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Post by brett on Aug 24, 2011 10:07:35 GMT -5
Brett squinted his eyes and pulled himself to a seated position in his bed. Saturday mornings were so often met with hangovers in his case. It wasn't like he didn't expect them, but he wished he could do without them. His head was pounding, and the light pouring into the dorm from the windows wasn't helping things. What time was it? He glanced at his phone that was still in the pocket of the jeans that he'd apparently slept in. Two in the afternoon. Perfect. He couldn't even remember last night, but since there wasn't anyone laying next to him, he was probably in the clear. It looked like he'd just collapsed on his bed when he'd arrived back at the dorm last night, not even taking off his spiked bracelets. It really must have been some party last night. Either that or he just had to drink to keep himself entertained. He hated not remembering. He didn't have a great memory to begin with, but being blackout drunk was the alcoholic equivalent of amnesia. There wasn't even a point in trying to remember, and that was a shame. It meant that he could have done something incredible last night, and would only get to hear about it from others who saw it. He'd never know what it was like to do whatever it was that he'd done.
There were times that Brett regretted the effects of the life that he led. This was one of them, but the pro's usually outweighed the con's, so there wasn't a point to stopping. He pulled himself out of bed, revealing that he hadn't even taken off his shoes - probably due to lack of coordination, he didn't know, and decided it was best to try not to care. He glanced over the room, making sure he was alone. He hated for people to see him weak. Especially thunder kids. They may have been his allies, but they also lacked a sense of unity, which meant that some may have been more than happy to take Brett down, be it physically, mentally, or socially. In his current state, he doubted he'd be able to defend himself. He dragged himself to the bathroom, and splashed some water on his face before stripping down and hopping in the shower. Usually quick alternations of hot and cold water was enough to at least make his head hurt a little less. Sometimes it cured him all together, but it would probably take a lot more to get rid of this one. What he really needed was orange juice or something. Something to rehydrate. But it wasn't like the mess hall would still be serving breakfast, so he was shit out of luck this time. At least it was Saturday. At least there wasn't all too much to do today. As long as he could avoid loud sounds, and bright lights, he'd be fine.
After pretty much scalding and freezing himself with the shower's water, he dried off, put his jeans back on, and plugged in a hair dryer. This was a mistake that he somehow felt couldn't be avoided. The trouble was that he looked like a strung out heroin addict when he let his hair air dry. It became tangled and seemed to almost double in volume. Even if he didn't plan on going out today, he still had to look good. His life was so random and unexpected, that he never knew who he'd run into, and the last thing he wanted to do was meet anyone while hungover and hideous. That was a bad impression that he refused to make. Brett wanted everyone to see him attractive all the time, no matter what that cost may be. Bracing himself and cringing, he flicked the switch of the dryer onto high. He had to admit, he definitely brought his headache down a bit in the shower, but the hairdryer still made it feel like he'd just put his head under the tire of a moving truck. This was not his day. When he was done, glanced at himself in the mirror for a moment. God, he was vain, but he wished he had more chances to go around shirtless. He loved his torso. Lean muscle was the best kind in his eyes, and Brett had a lot of it. He wasn't overly built, but he wasn't lanky either. In his eyes, he was the boy closest to perfection. Then began a slow return to the dorm room with his socks, shoes, and shirt in hand. He had to figure out what to do today, because even with a debilitating headache, he could never sit still.
Tagged:: Samson
Outfit:: Click
Count:: 780
Notes:: Brett's vanity will always win out over his wanting to avoid pain >.<
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Post by samson on Aug 24, 2011 16:07:20 GMT -5
 Samson liked to think he was a smart guy. He got good marks and he was pretty good with his element, and god knows he tried as hard as he could. But that didn’t mean he didn’t leave time to actually be a teenager. Sure, he had all appearances of being a stoic asshole, but when you really learned about him you discovered that just wasn’t true. He could be friendly if he liked you, but even then he could be a jerk.
Proof that he wasn’t such a terrible guy was that he didn’t mind Water student pranks. He knew a lot of his allies couldn’t say the same, but he reeally didn’t think they were so terrible. He was undergoing under his outward appearances, never overreacting about anything. Besides, he had a strange fondness for Water students even though they were his enemies. His mother had been Water and so was Beatrice, and she couldn’t find it in him to hate the group like the Fires did.
So when he returned to his dorms soaking wet, there was no way to tell by looking at him that he was in anyway upset by this. In his head, he actually thought it hysterical that the Water students didn’t even need balloons for their pranks like these. Unfortunately for them, he was Thunder and the zap they got was much more unpleasant than the soaking he did. He was pretty strong for his grade because he praciticed so much—yes, on Water students too—and he would have considered spot as a leader if he wasn’t mute. It was hard to take charge while texting on your phone what you wanted to say. Even though he never thought of it as a disability, that’s what it truly was. It prevented many things for ihm, many things to communicate with.
At least Harley likes me. The thought brought a smile to his face as he walked into his dorms. Apparently, his muteness didn’t matter to her. Because she liked him. The thought thrilled him every time he entered his mind, not once thinking of how disappointed he would be if he was let down once again. He didn’t want to believe Harley would be like all the others, because Samson even felt different with her. He couldn’t believe that she was hiding a back-stabbing bitch underneath all that pretty wit of hers. She betrayed you for Dale. But that would be forgiven with time. Yes, Samson was a Thunder by nature and easily hold grudges, but the chip on his shoulder was not for Harley—it was for Dale. He was the one who sided with the Earth chick accused of murder and the one that Harley sided with. Over him. Okay, it still hurt but he loved her too much to let that get in the way.
He noticed Brett entered the room and lifted his head slightly in greeting as he rung out his shirt, the water falling to the floor. Taking another shirt out from his nightstand, he quickly pulled it on before taking out his phone to text a message. If Brett was a stranger, he wouldn’t have gotten this courtesy from the mute boy, but he really was nice to the people he liked. He showed the phone, which read, ”You sleep in today or something?” He didn’t really fall into pleasantries and greetings, since ‘hello’ would be worthless to type out for a greeting he would expect in return. Especially when a person was a friend—those greetings could be easily passed over.
[oh brett. <333]
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Post by brett on Aug 24, 2011 20:40:41 GMT -5
Brett always told himself that he was one of the luckiest people alive, because in truth great things happened to him a lot of the time. It was because he actually worked for the things he wanted all the time. He was the kind of person who got exactly what he wanted when he wanted it. But there always seemed to be a negative repercussion to whatever it was that he did. Be it a broken bone, or a black eye, cuts, bruises, hang overs, lack of money, torn clothes, or god forbid bad hair. There were various other things that could have gone wrong, he'd only scratched the surface with that list of various problems that had faced him in the past. There was always something bad to follow something good. There would always be that black cloud to accent the sliver lining. But he was always somehow optimistic. The negatives to him were worth the positives that usually preceded them. As long as he had a fun story to tell, it wouldn't matter, but he didn't have last night's story. He'd probably hear it from someone eventually, but it wasn't worth it. Really, he had lost out on this endeavor. Really, this thought was just repeating over and over in his head. Different words, same concept. Slowly repeating, as his head continued to throb. It felt like the pain was seeping into his head little by little. It was a headache that only chemicals could create, and something that he wished could be destroyed by the same means. Maybe he needed to get another drink. He'd heard that Bloody Mary's were the go to drink for hangover cures. He just needed to find a bar that would serve the drink, and serve him, with his pained demeanor and his fake ID. That was easier said than done. A lot of people couldn't drink when hung over, but Brett was pretty much able to consume anything at any time if he tried hard enough.
As he stepped back into the dorms, a cursory glance of the room told him that someone else was here, and he prepared for the worst. Luckily, it was probably the best kid to interact with when sound would hurt. God, he was so vain that he considered Samson's disability a personal advantage, but it wasn't like he would ever treat the kid differently because he lacked the ability to speak. He at least assumed that everyone should be treated the same, regardless of handicap. Then again, he didn't treat anyone the way he treated himself. He believed that he was to be treated the best, and everyone else was below him. Someone had once quoted something from somewhere to him that said that everyone should be equal, but some people were more equal than others. That couldn't have been more true in Brett's case. He smiled at the boy and nodded a greeting before putting a shirt back on. He doubted Samson minded his shirtless all too much, and he wasn't embarrassed about his body, but it just seemed mannerly to not stay half naked in the dorms. It wasn't like he was trying to impress any of the thunder boys, after all. Even Brett knew better than to shit where he ate.
When the boy showed him a message, which took a second longer to read than he would have liked due to brightness, he grinned and gave a slight nod. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," he said with a laugh. It wasn't so much sleep as a mini-coma. It was more like he passed out for an unknown amount of hours. Hell, for all he knew he could have gotten here two hours ago and just woken up. It wouldn't have been much of a surprise, and there was really no way of knowing for sure. "It was a long night partying, I think. I'm kind of fuzzy on the entire night." Brett finished that sentence and made a somewhat embarrassed face. That was as much opening up as he did to friends, summarizing what was happening in his life. Not what he felt, not what he thought, and no one would ever get that out of him, try as they might. It would take a lot of alcohol, and a lot of coercion to get him to spill his guts or show his hand, and at that point he'd probably be incoherent. He was closed off from the rest of the world, and that was just the way he liked it. "What about you? Up to anything fun today?" he asked. Maybe there'd be something interesting on tap today. Even with this kind of aching, he'd probably still end up trying to do something stupid if he got the chance.
Tagged:: Samson
Outfit:: Click
Count:: 801
Notes:: Brett seems to ramble repeated things in his head when he's in pain. Such strange nuances, this boy has. xD
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Post by samson on Aug 24, 2011 23:17:04 GMT -5
Samson smirked and shook his head. He wasn’t a heavy partier. Hell, he wasn’t even a partier. He didn’t embrace the social scene like some people did because he wasn’t social. He was a goddamn mute. Communication and socializing wasn’t his strong point. Which is why he stayed away from most forms of interaction with other people. But he didn’t judge Brett for going out and getting hammered. To each his own, after all. Brett probably had no problems with the social scene. He was a generally easy-going guy which is why Samson probably liked him—their personalities meshed well enough. And if Brett liked to have fun, that was prerogative. Sometimes Sam envied that kind of life, where he could go out barhopping with friends and having a generally good time. But he found other ways to have fun, things that may not be entertaining to others. He had many hobbies, a rather random assortment, and they kept him preoccupied most of the time.
Shaking out his hair like a dog so that the moisture flew everywhere and most likely hit brett, he lifted his head and actually smiled now. Using his phone again, he said, ”Messing with the water students. Nothing planned for later though.” Probably working or something, nothing too exciting. He’d found that people found him interesting because of his muteness (which gave him a proverbial laugh), but the only thing truly interesting about him was the fact that he lived and worked in an occult shop with his slightly off-kilter adoptive mother. Maybe some people may consider his past interesting because he was orphaned, but it wasn’t something he talked about. Not because it was difficult for him, but because he didn’t really think the most important things to be sharing with others was the past. It was time gone, after all, and even though it had an effect on present life, it was still something kept under wraps for most people. Especially a mute like Samson who really had no one to tell. Except Harley. She just made everything different, didn’t she? Samson never told her much about his personal life or any of that, but he’d definitely be willing. He wasn’t a guy with many secrets, though it may have seemed that way.
Realizing that maybe the light of his phone may be hell for Brett right now, he took out a notepad from his nightstand and used it to write. It took longer than texting, but he actually did take his friends into consideration. He wasn’t a terrible guy after all. Displaying the note, it read, ”Wanna head out to the hollow and eat or does food repulse you right now? Because we can head to a drugstore” Nothing but time could really help a hangover, but some advil would help. Of course, thinking about pancakes and eggs may not be the best idea right now, but Samson was sure hungry and as much as he thought about his friends, he also had to take himself into consideration.
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Post by brett on Aug 25, 2011 9:55:51 GMT -5
Part of Brett wouldn't have been able to live the way Samson did. He didn't know how he'd survive if he suddenly couldn't speak. Then again, had he been mute since childhood it would probably be different. Anyone could adapt, after all. Oddly enough, there was part of Brett that envied that Samson was never bothered. He got to choose exactly who it was that he would be talking to, and they felt like it was a privilege when he wrote comments to them. It meant that they were worth effort. People must have felt so important after that, and Brett wished that when he spoke to people, they would feel the same way. It was a rarity to be that unintentionally important in this day and age, but maybe he was over-thinking and romanticizing the whole thing. He had a problem with turning anything into some romantic epic. Things like Sid Vicious's heroin overdose became a story about a lost love and the inability to continue living without her. That was just how his mind worked. He also seemed to have a problem with thinking when he was sober. There wasn't much he could do to change that one except drink more, though. And that was easier said than done at the moment.
When Samson began to shake his hair dry, Brett halfheartedly held an arm over his face as if to shield it from the water, laughing all the while. "You know you could use a blowdryer, right?" he asked with a wide smile. He really didn't mind at all, it was kind of adorable and fun to see the boy using dog-like mannerisms. It wasn't something everyone did, that was for sure. He raised an eyebrow when Sam told him that he was messing with the water kids. Any other day, he would have wanted to tag along, but today he was kind of glad that he wasn't woken up for that. He doubted anyone would have been able to wake him up though. When he was drunk, he slept like death. He didn't move, didn't make sound, and didn't wake up until he'd slept off the good parts of the alcohol in his system. He wouldn't have been surprised if he'd woken up in a morgue one of these days. "Sorry I missed that. God, I haven't gotten to harass those kids in so long," he stated nostalgically, sitting back on his bed and beginning to put his shoes back on. He really didn't care that they were yesterday's clothes. No one would notice. There weren't any blood stains on them this time. That was always kind of a good sign.
"Thanks so much." Brett spoke with a sigh of relief as Samson switched to a notepad. He really didn't expect any sort of statement that he was welcome, only because it was a waste of effort, something that Brett totally understood. He actually felt kind of bad that he had the boy communicating slower now. Not too bad, of course, but bad enough that he wished that he wasn't hungover - as if he didn't already. The thought of food both made his stomach growl, and made him gag a little. Luckily, when Sam mentioned stopping at a pharmacy, Brett almost slapped himself in the forehead. Of course he had a bottle of Excedrin lying around somewhere near his bed, why wouldn't he? He was smart enough to prepare for this every now and again. Granted, he'd probably only have two pills left, and he wanted a full bottle. Sure, that was overdose material, but the headache was killing him anyway. "Gimme a sec," he said, dropping off the bed to his knees and started feeling under the mattress for the pill bottle. He knew schools frowned on having any kind of medication not in the medical wing, so he wouldn't risk just leaving it around. He pulled the cap off and poured two pills into his hand, putting them into his mouth and dry swallowing them quickly. Sure, water made things work faster, but he didn't want to make the trek back to the bathroom, even if it was only a few steps away. He was too lazy for that. "Yeah, food would be great about now." The day was sure to look up soon. He couldn't be hung over forever, right?
Tagged:: Samson
Outfit:: Click
Count:: 728
Notes:: -
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Post by samson on Aug 25, 2011 23:59:25 GMT -5
Samson smirked about Brett’s hairdryer comment. ”Too much effort,” Samson wrote out. He actually didn’t even own a hairdryer, and his locks were usually in a state of disarray. He wasn’t one too focus too much on his appearance like Brett. But I may have to start, now that I have a girlfriend. Even though Harley liked him before, surely no girl wanted to go around with a slob of a guy. Therefore, he would need to focus a little more on his hair and the clothes he wore and all-around impressing Harley so she didn’t decide that he wasn’t worth her time. ”Took a break during the war?” If he spoke the words aloud, they would have most likely been sarcastic. Even though the Thunder kids liked to be left alone a lot and didn’t really go out of their way to mess with others, they were a vindictive bunch and the war certainly didn’t help with that. Now Thunder basically had no allies, and everything was all out of won.
He started out with notepads before he got the cellphone. Since most people didn’t know ASL and he didn’t really like using it, he had to fall back on old-fashioned types of communication. He didn’t mind it much, but he knew some people did. Even though they told him they were so interested in his muteness, they couldn’t enjoy the slow speed it took to get his point across. It was part of the reason he avoided socializing too much. So instead of writing down ‘you’re welcome’, Samson gave him a thumbs up in what was usually his signal for approving of anything. Samson waited with his hands in his pockets as Brett searched for something under his mattress, which turned out to be pills.
At Brett’s approval of food, Samson led the way off the grounds and decided that they should just walk to the hollow. Samson didn’t have a car thanks in-part to Beatrice being such a freak about everything, and besides, a walk would be nice. Brett probably needed some fresh air to feel better. Walking into Timmies, he smiled at the cashier in preperation for the usual trolling he did. At the man’s courteous greeting, Samson simply pointed at the board above his head. The cashier looked up and then back at the Thunder student curiously, and Sam kept his finger pointed at the sign, eyes wide and exasperated. ”I’m sorry, sir, what are you pointing to?” Samson rolled his eyes, and took out his pen and grabbed a napkin to write down his order. The clerk looked at him as if he may be trying to fuck with him or something, but then he turned his gaze to Brett. Samson looked over his shoulder with a smile, waiting for him to order.
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Post by brett on Aug 26, 2011 8:48:29 GMT -5
Brett smirked and shook his head. He had actually almost criticized his fellow thunder student's laziness, but quickly realized the hypocrisy of the matter. Brett had just dry swallowed pills because he didn't want to take a few steps to the bathrooms to get water, and now he was about to tell a kid that he was lazy for not wanting to dry his hair? That wouldn't have made sense at all. He may not have understood why Samson wouldn't want to spend a little more effort on things like his hair, but the kid was pretty attractive, so Brett couldn't really throw around any criticisms. "Fair enough," he stated obligingly. It wasn't like Sam's having wet hair was going to alter his life in any way. If he wanted to shake his hair out like a dog, that was his business, and Brett's really wouldn't be affected either way. It wasn't a big deal, and he probably wouldn't even remember this conversation in a few minutes. It was one of those silly little things that he could so easily forget with the passage of time.
It was funny when Sam asked if Brett had taken a break in messing with water kids during the war. "I guess you could say that." The truth was, he kind of did. He loved using the war as a false flag to incite some vicious fights, but at the same time he didn't deal with groups of people as much as he usually did, as much as he had to do again soon. Brett was fine with two or three people against him, because even if he lost, there would still be a struggle, but when there was a fifth of the student body against a single person who had no true allies, it got messy. It wasn't a game after that. It was more of being held down and beaten mercilessly. While Brett liked a fair fight, and to play around in conflicts, other people did not. If you fucked with the wrong people with the right connections, you were as good as dead, and he didn't have the guts this time around. He wasn't a coward, but the idea of being beaten to a bloody pulp without at least getting to throw a punch or two in response wasn't exactly appealing to him. He knew he had the advantage in power, but they had the advantage in numbers. He was afraid to even insult earth kids. It was just a matter of survival. He fought when he could, just not anyone who could beat him to the ground in an instant.
Fresh air was definitely a good idea today, though Brett would have offered to drive Sam if he could have managed it. In truth, he was in no shape to drive. His focus was dwindling at best, and the sound of a horn would probably render him immobile at this point. And yet they were going to a restaurant. A place where people came to eat and talk. Talk loudly, no less. He'd be able to take it, hopefully. Brett wasn't one to come to restaurants usually. He was more of the person who got by on cafeteria food or a steady diet of alcohol and cigarettes. Thank god nicotine was an appetite suppressant, or he would have been starving much more often. Once Sam had placed his order, Brett ordered a sandwich for himself. "Do you do that every time you go out to eat?" he asked lightheartedly. It was a great idea, it frustrates people, but at the same time, they couldn't really get angry at the boy, he was mute after all. It'd be discrimination or something. The kid sure knew how to make the best of the hand he was dealt.
Tagged:: Samson
Outfit:: Click
Count:: 635
Notes:: So I'm pretty sure I just love all of your characters at this point <3
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Post by samson on Aug 26, 2011 17:53:25 GMT -5
Samson wasn’t as merciless as a lot of the Thunder students, even though he did have his mean streak. He didn’t seriously injure anyone. Well, the war kind of changed that. He might have sent a few Water kids to the medical wing. Samson was a serious guy, which also meant he could be a serious fighter when he needed to be. And if one of his allies got in a fight—say, Brett—he was one to back them up. He may not have had a lot of friends, but he was loyal to his element and the people who managed to get through his stoic demeanor. And he liked to believe he was strong enough to fight. He wanted to be the best damn Thunder elemental he could (which may have been his father’s influence, but he didn’t search for Freudian excuses in his past), and so he honed his powers whenever he could. He may not have had the best grades or anything, but he didn’t slack like most kids and he tried his best. It wasn’t like he had a social life to interfere like that.
Once he got his food, wearing a little smug smirk, he sat down with Brett and started in on his donut. At Brett’s question, he snorted a bit. Yes, he did that a lot. It was his way of having some fun. Of course, he didn’t do it that much around Beatrice, else he’d get scolded about it being rude. Even though she was an eccentric demon, she still had parenting skills to brag about. She couldn’t let Sam get too out of hand, and she was probably the reason he wasn’t as bad as some of those in his alliance. Having an Earth elemental as your adoptive mother can help with that. He shrugged, then wrote down on a napkin, ”Sometimes I get management involved.” Even though he didn’t get too bad, he liked screwing around with people. People said it made him a jerk, but that was fine by him. ”But nothing too terrible. Don’t want to get kicked out or anything,” he wrote out for Brett on the napkin already growing with his scribbles. Usually when he went out to eat, he would play games like tic-tack-toe on the napkins or whatever. He knew people liked conversation, something he was unable to provide, so he made due with other forms of entertainment. On the bright side, Brett probably wasn’t much one for conversation today.
Coming up with an idea, he placed his food back down, and picked the pen back up. He really didn’t mind having to write all this out for Brett’s benefit, it just took a little more effort to actually write things out. Besides, he didn’t plan on teaching his friend sign language like he’d done for some others. It still astounded him that people were so interested in that sort of thing—it as just a part of his life that he’d grown accostumed to. He’d been very young when he lost his voice, after all, in the house fire that took his parents’ lives. Samson only had a few memories about life before muteness. ”You should try it sometime. Make people think you’re mute.” Samosn lifted his eyebrow in challenge as he wrote the last part down. There were various ways to troll people, you just had to figure them out and be creative. Hopefully he inspired Brett to grow stronger in his douchebaggery.
[STOP, YOU MAKE ME BLUSH! <33 *huggles* loves brett oh so much, but shhhh...]
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Post by brett on Aug 26, 2011 21:56:13 GMT -5
Brett would fight for a selection of his friends, but only the ones who fought for themselves first. There was no point in fighting battles in the place of others. Assistance was one thing, replacement was a lot worse. Brett probably would have refused to help most thunders if they were being helplessly beaten, but someone he knew and liked - someone he knew could fight, that was different. Better. Brett would have definitely jumped in to help Samson, or any of the other kids he'd met that he'd enjoyed fighting. In reality, the sides were a lot different in war when it came to Brett's mind. There were the people he liked, and the people he didn't. If a water kid was somehow interesting to him, and needed help, Brett would jump in, even if there were thunders involved. It was all about serving him, not some kid who led the thunder. It was better that way, more interesting. Brett's entire nature was to just do whatever the fuck he wanted and seeing how it turned out. It had worked for seventeen years, why would he stop now?
Sitting across from Samson, he waited to be clued in on the possible shenanigans of the mute. What he heard was pretty awesome. Trolling wasn't really Brett's speed, but he definitely saw the appeal. It was a lower risk activity that involved humor at other people's expense. Take out the low risk, and you had a game that Brett would have been more than willing to play. Maybe handing the staff revolvers with one bullet before harassing them. God, there were endless possibilities with that one. Brett absolutely loved the idea of involving management in situations like that. "Dude, you shoulda told me, I would have started screaming and backed you up," he said with a laugh. There was always next time for that. Outings like this would be much better if he wasn't at twenty percent of his usual energy level today. Still, he was really seeming to be improving fast. At least his personality was brightening a bit. Pain didn't matter much, as long as people liked him. "Dude, if they try to kick you out, you could like, threaten legal action or something. Free meals forever." That was far fetched and unrealistic, but it was a good idea to Brett at the time.
At that point, Sam had an even better idea than Brett's free meals scheme. Pretending to be mute would be so interesting. So fun to see how people would react. But it was a tough thing to do. Brett needed to be heard too much to just suddenly shut up, no matter how short of a time it may have been for. He also doubted he'd be a very good actor at all, so he'd probably be quick to break character and start speaking or laughing or something that would surely give him away. Still, he'd try anything once. "Okay, next stranger we come across will get the silent treatment," he replied with a devilish grin, before taking a bite of the sandwich that he'd pretty much neglected up until this point. This would certainly be an interesting experience for sure.
Tagged:: Samson
Outfit:: Click
Count:: 536
Notes:: -huggles- Thanks so much <3
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Post by samson on Aug 27, 2011 2:04:03 GMT -5
Samson snorted at Brett’s reply, thinking of how golden that would have been. It would have been the a great example of being a total jackass. ”Next time,” Samson wrote down as to guarentee Brett a spot in his trolling adventures. It was times like these when being mute came as an advantage. Most people hated the pity, but for Samson it could come as an advantage. Let people pity him all that they want, it didn’t change his view on himself. He really couldn’t care all that much about what others thought of him, except for one girl in particular whose opinion meant the world to him. He cared what she thought about everything, especially when it came to his muteness. Did she wish he could ever talk? Say romantic things instead of writing them down on paper or a cellphone? In his mind, her thoughts on those matters were the only ones he cared about. For everyone else, he used their pity as something he could play around with. If they wanted to feel sorry for him, then he’d make sure to be a jerkass to confuse them. He was just fine with the hand he’d been dealt all those years ago.
Brett told him to take legal action next time, and Sam shook his head with a slight smile adorning his features. ”I’ll keep that in mind next time I need to go People’s Court on someone’s ass.” He didn’t know if he’d take it that far, but he was laughing over the idea of it. Not literally laughing, of course. Samson’s own silent version of laughter that conveyed amusement with something. Even that form of expressing amusement wasn’t missed that much by the Thunder mute. He couldn’t remember laughing before that much, always having been a solemn child, but he knew that he probably did it around his parents a lot. Sure, he had friends, but the people he truly admired were his parents. They were the ones he would talk to the most, something he didn’t really do even before losing his voice. Now that they’d passed, he’d learned just to move past things. People died, lost their voices, is was all a part of life. If he spent too much time dwelling on it, there wouldn’t be time for the present.
Brett seemed pretty interested in the ‘prentending to be mute’ plan, which amused Samson. ”It’d be pretty easy. Just don’t laugh.” That was the truth. As long as you could keep yourself from smiling too much or being obvious about it, bluffing about a handicap would be easy to pull off. Of course, some people didn’t think muteness to be on the same level of deafness or blindness, since they impaired senses, but people still viewed it as a handicap. Therefore, you could use it to your advantage. As a matter of fact, Samson was formulating plans to actually have Brett do this. ”Any ideas of places you want to go?” he wrote down on the other side of the napkin. Customer service was going to have a fucking hard time when Brett comes along, whichever store he chose to troll.
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Post by brett on Aug 27, 2011 17:38:39 GMT -5
Brett was always more than happy to mess with others. It was a privilege to mess with their heads, and the best reward was their anger or frustration. With that in mind, Brett would have loved to accompany Samson on his quest to troll many or Canada's fine establishments. Even better, he'd look like a hero while he screamed at the staff for not being more accommodating for the mute. Sure, it was really unrealistic to have every restaurant and business prepared for people who couldn't speak, because there really weren't a whole lot of them. There were even less that would seek entertainment at the expense of others though. That's why it was so perfect, no one would really expect it. If they expected anything, it would be that Sam was faking, and that would lead to a newer, much more interesting argument. It was bound to bring about at least a few laughs.
It was funny to even think about Samson in court against a more or less unsuspecting person who just wanted to know what he was pointing to. God, that whole courtroom would be a circus. He hoped they'd put it on television or something. Did they even have Judge Judy or those kind of shows in Canada? He'd really never thought to look. Candid court tapes sans lawyers weren't really all too interesting. Sure, there was always the bitchy judge who berated the people, but even that got old fast. Regardless, a case of a pointing mute and a cashier would be the highest rated court show in history. Really, Brett adored the fact that Sam didn't let not talking bring him down. He hated people that got upset when something didn't work out their way, and Sam's case was a lot more serious than that. He could only imagine what it was like to never be heard again. Then again, it would probably be easier for most people than the attention whore that Brett had turned out to be. Samson would have been an inspiration, were Brett the type to be inspired by those type of Oprah-esque stories.
Well, at least Samson had confidence in Brett's performance as a mute. If a mute thought he could do it, what was stopping him? He'd manage to figure out how not to laugh. Maybe if he bit his tongue or something. Maybe then he'd be able to press through it. Though there was always the chance he'd bite his tongue clean off, depending on how out of hand the whole thing would get. If it was too funny, he'd probably end up being an actual mute. And he didn't think he'd ever be able to adapt to that kind of lifestyle. "Alright, we definitely have to do it then," he replied with a noticeable level of excitement. He was going to love this. Now he just had to figure out where. Mulling it over, he attempted to finish his food as fast as possible. "I dunno. Maybe some kind of electronic store?" he said with his mouth half full. He swallowed, explaining: "You know, impersonal, holier-than-thou staff, always populated by shoppers. Sounds like the perfect setting to me." It was funny, usually Brett wasn't much of a planner at all, but in situations like harassing people at their place of work, he really came into his own.
Tagged:: Samson
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Post by samson on Aug 27, 2011 18:33:05 GMT -5
Brett seemed like he would enjoy this, which made Samson actually happy—in his own happy-Samson way. He didn’t mean to be so stoic and unreadable, it was just how he worked. His very personality was quiet. Ironic, considering he came out a Thunder student. But he knew he fit into no other group. He believed himself to be Thunder through and through, even though his mother and Beatrice were Water and he had a soft spot for the group. It didn’t stop him from feeling an attachment to his allies. ”Sounds like a plan,” Samson wrote down, almost absent-mindedly. Writing and talking like this had become so natural to him over the years he barely even noticed any more. He barely had to pay attention as he ate his wrap. After so many years, this just because life for Samson, a natural way to operate in the world. And it never bothered him at all.
Samson believed his friend was right on the spot with an electronic store. ”We can hit Best Buy,” he wrote down, enjoying the devious thoughts circling in his head. He couldn’t say he enjoyed the pushy customer service in most electronic places, so he was more than willing to go along with Brett’s plan. ”I know there’s one nearby.” Maple Hollow was a decent-sized city where almost everything was accessible. He pretty much grew up here, even though he knew some people from the Academy boarded from other places in Canada. He didn’t know whether or not he’d prefer living in his home of Newfoundland—he loved going there for the summer and returning to see all the places from his childhood. But actually living there? He didn’t think it would be too hard for him, but Beatrice lived here and moving to Newfoundland would mean uprooting her. She wasn’t that gypsy-footed, and had lived in Maple Hollow her entire life, so even if Samson yearned for his home there, he couldn’t bring himself to ask her to move for him.
However, Samson was not finished his wrap yet, so he wrote down, ”We can head out after we eat.” It would be another walk, but the weather was more-than-nice. He hated winter and spring was all right, but his favorite season would have to be summer. He loved to swim, after all, and the feeling of summertime was also nice. It reminded him of his childhood, actually. He spent a lot of time in Newfoundland fishing and swimming with his parents. Okay, he had to admi that sometimes he grew nostalgic for those times, but they were pretty much fuzzy memories to him. Always have to live in the present and look to the future. ”In the meantime,” Samson wrote after brushing crumbs off his hands. ”How’ve you been lately?” He hadn’t asked Brett about how life had been going in general, so he guessed now was as good a time as any. It seemed that he was having a pretty good time with partying, but Samson didn’t know how often he went out to get completely hammered. Too often would mean his grades would probably start slipping and attendence would be made nearly impossible. Another reason Samson wasn’t for that lifestyle—he was too much of a geek. Brett really should beat him up or something, but he guessed the fact that he didn’t wear glasses or pocket protectors saved him from total dorkness.
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Post by brett on Aug 28, 2011 10:36:26 GMT -5
Brett was also a little curious as to why he developed his own elemental alignment. For sure, he thought that fire would have been much more his speed, not just because of genetics, but his aggression as well. It wasn't that he wasn't happy as a thunder, he loved it to death. He just thought it was strange that he wasn't a hothead. Maybe it had to do with the lack of strong ties with people. Fire kids seemed pretty quick to defend people, and Brett was happy just watching them get pummeled from afar. Regardless of element, unless they had done something to get his attention, he wouldn't bother helping out. It was just his nature. He wasn't sure if he was born that way, or raised that way, but whatever it was, he was selfish and destructive. He had to wonder if anyone would come to his rescue in the end. It was a kind of somber thought, but he was pretty sure that he wasn't meant to be aided in a fight or his life in general. It didn't matter though, Brett could take care of himself. He was more than capable of handling his own affairs, and fighting his own battles. He was too proud to do anything less.
Best Buy was the epitome of condescending electronics stores, which meant that he was more than happy to hear that there was one nearby. For attending school for four years here, he still hadn't really done exploring when it came to commercial establishments. He could always find the best parties, and knew everywhere in the area that sold cigarettes and alcohol, but that was pretty much the extent of his knowledge of the area. If he ended up somewhere else, it was accidental, and he'd probably be unable to find it in the future. Sense of direction wasn't his strong suit. This would be perfect though, he was bound to have a ball playing mute in a store where people naturally talked down to you. Hell, ideas were already starting to form in his head about how to make this even better. Brett really shined when it came to getting to others. He used to have to stress over how to get under someone's skin, but now it was just natural to him. He could rub anyone the wrong way if he wanted to. And God, did he want to. "That sounds perfect," Brett replied excitedly to the boy's writing. This would certainly be a day to remember, which was more than he could say about most of the adventures that he tended to go on.
Brett simply nodded as Sam told him that they'd go trolling after they were done eating. That sounded good. It was better than leaving food on the table, that was for sure. Brett liked to get his money's worth with the things he bought, food included. He wasn't stingy, or miserly, or anything, but he didn't have much money, so spending it meant that he'd better be getting a good deal on it. It was interesting that Brett actually had to hesitate when Sam asked how his life was going. He wasn't really one to ever try to evaluate things like that. Sure, his grades did suck, but they hadn't been good since freshman year. He didn't care about school. It wasn't a big deal in his life. It was all social interaction and now academics to him. Academics meant desk jobs, and that was something that Brett would never be able to handle. So it wasn't like he was really missing out. He was getting wasted a lot, but it wasn't like it was really bringing him down yet. Not to mention he was pretty much a total slut, which just added to the fun of his life. "Dude, it's been great," he said confidently. "It's like never ending Saturnalia." Brett actually amazed himself with that allusion. Maybe some things in school stuck with him after all. Pagan debauchery and the like just seemed so appealing to him. "How about you? Anything new going on?" he asked, taking the last bite of his food. Hopefully Samson wasn't just studying all the time. Brett knew he was more on the academic side, but that didn't mean he wouldn't live it up once in a while. At least, Brett hoped it didn't.
Tagged:: Samson
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Post by samson on Aug 29, 2011 3:14:26 GMT -5
Saturnalia, eh? That sounded pretty good. But Samson didn’t think he envied it. If he was a different person, then yeah, he might be right alongside Brett, but he wasn’t. He was Samson Fisher, who had a job working in an occult shop and liked to swim and spent a lot of time occupying himself with strange hobbies. He had friends, and usually he stayed active when with them. Not a lot of people wanted to have a conversation with a mute who had to write down everything he was saying, so when he was with any of buddies, he usually had to be doing something. And parties were at least pretty good for that, but the rare occasion he was dragged to one and got drunk, it was a bit difficult to tell people what was going on when his coordination in texting has gone to shit. No one knew what to do with ‘huut off aosstu9auj’, and even if he could be understood, they would be drunk too. No, parties weren’t very good for the mute. Trolling Best Buys was something he could to do. ”Just don’t get into too much trouble.” He smirked, taking another bite of his wrap between what he was writing down. ”I have a feeling I’m gonna be bailing you out of trouble sometimes.” Samson actually didn’t mind—Brett was a friend and he was a decent guy by his standards. So who cared if one of his wild nights ended up with some bad consequences?
When the question was turned back to him, he was happy to provide an answer. ”Got a girlfriend,” Samson wrote down, a light smile touching his lips. ”Fire chick. You know Harley Johnson?” If so, he wasn’t sure how Brett would feel about her. She as a traitor, even though the Fire students grudgingly accepted her back like they did Dale. But Samson wasn’t looking for approval—he was just proud of his relationship. Even though with his history, especially with Fire girls, he should have been wary, he wasn’t half as nervous as he usually was. He didn’t want this to fail, and didn’t see why it would. He always had to remind himself of the mantra that she’s ‘not like the others’, because she really wasn’t. To others, she may seem like a bit of a bitch, but that was natural Fire student behavior. To him, it was much different. He was pretty damn sure that he loved her, or at least something close to love. Therefore, he didn’t have any inhibitions about telling Brett that he was dating Harley, even though they were technically enemies. Yes, Samson was loyal to his element, but he was also loyal to the Fire girl.
”Other than that, same old, same old.” The only thing the war really did t oshake things up was to have Harley against him, but other than that, everything stayed the same. At least discovering new things with his powers helped keep things new. But still… ”Starting to think I need something to make my life at least somewhat more exciting.” You’d think living with someone like Beatrice would keep thing pretty lively, and they did most of the time. She sent the boy on random and odd errands and kept him entertained most of the time. But a lot of his adventures were saved when he was taken to Newfoundland for vacation. In the meantime, he just trolled around, playing devil’s advocate for his stepmother. Yeah, sometime he wished he was a partier like Brett, but that wouldn’t really work for him.
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Post by brett on Aug 29, 2011 15:56:05 GMT -5
Really, Brett would have been surprised if someone had envied his life. All he did was party. He was always drunk, and he was constantly in life threatening situations. Hell, sometimes he'd just end up picking fights with strangers just because it seemed like fun. His lifestyle wasn't a bright one. It may have been fun, but he didn't believe that anyone should have admired him for it. He actually looked up to kids who did the whole party and destruction thing better than he did - Altair came to mind - but he was an exception. He didn't think like most of the self-preserving people that he met on a daily basis. He was a wild child, and he loved that about himself. It was what made Brett who he was. Saturnalia meant complete indulgence in everything that he wanted, and that's exactly what he did. All of his life was without restriction or monitoring. Everything he wanted, he got. And that never grew old. Sam was telling him to make sure he didn't take anything too far. All Brett did was chuckle a little."No promises there," Brett said devilishly. Really, even if Brett made a decision not to get in trouble, he'd be bound to once he started drinking. He was a wild drunk. Then Brett heard something he really hadn't expected. Samson was willing to bail him out. "You know I'll hold you to that, right?" he jested. Hopefully he wouldn't have to depend on someone to help him out when he was in a bind, but it was nice to know that Samson was willing to be there for him.
When Brett heard that Sam was dating, he was more than interested. While Brett was more or less against relationships for the soul purpose that it bound two people together, he was more than happy to hear that Samson was with someone. Sam deserved happiness like that, while Brett would have found it dull and troublesome. It was just another example of how much their lives differed. "Really? Congratulations," he said with a smile. When his fellow thunder wrote out his girlfriend's name, he was a little curious about how everything was working out. Yeah, he knew Harley. At least, he knew she was a traitor. Then again, it wasn't like Brett wouldn't have betrayed thunder the moment that something better came along. If the water kids were throwing money or people at him to use as sex objects, it'd be hard to resist. He probably wouldn't just change sides for the sake of friendship, but that was just his vanity talking. As long as Sam was alright with the fact that Harley was a turncoat, it was cool with him. He really had no room to judge. Not to mention, fire girls were some of his favorites. "Well I'm glad to hear that, man. How'd that happen?" He hoped that Samson wouldn't mind writing a bit more, but he wanted to hear this story for some reason. He cared about the lives of his friends, regardless of how mundane they could potentially be. Then again, Sam wasn't a very mundane person, regardless of his nerdiness.
Sam was telling him that his life was the same other than the whole new girl thing, and Brett was a little disappointed. He wished that everyone lived the way that he did, always doing something exciting. He liked to wake people up from a life of just doing something boring, and wanted to keep them lively. It was much harder than it sounded. When Samson suggested that he needed something new to occupy his time, Brett smirked, quickly replying: "You should get a fast car," he suggested. Racing was a game that required no contact. It was all just going forward as fast as possible, dodging traffic, and maybe putting some money on the line. It seemed like the perfect Brett-esque game for Samson to take a shot at. Most of the other ones required a lot or communication, which could would have made it hard for the mute thunder.
Tagged:: Samson
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Count:: 682
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