little british boy came up to me out of nowhere, called me mistah, asked me to draw a skeleton then compared my art to da vinci after i drew it for him

2000 revived 264 healed

My Fic List

Whelp, decided I should do one of these.  I have mostly written for Hockey RPF and BNHA, as you have likely already seen!

My BNHA Fics

Bury Them Deep

- “Shouji Mezou's entire life has revolved around being a goalie and playing hockey since he was five years old. After being drafted in the third round in the NHL, Shouji has two more years of college before moving on to playing professional hockey like he's always wanted. Or at least like he always thought he wanted. An injury that ends his season throws him into a tailspin, forcing him to take a look at his life and how he is going to live it, especially after meeting his fascinating new goth history tutor.”

(This bad bitch is 81k total and is chock full of my red hot hockey takes and midwestern references.  I love it very much and it is a sweet baby.)

The Rooftop Necromancy series AKA my black metal band AU:

Downhill from Here 

- “ Hizashi just wants to tour the country with his best friends with their metal band in their shitty van like they've been planning for years. He'd successfully hidden his crush on one of them for years, after all, he would definitely be able to make this work and keep things fun and uncomplicated. Until Aizawa decided to start acting weird. “

(In which I take you all on a nostalgic trip to 2006-2008 metal culture and you can see the black metal love song that my dumb ass wrote.)

The Perfect Mistake

- “ It wasn't as though Hizashi had planned on breaking up with his boyfriend while they were on tour in a tiny cargo van with no room and no peace. He would have much rather preferred to do it when they were home and he could easily go and crawl back into his mom's basement. But he didn't have a choice. “

(As relationships tend to do, theirs goes through problems.)

Rooftop Necromancy

-"He’d even ended up leaning into the crowd when someone’s elbow had connected solidly with his nose and thrown him back. They’d gone quiet as Hizashi got himself up to his feet, ripped off his now bloody ‘Within Temptations’ tshirt from 2004, whipped his hair back from his face and screamed, “That’s what I’m FUCKING talking about.” into the mic.

They went wild for it, cheering as blood ran down his nose, past his mouth and dripped onto the stage, leaving him feeling like an otherworldly monster performing an occult ritual. Metal, he thought dazedly to himself, why in the fuck had he ever stopped doing metal."

(I hyperfocused so hard at the idea of Mic as a metal head that I wrote this in seven straight hours and WROTE THROUGH THE ATTEMPTED COUP ON DEMOCRACY WITHOUT KNOWING IT.  It’s a bit rough, but it’s got some good parts and it spawned the whole damn series.)

Hands Up

- "But of course he had, they had always been able to read each other and what they meant. That had often been their problem, if he was going to be honest."

(In which they figure their shit out.  Basically it was written when I was thinking alot about how my own mental health had evolved through the years.  It’s basically the story of two people who are both very good for each other and also very bad and how they deal with that.  It’s probably the most personally meaningful thing I’ve ever written.)

The other BNHA fics:

Waking Up With Ghosts

-"Hizashi opened his eyes to a world that belonged to ghosts. His headphones were gone and the gray, grimy world that he felt more than saw was muffled and still. This was bad, he hazily thought."

In which we follow Hizashi shortly after the events of 296. How he's found, how he finds out and how he has to tell.”

(I fished this one out of the garbage of my Google Docs because I’d written most of it and forgotten about it.  I dragged it out, prettied it up a little and threw it up on AO3.  It is by far my most well read BNHA fic, go figure.)

Leave Her Johnny

-”Captain Hizashi Yamada has combed the Seven Seas looking for the elusive smuggler Eraserhead. He has spent years searching for him, tracking his movements and trying to anticipate where he would be next. But he had never considered what would happen when he finally found him. “

(I wrote a paragraph of this and was immediately like ‘I MUST CREATE THIS’.  I take some chances writing wise in this as the whole thing is done in a Victorian Era ish style of writing.  But I think it’s effective and the ending is likely one of the best that I’ve ever managed.  I’m proud of it.)

Gold Rush

-”"That earned him a laugh and Mashirao’s smile made something in his chest ache, something that made him want to hurt. Why had he ever left?

“I’m really not,” Mashirao was saying but Shinsou just shook his head and kissed him once, twice and wished he could take the sunny afternoon and make it stay forever. Make it stay forever like Mashirao somehow had, while the neighborhood had adjusted without Hitoshi’s permission.

“You are,” he said, “And I love it.”

I love you, he should have said.  But as Mashirao’s eyes softened and the blonde pushed him back against the bed, Hitoshi knew he didn’t need to say it."

(You know how sometimes you listen to a Death Cab for Cutie song about gentrification over and over until a fic comes out?  Because that’s basically what happened here.)

Black Sun

‘"But then he remembered the way that Shouji had eaten the night after, one hand curled into his hair as he hung back in the corner. Shouji hid when something was wrong, like a wounded cat trying to find a dark place to either live or die and he was being released tomorrow. Now was the time to push or he’d find Shouji right back on his bed, staring at nothing."

Something happened to Shouji on the beach. Tokoyami is sure of it.‘

(Aaaaaand Death Cab for Cutie strikes again.  But heyo, my first published ShouToko and it is SOFTTTTT)

In the Far and Mighty West

Mic came closer and despite himself, Shouta could not find it in him to feel afraid. “You won’t understand, not really. I’ll try, though. I’m like Pecos Bill or Paul Bunyan or a jackalope or that fish that your friend caught that he swears he brought in but that you’ve never seen proof of. I’m the herd of dogies moving sweet and steady in the right direction, I’m no stragglers to worry about, I’m that perfect dog that’s there to keep them in line. I’m that group of good friends that you would kill for, I’m the woman who you’re dying to come home to, I’m that promised home of milk and honey. I’m Mic.”

Shouta stared at him dazedly and licked his lips, feeling drunk and stupid as he stared at the man. “You’re… magic?”

“I suppose you could call me that.”

(Cowboy!Erasermic.  Inspired heavily by American Gods and my own love of folk heroes.)

In Your Violence

- “'Mezou frowned, eyes narrowing. “Are you trying to say that you’re scared that I’ll be killed by having faith in you?”

“It would be in your best interest to stay away from me,” Fumikage finally said, his voice falling flat and quiet. “I am destined to be a monster.”

'Mezou gets the call he fears, the one that says that Fumikage has lost control again. But this time it's different, in more ways than one.”

(I listened to Silence by Marshmello until I went insane in this is the result.  Featuring some of my super depressing headcanons about Shouji!  But it’s not awful.)

My hockey fics that I still like:

Hufflepuff Halfwit  

- ““Zhenya, the wind is coming from the west, I will not remind you again. You shut that window before the house stinks of factories!” She snapped and Geno stared at the owl as though maybe it would know what to do. But instead, it had given a little hoot and wiggled inside, only to drop it’s letter on the counter.

He turned his head very slowly back to look at his mother, who had suddenly gone very quiet. “It… just showed up, Mama. And um. It brought a letter.” He waited again, looked back at the owl who had begun to nose at the pirozhkis in interest and then looked back at his mother with the best puppy dog eyes he had ever attempted. “Can I keep it?”

(This is a part of my hockey/Harry Potter au that still legitimately haunts my dreams.  It’s basically a Sid/Geno in Hogwarts but I really love the world building I got to do with Koldovstoretz, the Russian school of wizardry.  Don’t read ‘On the Word of a Slytherin’ though, I’m not as proud of that one.)

The Prince  

- “What the fuck.” Matt breathed out, sitting back heavily onto his hotel bed as he stared at his phone.

‘This is Henrik.’ The text read. ‘I would like to meet you. I will book a room in Pittsburgh at your convenience. Let me know what time will work for you.’  - 

(Listen, it’s Henrik Lundqvist/Matt Murray smut, I feel like that is novel and interesting and worth your attention.  I wax poetic on goalies in this, as you do.)

The Zoo of Toronto 

- “No one missed it when a massive porcupine had shuffled in between the reporters with a single minded focus, pushing media away until it was able to grip onto Phil’s suit pants and try to pull itself up. He hadn’t been able to do more then besides pick the animal up before it could shred his pants to shreds and walk out of the locker room before the decision had been made with the Toronto media.

Phil Kessel was guilty.” 

(Not gonna lie, this is probably my favorite of the hockey fics I’ve written.  And it’s Phil/Carl, which is never found anymore but it was a good pairing.)

INCUBUS AU

I COME BEARING COLOURED ROUGH SKETCHES AND CHARACTER BACKSTORIES!!

- Based in Victorian era England -

(despite me knowing nothing about Victorians but hey ho.. if I did a Restoration au I would be ON that, but not Victorian idk anything about them... Weird how I make this unnecessarily harder for myself... I could base it in modern day if I wanted?? But no. Victorian aesthetic. Anyway, this was written at like 2am, so there's probably typos everywhere, but who cares?? I don't!)

Stuart Pot (b. 1865 AD - Victorian)

- Lives an upper class lifestyle. His father, David Pot, is a very famous inventor/engineer who started off with money from his parents anyway. His mother, Rachel Pot, does work in medical sciences/human biology on behalf of the Royal Society - though isn't recognised for her work as she's female, and was only granted access through a close friend (Frederick Cracker).

- Still lives with his parents at 23 years old (relatively normal at the time until marriage, especially after his head injury as a child calling for regular medical attention from his mother).

- Engaged to Paula Cracker (who I like and will NOT villainise no matter what you say!!!), which was arranged by his mother and her father (a highly respected fellow in the Royal Society). The engagement is a little complicated, as he has a habit of putting off the arrangements, to his mother's great annoyance. He and Paula are close friends, but neither can say that they love the other (like most engagements of their class). Paula, with his permission, sees other men in secret outside of their engagement. Whilst he similarly has her permission, he doesn't see other people, mostly due to his sometimes over-bearing parents and also his shy nature.

- His mother encourages him to go into the sciences, after his father's efforts to get him into engineering failed miserably. The connection to the Cracker's only assists with this. He sometimes talks to his mother's friends about medicine, as he has a small amount of interest in it, and they're experts anyway. Regardless, he always dreamed of being a musician, but he was told he couldn't by his mother. His family have a tradition of going to the music hall on the 23rd of every month (started on his birthday) because he likes to watch the singers. He also regularly goes to saloons by himself.

- He's mostly attracted to men, but has never been with anyone - hence his reluctancy to be legally bound to Paula straight off. As this is based in 1889, homosexual acts are a criminal offence (introduced in 1885), so obviously this is difficult for him, and causes him to be quite inhibited as a person. (Completely unrelated, but whilst researching this I found that it was illegal for a man to sleep with his deceased wife's sister, but, it was noted, not illegal to sleep with her first cousin. Mad.)

- He has blue eyes, until they turn black after he falls in love with Murdoc. They turn black as falling for an Incubus is sort of seen as a curse, so has side effects. Neither of them know this though, since Murdoc has never been loved before, and 2-D knows near to nothing about the occult anyway (he doesn't even really know what Murdoc is, but can tell he's not a virtuous creature by any means).

Murdoc (b. 666 BC - Brittonic Celt (sort of...) )

- An Incubus (which is a type of demon that feeds from sexual activity ;)) ). Like all demons, he's considered one of the many spawns of the devil. He feeds on fragments of a person's soul, and feeds once every other day - but can survive a month without feeding. Food doesn't provide sustenance and if he's fed it, his body will reject it and he'll vomit.

- Has to sleep, more than humans do (roughly 14 hours a day, usually from around 2 am to 4 pm). He usually sleeps in the morning as he's strongest from 9 pm up until 12 am after such it then starts to be considered early morning. In usual circumstances, he uses this time to find a mate and seduce them, sometimes entering their dreams to do so - sometimes this takes more than one night, but he'll never stay at it more than two nights, and will instead find a different, easier mate.

- If he plans on feeding off of a mate, he can't initiate the relation, or it doesn't qualify as the victim giving up their soul willingly. Therefore, to effectively feed, he needs to be the submissive one (Murdoc's a bottom and you can't stop me). He'll occasionally stay with a mate for a little while if it guarantees regular feeding, but can't stay indefinitely due to the side effects of his feeding often eventually resulting in a near-to-death state, and also the risks of being found/hunted. He can also get a person's soul from killing them, but because this is unwilling, it has side effects. If an Incubus/Succubus feeds this way regularly for a length of time, they'll eventually go insane, and other Incubi/Succubi will come and kill them out of instinct.

- Mates can be male or female, as Incubi (and Succubi) are bisexual. Murdoc hunts them out because he can sense lust, and Incubi/Succubi can tell the difference between certain types of lust. For example, he won't prey on someone lusting for a woman, because obviously he'd struggle a lot with that endeavour..

- (This is mostly based off stuff on Wikipedia) If someone who has done the sign of the cross within 6 hours touches him, their touch will burn him, hence this works as good Incubus and Succubus repellent. However, unlike other demons, he is unaffected by exorcisms (as it's his own body) or blessed items (as he doesn't respect the power of the church). (This isn't off Wikipedia, this is made up:) Also, he can't enter a church, and the Lord's prayer inflicts excruciating pain.

- His hands and feet are blackened up to the joints, he has glowing red eyes, pointed teeth, forked tail, and wings - which are all features of a demon. Unlike other demons, Incubi and Succubi have avian wings, not bat-like ones. Murdoc's resemble that of a raven, though there are many other variations. They also have longer tongues. His nose is broken and his front tooth on the right is chipped from being assaulted by a human man who didn't like him having relations with his wife, and was unafraid to punch a demon in the face (what a legend...)

- Doesn't really have any powers until the night window, where he can enter dreams and also perform telekinesis (though it isn't easy and takes a lot of effort, unless he's very angry, then it's a breeze). He's immortal and can't be killed by humans - can only be killed by other demons. Obviously he can fly, y'know, since he has wings... Otherwise he's just a weird looking guy who's been going about getting laid for 2.5 thousand years

- Once he falls in love (with Stuart), he gradually becomes more human. However, it isn't natural for demons to become human - so the process causes a lot of issues for him (gives him severe mood swings, makes him very irritable), and the physical changes tend to hurt a lot. First his feathers begin to fall, then his limbs fade to their normal colour and his eyes fade from red to brown (this bit isn't painful), his claws become brittle/break easily which can cause pain, his tail starts to grow shorter giving him growing pains. After this, no more changes can occur naturally, but the bones in his wings and his tail start to deteriorate severely, causing incredible amounts of pain. To relieve this, he'd have to cut them off, but as he becomes human he is able to die of blood loss/infection/go into shock so it'd be very risky, especially in a time where medicine is still underdeveloped. Furthermore, demons who become human are rejected by the devil and also looked down upon by all demons/monsters and may be killed out of spite.

.

And that's all I have so far - but I've started a fic, so I'll probably make up more as write it..

Do you have any weird au ideas?

You know, it surprises me, now that you bring it up, that I DON’T? I have some pretty out-there ideas for, say, Fabian or Haven, but I tend to keep Shaw very grounded. I certainly have AU ideas for him, but none of them are anything that I personally would qualify as “weird”?I guess this one idea I made up years ago would fit? Just barely, because it actually does seem to me like something that could totally happen by comics standards, but it is odder than anything I’ve got on my verses page. It was basically a fanfic idea that I never actually wrote (because I never ACTUALLY write anything) in which Shaw, disappointed with how his actual offspring turned out and wanting kids who were USEFUL and LOYAL, combined his genetics with the women of the Hellfire Club to produce a set of children called The Black Pawns. It was pretty much just an excuse for me to make a bunch of OC babies for my fave villains, but hey, what is fanfic for if not?I found the notes I saved for it (omg it’s from 2012) and this is what I wrote:“Sebastian Shaw created these four with genetic material from himself and four of the Hellfire Club's most powerful women: Tessa, Selene, Emma Frost, and Madelyne Pryor. Sure, making the kiddies the old fashion way would have been fun, but way too risky considering it would have their mothers aware of and involved with his plan, not to mention in possession of the unborn babies for nine months during which anything could happen. No, this was much safer and surer, and once the four were 'born' from their artificial wombs in his best-lab-money-can-buy, he started about controlling their lives so that, unlike Shinobi, they would be completely devoted to serving him. All have different powers, mostly resembling those of one or both parents. However, despite all having mothers that possessed telepathy to some degree or another, none of them are telepathic themselves. This was deliberately engineered by Sebastian Shaw, for though telepaths had been useful to him in the past, they had also proven to be treacherous, and given his vulnerability to psychic powers he thought it not worth the risk to have any so close to him again. They do not use individual codenames, and are all merely The Black Pawns. If they need to refer to one another in combat, they do it by the first letter of their mother's first name (so, for instance, Sylvia would be called 'T' because her mother is Tessa)Somehow, if Shaw dies, the rest of them will too. He, however, will be just fine if they die. This gives them incentive to protect him."What's with all the S-names, Shaw? Are you uncreative or just that egotistical?""Efficient, actually. They're easy to keep track of this way, and the subtle uniformity helps them equally subtlety against dangerous notions of individualism versus simply being my weapons and tools of profit. I did put a bit of thought into Soleil's, though, but I don't suppose you caught the irony."Sylvia Shaw is the daughter of Tessa. Her hair is cut in a very short pixie-bob, and though it is naturally black like that of her parents, she has bleached it to a pale platinum blonde. She also wears a long cerulean blue wig for her career as "Sylphide Swan" the fetish model. She posses Tessa's computer skills, plus technopathy and enhanced speed/strength/reflexes/endurance. She has a flat, emotionless affect, but does have likes and dislikes even though she appears to mostly lack a personality.Stanford Shaw is the son of Emma Frost. He is a blue-eyed brunet fellow who absorbs kinetic energy like his father and converts it into diamond skin like his mother. Unlike his mother, he can also transform specific parts of his body into diamond, such as just a fist or just his chest, without needing for his entire body to transform as well.Stephen Shaw is the son of Madelyne Pryor, and sports her red hair and green eyes. He possesses the power of pyrokinesis, with his uniquely-colored green flames being his trademark. He prefers to dress in sexually-revealing costumes, perhaps as a political statement, perhaps as a fetish, or perhaps simply for shock value.Soleil Shaw is the daughter of Selene. She has dark coloring like her parents, though softer features than theirs. Like her mother she can drain the life energy from others in order to keep herself young, and she has the additional gift of also being able to transfer this life energy to whomever she chooses with the same effects. Sebastian Shaw has been able to keep from aging because Soleil uses this gift for his benefit. Of all the Shaw-spawn, she is the most kindly and gentle, but unfortunately is also a "Daddy's Girl" with genuine affection for her father rather than just programmed obedience like the others, and thus is unlikely to rebel and leave his side any time soon.They are lead by Soledad Shaw, who is not a part of the project but the daughter that Shaw and Lourdes had before the latter's death. Not wanting Lourdes daughter to ever be in the danger she was, he kept Soledad completely separate from his life as a mutant and as Black King. Unlike Shinobi, she was a strong child, both in body and in character, and so he chose to build her character rather than insulting it as he did his son. He taught her the value of a dollar, of hard work, of doing whatever it took to succeed, and of staying the hell out of any type of mutant organization no matter what they were offering or what she believed in. Soledad is a teleporter like her mother, and also very skilled at hand to hand combat. She's close with Soleil, the only one she really considers to be her sibling and not a glorified science experiment. She has the same coloring as Soleil, but is more voluptuous and statuesque, as well as having curly hair while Soleil's is straight.”I feel like I also made a natural-born Shaw/Maddy son too at one point, I want to say his name was Addison? I think he was just another version of Stephen though since I also imagined him as being a green-eyed redhead who dressed just like his mother as the Goblyn Queen, because goddammit objectification isn’t just for women!Also, in the typical fashion of fangirls, I had a couple female OCs that I attached to Shaw, though being gay I always attached my female OCs to my male faves in roles that were NOT love interests; in the case of my OCs, it was an adopted daughter and an assistant who replaced Tessa after she left. The assistant wasn’t really weird in any way, but the daughter OC was pretty weird. Her codename was Black Swan (long before there was a canon Black Swan in Marvel) as in black swan theory because she had chaos powers that caused cause high-impact hard-to-predict events, typically mass scale destruction and chaos, to occur when her life is in danger in such a way that the chaos would save her. This is not a power that she can control; it cannot be summoned at will, nor stopped. It *only* comes when her life is in danger. You could cut off all her limbs and nothing would happen because that's not KILLING her. Granted, something might happen soon afterward if she started to bleed to death, but just the dismemberment itself wouldn't cause a black swan event to save her.I recall that she was also immortal, having been born in the Victorian era and frozen at 16 (probably when her powers manifested) and I think it’s either that she also fed on the chaos that her powers caused in order to heal her and keep her alive/young forever, or that this might have been the result of experimentation by Sinister in his original Victorian days when he was just getting started (because how can you have a mutant from the Victorian era WITHOUT Sinister being involved somehow?)  A black swan event may also have saved her life (and destroyed Sinister's lab in the process, freeing her) when she was about to die during one of his experiments.She was also insane as a result of both bad genetic luck (like me) and being unable to cope mentally with her long lifespan, she had very bad depression and delusions and dissociation, which I gave her as a way of coping with similiar issues I had at the same age, so she lived pretty much entirely clinging to fantasy that she was an absolutely normal girl, she wasn’t immortal, etc., and she maintained those delusions by forcibly forgetting her previous years and years over and over, she ALWAYS believed that she was a regular 16 year old no matter what era she was in, and she would mentally “reset” every time too much time had passed to maintain that fantasy. Because her real family was actually dead, she would accept any substitute for them to maintain her fantasy, and believe completely that this was her real biological family (before forgetting them in a few years or decades for a new one) Shaw took advantage of this by playing the role of her father, and then manipulating/orchestrating events that would place her life in danger so that her powers would activate and he could profit off the chaos that no one else expected----like a natural disaster or the like. She was very deliberately meant by me as a self-indulgent character to reflect my own mental health struggles while also getting to write about/imagine a version of me interacting with the X-Men and my fave villains and so on, but I was also self-aware of this and didn’t write her publicly anywhere, I just kept her to myself to write stuff that made me feel better. And I think I kept most/all characters IC too. But yeah, that’s um...these aren’t AUs that I have anymore, the Black Pawns are from 2012 and Black Swan is from 2010, but they are probably the oddest I’ve had that involved Shaw?

Project Nebula 2: To Escalate

Clouds blanketed the sky in its depressing, rainy glory. Under a wet black oak tree, I bathed in reeking rainwater. I had gotten there at dawn. I heard the splashing of feet in the puddles of water, approaching me. I looked up. It was Indigo, dressed as if he were to travel to the coldest regions of the Earth in a few minutes. Everything obscured in jackets and scarves. He sat at the edge of the bench.

"It's not even cold," I commented, "And I thought we were just talking."

"This is evidential!" he barked back, "If you want to know how you ended up like this, you need to look in more unexpected places."

I opened the tote bag. The absurdity of the items we bought ranged from little girl sticker books to Victorian-era kitchen utensils. Disjointed, irrelevant, and possibly helpful. I reached inside and took out an old P.D. Maybe 2001. The screen was covered in hardened dirt. I took out the stylus to scratch it off with the nib. Indigo's gaze was fixed on my eyes. He pulled on my jacket.

"Can I use your jacket?" he lowered his voice and whispered.

"I don't like showing my arms," I mumbled, and took off my jacket anyway, "We should get back home."

"My dad's visiting my mom, today, so we can go to my place."

The sky darkened. Indigo lived in a wooden, two-story house in the same condition as a cabin torn off the ground by a tornado. Doors had giant locks on them instead of a tradition lock in the knob. The floors were all wood, too. He and I sat in his family room on the couch. Just old books and pillows piled up to the ceiling. But the couch was the only sanitized furniture in the house.

His wild hair ticked my nose and neck as he rested his head on my shoulder. It was heavy, so I'm guessing he had a big brain in there. He rummaged through the apps and files on my phone, my personal stuff, but I put up with it.

"I wish I was part of the FBI," he murmured and cuddled me like I was a giant stuffed panda, "We'd have a team of people to solve it for us."

"I said you could take my jacket, not cuddle me," I chuckled under my breath. I don't understand why I laughed at that. I never said I wanted it to stop.

"Girls cuddle with me all the time; you're lucky it's me and not Harper."

"Liar; at least Harper is a girl."

In my head, potential responses bounced around and reached my lips but never spoken. The silence was a puppeteer pulling the strings of my legs to keep jumping and my arms to tremble, uncontrollably. But as this silence lingered, my growing patience depressed.

I've never been in the teacher's lounge. Or at least at this school. Only time was in the first grade by accident. I tidied up my uniform, the same thing Indigo wore when I was in Helix's car. I still think it's odd that, despite us meeting only days ago, I've already stayed over at his place. I pumped out my chest, put my legs together, and kept my hands behind my back. I stepped inside. A long polished, wooden desk in the middle with comfortable cushion chairs. Microwaves and coffee machines in every corner. There was another door with a plaque that read Student Council above it. I walked in and sat down in a beanbag chair in the corner.

"How professional, President," Harper announced from across the room, And out of nowhere like she spawned here in a video game.

"Well, I'm the president and I have complete control over everything that goes on in here," I asserted, and glared back. I've never been in charge of anything, and this was my only chance to make that clear.

"First, we all have a say; you know that! Second—"

She poured in a steaming cup of coffee into a clear, plastic cup and marched over to where I was sitting. She didn't trip over her feet or anything on the carpet, she didn't even miss a beat and moved in perfect harmony. Like I was the piece of meat at the end of maze left for a starving polar bear. From a few feet away, she launched the cup into the air and into my face. Hot coffee basically melting my face off. Of course, I'm exaggerating.

Xander shoved through the door with his back hunched over and his fists clenched up. But he was smiling.

"I'm quitting the role as vice president!" he declared, "Isn't that right, Peirson!"

"We all have to decide!" Harper shouted and grabbed his shirt collar, "And you don't even have a valid reason! Peirson can't make that kind of decision!"

"Everyone, get in your seats!" I screamed. No one reacted and continued to argue with each other. I threw my bean bag chair against Harper's leg and walked out the room.

I stormed out into the math department hallway. But I didn't pass the restroom. I stood up against the brick walls with my face buried in my hands. Every inch of my body was an impending explosion of boiling blood. My vision went double and air escaped my lungs. My chest looked like an inflating balloon. Indigo walked around the corner with the same looking tote back from the day prior. He took my hand.

"Tough day, wasn't it?" he laughed, "Harper, right?"

I grabbed him the shoulders and shoved him into the wall. With my voice still torn and scratched, I begged, "She threw hot coffee in my eyes! Did she always act so psychotic?"

"If you keep acting like this, everyone's going to think our student body president has gone mad!"

"I'm going to talk to her in private."

His faded smile contorted into a scowl. He grabbed my wrists and thrust my arms back down to my side. He shoved past me and marched out the same way he came from. Not even a goodbye. I couldn't tell if his anger was only an act and that I was supposed to read between the lines. I could still feel the sensation of his grasp like I was put in handcuffs and unable to move them. Despite that, I still desired to talk to Harper when the day ended.

Again, I was the fly on the wall. Observing the actions and words of the faceless students around me. Their identity meant nothing to me, only the nonsense complications they stir up for the week, kill off, then create a new situation to occupy their time. This time, I was the observer in the gymnasium. Every prepared, dedicated student did whatever they were told, throwing and kicking the football every time they had to. By my own logic, I am neither prepared or dedicated.

Helix was in the game, and of course was the best player. I kept my eye on him. And he kept his eye on me. Whenever he ran north, the side of the gym I was on, his eyes fixated on mine. And I felt guilty every time I reciprocated. From my arms to my legs to every hair on my body, I stood petrified. The whistle blew, and the students all parted.

"Hey, Peirson!" Helix yelled from the center of the room, "Why aren't you participating?"

"I don't—" I stopped myself before my shouting turned into a shriek.

"What was that?"

"Nevermind!"

Even with my head facing the lower half of the wall, I could still see Helix walking towards me, peripherally. I moved my head around a little and counted on my fingers to give off the illusion that I was thinking about something unrelated. Immediately, once we were breathing the same air, he slammed my back against the wall. His breathing was unsteady, almost like he was choking on thorns. His pupils shrunk to the size of a particle. His claws dug into my chest.

"What your real name?" he demanded.

"Peirson Ralston, you know that!"

"You know how I know you're lying?"

I stared at the floor to escape his devilish gaze. Students turned their heads. I swallowed my hot tears. It was that silence, again. Lifting our head, the tips of our noses touch. My skin was a burning stove top. My legs were gelatin melting under the flaming sun.

"You're not leaving that easily."

My feet wouldn't move up the steps. The door was inches away from my face. I left of the path and circled around the house like a stalking lion. Indigo had my only jacket, so my scrawny arms were exposed to the many onlookers that only existed in my head. Fog washed over me. I stared through the window of the laundry room.

"Mr. Lynch!" I bellowed and banged on the glass, "Is Indigo in there?!"

A stream of thick liquid trickled from my forehead and stained my lips. The world went stagnant as I dropped to my knees. Shards of stones sliced my palms. Trees, bushes, mist, the stones. . . They drifted into space.

Despite me wanting to enter, I didn't want him or his dad to see me, covered in bruises. I could feel my limbs going numb. Or it was all in my head. Someone opened the window. Indigo. He carried a laundry basket and set it on top of the washing machine. He maintained a straight face as he gave me a blank look.

"So, what did Harper say?" he asked, keeping his back facing me as he folded shirts fresh out the dryer.

"I didn't talk to her," I mumbled, "I didn't want to after that."

"After what?"

He turned around, saw my cut up arms and scarred neck. With a face of shock, he grabbed one of the white shirts from the dryer and ran out of the room. In mere seconds, he ran up behind me. He stretched the shirt around my right arm, which bled the most, and tied the ends into a complicated knot. Already, it wasn't holding up, as it began to thin and turn a deep, velvet color.

"It really isn't that bad, Indy," I pulled away.

"You yelled through my window," he stressed, "Clearly, you needed me for something."

I stared back down at the wet grass. His scrutiny created the feeling of authority as if he was critiquing every move I made. Deep down in my gut, I knew that I shouldn't have felt guilty of a backlash that wasn't my intention.

"Are you still mad at me?" I tripped backward from waking from my deep daydream.

"I. . . I wasn't mad. . . I'm just confused about all this," he explained.

"I'll explain ever—"

"I didn't offer to help, then you got beat up because I was selfish and got angry."

He and I gave each other a warm smile. A forced two smiles. It was like a little boy trying to make his mother a Christmas present at the last minute. A weird comparison, but that has happened to me before. His phone vibrated in his pocket and whispered, "It's Xander..."

He held his phone close to his mouth, constantly pressing the volume button to ensure it was mute. His back turned, he faltered his way back inside through the front door, leaving me stranded out in his backyard, leaving me to limp behind him. Childish. The thoughts stuck in the back of my head about what he was planning to do with me. I was okay with limping behind.