like lightning from the sky , - - - [yeager]

[KNOX CAESAR KETILL]

His morning routine was a routine and usually just kept things simple. Get up.Comb hair and brush teeth. Dress. Have a cup of coffee and a light breakfast. Take a jog. Shower. Read the newspaper. It was the same, almost every single morning. Sometimes, if he wasn’t feeling well, Knox put off the jog until later in the day. It kept things organized. It kept him in the real world. It kept things easy. His routine wasn’t supposed to do anything more than that. It was just what it was and nothing more. It wasn’t supposed to be more, and yet his mind was growing repetitive even as he considered that particular morning and tried not to berate himself for making it feel like more. Today, his routine kept him calm. It acted like a security blanket, and it shouldn’t have. He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t certain or confident, but then he rarely, if ever, was. Part of him didn’t want to go, but he’d agreed. He stuck to his word when he could. Why had he agreed in the first place? Because they were friends.

So why was he nervous?

Knox tugged on the collar of his shirt a little as he walked. He’d opted out of taking a taxi or a bus simply so the chilly air could clear his mind. It failed miserably. He watched the various backdrops pass by; houses, trees, cars, snow, clouds, bushes, walls, gates, fences… everything. They become one and the same, as if the same scene was rolling behind him as he moved. His shoes clicked on the pavement. Each sound made his head tilt a little to one shoulder, almost like a twitch. Once he noticed it, he ran a hand over his face and sighed, stopping altogether to take a deep breath. Calm. Calm. There is no need to be nervous. Calm. He straightened completely, to a height that would have been impressive had he been more confident. He kept his eyes shut, his expression smoothing out as he thought of nothing. Nothing, however, was hard to grasp, and instead he turned his mind to tall glass of milk. The thought made him smile. He liked milk.

And he was ready to go again. His stride was a bit quicker, perhaps also due to the anxiety. He kept his head downward, not looking around himself until he entered completely unfamiliar territory and started to look for street signs to keep his bearings. That was the wrong one. That wasn’t it either. Keep moving. His lips pressed together a little as he searched for the building possessing the address he’d taken care to memorize. He should have taken a taxi. His fingers slid into his collar again and tugged on it. It wasn’t even that tight. Great.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. There it was. With relief, he saw the address and approached. Being uncomfortable was better than being lost. He stepped in front of the door, straightened his shirt and collar, and took another deep breath. His friend was hopefully waiting for him. If he wasn’t, that would just be awkward. Knox didn’t like awkward. It made him even more nervous than he usually was. Of course, maybe he had no reason to be nervous. That was always very possible. Of course, just because he was considering that didn’t mean that he was right. He was right far less often than he liked to be. At least he knew he was right about the address. His hand lifted, and fell to his side again. Knock? Ring the door bell? If someone was sleeping in, ringing the door bell would be rude. His hand lifted again, curled into a loose fist, and touched on the wood in an even rhythm of three beats. The earth elemental held his breath and waited.

[ELLIOT NATHAN YEAGER]

Yeager woke from the lack of oxygen flowing to his lungs. He tried to open his eyes, but all he saw was black. It took a moment to register he was being smothered, and he started to flail, but the weight on his face only intensified. With a grunt, he reached forward and began tickling the stomach of who he knew was his baby sister perched on his chest. He could believe his grandmother would try to smother him, but only Gloria was light enough to sit on him while doing so. The weight eased and he threw the pillow off his face to glare at the dark-skinned girl who pursed her lips and glared at him. "Are you out of your mind?" he asked, sitting up and pushing her away so that she landed on his bed. She crossed her arms. "You were supposed to go to my recital yesterday." He gave her an incredulous look, shaking his head slowly. "What--"

She stood up on his bed and started pulling at his curls. "You. Were. Supposed. To. Go. To. My. Recital." With each word she plucked at another strand of hair, and he whacked her hands away. "I had work, Gloria. And that doesn't mean you should try and kill me, you little freak. I'm going to tell Richard you made an attempt on my life." He turned to straighten his hair, and he looked back to see a crestfallen gaze on her face. At first, he stalled, wondering if he should believe this was honest sadness or if she was just trying to toy with his emotions. "I would have gone if I could," he said, but she only shook her head and walked away, as if completely disappointed. He didn't know what he was going to do with her. Instead of getting dressed, he stayed in his pajamas pants and thermal, figuring he might as well have a lazy day after working late yesterday. It sucked that he missed his sister's dance recital, but he didn't have a choice. Besides, the rest of the family had been there.

He headed out into the hallway and looked to see if his parents' were in there room. Of course they were both already up, and he headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth and piss before wandering downstairs to get some food. He crossed paths with Lucas in the hallway, and told him, "Gloria tried to kill me." The man rolled his eyes, and gave him a pointed look. "You two are always at each other's necks, how am I supposed to punish every single incident?" Yeager was well-aware that doing so would be entirely fruitless, but that wasn't even half the story. "She was smothering me with a pillow. That doesn't seem healthy." Lucas blinked, and looked around as if he would be able to see the tiny terror around the corner. Or rather, potential murderer. "All right, I'll talk to her," he said, and he hoped Richard would be in on that. He was the enforcer after all.

Yeager had his head in the refrigerator, about to take out the carton of milk when he heard a light rapping on the door. He had never had the kind of parents that would pretend they weren't home if someone came by unexpectedly, and so he had no reservations about opening the door. "Oh, hey Knox, what--" The Water boy stopped short as he felt something his the back of his knee, his leg buckling so that he dropped to the floor. He turned to see Gloria fleeing the scene and called after her, "I will call the police, I swear to God, Allah, Shiva, and Zeus." The girl had tried to kill him in his sleep, he felt that anger was justified. He stood back up, gripping the door and standing to the side. "Come in. Sorry I'm still in my pajamas, I figured I'd take a day off." He was usually impeccably dressed, anyone who knew him knew that. "What brings you by?" Yeager figured it was just to hang, he had a lot of friends who liked to crash his house as if it was their own. At least Knox had manners and didn't just walk in.

[KNOX CAESAR KETILL]

When the door opened, Knox was still debating whether the occurrence of such an event was one he looked forward to or would regret. At least it wasn’t a complete stranger on the other side; if it had been, he probably would have made an excuse about having the wrong address and gone home. He was coward. It was stupid, but he was and he couldn’t help it. So he supposed that it was a good thing Yeager opened the door—he dared a small smile, lips about to part in a reciprocated greeting, when the other suddenly collapsed to to the floor. He hadn’t seen the little girl, but, in realizing what she had done, his anxiety returned. What? He couldn’t even form a comprehensive question in his mind. After the horror passed, he regained his civility quickly enough to reach to help his friend up again, but retracted his hands as soon as he realized the effort already being put into the act and took a half step back to get out of his way. The oath was a creative one—more so than he had heard in a while. He recognized all the names, though his study of religion wasn’t extensive. It also seemed rather appropriate considering the seemingly unprovoked act of violence from the little girl, who no longer seemed to be in sight (perhaps, he thought, to avoid the elder’s wrath). He was about to comment on it when the question caught him off-guard.

The words died in his throat. He could feel the heat building in his cheeks. It should not have come as unexpected, but he had no answer prepared. If Yeager was taking the day off, maybe it was a bad time to come by. He would probably want to relax, as opposed to doing anything. The nervousness made his stomach quiver. It felt like the actual flesh was trembling inside him, complaining perhaps of the breakfast he’d been tempted to skip but had had anyway—a possible mistake. He had nothing to say. The common phrase, he knew, was hanging out, although it was too colloquial and far too broad to appeal to him in any greater sense. He didn’t want to use it, but he didn’t have quite the creative vocabulary that Yeager seemed to, nor did he have any particular skill at articulating his thoughts. Rather than force an awkward answer—and realizing, quite conveniently, that he was still standing on the threshold—he followed his friend’s suggestion and stepped into the building, letting a cautious gaze rove around what he could see, hopefully without being excessively nosy in any direction whatsoever. He was always curious to see how others lived, but he was also cautiously concerned for his friends.

Except for the possibly vicious little girl, about whom Knox could not be sure (perhaps the case had somehow been deserved), it didn’t seem to be a particularly hostile. But then, he was only barely in the entrance and hadn’t met the rest of the people in the house, though he’d heard a bit of the situation.

Remembering that cleared up what seemed to be blocking his throat. He coughed briefly into his fist, not meeting his eyes. Eye contact was polite, but he tended to be bad at keeping it. He preferred staring at someone’s nose or eyebrows. A nose, or eyebrows, tended to be far less intimidating than a steely gaze. Or any gaze, to be quite honest. He wasn’t even sure why. Maybe he subconsciously bought into the idea that the eyes were the windows to the soul, and he was afraid of what he would see, or what the other person could see in him. With a deep breath, he forced his eyes up despite his dissatisfied subconscious. He wanted to avoid the question. It was impolite, but he was still reaching for the words. To buy himself time—and to gather information—he asked another question instead, “Who… who was she?” He nodded in the direction into which the girl had escaped, curiosity shoving through and hoping that he wasn’t asking a question that would be… unappreciated. He didn’t mean to pry or make his friend uncomfortable, although the norm of the relationship definitely seemed to fall in the other direction. Exhibit A being his inability to answer that very simple question.

[ELLIOT NATHAN YEAGER]

Yeager knew the kid was a strange one. And kid was a very loose term, since he was in college, still going to the shared campus of the Academy. Or so, he considered him to be strange, even though he realized that he was just a timid thing. Like a deer or something other animal that startled in the face of headlights from a car. He almost wanted to apologize for the situation he walked into, but it was such a regular occurrence that he did not even consider it. His parents would be aghast that he allowed someone to see their home like that, a little wild child running around and judo kicking people. It wasn't something they could sweep under the rug. Yeager thought that maybe the better option would be to lock her in the attic or something.

When he entered, Yeager walked back into the kitchen and pulled out the carton of milk, opening it and sniffing to make sure that nothing was amiss. He peered over at Knox when he questioned who'd that been. "My sister, Gloria," he replied with a small grimace as he pulled out a bowl from the cabinet. "Not biological. But I like to pretend we are to confuse people." She was significantly darker than him, after all. His biological mother would have some explaining to do about that. "She's a Haitian child. But I'm pretty sure she was coughed up from the bowels of hell. Doesn't look as nice on the adoption papers, though." Knox may not have talked much, but the water student could more than make up for it. Especially when he was complaining about his sister. They had formed quite the rivalry without even sharing the same blood. He did consider her his real sister though, even though she apparently wanted him dead.

He poured the cereal in and added the milk, before turning to look at his friend. "You want anything. I can actually make breakfast, think we have eggs and bacon." He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I lied, ate all the bacon two days ago when the fridge stopped working." It had turned into him eating everything that might have gone to waste, and afterward he thought that it would be impossible to ever eat again. He'd been wrong, considering the next day he was eating whatever else he hadn't polished off. He was a growing boy, he couldn't hep his appetite.

[KNOX CAESAR KETILL]

Weird is good. Strange is bad. Odd is when you don’t know what to call someone. He wasn’t sure where he’d heard the saying, but he found it mildly amusing when he happened to think of it, and always wondered where he fit in. He knew some whose favorite description would be ‘strange,’ by that definition, but he liked to think of himself as ‘odd’ simply because it was easier than forcing a judgment of himself on himself. Besides, he didn’t want to unnecessarily insult or compliment himself because there was no point in doing so. It could hit his ego, what he had one one at least, in a way that wouldn’t necessarily be good for him. Part of him liked to think that his ego was exactly where it should be reasons of mental health, but then he was no expert on psychology and didn’t really want to be. It was an interesting subject, which he would admit any day, but it was not one that tugged on his heart quite as much as language did. Language was fascinating. Even if he sucked at the talking part of it, he loved it. Even when he heard languages he did not understand, he enjoyed listening to them and picking them apart. The mathematical part of his major just wasn’t a lot of fun.

Spending time with friends, however, did happen to be, which was why he had come here today. He had wanted to spend time with a friend, despite the regrets now plaguing him, the inability to shove away thoughts that he had come at an incredibly inconvenient time or day. His gaze flickered around his friend’s face, and he wished his skills at reading facial expressions were better than they really were. The man started moving.

Knox followed him out of instinct, not sure what more to do with himself. He was in a strange place—strange not because it was odd, but because it was foreign, and it wasn’t like there was a point to just waiting in front of the door, as if he wanted to escape again. It seemed sort of obvious to follow him anyway, considering Yeager was the only person he knew by name in the entire building, unless the other had a relation Knox knew without knowing they were related. He shrugged that much off, not too worried that he’d missed something that extreme. It just seemed incredibly unlikely. At least, so he hoped. He also hoped that the milk wasn’t sour, as his friend’s caution in drinking it portrayed doubt for. He wouldn’t have had the milk himself, but maybe it was just because he wasn’t a huge fan of cereal. He shrugged it, too, off easily, keeping his mouth shut, which happened to be a rather obvious skill of his.

Shut your mouth and listen. Smile and be polite. Don’t speak unless spoken to, and then say as little as you can. Maybe it was a rich kid lesson, that children were supposed to be quiet and cute and obedient and generally stay out of sight. His parents (or his nannies, for that matter) had never been quite that controlling, but he’d heard enough stories with that general idea to understand its existence.

Though the existence of Yeager’s sister surprised him a little. Sister? The question entered his mind just as his friend answered, and it clicked quite easily in his head. It made sense with what little he knew about the family. A biological sister didn’t quite make sense, considering, but also due to the difference in skin tone. It was possible, yes, but at the same time, it seemed incredibly improbable. He couldn’t stop himself from cracking the smile at his friend’s description. It wasn’t so much that the description itself was amusing, but rather the nature of causing it. Siblings, apparently, got along as famously as they did by stereotype, which was not at all. Was it caused by the fact that they were siblings, or had some deeper problem caused the disagreeable relationship? It was none of his business, so he again said nothing.

He shook his head slowly at the offer. “I’ve already eaten… breakfast.”

[/color] He’d lost track of his time in searching for the house, so he wasn’t quite sure what time it was. Was it lunch time? His stomach wasn’t complaining, but then he tended to eat more out of schedule than hunger nowadays. He didn’t eat very much as a rule, which prevented the habit from becoming unhealthy. And regarding lunch, it very well could be. He knew some people like to stay up rather late and then sleep long enough to make up for it. While Knox tended to rise early for his jog, he had slept in occasionally—usually when he was caught up with a cold of some kind. He also felt it was odd for people of his age. “Thanks, th-though…”[/color]

He’d sort of blundered in uninvited, and demanding a meal seemed like he would jsut add some insult to his friend for letting him come in. Of course, that might just have been his subconscious piling on some unneeded guilt. He shook the thought quickly away, feeling that it was unneeded anyway. He cleared his throat quickly. "How-uhm... How are you?"[/color] The kick had looked painful, but Knox hope that his question would be understood as acting for a little bit more than that. He meant the general idea outside that, though he also hoped his leg wasn't hurting anymore. And he was also insanely curious if he'd see the little girl again.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[ELLIOT NATHAN YEAGER]

If there was one thing more-than-decent about Yeager, it was that he took people's personalities in stride. He accepted them and was mindful of them. If he knew a friend of his did not like going to a certain store in the mall, he avoided it. He remembered things like that. It was different if he didn't like you, however. If he didn't like you, he exploited whatever it was he knew about you. He could be a bully, but would not attack someone who did not defend themselves. There was no point in it. The people who usually made enemies of him were the ones who enjoyed confrontation anyway. He annoyed more people than he disliked, actually. And he had to say that he liked annoying people, which was a little bit of a shame. Sometimes it was a conscious effort of his, which did not make it any better. At least he was a good friend, and that's what he focused on most.

He snorted when Knox commented in that quiet manner of his that he had already eaten breakfast. Lucky guy, he had to say. "Obviously had an earlier start than I did," Yeager said, scooping up the cereal and shoveling into his mouth. He swallowed politely before continuing to speak. "I worked late last night, actually. Which is most of the reason Gloria is particularly antagonistic today. Tried to smother me in my sleep." He wondered if this would freak Knox out. A lot of his friends would just laugh and play it off, but Knox wasn't like most of his friends. He wasn't one of those douche bags, and he made it known how much he respect the guy for that. He never kept quiet about his opinions, was honest and up front about all.

But right now he was a little too busy eating to make much comment on how fidgeety Knox was. A lot of people were uncomfortable in other's homes. That only happened to Yeager when the home was messy and dirty or something like that. His own was nice, immaculate, brightly lit. He could almost hear its lisp walking down the halls. "Other than the near-death experience, I'm doing all right. Don't have anything to do today, which is fucking magical. Feels like I've been doing shit all the time lately." Leave it to him to complain. Yaeger nodded toward the glass kitchen table and told Knox, "Sit down, man, make yourself at home. Look like your constipated or something. How've you been?"[/b These freaking cocoa were his favorite thing right now, and he divided his attention between the cereal as he leaned against the kitchen counter and Knox himself.

[KNOX CAESAR KETILL]

Knox didn’t work. He didn’t need to. It was a bit unfair, he supposed, for some of his friends, but he was glad for it. It meant he didn’t yet have to force himself to interact with more people then he felt comfortable, nor did he have to deal with strangers. He didn’t need the money. His father had enough to keep him comfortable. His grandfather had even more. He knew he would have a fair inheritance when either of them died, although he hoped they would both live as long as was possible. If his family members died, he’d have even fewer people around whom he was comfortable. He would lose chances at conversation, although his friends were better for that. It was comforting that, when the family fell apart, he would still have friends. At the same time, he wanted to keep his family as long as he was able. It was a bit of a predicament.

Getting up early wasn’t. He rarely stayed up late enough to cause him any problems, and most days he woke up without needing his alarm clock. He still set it, of course, but sleep usually left him before it rang and lay in bed until the beeping sounded. He’d read until he turned off the little machine and hopped out of bed, or just stared at the ceiling and traced patterns in whatever it was made up of. What were ceilings made of anyway? Plaster? Wood? It didn’t look like wood. It also didn’t quite look like plaster. Maybe that was because of the paint, if ceilings were even painted. It seemed like a bad idea, what with the paint dripping from the ceiling and painting anyone who stood beneath it and tried to paint the area. This formed a bit of an amusing image in his mind, someone trying to dart about and splash paint upwards.

The idea of smothering someone was not amusing, however, and worry flitted across his face. His gaze browsed over his friend, checking to make sure he was okay, but didn’t press on that subject, thinking that he was okay if he was enjoying some cereal. The word didn’t sound much like a true complaint anyway, though he wasn’t an expert on lying or tones of voice or anything like that. Curiosity did press him to ask about the antagonism, however. “Why… why does you-your working late b-bother her?” Was it really bad if Yeager was working? If the two disliked each other, she should enjoy that he worked, because it gave them less reason to interact. So why did she react in such a manner? Had Yeager disturbed her sleep upon his arrival? That seemed a bit irrational, to be honest, and he was pretty sure his friend would be quiet on his return so as to avoid doing so. His confusion was obvious on his face.

In general, Knox didn’t lie. He avoided it when he could. There was little point in lying, and he didn’t like it when other people did so either. He understood why people would lie, and there was always the side of him that disliked trusting strangers and therefore made it hard for him to trust a lot of people. Trust was an issue for others, too, he expected, though many trusted far more easily than he ever would, so that could bring about lies as well. It didn’t help his thought process tot ake into consideration that many strangers had every reason to lie and no reason to tell the truth, though he suspended suspicion when with friends. He took words generally at face value, though he did ask for more information so he could try to understand minds that worked so differently from his own.

As for being busy, sometimes he found he could sympathize. Being busy wasn’t a bad thing, unless you felt you were being choked or overwhelmed by all the activity, which he supposed was how Yeager currently felt.

He glanced at the table as soon as his friend mentioned it, then sank slowly into one of the chairs in obedience, still not entirely sure what to do with himself. He wasn’t constipated. His breakfast had sat very well with him actually. He didn’t generally eat a huge mass of cheese anyway, so he rarely had the problem of constipation. And he’d never bring it up in conversation. The fact that his friend did so had him tempted to lift an eyebrow in curiosity, but he kept his mouth shut, seeing as the rest of the sentence gave enough reason for it. Was it that obvious that he was a bit uncomfortable? His cheeks colored. “I… I’ve b-been well,”

[/color] he replied softly. He didn’t like it when people paid the majority of their attention on him. And yet, he felt he needed more to explain himself. Too bad he sucked at conversation. “I’ve had a—a bit of, uhm, free-free time and… I, uh… I thought… if you-you’re interested… we could d-do something…”[/color] From the sound of it, it might not be as appealing as he’d originally though—considering his friend had jsut complained about being busy.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[ELLIOT NATHAN YEAGER]

Yeager didn't want to feel the guilt he did. The boy did not have any control over his schedule, he couldn't help it when he had to work late. But Gloria did not understand that, she was still young. A teenager now, but she was still a ways off from getting a job, a car, anything that young adults needed to pay attention to. "I missed her dance recital." He shrugged, noticing the worry in his friend's gaze. A smile worked its way to his lips, even though it didn't fully form for the true guilt he felt. "I get how she's feeling, but doesn't give her a right to hold a pillow over my face as I'm trying to dream about quitting my job and dancing on the tables." Not what he actually dreamed about, but sometimes that's where his mind wandered too when waiting for an order to drop off. He considered himself a poor white kid working under the communist regime of a temperamental Chinaman. It was mostly the bitterness talking, but for as much as he talked, he did not explain this to his little sister. Their communication mostly involved yelling at each other.

This kid needed to get out more, Yeager thought. Or something. Just get around, out of his shell. He was mostly used to the Water students who liked to get up to whatever shit they could. But the Earths could be different. There were outgoing ones, but they did hang around each other a lot, being their pacifistic selves. It was an element he did not see himself fitting in. Sure, he could be calm and gentle... He had to stop that train of thought there, he just did not fit in. Too outspoken and energetic, always doing something. Always talking. But he did like having friends in the element. They grounded him, like Knox did. He didn't always have to be crazy around him not that it was an effort. It was just that he usually found himself conforming to people he surrounded himself with. He figured that was everyone then.

He was glad to hear that the Earth student was doing well, as anyone would be. Yeager nodded before putting his bowl in the sink and running water over it. His parents hated when he left food in the sink, and so he turned the garbage disposal on before actually replying to Knox. "Sure, that sounds good," he said. "You wanna stay in? It's cold as balls out, but I guess I could go. Don't know, figured I'd hang out and play X-box or something." He didn't play it enough to be like some of his friends, but he still enjoyed it from time to time. He couldn't imagine not liking video games. "Or I'm sure we can find something else to do. Hopefully my parents will go out or something and not...hover and shit." Lucas liked his friends, chatting them up and floating around. He was the embarrassing one Yeager oftentimes wanted to push somewhere else.

[KNOX CAESAR KETILL]

A… dance recital. Knox blinked in surprise, not having expected that. It certainly piqued his interest in the little girl. What sort of dancing did she do? Was it ballet? Usually that was specified, so perhaps not. He was pretty sure that ballroom and latin dancing did not have ‘recitals’ so it was probably a different type of dance. He doubted, for some reason, that she was a contemporary dancer. Maybe she was a jazz dancer or a line dancer. He was tempted to ask, but he wasn’t about to disclose his secret fancy for dancing. Yeager already knew one of his other secrets, and he wasn’t sure how many he should share. Why put all your money in one investment, after all? What if the investment fell through? It just felt like a bad idea. Despite his curiosity, he silence himself quickly. He loved dancing, but he didn’t think he’d be upset if a friend or family member didn’t show up to a competition or something. In fact he would have preferred that. He didn’t want anyone to know. If he ever got up the courage to compete, he didn’t want anyone he knew to be there. He wanted it to anonymous.

Maybe he should publish under a pseudonym, when he got up the courage to publish or at least try to get himself published. At this point, he hadn’t even gotten that far. The problems were in the fussy little details. Nothing was truly finished. Maybe nothing would ever be truly finished? Maybe it wouldn’t and that would be that and he’d be done with it. He needed to write for himself. Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self. He had found the quote online somewhere while doing research, and it had hit home for himself. He valued his identity, even if he was still figuring out what sort of identity that was. He didn’t need to expose himself to anyone quite yet. He was fine looking inside of himself and not letting anyone see what he didn’t wish them to see. It was safer and less frightening. Publishing without his real name seemed less scary than doing so with, so perhaps he would make up a name for himself, once he was ready.

He was ready to spend the day with his friend. He had nothing else to do and the idea appealed to him, regardless of the plans as long as Yeager didn’t expect him to attend some sort of part. Knox was not one for parties. He didn’t like the loud music or being squished between so many people, nor did the type of dancing that occurred in such a situation appeal to him. The sort of dancing he imagined at the parties he imagined he wouldn’t honestly call dancing, but he rarely had any other words for it. “Grinding” seemed too disrespectful, although the people who used the movements he meant apparently had little respect for themselves. Then again, he had never been to one of the parties. He was making assumptions about things he had not witness, which was never a good thing. Though it didn’t appeal to him, he should perhaps attend one of the parties to see what they were like, as research. Perhaps he could talk a friend into videotaping it for him instead, though he wasn’t sure how well that would end up. Which of his friends attended parties anyway? He didn’t normally talk about things like that.

Considering he’d walked here, he knew how cold it was outside and was willing to testify to it. He had no desire to go back out and do something in the cold from which he expected snow to fall from the sky again. Staying inside sounded like a good idea, and he didn’t mind video games too much, though he hadn’t played many and wasn’t too familiar with the selection out there. He hardly knew many of the genres, either, so he would be open to any his friend happened to offer.

Though about to reply and agree to it, he stopped when Yeager mentioned his parents. He considered the format of the family to be an admirable one. He admired Yeager all the more for his acceptance of it. Sure, they were his parents, but still. He envied how easy it looked and sounded sometimes. Unlike his friend, he found a glimmer of hope that maybe one or both of the parents would hover so he could meet them and see how they interacted with one another. Of course, he’d feel bad if he ended up focusing less on Yeager, but it was still incredibly tempting. He considered what to say before he opened his mouth, trying to decide what he actually wanted to say. And then, of course, there was the thought that he would stutter, so he took another moment, watching as his friend stood at the sink as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, lost in indecision. “Well… I wouldn’t mind… playing a game… I-I don’t know m-many, though…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. he decided to make the offer, although he knew what he would prefer. “If you don’t mind… my sticking around here… b-but if you want... we could go to-to m-my house...”

[ELLIOT NATHAN YEAGER]

Surprisingly, Yeager actually had quite a bit of patience with people. He was an overall accepting guy, it was how he'd been raised. Respect others, do unto people and blah blah blah, those lessons. But it was just a part of his laidback personality, taking everything in stride like a beach bum sipping an umbrella drink while watching the waves. That's where he'd like to be right now, actually, down at the beach, somewhere far away. Winter made him yearn for things, for hot chocolate and warm fuzzy blankets. He almost wished he could go back to sleep, but now he was fearing that he wouldn't wake up. That was him locking the door from now on.

He snorted when the boy said that he didn't know many games. He couldn't say that he was an aficionado either, but he played enough, just like every other youth in Canada. "You'll catch on. We can play Super Mario Brothers or something. I have the original on Wii." That was a pretty easy, basic game. And every had to have played it once, right? You didn't have a childhood if you didn't have an N64. "So let's just stay here. I do not even feel like getting dress, let alone walking." It was a pain in the ass, especially in this weather. He was just fine chilling out around the house and do nothing. His parents didn't mind, as he often got out enough. And as Richard said, at least when he's in the house they know he's not getting up to no good. At least, not when Gloria wasn't around.

Before he could take Knox back to the "game" room--which used to be a family room, but none of them hang out there at the same time--Lucas came into the kitchen. "I talked to Gloria, she said she wouldn't try to smother you again." He sighed, before smiling at Knox, lifting a blond eyebrow. "Thought I heard the door open, hello hello. I don't think I've ever seen you around before." And here we go. Lucas always had a keen interest in Yeager's social life and his friends. He liked to be the cool dad. "His name is Knox," Yeager said, shaking his head in amusement, figuring he should answer for the boy because he was already iffy with handling strangers. At least Lucas made people feel welcomed in his over-excited away. He loved the man, but like all parents, he was embarrassing.

Lucas put an arm around his son's shoulder, gripping him in a sideways hug. "I can't believe how many friends this kid has, he is such a bore." Yeager laughed, pushing his father away. Yes, he was the most embarrassing parent the Water elemental had, especially when he called out, "Rich, come here, Elliot has a friend over!" The boy rolled his eyes, sending an apologetic look to Knox. "Get out of here, Dad, don't you have something to color or arrange or whatever it is you do?" The man only smiled that charming smile of his. He was used to his son's disapproval of his antics. "I am a magazine editor," he told the Earth graduate. "And I do not color things, I arrange where everything goes. It's a great job." And now he was going to go off into a tangent about it, wasn't he? This was only to be expected, and Yeager braced himself, shrugging at Knox and not knowing how to chase his father off.

[KNOX CAESAR KETILL]

Knox had not spent his childhood playing many video games. His parents had certainly had the funds for the games and consoles, if he had asked for them, but he just never had. He’d read books or drawn pictures, though those had never been very amazing. The books had gotten him into writing, and he’d had no desire to go looking through video games and staring at console screens, televisions, or computer screens—unless he was typing at the latest. As a result, he knew very little about video games except for what he’d seen in the occasional commercial or to what his friends had introduced him. He knew a few basic names, but that was about it. He hadn’t played many before, at least not any that really stuck out in his brain, but he wasn’t going to complain about that. If it wasn’t enough for him to remember, he probably hadn’t enjoyed it exponentially or disliked it immensely, so he wasn’t missing anything as far as he was concerned. And since he didn’t exactly despise video games, he had no reason to turn down Yeager when he offered.

Even though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about. The title sounded vaguely familiar, but he wasn’t sure if he’d played it before or if he’d only ever seen it in a commercial, of which he didn’t watch many. He generally didn’t see the point in them, which instilled an odd sort of feeling in him that made him enjoy staying away from them. He didn’t like to call it a dislike, but he’d never found the interest. Though he wasn’t necessarily looking forward to it, he didn’t expect that he’d be terrible if the controls were easy. He’d heard they would be easy to use—why play video games if the controls were impossible?—and he was a fast learner, so he shouldn’t have a problem, right? Right. He hoped.

Unlike video games, he had no complaints about the other’s mood and reasoning for staying in, and didn’t comment on it. Some days were just meant to be lazy. Since he started most days with a jog anyway, he rarely had a day that was lazy in its entirety unless he was sick, but he got restless if he didn’t do anything for a long period of times. Jogging eased that a bit. Sitting and playing a video game might cause some sort of competitive excitement that he was curious about. It was a thing he didn’t understand about most sports. Playing could be fun, but why were people so excited to watch them and root for teams the people on which one didn’t know? It seemed a little pointless, if he was being honest with himself, and much as with video games, pointlessness didn’t appeal to him. He like it when things made sense, when they were productive, when they had some sort of purpose to lead in life. He hadn’t quite found his own purpose yet, but that was okay with him. He’d find it eventually.

Embarrassment, he was sure, was not the purpose. When the man entered the kitchen, he shrank a bit in his chair sheerly out of instinct. Instinct said not to be noticed when this was avoidable, and not to speak to strangers unless necessary. Thankfully, the man didn’t notice him right away, and he kept his breathing even for a long moment. Naturally, the moment wasn’t long, and he found the eyebrow lifting as the mouth expelled a greeting, to which he nodded and lifted a hand in a wave as silent response. Words were unfathomable to his mind at the moment—at least the spoken word. Those that flooded his thoughts were largely incomprehensible, and he was extremely relieved when Yeager introduce him, glad he didn’t have to do so himself. He did manage to stand up, as he felt was polite, especially since he expected they might be moving into a different room. He wasn’t sure how much Yeager’s father’s presence would influence the impromptu plans they’d just made. He’d wanted to see Yeager’s parents, yes, but actually meeting them was a bit different.

Watching them interact with one another—and with their eldest—would be interesting, though, and he was relieved for the opportunity despite his anxiety. He had so little experience with his own parents in an environment when they weren’t trying to impress anyone. Or were Yeager’s parents trying to impress him, too? He wasn’t entirely sure what the plan was there, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He could imagine the odd looks he would get if he managed the question, and the flush of embarrassment that would follow. If he didn’t get kicked out for the rude question, that was. It wasn’t rude that this parent wanted him to meet the other, though his heart thudded nervously in his chest and his skin paled a shade from the anxiety that just refused to leave his system. Dear god, at least they wouldn’t be mean like the little girl seemed to be, though she’d sort of been right in her reaction. Not entirely, but still. He smiled at his friend’s apologetic look, the most he could managed, and shook his head in an attempt to assure him it was all right even if his current lack of coloration disagreed with it.

He nodded along to the man’s explanation of his job, unsure how he should respond. Lying didn’t appeal to him, and he didn’t know what word was really appropriate here. Should he share that he was a student? He guessed that Yeager’s parents know about his powers, so they would probably know about the academy, right? He cleared his throat. Words. Words would be good right about now. SPEAK, YOU FOOL. “I… I’m in c-college… a ling-linguistics m-major…”

[/color] The man knew his name already, right? Right? Good, because he wasn’t sure he’d remember it well enough right now to spit it out at him.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[ELLIOT NATHAN YEAGER]

Yeager did not think his father understood people like Knox simply because of how outgoing the man was. It was hard for him to imagine anyone not being like him, as he floated around in his own world of bright colored and fashion icons and what-have-you. He wasn't quite a ditz, he had proven his intellifence several times over, but he gave the impression of someone who lived life their own way wihtout concern of how others thought or felt about him. The Water boy admired that quality in his father, even though he was not the parent that usually garnered admiration from him.

Lucas must have taken notice of the amount of time it took Knox to speak up, but nothing in his face betrayed as much, no curious look or inquiry coming from his lips. Yeager simply knew his parents well enough to understand silent cues that weren't even cues at all. It was a sort of understanding that came with family, with knowing someone for so long that they were the back of your hand, a well-memorized map. That's his relationship with the people he loved. ”Linguistics,” the man noted with a nod. ”Now that's not something just anybody has an interest in. What made you choose linguistics.” Yeager wondered just how well Knox was going to do with this sort of question, even though it was asked quietly and with gentle curiosity. At least Lucas knew how to handle people. Most of the time. Sometimes he was a little too exuberant for some people's tastes, and he took a bit of getting used to.

Richard walked into the kitchen then, a newspaper in his hand as he ran the other through his hair. He looked professional as always, like he was just about to go to work even though Yeager knew for a fact he didn't have to go in today. It was just the kind of man Rich was, the kind of man that Yeager had once aspired to be before his laziness caught up with him. ”You hollered?” he asked Lucas flatly, though there was a hint of humor in there, before noticing Knox, looking at him while he waited to be properly introduced by someone who knew who he was. ”Elliot's friend, Knox. He's a linguistics major.” Lucas said linguistics as if it was saying he was the prince of Egypt or the messenger of the gods. Yeager crossed his arms, merely watching in amusement now as Richard held out his hand for the Earth graduate to shake, and said, ”Nice to meet you. So you're in college or graduated? Didn't know my son had any friends that might make something of themselves.” Yeager decided to speak up then, cutting off any chance for Knox to speak when he said, ”Ha, ha.” That would be an insult to both him and his friends, and that was just not okay.

[KNOX CAESAR KETILL]

Humans were the only creatures on earth that took pleasure in another’s being pain or death. Animals killed, sure. Hell, animals could even do what humans considered rape among their own kind. But other animals did not take pleasure in hurting the others around them. They didn’t like the site of blood or something like that. At least, that was what he’d read. He was pretty sure the technology to read an animal’s mind did not exist. Could they even have coherent thoughts? He wasn’t sure. But he knew that among humans, sadism did exist. It was not a thought that helped him when he met strangers, even if they were people he’d heard about or had been excited to meet. Even though both applied to Yeager’s fathers, they still made him nervous. They were still strangers, after all, strangers about whom he knew very little. Did he actually know anything? Know, as in a fact and for sure, outside of what Yeager had told him?

Outside of his friend’s sharing, he knew nothing. That didn’t help either.

What did help was that the man didn’t comment on his stutter or how long it too him to get anything out of his mouth. It also occurred to him that the man hadn’t shared his name. Saying “Mr. Yeager” seemed like a bad idea solely because that seemed to apply to three different people, maybe even more. It also served to make him more nervous than having to answer the question did. Fortunately, he could be rather succinct when he wanted to be. What had gotten him into linguistics? Language. He wanted to know more about language because he wanted to write. He wasn’t about to share anything about his writing, though. That was private, and he intended to keep it private. That was simple. So he needed to stick with language. What about language though? It was fascinating. He liked learning about it. How to say those things, though, using as few words as possible? “Language… language fa-fascinates me…” he replied after another moment of silence, feeling his cheeks heat up in fear the answer wouldn’t be enough.

The other man who entered seemed more along the lines of who Knox saw himself as. The neat kind. Sure, he was being judgmental, jumping to conclusions about strangers, but he needed to find some sort of comfort in the kitchen that was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable. Yeager was being surprisingly quite, which wasn’t easing his mood either. Wasn’t the water supposed to be chatty and excitable? Maybe he was drawing too much on the general water stereotype, but he felt that would have been very helpful. The three could just talk and he could fade intot he background, become part of the scenery. A piece of him would start to look like the fridge while the rest took on the exact shade of brown of the cabinets. Yeah, right. He was an elemental, not a chameleon. If he were a chameleon, he would have been in Africa somewhere or in a cage, not being chased into conversation he was horrible at having.

A handshake wasn’t a conversation, though, so he didn’t hesitate nearly as much when Richard off his hand for one. He kept it quick and curt, business-like as his father had taught him. Don’t grip too tightly, but keep it strong so they know to respect you. Hold on just long enough so they know you’re serious, but not too long or it will grow uncomfortable. He remembered practicing the handshake for a whole afternoon with his father. It was a rare but fond memory for him, one that always tempted him to smile, though he was far too nervous at the moment for that. It did serve to relax him a little. He nodded to the man, then realized a nod wouldn’t answer his question and added hesitantly, “Still… s-studying.”

[/color] He hadn’t graduated from college yet at least, though he frowned a little at the insult that follow, directed at Yeager rather than himself. He didn’t like to think ill of his friends, and had he been more outspoken he would have said something, though Yeager didn’t seem to mind too much.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]