If anything, he was flawlessly performing the ‘let it slide’ routine, which was Erik’s least favorite strategy employed against him, because it just wasn’t fulfilling. He’d have almost expected it from Alex, though. The kid looked soft and sweet as cotton candy, and he supposed it’d be too much to ask for him to fight back.

And he wasn’t about to go follow him. Erik was in enough shit as it was.

Instead, he only grunted when Alex got up, claiming he didn’t want any trouble, and moved to the other side of the pond. Erik spent some time glaring at him afterwards, still, as if considering…but he did not pursue.

(sorry I couldn’t rly think of a way to continue u-u;; so I guess that’s it? :3)