(no subject)

[nextinline]

Jay: After finishing up his home room and class scheduling, there are very few things that could make Tim happier than getting some food in his stomach. The school is still fairly empty-- not quite as busy as it is with the commuter students, and it doesn't take Tim too long to get down to the cafeteria. He grabs his typical plate of vegetables (and it's a heaping pile, really), and then lifts his head to find a seat. It takes a moment, but he locates that familiar mop of blonde hair and isn't all too surprised when Kellen is seated right next to Jesse. Approaching their table, he takes a seat across from the two, nodding as his greeting before munching on a carrot. "Where were you two last night?"
Jesse sees Tim approaching, so he offers a little wave, picking apart a grilled cheese sandwich. He pops a torn piece of bread into his mouth, about to smile at Tim but...then there's that question, and he wrinkles his nose. Back to being babysat. "Hey, Lint."


Jay: Though the droning of the priest that handles their homeroom class nearly put Kellen to sleep, he's reviving admirably over a plate of food that Jesse most certainly doesn't approve of; not only is it meat, it's processed, and probably loaded with nitrates and msg and other unhealthy things. Kellen doesn't seem to mind. He nods in greeting to Tim as he approaches, and that demand makes him snort in amusement. "Sorry, dad, didn't realize you were waitin' up." The grin he has takes the sting from the sarcasm of this statement.


Jay: Michael shares the same home room with Tim, and - now that they've had a night of something like bonding - doesn't feel to awkward in following after the other boy as he heads to the cafeteria, discussing the classes they'd been assigned along the way. Seeing Tim make a beeline for Jesse once the kid's spotted, Mike smirks to himself. Whatever Tim might claim, he's obviously a little obsessed with the kid. Staying silent for now, Mike returns Kellen's greeting with a wave and extends it to Jesse.


Jackie: Settling down onto his seat, Tim gives a look at Kellen and then to Jesse that isn't quite apologetic, but at least shows he acknowledges how he came across. He munches on another baby carrot, then flicks his hand a little bit as if that provides more description to his words. "There was a fire, near the chapel. Wasn't sure if that was you two or...something else, is all." Sure, Tim. Sure.


Jackie: Jesse snorts adorably for Kellen's words-- saying the thing he'd never say, before smiling some at Mike and then turning it to Tim. The mention of a fire confuses him-- quiet frankly, the entire night confused him, and he cranes his neck to the side to look at Kellen. "We...didn't start any fire. Right?"


Jay: Of course, Kellen has by now met up with his brother, to discuss classes and just touch base, since Leech is just as overbearing towards him as Tim is towards Jesse, if not more so. He manages to look mystified by Tim's news, anyway, squinting one eye in question. "A fire? When? There wasn't any fire when we were there." He glances at Jesse and nods at the query. "Maybe that faery we ran into was feeling pyromaniacal after we left?"


Jay: Ness, not bothering with food for the time being, flips the chair next to Tim around and straddles it backwards. "Whatever started it, we took the rap." Motioning with his head towards Tim when he says 'we'. "Got told off by a dude in a black dress and then got dragged down to the basement."


Jackie: Jesse's eyes move from Kellen's face to Tim's, and then scan over to Mike's. And it all excites him to the point that he pops up a bit in his seat, shifts around a bit like he just can't contain himself. "What? Really? Dude," a quick glance to his room mate, then to Tim. "We're totally on to something. I bet it had something to do with the weird noises we heard. I mean, come on."


Jackie: Tim sideglances Mike as he talks, nodding as if to confirm what he said. He isn't at all surprised by Jesse's reaction, because he's always been into weird shit like that, but he doesn't buy into it as easily. "What were you guys going out, anyways?"


Jay: Kellen starts to laugh, before realizing that Jesse is serious - that Jesse took him seriously. Still, a grin remains on his face and in his tone. "Was it maybe St. Elmo's Fire?" He looks at Tim and Mike in question, an eye squinted, and Michael snorts his own amusement. "Nah, it wasn't. It was pretty boring fire, just torchin the grass and little weeds near the chapel's cemetary. Hardly anything at all, so if someone - or something? - set it on purpose, it was an underachiever." His expression switches to a mild scowl. "I tried to tell the fuckin' priest that, but the bastard wouldn't listen."


Jackie: "It was totally a spirit or something. If it was someone else, we would've seen them. Or heard them." Crouching down into his shoulders a bit, Jesse lowers his voice, as if this is some big secret. "Something weird is going on. And I'm gonna find out what."


Jackie: Tim rolls his eyes a bit at Mike, but it's mostly out of amusement, no real venom behind it. "Well, to be fair to the priest-- we were out after curfew. And right next to the fire." Now grabbing a stalk of celery, Tim picks at the vegetable with his nail to rid it of the stringy membrane part. "But...back to the point. What were ya doing out?"


Jay: "Ahhh..." Kellen looks a bit sheepish for Tim's repeated question, scratching at his furry spiked hair. "Couldn't sleep, so I thought exploring would be a better use of our time? We did run into something, it was hella bizarre. These trees were all moving, but you couldn't see anything moving them. And they were rowan trees." He nods emphatically, as if this has meaning for anyone but him and, by proxy, Jesse.


Jay: Apparently disinterested in phantom tree-movers, Michael cocks an eyebrow in Tim's direction. "To be fair to the priest? Why the fuck bother? He wouldn't be fair to us." Still glowering some, Michael abruptly stands up and heads across the room, presumably to acquire food.


Jackie: Tim murmurs back over his shoulder as Mike dismisses himself, "Get used to it." and then refocuses his attention to Kellen. He finishes stripping the celery and then munches on it, keeping the uneaten part in his gasp instead of putting it back down on his plate. "Rowan trees?" He shakes his head a little bit, because he has little to no interest in whatever these two have concocted in their heads. "It was probably the wind, or something."


Jackie: Jesse scoots forward more, voice no longer in a whisper. "No, Lint. I mean, we would've felt the wind. They were just...moving. It was really creepy. Seriously."


Jay: Kellen watches Ness walk off, for no really good reason, before refocusing on Tim. "No way. The rest of the trees weren't moving, and even the rowans just moved one at a time, like someone was walking through them. And some of the branches on the ground broke, we saw them, and there wasn't anything there." He stuffs an eggroll into his mouth whole, chews and swallows in record time, then finishes. "Besides, a place like this is bound to have a few spirits around, or something. There are a lotta graves by the chapel, and the building's been here, like, forever."


Jackie: Tim continues to look at Kellen skeptically, finishing off that celery only to move to another carrot. "...what, you two like the ghost busters or something?"


Jackie: The question immediately makes Jesse smile, and he tears off a piece of his sandwich to flick at Lint's head. "That's right." After it smacks him in the forehead, Jesse grabs the piece and pops it into his mouth. "Besides, what were you two doing out?"


Jackie: Tim can only blink when that food hits his face, the wrinkles his nose and tries to hide a smile because...that's so typical Jesse. Taking another munch off his carrot, he flicks the end piece to hit Jesse's nose, nodding at the two boys in front of him. "Looking for you two."


Jay: That suggestion gets a surprised laugh from Kellen, carefree and infectious as always. "Hell no, have you seen their outfits? We got way more style than that." He readdresses himself to his meal, which is an atrocious combination of chinese and italian styles, and finishes it in very little time. However, when Tim speaks again, the remaining glimmer of amusement in Kellen's bluegreen eyes fades. "Oh, shit, really? That blows...hope you didn't get in too much trouble?"


Jay: Mike returns with a plateful of chili-cheese fries, dropping into his vacated seat in time to hear Kellen's response. "Nah, just threatened with death and disembowelment by that weird short guy who lives in the basement. Guess he was too tired to follow through, though."


Jackie: Jesse's face falls a bit, both for Tim's words and for Mike's, looking partially fearful for the later words. His eyes snap to Tim, as if for confirmation.


Jackie: Tim, looking at Mike as if to say "Really?", he then glances back at Jesse reassuringly and then addresses Kellen. "It was fine. No biggie. Mr. Carnivore over here likes to exagerate, it seems."


Jay: Michael only offers a quick grin in return for Tim's look, focusing on his food. Kellen doesn't look too worried for Mike's words, though - if Leech threatened, he'd probably follow through - and he manages a smile when Tim elaborates. "I'm glad. I've heard, ahhh...punishments can get pretty harsh here? Although some of what I've heard has gotta be a lie."


Jackie: "Probably not a far stretch from the truth," Tim concedes, taking a sip from his water before stuffing some more vegetables into his mouth. "I never got anything too bad, but...I've seen some of the equipment. There's no way it's legal."


Jackie: Of course, typically, Jesse's eyes go wide, and he looks all the more confused and bewildered. "Punishments? What, is detention not good enough or something?"


Jay: Kellen tilts his head curiously. He's seen some of the equipment, as well, but he's fairly certain Leech only keeps some of it for intimidation - or nostalgic value. Knowing his brother, he can't imagine Leech inflicting some of the more vicious punishments, but on the other hand, he hasn't known him all that long. The train of thought is derailed by Jesse, and Kellen snorts. "If detention were good enough, we wouldn't have ended up here." Ness lifts his soda in toast to that comment, his mouth too full to speak, and Kellen obligingly taps his own can against Ness'. "So, did you guys pick your electives today? What're you taking?"


Jackie: Tim can see the way Jesse's thoughts process for Kellen's words-- Jesse isn't one to get in trouble, he's just in a rather unfortunate situation. Tim nudges him under the table with his foot, and it snaps Jesse out of that daze-- the younger boy just smiles brilliantly and finishes the rest of his sammich before speaking. "I've got...philosophy, biology. Umm, creative writing, history, and guitar. Guitar one, I think."


Jackie: Tim finishes his plate, save for a few untrustworthy florets of broccoli, and nods his head in appreciation before adding on. "I think I've got romantic lit, pre-calc, physics, Guitar 2 and...something else. That I can't remember." Which earns a loose shrug from Tim.


Jay: Mike wipes at his mouth briefly with a napkin before responding, nodding. "Yeah, I'm takin' guitar two, too. Then I've got creative writing, and I'm required to take some bullshit anger management class, some bible shit, and the basics. I think I'm in that physics class with you." He specifies 'you' by pointing his fork at Lint. "What about you?"


Jay: "Sounds like we're all in the same guitar class, 'cept Jesse." Kellen smiles for that, because it's nice knowing people. He's a social sort. "I'm taking a drawing class, basic literature, biology, history, and algebra, too, I think? And something about God. Then I'm a teachers' aide for one period." Which really just means he'll be getting high with Leech before lunch every day.


Jackie: Jesse pouts for not being a part of their class, but the sadness quickly passes when he realizes that he probably has Kellen in his biology class. "At least I know some people in my classes. How much would it suck to not know anyone? Seriously."


Jackie: Tim quirks his head for that rhetorical question, since he did just that two years ago, but then he remembers what Michael said and he turns his head to the side to look at the other boy. "Anger management?"


Jay: "A lot." Kellen responds emphatically; he remembers moving to Jersey when he was ten, and how alone he felt for the first few days of school. "With a school this size, we'll probably know everyone soon, though." He wasn't going to question Ness' apparent anger issues, but since Tim does it, he looks curious for the answer.


Jay: But in response, Michael merely gives a supposed-to-be enigmatic smile and polishes off the rest of his fries. Pushing away his tray, he lifts his arms above his head to stretch his back, then subsides with a little groan. "So, what now? We wait until next week to start classes, right? When the other kids show up?"


Jackie: Mike's avoidance isn't lost on Tim, and he can only watch the other boy curiously for a moment before flicking his eyes back to Jesse and Kellen. But...since the other boys are also new, Tim shrugs his shoulders and sits back a bit, no longer hovering over his food "They have other orientations and stuff. Tours. Mini sessions for clubs you can join. I don't know." He waves a hand around dismissively. "All of that. It's kind of lame."


Jay: Rolling his eyes for that, Kellen also sits back. "Well, since there isn't shit going on right now, I propose we convene a tribal meeting and smoke the peace pipe." With that, he stands up, collecting the debris from his meal and moving to throw it away. Michael seems to approve of this idea, and follows Kellen's lead in cleaning up. "Sure, I could use a nap. Didn't sleep much last night."


Jackie: Nodding in agreement with Kellen and Mike, Tim pushes himself away from his plate and starts clearing up the (small) mess he made. He's not much of a pot smoker, but he doesn't want to not join in on whatever bonding a toke session may create. "I'm gonna grab a few things from my gym locker. I'll meet you back in the dorms?" And with that, he departs.


Jackie: Jesse nods enthusiastically for Kellen's suggestion, also clearing up his mess and scratching at his hair. "Sometime soon, I'll find a way to get my own weed and won't have to rely on you all the time."


Jay: "Nah, man, it's not a big deal. I can provide." Kellen grins, nods to Tim agreeably and, after hefting his backpack over a shoulder, leads the way up a couple flights of stairs to the dorm hall. He figures smoking in their dorms isn't too much of a risk: no one would expect them to be so blatant about it. So he pushes open the door to his and Jesse's dorm and drops his backpack on his own bed, before starting to rifle through its contents to find the baggie of joints in it.


Jackie: "But that's hella rude." Yes, because clearly Jesse cares about weed smoking manners. Following his room mate up the stairs, Jesse makes his way into their room, jogging a bit once he's through the door to canon ball into his bed. Perhaps the impact will make the mattress a bit more comfortable. "How do you get your weed in here, anyways? They searched me pretty well."


Jay: "Ahhh..." Kellen manages to make himself sound distracted, still digging through his backpack as he speaks. "I told ya I got family in Boston, right?" His tone seems to imply that these unknown family members are able to provide him with drugs, perhaps by visiting. The time seems right for some misdirection, so he triumphantly emerges from the depth of his bag, weed in hand, and immediately turns to toss the baggie of joints at his roommate. "Do the honors, yeh? I gotta piss."


Jay: Mike ambles into the room a few paces behind the younger boys, and peers over the fairly blank walls before moving to take over the chair for Kellen's desk. Like before, he turns it around to straddle it and crosses his arms over the back, resting his chin on them. "Funny how drugs are always easier to find when you're incarcerated somewhere..."


Jackie: Jesse is about to question that even more, but then Kellen is tossing the weed at him, and he's immediately distracted. Sneaking a joint out of the baggie, Jesse scoots a bit more onto his bed, enough to where he can rest his back against the wall. Fitting the joint to his lips, he furrows an eyebrow when he realizes he's lacking a lighter. Crawling over his bed, he reaches into his nightstand to retrieve one. Arching an eyebrow at Mike, he questions innocently. "Where else have you been?"


Jay: Michael smiles a little oddly at Jesse, seeming to contain more amusement than he shows. He leans back long enough to dig into his hip pocket, then offers his own lighter to the kid. "Why do you think I've been someplace else? The drug traffic in jails and places like that is a well-documented fact, y'know."


Jackie: Flicking a lighter against the joint, Jesse gets the joint lit and takes a few puffs from it to make sure it's ignited before inhaling fully. Holding the smoke in his lungs, he pulls the joint from his mouth, crawling back across the bed to hand the joint over to Mike. "Oh, come on." Puffing the smoke towards the ceiling, he grins a little bit. "I'm not as stupid as I look."


Jay: Kellen returns at this juncture, refastening his belt belatedly. If he wasn't in the room, still he could hear the conversation, and he looks at Mike curiously as he drops onto the end of the bed. "You musta been locked up somewhere. Because if you paid for that tattoo, you got owned." He looks pointedly at Mike's arm as the older boy lifts the joint to his lips.


Jay: "You don't look stupid at all." Mike offers Jesse another smile, this one much more charming and not apparently faked. He takes the joint and hits it, and thus is unable to respond to Kellen's insult by more than narrowing his eyes dangerously. When he's done drawing on it, he leans over and socks Kellen semi-gently in the shoulder before passing that joint off, and speaks when he's released the smoke. "Fuck you, pretty boy. You're just jealous 'cause it's true." He pets a hand lovingly over his forearm and the tattoo in question, a heart and banner emblazoned with 'heart breaker'.


Jackie: Jesse kind of looks at Mike oddly for that charming smile, almost as if it doesn't quite work on him (immune to anything sexual, really). Already feeling a little bit of relaxation from the pot, Jesse flops down onto his belly on the bed, squinting a bit at the tattoo. "Back to my original question." And then he smiles, all bright and dazzling and innocentJesse, and really its quite undeniable-- but in a completely different manner from Mike's undeniability.


Jackie: (that's not a word, but whatever)


Jay: Cocking his head to the side slightly, Michael blinks at Jesse a few times, and yes, it's undeniable, and maybe he can understand a little bit why Tim hovers around this kid. But he shakes his head, doing his best to dismiss the effect and the question at the same time. "Yeah, I been locked up a couple times. Nothin that really mattered, though."


Jay: Kellen leans to the side belatedly to try to avoid that smack, but he's too slow, and too intent on taking the joint to care. He takes a couple of quick hits before continuing the rotation, releasing the smoke a moment later with a laugh. "Sure. Ya been breaking hearts in lock-up, hey? Pretty impressive thing to put on your resume." This time he dodges as a defensive measure, pulling his heels onto the bed and crab-walking along it out of Ness' reach.


Jackie: Jesse accepts Mike's answer, but he keeps that information in the back of his head, probably to gossip to Tim about in private. "Still landed you here, yeah? Probably mattered a little bit, at least." Plucking that joint from Kellen, Jesse takes another deep hit, allowing for his eyes to go cross eyed a bit as he watches the end of the joint light up as he inhales. Keeping the smoke in his lungs, he lazily offers it back to Michael. "Your tattoo reminds me of the movie 'Cry Baby'." Andddd he probably doesn't realize how offensive that could sound.


Jay: Ness extends his right arm, sort of cocked, like he's going to try to hit Kellen regardless, but he desists when he sees the kid is out of range. "I break hearts everywhere I go, boy." He sounds only half-serious about this, and doesn't look all that irritated by the teasing. Leaning the other way, he snags the offered joint and nods to Jesse, apparently taking the compliment the way it was meant.


Jay: Kellen, on the other hand, has never heard or seen of this Cry Baby movie, but he's just stoned and chipper enough that Jesse's comment makes him laugh, loud and contagious. "Ahhhh! That's totally your new name, Mike. Michael Cry-Baby Ness. I proclaim it so!" And then he's laughing again, and Mike just gives him a sort of condescending look of resignation.


Jackie: Once he's no longer holding the joint, Jesse folds his arms under himself, using them as a resting place for his chin. He snickers some for Kellen's words, and even more for Mike's reaction-- the resignation looks like something he doesn't do too often, which makes it all the better. "He'd have to get a tear drop tattoo by his eye if that's gonna be his new nickname."


Jackie: Tim, having swung by his gym locker to snag his baseball glove and a few old shirts, slips into Jesse and Kellen's room without bothering to drop his items off in the next room. Instead, he just meanders over to Jesse's bed, tosses his shirts on the nearby desk and makes himself comfortable on the mattress, back against the wall. Jesse shifts to make room for Tim, chirping up playfully. "'Bout time, Pookie." Which...just gets a snort of a response from Tim.


Jay: That suggestion only makes Kellen laugh harder, curling into a ball on his bed, and when Tim walks in, Mike gives up on passing the joint to Kellen and instead hands it off to his newly returned roommate. "Still, I guess 'Crybaby' is better than 'Pookie' if we're picking nicknames." More laughter from Kellen, but it abruptly stops when the sound of bells tolling comes through the window from the chapel. The kid sits up, staring out the window, speaking - probably to himself. "Shit, is that complin or the angelus?" He skitters around on his mattress to read the alarm clock on his bedside table and, without further explanation, vaults off the bed and scampers out the door.


Jackie: Tim takes that joint, but doesn't hit in-- instead, he just hands it over to Jesse, who takes it immediately. As Mike speaks, Tim looks at Jesse pointedly, adding on a "Fucking seriously" to emphasize the point of...how horrible a nickname Pookie is.


Jackie: Jesse hits the joint, but then realizes that Lint hasn't-- so he flips and turns about until he's on his back, head in Lint's lap, and he raises the joint to Tim's lips and whines. "C'mooooon." After a moment of watching the boy in his lap, Tim obliges, taking a drag while its still in Jesse's lap. Grinning triumphantly, he's about to turn and grin at Kellen, but...then he's darting out the door and gone. "...where's he going?"


Jay: Michael smirks a little, because his nickname is better, but is distracted as well when Kellen bolts from the room. For Jesse's question, he can only shake his head. "Fuck if I know. He's your roommate." Leaning over, Mike retrieves the joint from Jesse, adding a quiet "Thankfully." before hitting it. Because Tim might be laconic and sort of boring, but Kellen's just fucking weird.


Jackie: Tim exhales the smoke up towards the ceiling, watches as it wafts around the light fixture before eventually dissipating. He doesn't pay much attention to Kellen bolting out of the room, save for the slow and lazy glance to the door as he bolts out of it. Once he's out of the room, Tim leans his head back to rest it against the wall, closing his eyes in the process.


Jackie: On the other hand, Jesse sits up a bit more after that joint is taken, wrinkling his nose for Mike's words. "Shut up. Kellen's cool." And, as if to emphasize the point. "Don't forget whose pot you're smoking."


Jay: Mike quirks an eyebrow at Jesse's defensiveness, handing the pot in question back to the kid. "I didn't say he wasn't. I'm just sayin' I'm not sure I could live with him." Leaning back, Ness stretches his arms above his head and bends a little, trying to crack his back. "So, what, we've got a week or so til classes start? Are we just supposed to sit around?"


Jackie: Jesse flips a hand in the air as if to dismiss it all-- because he'd much rather room with Kellen than some dude who sleeps with a knife under his pillow, and then outstretches and arm so he can hit that joint one more time.


Jackie: Yawning quietly, Tim almost suggests nap time since he's not that big into weed and it makes him a bit sleepy. But he resists, instead squints one eye open at Mike, talking lazily. "They've got some things going on throughout the day, to get everyone ready. Some campus tours, sports practices. I'm sure we'll have mass some time today."


Jay: Yes, but he's forgetting the part where that dude also sleeps naked. Surely it evens out. Groaning some for Tim's response, Mike once again folds his arms over the back of his chair and buries his face against them. "Mass. For the fuck of God." That this is part of his life now is too depressing to contemplate for long, so he lifts his head again, taking the joint from Jesse to kill it.


Jay: Kellen returns about that time, maybe giving Ness a brief odd look for his choice in interjections, but not saying anything about it. He carries a few pieces of paper, stapled together, which he tosses towards Jesse before diving back onto his own bed. "Check that out - I found it a while ago." The papers are a news article, printed from a computer, detailing the results of a fire that occurred on the property shortly after it was converted into a school. But apparently, Kellen's too impatient to let Jesse read it. "I guess they had trouble putting it out, since this place is so far from fucking anywhere, so that building was destroyed. I think it might've been near were the theater is now, though." This is emphasized with a pointed look from Kellen.


Jackie: Tim snorts for Mike's words, probably because he agrees with him and he's starting to catch on to that certain Ness way of articulating things. Jesse hands over the joint with a little half grin, because he's already picturing Michael as a choir boy. And that grin turns into a laugh, which quickly turns into a giggle fit that he can't stop-- he just curls onto his side, face in Lint's tummy, as he laughs and laughs and laughs, until he's hit with the papers. Trying to control his laughter, which probably earned a fraction of a smile from Tim, Jesse beams a bit at Kellen's return, immediately flipping through the papers. "What's this?" Of course, he quickly scans over the article, almost fully returning to his prior composure, and sits up all excited. "What? Seriously?" A little flail for emphasis. "Holy shit!"


Jay: "Right?" Kellen is obviously pleased with Jesse's reaction, and if not quite as excited himself, is at least exuberant about it in that typical Kellen way. "It says there were a couple of people who were suffering from burns and smoke, but I couldn't find any follow-up about whether they died or not. But!" And then his attention wanders, realizing that the joint he lit before leaving is no longer around. So he shrugs, digs out another and lights it, before carrying on. "But, if anyone did die, maybe that's what we ran into last night."


Jackie: Jesse squirms a bit on the bed to get comfortable, clearly unable to contain his excitement. His eyes continue to read over the article, looking up periodically as the other boy talks. "That totally makes sense. I mean, it had to be something, ya know? We both saw it." If Tim's eyes were open, he'd be rolling them. Instead, he just shifts more on the bed until he's laying down, crooking an arm over his eyes.


Jay: Michael seems a little bewildered by this discussion, maybe glancing at Tim for explanation, but receiving none. Kellen nods agreeably for Jesse's words, taking a couple of preliminary drags off the new joint to get the flame to catch well before responding. "Definitely. And, according to that article, this main building was an orphanage before it turned into a school. Like, there were priests and monks here to look after the orphans. So there was bound to be some fucked-up shit going on there, too."


Jackie: "Dude, this is nuts. I knew it. I knew it! I knew the second I walked in here that something was up. Where'd you find this?" Finishing the article, he turns around a bit in the bed to smack Lint with the papers until he's ruffled out of his relaxed state. "Lint, seriously. Read this. I freakin' told you something was going on." Still laying down, Tim looks at Jesse in a 'what the fuck, really' kind of way, taking the papers but not making much move to read them. He peers over Jesse to look at Mike, gauging his reaction.


Jay: Kellen, too occupied with smoking, only nods energetically in response to Jesse. Mike meets Tim's look and raises him some incredulity. "So, you guys're trapped in a high security boarding school with a bunch of criminals and psychopaths and freaks, and you gotta look for reasons to find it even more screwed up?" This kind of sounds like a rhetorical question, but on the other hand, Ness appears to want an answer.


Jackie: Tim motions to Mike with the hand holding the papers, sitting up a bit, but still resting back on his bent elbows. "Exactly." Jesse pouts a bit for that, flicking those papers and looking between Michael and Tim. "You two didn't see what we did! It was there. It was real. It was something!" Turning to look back more fully at Mike, Jesse tilts his head. "You haven't felt anything weird while in here? Haven't thought you'd seen something?"


Jay: Finally exhaling, Kellen offers the joint mechanically to Ness, the closest one to him. "There was a website that compiled a lot of the Massachusetts newspapers, and I searched it for this area. I bookmarked the page, so we can look for more."


Jay: Michael, waving away the joint, offers a comprehensive snort in return for Jesse's questioning. "Kid, I been here two days, and for half that time I've been drunk or high. Everything here feels weird, and looks worse."


Jackie: Jesse nods in appreciation of Kellen's words, because he's totally dedicating his spare time (during the day, at least) to researching this online. "We should look into it more. I wonder if the school library has old year books or something? Maybe we could find something there." Because clearly he's already obsessed with this, totally.Turning back around to look at Tim, he pouts a little bit because the older boy has returned to his laying position, papers resting on his stomach. When Mike speaks up, it's Tim--not Jesse-- who responds. "Don't call him "kid". You know what his name is."


Jay: Kellen might have been about to say something when Mike speaks, but instead he gets a sort of thoughtful and perhaps slightly mischievous look, and closes his mouth. Drunken and skeptical dorm-mates could have promising possibilities. Since no one else seems to require any more weed, Kellen takes a couple more drags before putting it out on the underside of his shoe, to save for later. "I haven't looked at the library at all. They're bound to have something. We should look later, after that orientation bullshit."


Jay: "Force of habit. Sorry. Jesse." Mike quirks an eyebrow at that response, but doesn't look particularly apologetic, since he didn't intend to be condescending with the term. Standing, he replaces the chair beneath Kellen's desk. "I'll leave you all to your ghost-hunting. I need a shower."


Jackie: Tim doesn't really react to Mike's apology, and chooses to ignore the look Jesse is giving him. It's a look eerily similar to one he'd give his mother whenever she'd speak for him, even when it wasn't necessary.


Jackie: Jesse then smiles some at Kellen, scooting up and off the bed because he's a little ball of energy. "I wouldn't be surprised if there's a whole lot of messed up stuff lurking around, ya know? This place is super old, and...seems like it attracts bad stuff. We should get video cameras and record stuff at night!"


Jay: Kellen offers Ness a wave as he walks through to the bathroom, still mostly focused on his conversation with Jesse. "I wonder if we'd need one with night vision? It seems like they always use them in the ghost-hunting shows, but that might just be for dramatic effect..." Never mind where they'd acquire a video camera at the school.





Jay: Approaching the somewhat shabby field - a combination soccer field and baseball pitch, and apparently serving for any sort of team sport that requires one - Michael is doing his flat best not to be too unreasonably disgruntled. He's not sure what was worse; the meeting with the school counselor who insisted that attempting to join a school team would display his proper 'spirit of cooperation' , or the awkward conversation following it when he had inquired of his roommate about the baseball team he was so attached to. Tim had been pretty dubious about Michael's ability, but no more so than Michael himself. Even as a kid, he wasn't one for sports of this sort. But he strides onto the edge of the field and peers over the struggling grass, empty as yet, pausing to wait for his roommate to appear.


Jackie: Tim is already tucked away near the home team bench, a bag of mitts, bats, and balls resting up against the metal fence. True to form, he was fairly surprised when Michael approached him about the sport-- mostly because he didn't come across as much as a sports guy. More like a smoking-under-the-bleachers kind. Since classes haven't started yet, and the team doesn't hold official practices yet, no one else is at the field. Lifting his head when he hears, distantly, someone else approaching, he squints a bit into the sunlight and then calls out. "Hey, Mike. Over here."


Jay: At Tim's call, Michael turns to look around and belatedly spots him across the field. So he crosses himself, unsurprisingly smoking as he comes, and giving Tim a nod of greeting once he gets close enough to speak. "Hey." He drops the smoking filter and squishes it under his boot, then looks at Tim with a smile that's a little self-depreciating. "Thanks for not bringing the rest of your team to witness my lack of ability."


Jackie: Riffling through that bag, Tim grabs for his own mitt, fitting his hand into it and adjusting the leather with his other hand as Michael approaches. He ignores the smoking, knowing it'd be hypocritical to scold him for it, and chuckles a bit for that response. "What're you talking about? They're changing in the locker room right now." There's a quick, rare grin in there, and he flips the cap on his hat so that the bill faces forward to help block the sun.


Jay: Michael only gives a mild glare, for the sake of show; he's glad Tim has loosened up to the point of joking with him. At least, he thinks it was a joke. "Oh, God, uniforms." He sighs and shakes his head, just recalled that that bit of unpleasantness. "Let's both hope I'm miserable enough that you can't accept me. Where do we start?"


Jackie: Tim stands there, still amused, and then rakes his eyes over Michael-- he's certainly not dressed for baseball, but he doubts that the other boy owns clothing that would even qualify. "This isn't a try out and get cut kind of league. Anyone can play." Which really, is kind of depressing to Tim, so he adds on. "...we'll work on getting you some proper attire later." Leaning back down into his bag, he snags another glove and tosses it towards Michael. "Let's warm up, yeah?"\


Jay: Sighing again, with more vigor this time, Michael at least doesn't fail to catch the mitt. "Can't you change that? I mean, you're the captain. And aren't those pants really uncomfortable?" Not that he'd complain otherwise, since they show off Tim's ass quite sufficiently. "Ball players on TV are always adjusting their shit; I figured the pants must be really constricting. Or maybe that's why they're called ball players, and not athletes or something else."


Jackie: Tim snorts his amusement for that, actually shaking his head as he grabs a few balls and starts out towards the grassy area of the field. "They're easy to run in." Looking down at his own attire, sure he's got the pants on-- but at least he's got a non descript t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and not looking like a total baseball dork. Expecting Mike to keep his distance, Tim turns around to face him, pounding his non-gloved hand into the mitt to loosen the material up a bit. "And really, I'm surprised you've watched baseball at all." And with that, he lightly throws one of the balls at Mike, the other one getting half tucked into one his pant pockets.


Jay: "Are they easy to take off?" This is asked in all apparent sincerity, with an expression only of mildly curiosity. Following behind Tim, Mike absently fits the glove onto his hand, watching his fingers move in their weird confinement until Tim speaks again to interrupt his reverie. He lifts his head, and only barely moves his mitt in time to catch the ball - but catch it he does. "Why do you say that? I'm not manly enough for baseball? You suppose I sit around watching General Hospital?" Retrieving the ball from his glove, he tosses it back at Tim with an easy motion, barely but instinctively remembered from childhood.


Jackie: Tim puts his glove up near his chest as he waits for Mike to throw the ball back, and thinks over that question more for the meaning behind it rather than the answer he supplies. "As easy as any, I guess." Opening and closing his gloved hand (and in such making the glove open and close a bit), Tim catches that ball easily, leaning a bit to reach it. He isn't that surprised that Mike caught the ball, but he's mildly impressed of his throw, almost expecting it to be a wussy flop into the ground. "Didn't say you weren't manly. Just...don't come across as a sports guy." He waits a moment, thinking, and then throws the ball back. "More like a motorcycle guy, or something."


Jay: Michael doesn't pursue the question of Tim's pants, for now, except maybe in his own head. The next throw requires Ness to take a few steps back and reach to catch it, but he manages, again. "Actually, I do ride, but my father and brother are both big on baseball. I might've even played some when I was a kid." He throws the ball back with a smoother underhanded toss this time, adding only when it gets near to Tim (perhaps in an attempt to throw him off his game): "And I love me some General Hospital."


Jackie: "Seems like it. You've got a decent arm." And he means that sincerely, throwing the next ball with a little more force. Once Michael catches it, Tim adjusts the cap on his head again, wiping away the faint sweat on his forehead before replacing the cap. Going to reach for that underhand toss, he does catch it-- but he stumbles in the process, not falling down, but certainly requiring more steps. Picking his head up, he looks at Michael from under that brim, his one word coming across like an amused question. "Seriously?"


Jay: There's a snort of laughter for that first comment, but Ness doesn't bother to make an innuendo of it, as easy as it would be to say it gets a lot of exercise. And he only grins unrepentant for the following question, with a dismissive shrug. "More entertaining than The Price is Right, anyway. There wasn't a lot to watch in juvie."


Jackie: Tim actually laughs at that, a little chuckle as he takes a few paces back, creating more distance between Micheal and himself. Reaching back, he throws the ball at Mike, speaking once he has his footing back. "Motorcycles and soap operas. Makes sense."


Jay: Michael catches the ball, tossing it back overhand this time since Tim backed up, and grins slightly. "Does it? Not sure if I should be flattered or offended by that." He cranes his head from one side to the other to try to pop his neck, apparently warming up more now.


Jackie: Reaching out for that ball, he has to take a few quick steps to the side to snag it, fitting it into his glove. He keeps that small grin on his mouth, still amused and certainly warming up to his room mate. "It hardly makes sense." Another throw of the baseball, and another adjustment to his hat. "Which, I'm guessing, probably makes sense, in talking about you."


Jay: This one is harder to catch, and Mike actually has to move more quickly backwards to be able to hop up and catch it. He pauses to tilt his head and raise an eyebrow, looking not unlike a confused puppy. "I make perfect sense. I'm a very simple sorta guy." And it sounds like he actually means it. Taking a half-step back, Michael fires the ball back at Tim much harder this time, some sort of return for the more difficult catch he had to make.


Jackie: "Simple?" Tim ponders that a moment, using his right hand to scratch at his left forearm. "That switchblade fits that description perfectly." When that ball comes at him, Tim reaches that glove out quickly, the sound of the contact echoing enough for it to travel to Mike's ears. Letting the moment pass, he glances up at Mike and throws the ball at him-- not nearly as hard as the one previously, but still with a bit of force.


Jay: And this one, Mike only needs to reach up to catch, with perhaps a step or two back. "Well, fuck, it's not a machete or somethin. Could be a lot worse." Taking the ball from his mitt, he throws it once again, not making Tim work for it at all. "Can we move on? I'm better at hitting shit than throwing it."


Jackie: Reaching up for that ball, Tim brings his glove back down to his chest, starting to make his way back towards Mike. "Says the guy who doesn't have a switchblade wielding roommate." It's said lightly, as if a joke, and as Lint passes by Michael, he uses his gloved hand to playfully push at his shoulder. "Fine, let's get you on home base."


Jay: Rolling his eyes but nonetheless grinning some, Mike follows along behind Tim, drawing the glove off of his hand. "I'm a little more familiar with third." An obvious comment, but Mike hasn't ever prided himself on his rapier wit. He tosses the mitt onto the bench when they reach it again, then looks over the array of bats offered. "Is there a difference, or do I just grab any of them?"


Jackie: Striding back to the bench, Tim glances over at Michael for that comment. It takes a moment, but he quips his head to the side-- either to help pass the conversation along to somewhere else, or maybe to try to shake that mental picture from his mind. Once at the bench, he keeps his glove on, using his free hand to wave descriptively at the few bats lined up. "The one with the black tape-- try that one. It's a little heavier, should work well with your arm." And with that, he grabs a few more balls, slowly making his way to the pitcher's mound.


Jay: Oh, right, like Tim's not focusing on that mental picture at alllll. Narrowing his eyes a little, Michael reaches for the suggested bat, hefting it in a way that suggests he's used one more recently than his childhood, but maybe not to play games. He swings it a couple of times, experimentally, before nodding to himself and following Tim back onto the field, diverting to the base and once there, trying to adjust his footing in something that seems like a correct stance.


Jackie: If he was, he'd deny it to the bitter end. Stepping onto the mound, he places the spare balls on the ground beneath him, and then kicks at the area he takes his stance-- clearing it before taking his position. He knows he shouldn't go full throttle-- not because he thinks highly of his skill, but mostly because he wants to gauge how well Mike can hit. Waiting for Michael to take his stance, Tim nods a bit and then throws the ball easily, without much force or speed.


Jay: This part, the swinging at moving objects, Michael hasn't done in a while. He may actually have to focus, and that's not exactly a strong point. Regardless, he watches the oncoming baseball intently - he can tell it's not a fast throw, but seems to underestimate just how slow it is, because he swings a couple fractions of a second too early and the ball continues past him, rolling to a stop in the grass not far away. He looks back at it, then at Tim. "You want me to get that?"


Jackie: It all happens in a matter of seconds; the ball leaves his hand, floats past Mike's bat, and falls to the grass. Standing back upright, Tim shakes his head, taking a few steps to lean down and grab one of the spare balls. "Nah, I got a few." Looking back down at Mike, he tilts his head up to see him better from behind that hat. "Try spreading your legs out a little more. Shoulder length apart."


Jay: Despite his valiant attempt at concentration, Mike snorts in amusement before adjusting his stance. "Sure, only if you spread yours later." This comment is coupled with a completely unrepentant grin and a very unsubtle wink, but he doesn't allow it to distract him for long. He shifts his grip on the bat thoughtfully, then redirects his gaze back to his roommate.


Jackie: Well, that certainly incites an uncommon occurrence for Timothy-- a tell tale blush creeps up his jawline. It's faint, but Tim can feel it there, and he shakes his head, looks to the ground as he kicks at the dirt, taking his position again. He chooses to ignore that statement (really, he doesn't know how to respond), and instead throws the baseball at Michael again with the same careful ease.


Jay: It's a good thing Michael isn't quite close enough to notice that blush, or he'd definitely take encouragement from it. As it is, he's back to being focused on the ball. On this occassion, he manages to swing at the right time, but it's a little too high, and the ball goes sailing past to come to a rest very near its predecessor. "Motherfucker!" Michael glares accusingly over his shoulder at the pair, then again turns his attention to Tim.


Jackie: Back upright, Tim watches as the ball floats past Michael, and he wrinkles his nose for the other boy's choice of words. Taking a few steps forward, so as to not have to raise his voice much, he rests his glove against his hip comfortably as he talks. "That was better. Just keep your eye on the ball, and don't forget your follow through." And then he backs up, grabbing another spare ball in the process.


Jay: "Don't I have to hit something before I can follow through?" He sounds irritated, if not vastly, and not towards Tim; likely he heard these same instructions from his father as a kid, and they made not a bit of difference there, either. He shifts around a little more, looking down at his feet as he replants them.


Jackie: "It's good practice, regardless." He can sense the other boy's irritation (who wouldn't?), so he doesn't reclaim his pitching stance. Instead, he fiddles the ball in his hands, gripping and ungripping it methodically as he speaks. "You have a good swing." And that's all he can muster without sounding like he's trying to boost Michael up, so he reclaims his spot on the mound and waits to pitch to Mike.


Jay: For the encouragement, Mike cocks an eyebrow, looking as if he doesn't believe it for a second. "You don't gotta coddle me, Tim. I won't cry." Although he may admit to himself that his frustration is all out of proportion to the couple of failures, there doesn't seem a way to stop himself feeling it. After all, he's quite used to doing the things he does well, and doesn't react well to being made to look stupid.


Jackie: Tim makes a quick face for that, something close to a sneer, and then takes his stance. "I'm not coddling you." It's said calmly, no venom behind it, but then he brings both hands up to his chest and takes a breath before pitching the ball back towards Mike. It has a little more force, maybe to prove a point, and Tim steps forward in the motino.


Jackie: motion*


Jay: Mike doesn't respond to that, because he doubts he could make any reasonable response and would only give more evidence of his ridiculous irritation. He swings as the ball sails near, not yet irritated enough to stop trying, and has the satisfaction of hearing the bat make contact. It's not a clear hit, though; he only clips it on the edge, so although it does turn in the right direction, it doesn't go any higher. And then when Mike spots the trajectory, the mild burst of pleasure turns to something closer to panic, instead. "Shit!"


Jackie: Maybe Tim wasn't expecting Mike to actually hit this ball, based on Mike's earlier attempts and the fact that Tim put more of his usual technique into this particular throw, so he doesn't have much time to respond before the ball comes soaring at him. His instinct is to cover his face and turn-- glove shielding part of his face, but he doesn't get out of the way soon enough, and the fast ball smacks into his right cheek. Falling to the ground, Tim curses loudly, his non-glove hand reaching up to the point of impact.


Jay: His eyes widening, Mike tosses the bat aside carelessly and starts towards Tim, even though it's not like he can catch up and divert the ball or something. His relief at Tim's quick defense doesn't last long, and he sprints the last couple of yards to drop to the ground next to the other boy. "Fuck, I'm sorry! Are you all right?" To his credit, he seems very genuinely concerned, but unsure of what to do with his hands.


Jackie: While he hits the ground, the ball rolls off to the side seamlessly, as if it hadn't smacked into his face moments earlier. Groaning, Tim rolls onto his knees, keeled over as both hands cover his face. The pain is substituted for adrenaline, and he doesn't work on sitting upright quite yet. "Fuck." Bringing his hands down, he glances at them-- there's no sign of blood, which is a relief, but he can feel the swelling already. "I'm a'ight." Lazy grammar clearly showing his distraction, punctuated with another 'damnit'.


Jay: Grimacing, Mike inches back as Tim rolls over, reaching out to rest a hand against his back almost thoughtlessly. He can see how reddened that cheek already is, and knows from long experience that it'll be a bruise, and a nasty one, soon enough. "Shit, Tim, I'm sorry." Because maybe that wasn't obvious. "We need to get you some ice for that, c'mon." His free hand goes to Tim's shoulder, but doesn't try to force him to sit up, merely encouraging.


Jackie: Tim registers those touches but doesn't react to them much. Instead, he just holds his face in his hands, glove still attached to one of those. He takes a moment to compose himself before shifting around a bit and lifting his upper body to sit back on his ankles. His eyes are watery, if only because of the close impact, and he nods for Mike's words-- he knows from watching this happen to others that this can't just be shrugged off. He's about to speak, but then the pain sets in, and that gloved hand returns to cover the better half of his face. Getting to his feet, he makes his way back towards the bench to grab their equiptment.


Jay: Michael stands along with Tim, further unnerved by Tim's lack of response despite how the other boy doesn't seem upset at him in the least. But when he heads for the bench, Mike sets aside his own discomfort, relocating the hand from Tim's shoulder to his forearm instead to gently but implacably turn him away, towards the school building. "I'll come get that after you get inside. No one's gonna take off with it here, and the longer you wait to ice that, the worse it'll be. Trust me." There's a grim sort of tone in that, because he knows.


Jackie: Finally dropping that glove from his face, Tim squints a bit due to the sunlight, but mostly because of the pain. He nods again for Michael's words, not about to argue them because they make perfect sense, and he begins shuffling towards the locker room he's all too accustomed to. As he starts to walk, he touches at his cheek, feeling the swelling and the heat from the rush of blood, before quipping light heartedly, "Nice hit."


Jay: Glad that Tim doesn't argue the redirection, Mike lets him lead the way to that nearest building, but forebears to remove the hand that still rests lightly against his back. He laughs, more relief than amusement. "The last guy I hit in the face wasn't so grateful." He pauses as if for thought before adding: "But then, he was unconscious." Reaching out to push the locker room door open, he lets Tim go ahead of him before following, but once he's inside, he really has no idea where to go.


Jackie: Snorting lightly for that, he steps into the locker room, bee lining for the medical room that houses a small ice maker, first aid supplies, and so forth. "I can't possibly imagine why." Perhaps the playfulness is an excuse to distract him from the pain, and as Tim passes by the lockers in search of the medic room, he slips his hand out of the glove and tucks it under his arm.


Jay: "Yeah, me either." He continues following after Tim, aware of his uselessness in this situation but not quite willing to leave him alone for whatever reason. Luckily, the ice maker is obvious enough when they enter the medic room, and Mike manages to find a stash of smallish plastic bags to fill with the ice already in the machine. He does so, then knots the top of the bag, and hands it off to Tim. "Frozen peas actually work a lot better, but I don't know where we'd find any of those."


Jackie: Once in the medic room, Tim peers around but Mike beats him to the punch and prepares a bag of ice for him. Grabbing the offered baggie, he carefully places it up to his cheek, peering up at Michael. "Thanks." He hisses for the initial cold against his skin, and for the pressure against the sensitive area, and he leans against a nearby counter top as he lets the ice numb out the pain. "You're good at this. Familiar territory?"


Jay: Michael waves away the gratitude, because it's the least he can do after breaking Tim's face. "'s nothing. Sit for a minute; I'll go grab the gear." But he doesn't go anywhere until Tim actually does sit, ignoring how ridiculous this hovering might be. That half-joking question gets a singularly mirthless, forced smile in response, and a flat tone. "Yeah, my dad taught me."


Jackie: Begrudgingly, Tim moves to a nearby stool, perching on it carefully while still keeping that ice to his face. He doesn't expect that kind of response, so he doesn't know how to respond to it; all he can muster is an apologetic look and before he can get words out, Mike is out of the room to retrieve their gear. He stays put in his solitude, shifting the ice around a bit until the cold becomes too much. By the time Michael returns, the baggie is melting on the counter top, and Tim is looking into the blurred reflection of the ice machine to check the progress of the hit. His cheek is swollen and already turning a darker shade of red, but his eye isn't swelling shut, thankfully.


Jay: Michael's very glad to quit the room after that statement, because Tim's apologetic look isn't welcome and it's not a topic Mike wants to dwell on; he isn't sure why he even said it. By the time he returns, his somewhat good humor seems restored, and he laughs a little at Tim's inspection. "Don't worry, kitten, you're still pretty as ever. Where do I put all this shit?" He's barely keeping a hold on the mess of bats, balls, and gloves, looking helplessly around the room for a suitable surface.


Jackie: Looking over his shoulder for that voice, he smirks a bit for the words, not taking them to heart because he's beginning to understand the way Michael interacts with others. Leaning away from that reflection, he reaches for the jumble of items in Mike's arms-- trying to at least help out with some of it. "Kitten?" He hasn't heard that pet name before, from anyone. "Guess it beats Pookie." Because really, Jesse's nickname is just horrible.


Jay: Letting Tim take some of the gear in marked relief, he laughs for that. "Yeah? I'll have to come up with something worse, then. Can't be outdone." Zeroing in on a nearby table, Mike lets the remaining bats roll from his arms and onto it, then looks them over meditatively. "Y'know, I thought my anger management counselor guy wanted me to stop hurting people. This might not be the sport to go with."



Jackie: After he snags some of the extra mitts and baseballs from Mike, he places them down on the nearby counter top, his amusement coming across in the tone of his voice. "Please, don't." He can't imagine a pet name worse than Pookie or Kitten, and he can just see others picking up on it if Mike were the one to initiate it. Relocating his baggie of ice, he places it back up to his cheek, squinting one eye for the cold and pressure the action brings along. "You could join the chess club."


Jay: Michael pointedly makes no promises on that score, only giving a wide and totally untrustworthy grin. After he's certain none of the bats are going to go rolling off in every direction, he turns to lean back against the counter, crossing his arms. "Nah. Chess club would give me a headache, not the people around me. Besides, the dude said something about team sports." He shrugs, dismissing the whole thing for now, and nods in the general direction of Tim's abused face. "You wanna go back to the dorm? The little pharmacist next door might have something to make that hurt less."


Jackie: Tim watches that grin and then flicks his eyes down to that mouth briefly before blinking his attention elsewhere. "Swimming could work, maybe." It's said lamely, almost distractedly, like it's all he can offer at the moment. The baggie drips a bit from the melted ice, so Tim takes the few steps towards the sink, where paper towel is available for him to wrap the ice in before putting it back to his face. "Yeh, dorm sounds good. Could use a shower, at least."


Jay: Giving a thoughtful hum, Mike tilts his head and eventually shakes it. "I don't know. I'll worry about it later. Maybe there's some sport that starts in the spring and only has a two-week season or something." Pushing off the counter, he starts out of the building, moving without any hurry and staying next to Tim, though he doesn't speak until they're outside again. "Hope your boy doesn't hate me too much for breaking your face." Not that Jesse really looks the type to return the insult.


Jackie: Tim only makes a noncommittal noise for that, unsure of what other sports are made available since his focus for the past two years has been baseball, and nothing else. Before they leave, Tim replenishes his ice pack, filling it to the brim and grabbing some extra paper towel before making his way out of the locker room and back outside. The smile returns, both in amusement and anticipation for how Jesse will react, and Tim shrugs a shoulder lazily. "Jess? Doubtful. He's too happy to hate things."


Jay: Nearer to the main building, Mike can't help his gaze from returning to the high chainlink fences that surround the entire place, topped with razorwire. Maybe this place is less constrictive than the one he was at before, but it's still a glorified cage, and the reminder is irritating. So instead, he looks back to Tim, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah? Hope you're right. But I seem to be the exception to most people's rule." Reaching the building, he pulls the door open and waves Tim in ahead of himself.



Jackie: Unsure of the meaning behind that statement, Tim can only shrug his shoulders as a response as he continues walking. He nods his thanks for the opened door, then makes his way towards the stairwell and begins the trek upwards, still keeping in pace with Michael. "I wonder if those two are even around. Could be out ghost hunting some more."


Jay: Michael laughs for that, shaking his head some. "As if this place isn't bad enough, they have to find reasons it's more fucked up. I heard them discussing some priest who hung himself from the bell tower. They were ridiculously excited about it." He heads up the nearest staircase, still keeping pace with Tim.


Jackie: "Right?" Tim smiles for it, because while he thinks their entire ghost hunting activities are fruitless and dumb, it is amusing to watch the two get so worked up. "They're just riling one another up. Can't say I blame them, though. Ya need something to keep your mind busy in here." Baseball being Tim's pick, of course. Making it to their floor, Tim exits the stairwell (being sure to hold the door for Michael, this time), and then starts towards their bedroom.


Jay: "Well, I can think of several less morbid hobbies, but...whatever they like." He shrugs again, glancing with a sort of casual curiosity into the open doors of the rooms that they pass before reaching their own. He opens the door and heads in, looking briefly through the attached bathroom. "Mm. Don't hear any squealing, maybe they are gone. I have some whiskey, if that would help." Because his stock of painkillers is clearly less diverse than Kellen's.


Jackie: Tim grunts in agreement for that-- he'll stick to his sport and occasional reading, thank you very much. Wandering into their shared room, Tim furrows his eyebrows for Mike's observation, and briefly ponders where the other two are getting into trouble. At least it's still day light out, so they can't be up to too much mischief. Getting to his bed, Tim places his ice pack on his night stand and then sits on the edge of his mattress, leaning down to untie his cleat's laces. "...nah, I think I'm all right. Ice helps." He's certainly not about to ask why Michael has a stash of alcohol at the tender age of...seventeen?


Jay: "You're turning down free whiskey. You're definitely not all right." If Tim keeps up being tactful, he's probably going to have to make a spreadsheet of all the things he isn't supposed to ask Mike about. Luckily, Mike is pretty free of tact, so he just unearths the whiskey - not-so-cleverly hidden in a bright orange squeeze-bottle with the mascot of some school he probably never attended on it - and takes a drink himself before offering it to Tim. If by 'offering' one means 'slamming down on the bedside table with a very pointed look.'


Jackie: There's a little rumble of laughter for that, and Tim yanks off one cleat before unlacing the other. Glancing up from his tucked over position, he watches the bottle a little warily, then shifts his focus to Mike before looking back down at his feet. "Just not much of a drinker, really." And so he doesn't make a reach for that bottle (doesn't trust himself to have his inhibition altered), and gets that other cleat off after a little struggle with the knotted laces.


Jay: Mike continues to watch Tim for a moment longer, but no longer like he's waiting for him to drink, more just bewildered. Eventually he takes the bottle back and goes to re-stash it in his closet, coming back with his guitar case instead. He sets that on his own bed before sitting on the edge, undoing the catches to open it, then taking the instrument out and pulling it over his lap. He starts to check the tuning, but abruptly can't restrain his curiosity any longer. "How the fuck did you end up here, Tim?" That comes out more bluntly than he meant, but his expression, when he looks back to his roommate, is still puzzled.



Jackie: Once both shoes are off, Tim yanks off his socks too, tossing them into the hamper he has tucked into the corner of his closet. He chooses to ignore Mike's watching of him, because he really isn't sure what to do with him, and is pretty grateful when that bottle is returned to its hiding spot. Tim then scoots back onto his bed, the bruise on his cheek slowly turning into a darker reddish purple as he watches Michael start toying with his guitar. But then that question comes out, and Tim has no idea how to answer it-- so he just goes with what he knows best: avoiding any detail or information about himself. "Parents thought it was a good idea." Which isn't a lie-- it just skips over the fact that it was their only idea. One that's two years in, with no sign of changing.


Jay: "But, why?" Mike cocks his head sideways, seeming to have totally forgotten about the guitar. "I mean, I'm not tryin to be an asshole, but you don't exactly fit this place." Because in Mike's head, maybe it's rude to suggest Tim doesn't belong somewhere this fucked up. "Anyone else I've talked to for even, like, ten minutes, it's obvious they're fucked up or violent or troublemakers or just fucking nuts, but I've been around you for days now, and I don't see shit."


Jackie: Suddenly, the bed doesn't seem like the greatest place to be-- it pinpoints him, so Tim gets up from his mattress to reaches for the clasp of his baseball uniform pants. "I've acclimated." It's said easily enough, no harshness in his words, but he very clearly avoids the 'why' part of Mike's questioning. Turning around a bit to face the window as he loosens his clothing, Tim talks over his shoulder. "I've been here for two years. It gets tiring, always acting out."


Jay: Well, if Tim thought he was going to make Mike direct his attention elsewhere by starting to strip down, he's hugely mistaken. Instead, Mike might even look at him more intently, particularly when Tim turns around. He falls silent for a moment after Tim answers, either considering that answer, or just (understandably) distracted. "You don't wanna tell me. That's all right, I know not everyone's badass enough to get arrested for pissing on trees." With a supreme effort of will, he looks back to his guitar, leaning close as he tests the strings and twists the tuning pegs.


Jackie: Getting his pants undone, Tim slips out of them easily enough, tossing them into the same place his socks wound up. He expects more prodding from his room mate, or at least a complaint in his evasiveness, but then that joke comes around and he laughs a little, amused for Mike's ability to poke fun of himself. "Yeah, I can't even compete with that." Clad in his boxer briefs, he steps over towards his dresser to grab a clean pair and then a nondescript pair of athletic shorts, then heads towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna pop in the shower."


Jay: Of course, Mike recognizes the evasiveness, but he knows much better ways to combat it than by complaining. Tim's just making him more curious. He looks up without lifting his head from its lowered position to watch Tim head into the bathroom, nodding slightly in response to that information. "All right. Think of me." It's one of those thoughtless comments he makes, not much real insinuation behind it, since he's focused on tuning.


Jackie: Stepping into the bathroom, Tim almost responds to that-- but then, oh, he doesn't know what to say. So he instead shakes his head and shuts the door, pondering his roommate and the reasons why he is the way he is while he showers. It doesn't take long for him to rinse off and freshen up, and eventually he emerges from the bathroom after a small cloud of steam. Clad in his new, clean clothes, he discards the dirty ones and his baseball cap and then rubs at his scalp with his towel. "Thought of you."


Jay: By the time Tim returns, Mike has gone past tuning and is playing, but a fairly simple and aimless melody, just background noise while he stares out the window and thinks. Or tries not to think, or maybe finds shapes in the clouds. His playing pauses briefly when Tim emerges from the bathroom. "Liar. You weren't in there long enough." But he smiles a little anyway, because distraction is way better than being left alone in his head.


Jackie: As Tim makes his way back to his bed, he hums along to that simple melody, but the noise is quite subdued, barely noticeable. He snorts for Mike's words (which is becoming a common occurrence), and Tim whips his damp towel at the other boy's head. "How long have ya been playing?" As if that clearly depicts that that was what Tim thought about in the shower.


Jay: Mike ducks his head to avoid that towel, though it probably hits his ludicrously spiked hair anyway. "Oh, I don't know. Forever. I can't remember." Hefting the guitar from his lap, he replaces it in the case and stands up, stretching. "Been a while since I had the opportunity, though. How 'bout you?"


Jackie: "No guitars in juvie?" Voice mostly curious, Tim flops onto his back on his bed, craning his neck to look over at Mike. He shrugs for that question, quickly glancing over at his own guitar case before focusing back on Michael's face. "The same, I guess. Don't remember a time without it."


Jay: "Nah. No music at all." He tries to make the answer sound merely brief and dismissive, and not like he's trying not to think about it, but he may fail at that. So he moves on, instead, glancing briefly at Tim as he leans his head from one side to the other to crack his neck. "Is there anyplace to get food around here, between meals? It's gotta be a while til dinner."


Jackie: Tim can only make a scrunched up face for the idea of no music-- sure, being here sucks a whole lot most of the time, but he does get his guitar and music classes. Adjusting his position on the bed, he then reaches for that ice pack, placing it to his cheek once more to help ward off more swelling. "Eh, sort of. The main lobby will put out snacks between meals. Granola bars and fruit, ya know."


Jay: Mike straightens his head up again and looks at Tim like a dog that's just been kicked. "Granola bars and fruit? That's perfect. I was just thinking, hey, I really wanna snack like a brontasaurus." He shakes his head and starts for the door anyway, but before he can exit, Leech walks by - thankfully paying no notice to Mike - and then Kellen follows a moment or two later, and turns into their room. Mike nods in greeting, which is returned, and Kellen tosses an envelope at him. "Mail. Here, Tim." Kellen offers the letter to Tim, rather than throwing it, and invites himself to perch on the end of Mike's bed.


Jackie: Rolling his eyes for that, albeit light heartedly, Tim dismisses that all and closes both eyes as Mike heads towards the door. But then Kellen's voice comes into the room and Tim squints an eye open, sitting up a bit without taking the ice pack down from his face. Reaching for his letter, he smiles a little in gratitude. "Thanks, man." Peering past Kellen, Tim expects to see Jesse-- but that doesn't happen.


Jay: Fumbling to catch the letter, Michael checks the return address and smiles a little to himself, turning from the door to drop back onto his bed, digging the blade from under his pillow to use as a letter opener. Kellen waves a dismissive hand for Tim's thanks. "No problem." And then, belatedly, he notices the ice pack, squinting one of his eyes curiously. "What happened to your face?" He doesn't know Tim well yet, but can't quite imagine the older boy is the brawling sort.


Jackie: Scooting back a bit on his bed, Tim rests up against where the bed meets the wall, distractedly opening up his letter (already knowing who its from, since he doesn't tend to get mail much now that Jesse is here). Lowering his ice pack and resting it back on the night stand, he shrugs a little bit, voice amused. "Mike broke it with a fly baseball. Where's your room mate?"


Jay: When the bruise is revealed, now very colorful, Kellen's eyes widen. "Jesus!" He sideglances at Michael. "I don't know if I should congratulate you or what." Mike doesn't seem to be paying him any attention, opening his envelope at the edge and shaking it to get the folded pages inside out. A wallet-sized photo also falls out, but he apparently misses that, too; it comes to rest face-down on the floor. Kellen looks back to Tim, and shrugs. "Haven't seen Jesse since lunch. I think he was going to the library, though."


Jackie: There's a little exhalation of air that sounds like amusement coming from Tim. "Like he needs an ego boost." From his peripherals, Tim notices something fall to the floor, but doesn't actually look at it until he's claimed it's spot face down. Curling down the bed some, he reaches for that fallen photo, but looks at Kellen while doing so. "Ahh, figured you two'd be together. Practically attached at the hip."


Jay: Kellen snorts for Tim's words. "Doubt it matters, at this point. Kind of like bringing coal to Newcastle." He looks at Mike for that, but there's still no response, so he gives up. "Yeah? That wouldn't be jealousy under your dulcet tones, would it, Tim?" But Kellen's grinning so infectiously that it's impossible to take offense, or to take him seriously, for that matter. He flicks his gaze to the photo Tim's picked up - though he can't see it, it's a studio portrait, the sort you can get taken in malls everywhere, showing a baby (presumably a girl, as it's in a puffy blue dress) with a shock of dark hair that, despite being obviously clean, still defies gravity, and a pair of pretty sea green eyes. Kellen makes that curious face again, only one eye narrowed.


Jackie: Once he has that photo in his grasp,Tim wiggles to get back upright in bed, but this time he sits on the edge of it, closer to Kellen. He notes that smile and knows not to take offense, but he does give him a look that reads something like 'oh, come on'. "No jealousy-- just observation." Little liar. Glancing down at the photo in his hand, he smiles a little bit because...well, for a baby, she's pretty cute, and Tim can instantly see the resemblance. to Mike. Reaching out, he offers the photo to Michael. "Your sister and you look alike. How old is she?"


Jay: Kellen just...chooses not to comment on Tim's "observation" any more. Michael, rather drawn into Dennis' letter, only gradually realizes Tim was taking to him and responds absently as he moves to the letter's second page. "I don't got a sister. A brother, but he looks nothing like me." And then, maybe the question penetrates more, or maybe he gets to a part in Dennis' letter that mentions the photo, because he freezes. Then very slowly lifts his eyes, just his eyes, zeroing in on the photograph Tim holds, and instantly reaching for it, with a carefully expressionless expression.


Jackie: Tim takes Kellen's silence as a win for him, but does so tactfully by remaining quiet himself. Fluttering the photo in his hand, he offers it out to Michael as encouragement for him to take it, then is mildly confused for his words. Once the photo is taken, Tim's eyebrows lift up in curiosity and he tilts his head like a puppy dog, because he's starting to see where this is going. "Uhhh...I. Err." And that's all about he can muster.


Jay: Michael takes the offered photo, carefully, almost cautious. He draws it back to look at it, and although the rest of his face stays blank, there's that same sort of care in his eyes as he looks at it, which he does for a long moment before speaking. "Her name's Adrianna Michelle." He says this very matter-of-fact, if quietly, with the barest hint of pride. Setting the photo aside with the same caution, he goes back to his letter in favor of avoiding meeting Tim's or Kellen's eyes.


Jackie: Tim blinks between the photo and Michael's face, almost expecting either one to burst into flames at any minute. So then he looks over at Kellen, because fuck all does he know how to respond to this, but that doesn't really seem to help, either. Before he can get any more words (or noises) out, Jesse pops into the room, face looking all excited as he makes for a little running hop onto Lint's bed. "Hey!


Jackie: "


Jay: Kellen returns Tim's look, his own lined eyes wide and bewildered, and also hesitates to say anything. When Jesse comes cannoning into the room a moment later, Kellen breathes out in relief. Mike throws a look at Jesse, not exactly a greeting, and refolds his letter and sets it with the photo for the time being. Kellen coughs slightly. "Well, that was fucking awkward. Hey, Jesse."


Jackie: Bouncing onto Tim's bed, Jesse keeps up with the excitement because he just spent three hours researching ghost hunting and when he becomes invested in something, it turns more into an obsession. He smiles broadly at Kellen and then turns to return it to Tim, but then notices that bruise and drops it in favor of confusion. "Who did that?" Crawling a little into Lint's lap, he grabs a hold of Tim's face, turning it a bit so he can inspect it closer. Without looking away from that face, he talks a bit over his shoulder at Kellen. "And what was awkward? You guys playing truth or dare without me?"


Jay: Mike looks at Kellen out of the corner of his eye, snorting. "You think that was awkward, you should heard the last phone conversation I had with her mom." Kellen grins some, mostly glad that Mike isn't being all weird about it, addressing his words to Jesse. "No, no. Just Mike's a motherfucker." Rather than reply directly, Michael makes a noise of protest , snatches up his pillow and lobs it at Kellen's face. Kellen allows it to hit him before trapping it in his lap, cackling, and adds: "Also, he likes to hit people in the face with whatever's handy."


Jackie: Tim tries to shy his face away from Jesse's inspection, mostly because it's not needed-- the bruise is much nastier looking than it currently feels. Piping into the conversation, Tim quips Jesse's initial question with a "Yeh, baseballs included." which makes Jesse 'ohhh' in understanding. Still not releasing his face, Jesse then turns around to face Kellen and then glance at Mike, still all beamy and bright despite his (harmless) words. "You're a mother fucker for busting up Lint's face!"


Jay: "It wasn't on purpose!" Mike looks around the room in indignation, as if cornered; everyone's against him. Kellen is, of course, quick to reply. "The motherfucker part, or the face part?" And with an incoherent growl of (mostly fake) rage, Michael lunges at Kellen and tackles him to the bed, attempting to trap his arms. "Boy, you'll be lucky if you have a face when I'm done with you!" And Kellen is laughing hysterically, totally unrepenant, squirming like an eel to evade Mike's grasping hands but otherwise not putting up much of a fight. "As long as you don't leave me pregnant!"


Jackie: Finally dropping his hand from Tim's face, Jesse turns more fully to face the other two boys in the room, but he's still mostly in Lint's lap. Probably too comfortable around Lint for his own good. As if just now getting Kellen's previous statement, because it was never clearly defined, Jesse's face lights up even more and his eyes go wide. "Oh! Mike's a daddy?!" Which makes him erupt into giggles, total shock as he turns to bury his face in Tim's chest. Finally, Tim cracks a little laugh, both in watching the attack on the other bed and for Jesse.


Jay: Still in possession of that pillow, Kellen starts smacking Mike with it, probably in an attempt to distract him enough to flip him over, all the while giving a ceaseless falsetto scream of horror. The ploy works halfway; Michael focuses on catching hold of the pillow and when he succeeds, tosses it away across the room before renewing his attack on Kellen. Kellen takes to crying out things such as 'No, stop!' and 'Not my spotless chastity!' and 'It's too big, take it out!' in that same falsetto voice, and now Michael's battling his own laughter as much as Kellen's sneaky evasions.


Jay: And this is, of course, when Leech returns, looking somewhat murderous as he suddenly appears in the doorway. That look fades once he realizes that Mike and Kellen's wrestling match is playful, replaced by the same half-squinty expression that Kellen was giving Tim earlier. Leech looks to Tim, almost like he expects him to be the sole rational one in the room (which isn't far off). "The fuck're you people doing?" It doesn't sound as accusing as when he usually asks that question, just bewildered as all hell.


Jackie: Oh, the giggling from Jesse turns into a full fledged laugh attack, enough to where he curls over onto his side, grasping at his tummy as he laughs and laughs and laughs. Tim breaks down as well, watching the play wrestling with little caution, laughing more for Kellen's words because...well, what the fuck? When Leech appears in the doorway, Tim notices him before he speaks out, and subdues his own amusement while Jesse tries to stifle his own.


Jackie: Tim notices the way Leech looks at him and he shrugs a little, motioning to Michael and Kellen because they're clearly the ones doing anything. Tim's just observing. Jesse, still laughing, has turned his body to face the doorway, not nearly as frightened of the Leech because Tim isn't all that concerned about his presence. "Laughing at the most recent father!"


Jay: For Jesse's words, Leech's eyes widen for a fraction of a second, before he realizes that the kid is OBVIOUSLY talking about Ness and not Kellen. So he just looks exasperated and presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose. Mike belatedly realizes that Authority has shown up and sits back, red in the face from exertion and stifling his own laughter, trying to look just ten percent more respectable.


Jay: Kellen shows no such qualms with being ridiculous, staying sprawled where he is even once Mike moves away. "Leech, he's stealing my spotless chastity! Stop him!" Leech manages to restrain any sign of amusement, himself, just giving Kellen a flat look. "I imagine yer chastity's prolly about as spotless as a dalmation, if there's any of it left." He sweeps that same look across the room, not even sure how to excuse the way he came running to the sound of Kellen's shrieks, though no one likely noticed that nice fact. "All'a you shut the hell up and go down to dinner."


Jackie: Tim smiles a little bit for Leech's reaction, amused as all hell by him since he makes zero attempt to hide his reactions, and Tim finds it particularly amusing. Sitting up a bit straighter, he glances down at Jesse, who is himself a crumpled up mess of laughter, and then nods for Leech's command.


Jackie: Jesse waits for Leech to depart before he bursts out into more laughter, looking over at Kellen. He tries very hard to do something other than laugh, but he can't-- his eyes just crinkle more and he goes back to his out right laughter, all while Tim gets off the bed to hunt down a shirt to put on.


Jay: Kellen turns his head to look at Jesse, and his own restraint finally fails, and he's laughing just as hard, not even trying to sit up yet. Mike stands, reclaiming his pillow and throwing it at Kellen, though the kid scarcely seems to notice. So Mike just turns away, still grinning a little, picking Adrianna's picture off the bedside table and placing it carefully in his wallet before heading for the door.


Jackie: Riffling through his closet, Tim finds an old school t-shirt, one designated for gym class a year ago, and pulls it over his head while slipping on a nondescript pair of shoes. Not his best attire, but he's hungry and achey. Jesse seems to catch on to the other boy's movements and he eventually sits up, rubbing at his face to get rid of the tears from laughing so hard. Going to the other bed, he offers Kellen a hand up from the mattress, his eyes all bright with happiness. "You're ridiculous, dear friend."


Jay: Kellen manages to subdue his own laughter after a few minutes, though he's still grinning, and even wider for the term of endearment because it's so perfectly Jesse. He takes the offered hand and pulls himself to his feet with a little hop, then goes about straightening his shirt and tugging his pants up and generally rearranging himself after the attack. "Dalmatian puppies are totally spotless." He nods seriously, before heading for the door also, tugging Jesse along by the hand he still hasn't released.