Lunch Broken
Eduardo still listened intently as he cleaned out his spaghetti plate. He remembered noticing Adam lurking about the school recently. He took little notice of the literal-reality-show champion, though he was immediately placed on Eduardo's mental shortlist of celebrities-through-disaster that included Tyrese as well. He also figured that the giant with a similar last name in the season afterward was merely coincidence, after all there was also a Dodd running for a presidential nomination in the coming elections. That too deserved little thought...at least until Sig made the connection.
"Damien..."
The first mention of that name was in a low, haunted whisper that probably could not be heard above the usual cafeteria din. The only signs that Eduardo had even uttered the name of his only friend was his lip movement.
And the fact that he had unconsciously snapped the plastic fork he was holding in two with one hand.
"Damien...was no murderer..." he growled slowly, traces of despair apparent in his voice. "It was never his fault...they came after him."
The fact that Damien was barely the same age as Eduardo when he also snapped didn't seem to matter much for someone who watched him suffer slowly and die. Watching Damien die on TV was even worse than finding out that the spoiled kid who had Eduardo expelled from San Adrian was basking in a scholarship. For Eduardo, the androgyne's death was the death of goodness and above all, the death of hope, even if he never watched through the ending to see who had won. Damien's death was that final loss, the remainder of the season he assumed to be the finalities and formalities to divide up the bounty.
Eduardo knew Reneé Valenti - the one person Damien could not kill - was enrolled in this school as well, but as much as she was also on that mental shortlist, he did not want to even lay a finger on her. She and her ilk had won it, and there was nothing he could do.
"Damien only killed those who deserved it..." Eduardo added, his voice more composed despite the presence of a tear in one of his eyes, "But he couldn't kill them all."
"Damien..."
The first mention of that name was in a low, haunted whisper that probably could not be heard above the usual cafeteria din. The only signs that Eduardo had even uttered the name of his only friend was his lip movement.
And the fact that he had unconsciously snapped the plastic fork he was holding in two with one hand.
"Damien...was no murderer..." he growled slowly, traces of despair apparent in his voice. "It was never his fault...they came after him."
The fact that Damien was barely the same age as Eduardo when he also snapped didn't seem to matter much for someone who watched him suffer slowly and die. Watching Damien die on TV was even worse than finding out that the spoiled kid who had Eduardo expelled from San Adrian was basking in a scholarship. For Eduardo, the androgyne's death was the death of goodness and above all, the death of hope, even if he never watched through the ending to see who had won. Damien's death was that final loss, the remainder of the season he assumed to be the finalities and formalities to divide up the bounty.
Eduardo knew Reneé Valenti - the one person Damien could not kill - was enrolled in this school as well, but as much as she was also on that mental shortlist, he did not want to even lay a finger on her. She and her ilk had won it, and there was nothing he could do.
"Damien only killed those who deserved it..." Eduardo added, his voice more composed despite the presence of a tear in one of his eyes, "But he couldn't kill them all."
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Will took notice of the fact that Eduardo seemed to have painful memories of Damien. I wonder where this will lead. Careful... Will tried to recall the people Damien had killed, but came up with only a few names of the 10 people that he'd murdered on the island.
"Really? Eli McConnell didn't seem like he deserved it... That other crazy bitch, I can understand. Damien certainly was able to slice her and dice her, a fitting kill for a lunatic like Damien. I still find it hard to imagine how someone like him even made it in the real world... He must've been quite low on the food chain back where he came from."
Vilhjalmur now knew where he could take this... For the most interesting results, in any case. Ahh manipulation... the mind is mightier than the pen or the sword, on any given day.
"Roland... Kelly, I think it was. Aside from being a Jesus-Freak conservative, I don't think he deserved to die. That would be like eradicating most of the Southern States, wouldn't it? I mean, fuck, the guy APOLOGIZED to Damien, that's the basis of his faith, the good thing about him, his forgiveness... That didn't mean scheiße... Shit... to Damien!" By this point, Will had seemed to stop thinking about the consequences of his own words, and proceeded to goad Eduardo even farther.
"Garry Dodd... Now I admit, that man was a little bit... 'kooky'" (Will tried to find a word, but wasn't able to fit a more serious word in) "Towards the end, but he surely didn't deserve that, and I doubt he would have killed Damien before the end. He put trust in that psychopath, something I hope i'll make a point of never doing if I happen to be put in a situation like that! Hell, i'd say that if he had kept those big knives with him, he probably would've killed Damien right as he shot him the first time, which would've rid the world of that manaical curr quite a bit faster..."
Back off, Vilhjalmur, back off...
"You know what?! I would have killed him myself."
"Really? Eli McConnell didn't seem like he deserved it... That other crazy bitch, I can understand. Damien certainly was able to slice her and dice her, a fitting kill for a lunatic like Damien. I still find it hard to imagine how someone like him even made it in the real world... He must've been quite low on the food chain back where he came from."
Vilhjalmur now knew where he could take this... For the most interesting results, in any case. Ahh manipulation... the mind is mightier than the pen or the sword, on any given day.
"Roland... Kelly, I think it was. Aside from being a Jesus-Freak conservative, I don't think he deserved to die. That would be like eradicating most of the Southern States, wouldn't it? I mean, fuck, the guy APOLOGIZED to Damien, that's the basis of his faith, the good thing about him, his forgiveness... That didn't mean scheiße... Shit... to Damien!" By this point, Will had seemed to stop thinking about the consequences of his own words, and proceeded to goad Eduardo even farther.
"Garry Dodd... Now I admit, that man was a little bit... 'kooky'" (Will tried to find a word, but wasn't able to fit a more serious word in) "Towards the end, but he surely didn't deserve that, and I doubt he would have killed Damien before the end. He put trust in that psychopath, something I hope i'll make a point of never doing if I happen to be put in a situation like that! Hell, i'd say that if he had kept those big knives with him, he probably would've killed Damien right as he shot him the first time, which would've rid the world of that manaical curr quite a bit faster..."
Back off, Vilhjalmur, back off...
"You know what?! I would have killed him myself."
Eduardo's fist clenched around the snapped fork enough that Sig could probably notice the veins in his wiry arms. He was previously ranting like a drunken Tony Montana and he definitely seemed like he was about to make the Icelander say hello to his little friend. And then he did something very unexpected. He suddenly relaxed his grip on the plastic shiv, and spoke.
"Heh. Who wouldn't?" he replied with a mischievous smirk, "It's expected."
Sig was thinking right, the mind was mightier than a pen, sword, or snapped plastic fork. Speaking of the latter, Eduardo put the destroyed utensil back on the tray, picked up the napkin and wiped his mouth of whatever sauce had accumulated around his lips. He did this calmly, though Sig could probably see him trembling from the previous tension. Once the tray had been fixed, Eduardo continued to speak.
"Society needs people like Damien to feed off of. They need villains as much as they need their heroes. It's like religious faith. They need a Satan as the fulfillment of God, as it were." Eduardo then chuckled bitterly as the pun on his own name came to mind. "But it doesn't matter if those people really were 'good' or 'well-intentioned.' A little spin goes a long way in influencing the minds of people who need heroes...and villains. It's how we build our morals like 'forgiveness'...not that they really apply to everyone."
Eduardo glanced back down at his soda can, at the red and blue yinyang that was the Pepsi logo.
"One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter. But once you're labeled, you're branded for life. I should know...I was right beside him on the food chain."
"Heh. Who wouldn't?" he replied with a mischievous smirk, "It's expected."
Sig was thinking right, the mind was mightier than a pen, sword, or snapped plastic fork. Speaking of the latter, Eduardo put the destroyed utensil back on the tray, picked up the napkin and wiped his mouth of whatever sauce had accumulated around his lips. He did this calmly, though Sig could probably see him trembling from the previous tension. Once the tray had been fixed, Eduardo continued to speak.
"Society needs people like Damien to feed off of. They need villains as much as they need their heroes. It's like religious faith. They need a Satan as the fulfillment of God, as it were." Eduardo then chuckled bitterly as the pun on his own name came to mind. "But it doesn't matter if those people really were 'good' or 'well-intentioned.' A little spin goes a long way in influencing the minds of people who need heroes...and villains. It's how we build our morals like 'forgiveness'...not that they really apply to everyone."
Eduardo glanced back down at his soda can, at the red and blue yinyang that was the Pepsi logo.
"One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter. But once you're labeled, you're branded for life. I should know...I was right beside him on the food chain."
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The seemingly monomanaical Icelander stood up.
"Nice one. My attempt to goad you into attacking me failed. As you surely have guessed, I like to study people... Not in a psychological sense, but in more of a social sense... I like to see what it is in the world around someone that drives their mind, and it's complex workings, to do what it does." Straigtening his shirt in a Picard-esque maneouver, Will drew his attention to the clock, and then to Eduardo.
"Society doesn't need people like Damien. They don't contribute anything but chaos and terror. True, if they had no Villians, they'd have no heros, either. But wouldn't that mean that society's outcasts become less of outcasts, due to the fact that the playing field of life has been lowered, somewhat? Of course, reality sucks, doesn't it? Some would say that it's better than nothing at all, but of course, that is exactly what you're achieving, and about as much as that lunatic Damien got out of his sad excuse for a life. Sie verrückt fick... In my opinion, you should make something of your life, or leave it. If one has got nothing better to do than ruin the lives of others, then one would do society a service by removing themselves from the world,"
"If those people were to wither into nothingness, one might argue that the horrible deeds they did led to more and more wonderful things... If the people with the brainpower to execute the Holocaust turned it to better things, we would have a much, much better society now. But no, they decided to fuck things up, and sure, the end results for the western world were pretty decent, but look what ended up happening to the Asian continent... Most of the countries there are on the boundries of a failed state, and the Soviet Union's collapse was the one of the most damaging geopolitical blow the the world has ever sustained."
Realizing he was still standing, and veering into a massive debate, Will half-sat back down, and continued.
"The sole reason that the awful crimes of the past had more effect on the world than the good deeds did is simply because there was a more agressive brilliance put into them... It boggles the mind, really... Cooperation with eachother is the most obvious path to take, why try and pave your own with molasses and rusty nails? If we were to truly succeed, we would do it on a larger scale, and co-operate on things, rather than just swallow up resources, human and otherwise. Though, most likely it would fail unless certain parts of society are completely purged from existance, and even then..."
"If even one human being is able to find a group of people to work together for a cause, it is much, much more effective than simply crushing everyone in your way, to meet your ends. This is where the communists failed. Their idea of an 'equal' society ended up backfiring, simply becuase they tried to force their 'equality' on other nations, paradoxing their own ideas."
My, this is dragging along... though I don't mind a bit of a philosophical joust with this depressing fellow, I do have a class to get to...
"The global aspirations of Communism... it would've worked, save the fact that human instinct gets in the way of progress... Where was it that I had heard... Instinct is inextricably bound to unreasoning impulses, and today we clearly see its true nature. Instinct has just become aware of its irrelevance, and like a cornered beast, it will not go down without a bloody fight."
A older-looking boy poked his head out from a crowd, hearing what Vilhjalmur said, "That'd be Half-Life 2, man... No, it's Jason, not Jackson." then returned to talking to the crowd of people, which had evidently just accepted another into the group.
I didn't know jocks could be nerds too...
"So... In the end the only thing I can really say is that, though it may be futile to create a utopian, equal society, we can at least try and improve the one we have without crushing others under the heel of our jewel-encrusted boots."
A sly, rarely seen smile spread across Will's face.
"Philosophy is to life as masterbation is to sex. Fun, but not entirely fufilling. I do both just as often."
On that thought, Will walked off.
((Continued in Of Ice and Men))
"Nice one. My attempt to goad you into attacking me failed. As you surely have guessed, I like to study people... Not in a psychological sense, but in more of a social sense... I like to see what it is in the world around someone that drives their mind, and it's complex workings, to do what it does." Straigtening his shirt in a Picard-esque maneouver, Will drew his attention to the clock, and then to Eduardo.
"Society doesn't need people like Damien. They don't contribute anything but chaos and terror. True, if they had no Villians, they'd have no heros, either. But wouldn't that mean that society's outcasts become less of outcasts, due to the fact that the playing field of life has been lowered, somewhat? Of course, reality sucks, doesn't it? Some would say that it's better than nothing at all, but of course, that is exactly what you're achieving, and about as much as that lunatic Damien got out of his sad excuse for a life. Sie verrückt fick... In my opinion, you should make something of your life, or leave it. If one has got nothing better to do than ruin the lives of others, then one would do society a service by removing themselves from the world,"
"If those people were to wither into nothingness, one might argue that the horrible deeds they did led to more and more wonderful things... If the people with the brainpower to execute the Holocaust turned it to better things, we would have a much, much better society now. But no, they decided to fuck things up, and sure, the end results for the western world were pretty decent, but look what ended up happening to the Asian continent... Most of the countries there are on the boundries of a failed state, and the Soviet Union's collapse was the one of the most damaging geopolitical blow the the world has ever sustained."
Realizing he was still standing, and veering into a massive debate, Will half-sat back down, and continued.
"The sole reason that the awful crimes of the past had more effect on the world than the good deeds did is simply because there was a more agressive brilliance put into them... It boggles the mind, really... Cooperation with eachother is the most obvious path to take, why try and pave your own with molasses and rusty nails? If we were to truly succeed, we would do it on a larger scale, and co-operate on things, rather than just swallow up resources, human and otherwise. Though, most likely it would fail unless certain parts of society are completely purged from existance, and even then..."
"If even one human being is able to find a group of people to work together for a cause, it is much, much more effective than simply crushing everyone in your way, to meet your ends. This is where the communists failed. Their idea of an 'equal' society ended up backfiring, simply becuase they tried to force their 'equality' on other nations, paradoxing their own ideas."
My, this is dragging along... though I don't mind a bit of a philosophical joust with this depressing fellow, I do have a class to get to...
"The global aspirations of Communism... it would've worked, save the fact that human instinct gets in the way of progress... Where was it that I had heard... Instinct is inextricably bound to unreasoning impulses, and today we clearly see its true nature. Instinct has just become aware of its irrelevance, and like a cornered beast, it will not go down without a bloody fight."
A older-looking boy poked his head out from a crowd, hearing what Vilhjalmur said, "That'd be Half-Life 2, man... No, it's Jason, not Jackson." then returned to talking to the crowd of people, which had evidently just accepted another into the group.
I didn't know jocks could be nerds too...
"So... In the end the only thing I can really say is that, though it may be futile to create a utopian, equal society, we can at least try and improve the one we have without crushing others under the heel of our jewel-encrusted boots."
A sly, rarely seen smile spread across Will's face.
"Philosophy is to life as masterbation is to sex. Fun, but not entirely fufilling. I do both just as often."
On that thought, Will walked off.
((Continued in Of Ice and Men))
"You can't defeat something that's been ingrained in us since our ancestors, millions of years ago...or even our biological ancestors before then. You can stamp out the opportunists but you can't stamp out the opportunity," Eduardo started to reply. Will had already started to walk away, seemingly (to Eddie) pleased with his work. "And where there's opportunity, there'll be an opportunist formed to seize it." His voice got louder as Will got farther away...and unknown to Eddie, his lips curled into a grin.
"You won't be saying that when you get crushed, Siggy!" Eduardo shouted maniacly as Sig walked off, "I'm warning you! The future of humanity is that boot stomping our faces forever, and the only way to survive is to wear that boot!"
Eduardo shook his head and slumped forward, pushing his tray aside as the students nearby who had turned their head to notice his shouting went back to whatever they were doing, some of them snickering. He'd always hated quoting 1984, at least being more of an Animal Farm fan himself. Still - and as philosophical debate tended to do - he actually started to think. There was always a way to refresh the order of things, and that always included drastic measures. TFor Eddie, the World Wars purged Europe of the empires that the Revolutionary Wars had thrown out of their colonies. The only way to avenge blood was for blood...
...in this global game of Survival of the Fittest.
He chuckled a bit as he got up and slung his backpack on before taking his tray. The first trash bin he spotted was very close to the nearest exit, which was definitely convenient for him as he made his way around the "cool" tables. He didn't expect food to get thrown at him...at least not in quantities enough to start a food fight. But he was thankful to reach the trash bin and leave the tray with clean clothing.
All he needed to do was just get out the door and to his next class to help the day advance just a bit faster...
"You won't be saying that when you get crushed, Siggy!" Eduardo shouted maniacly as Sig walked off, "I'm warning you! The future of humanity is that boot stomping our faces forever, and the only way to survive is to wear that boot!"
Eduardo shook his head and slumped forward, pushing his tray aside as the students nearby who had turned their head to notice his shouting went back to whatever they were doing, some of them snickering. He'd always hated quoting 1984, at least being more of an Animal Farm fan himself. Still - and as philosophical debate tended to do - he actually started to think. There was always a way to refresh the order of things, and that always included drastic measures. TFor Eddie, the World Wars purged Europe of the empires that the Revolutionary Wars had thrown out of their colonies. The only way to avenge blood was for blood...
...in this global game of Survival of the Fittest.
He chuckled a bit as he got up and slung his backpack on before taking his tray. The first trash bin he spotted was very close to the nearest exit, which was definitely convenient for him as he made his way around the "cool" tables. He didn't expect food to get thrown at him...at least not in quantities enough to start a food fight. But he was thankful to reach the trash bin and leave the tray with clean clothing.
All he needed to do was just get out the door and to his next class to help the day advance just a bit faster...
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Jason Foley had just caught the sight of the group of people he had previously been talking with, when he realized that he'd just completely decked a pathetic-looking boy with a large, metal door. Such was the luck of Jason Foley, the odd hybrid between a computer nerd and a jock.
He'd had a pretty much uninteresting day. Sitting through the past few classes, with really nothing of note popping up. Somebody thought it would be smart to hit Mr. Whittenburg in the face with a football - Hit the poor man in the eye, though his reaction after was more than enough to make you stop feeling sorry for him. Jason was always on the good side of that man, but not quite as much as the rest of the so-called 'jocks'.
Ugh. Jason hated that word. It wasn't an accurate description of him, and it certainly wasn't the type of person Jason liked to hang out with. In fact, Jason hated just about all of the cliques in Southridge. You say you don't like to conform, join the Emos. Depressing. You decide not to join the Emos, so you join the other 'rebellious' cliques. The worst was the Skaters, in his opinion. It's like it was born of stupidity. Take a board, fasten some wheels on it, and get some fool to ride it up and down some unforgiving wooden hills for a while. Or better yet, get him to ride it on the street, and let him lose his virginity to a metal railing... With that said, however, Jason still felt himself bound to hang out with the popular people, the jocks...
Well, he liked sports, and he liked most of them, even if they were pretty dumb, at times. Though, they often weren't as nice to him as they were to people outside of the group. Jason often would step in, and tell them to stop making dicks of themselves, and they'd just drop the subject and go on to something else. He'd earned a bit of popularity among the more 'academic' people (or if you prefer, nerds) in the school for that. At times, he even would stay completely away from the popular group, and hang out with them, instead. They shared similar interests. Jason often used a lot of his money that he earned from working at the local hockey arena to upgrade his PC, and he had a pile of video games large enough to fill a small book-case. Granted, Jason wasn't the absoloutely brightest bulb in the pack, he left that to people like Will Sigur... whatever, and...
"Hey, are you okay? I didn't mean to hit you in the face with that door, I should be more careful next time. I just left the Cafeteria to get some money... shit, it looks like I hit you pretty hard."
Jason could already hear the others laughing at what he did, one of them shouted "Nice going, Jason!", and he gave them a dirty look before turning back to the boy on the floor. It was Eduardo Trinidad-Villa, the other rediculously intelligent boy he was thinking of, and a popular conversation topic among the popular crowd.
He'd had a pretty much uninteresting day. Sitting through the past few classes, with really nothing of note popping up. Somebody thought it would be smart to hit Mr. Whittenburg in the face with a football - Hit the poor man in the eye, though his reaction after was more than enough to make you stop feeling sorry for him. Jason was always on the good side of that man, but not quite as much as the rest of the so-called 'jocks'.
Ugh. Jason hated that word. It wasn't an accurate description of him, and it certainly wasn't the type of person Jason liked to hang out with. In fact, Jason hated just about all of the cliques in Southridge. You say you don't like to conform, join the Emos. Depressing. You decide not to join the Emos, so you join the other 'rebellious' cliques. The worst was the Skaters, in his opinion. It's like it was born of stupidity. Take a board, fasten some wheels on it, and get some fool to ride it up and down some unforgiving wooden hills for a while. Or better yet, get him to ride it on the street, and let him lose his virginity to a metal railing... With that said, however, Jason still felt himself bound to hang out with the popular people, the jocks...
Well, he liked sports, and he liked most of them, even if they were pretty dumb, at times. Though, they often weren't as nice to him as they were to people outside of the group. Jason often would step in, and tell them to stop making dicks of themselves, and they'd just drop the subject and go on to something else. He'd earned a bit of popularity among the more 'academic' people (or if you prefer, nerds) in the school for that. At times, he even would stay completely away from the popular group, and hang out with them, instead. They shared similar interests. Jason often used a lot of his money that he earned from working at the local hockey arena to upgrade his PC, and he had a pile of video games large enough to fill a small book-case. Granted, Jason wasn't the absoloutely brightest bulb in the pack, he left that to people like Will Sigur... whatever, and...
"Hey, are you okay? I didn't mean to hit you in the face with that door, I should be more careful next time. I just left the Cafeteria to get some money... shit, it looks like I hit you pretty hard."
Jason could already hear the others laughing at what he did, one of them shouted "Nice going, Jason!", and he gave them a dirty look before turning back to the boy on the floor. It was Eduardo Trinidad-Villa, the other rediculously intelligent boy he was thinking of, and a popular conversation topic among the popular crowd.
The first thing that came into mind as the door slammed into Eduardo hard enough to throw him back against the trash bins that he'd just deposited his food in (though not hard enough to knock them over) was the word "FUCK." Everything was a blur for those few seconds, and when his body came to a complete stop he could feel pangs of pain taking the shortest possible route to his brain. That included the pain resulting from the laughter from the other nearby tables.
"No shit...fucking jock..." Eduardo grumbled as he massaged his nose, loud enough for Jason to hear. To Ed, a jock was a jock was a jock, and if a jock decided to stray from that it would be like sawing a trap door under their own feet.
It didn't help when he heard Frankie Solano, the popular "smart-ass," adding a bit of mouthing off at the situation. Solano feigned being hit by something as Jason shot a dirty look back, and sat back down smiling sheepishly. If Eduardo had been paying attention he might have heard Frankie say something about wishing he had a camera for this.
Eduardo groaned as he tried to get his thoughts together. couldn't get up and strike the guy back, because not only were there no implements nearby since he disposed of his plastic shiv, he was afraid enough of what people do to kids like him in adult jail, especially given his juvie record. He didn't quite believe that he had to go through a few more months of this before he could get that job and just retire from the public scene.
"God...you wanna finish the fucking job or what!?" he growled.
"No shit...fucking jock..." Eduardo grumbled as he massaged his nose, loud enough for Jason to hear. To Ed, a jock was a jock was a jock, and if a jock decided to stray from that it would be like sawing a trap door under their own feet.
It didn't help when he heard Frankie Solano, the popular "smart-ass," adding a bit of mouthing off at the situation. Solano feigned being hit by something as Jason shot a dirty look back, and sat back down smiling sheepishly. If Eduardo had been paying attention he might have heard Frankie say something about wishing he had a camera for this.
Eduardo groaned as he tried to get his thoughts together. couldn't get up and strike the guy back, because not only were there no implements nearby since he disposed of his plastic shiv, he was afraid enough of what people do to kids like him in adult jail, especially given his juvie record. He didn't quite believe that he had to go through a few more months of this before he could get that job and just retire from the public scene.
"God...you wanna finish the fucking job or what!?" he growled.
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Jason heard Eduardo curse at him, holding his nose at the same time. It seemed that he'd swung the door pretty hard. Jason glanced at his muscular arm, and then back at the door... "Euhh.... Well, I didn't mean to. Please, don't call me a jock, I don't like that label. I'm sorry I hit you in the face, I was in a bit of a hurry, and... Oh damn, is that blood?"
Jay cast a glance over towards one of the tables, and he grabbed a napkin, carefully handing it to Eduardo. Jeez... Ed looks pissed. It really didn't help his apology when Frakie Solano decided to make a stupid remark about wishing he had a camera.
With an equally sarcastic, but sharp look on his face, Jason snapped back at him. "Is it possible, at all... for you to shut your mouth for a few seconds? I mean, seriously, I just hit the guy in the face with a fucking door. He doesn't deserve to be laughed at like a three-legged dog." That comment raised a few eyebrows, but that was such with Jason, the righteous, odd, and somehow still floating in the sea of highschool popularity.
Holding out his hand to help the stunned and pissed-off Eduardo up, Jason lowered his tone to a more peaceful, less sardonic one. "And no, i'm not going to finish the job. My name's Jason, by the way... I'm so sorry about that." Jason had a sincere, worried tone in his voice, contrasting the way he snapped at Frankie. Hurting people was the last thing he wanted to do, especially hurting someone who looks like he'd be ready to stab you with a spoon if you urked him.
Jay cast a glance over towards one of the tables, and he grabbed a napkin, carefully handing it to Eduardo. Jeez... Ed looks pissed. It really didn't help his apology when Frakie Solano decided to make a stupid remark about wishing he had a camera.
With an equally sarcastic, but sharp look on his face, Jason snapped back at him. "Is it possible, at all... for you to shut your mouth for a few seconds? I mean, seriously, I just hit the guy in the face with a fucking door. He doesn't deserve to be laughed at like a three-legged dog." That comment raised a few eyebrows, but that was such with Jason, the righteous, odd, and somehow still floating in the sea of highschool popularity.
Holding out his hand to help the stunned and pissed-off Eduardo up, Jason lowered his tone to a more peaceful, less sardonic one. "And no, i'm not going to finish the job. My name's Jason, by the way... I'm so sorry about that." Jason had a sincere, worried tone in his voice, contrasting the way he snapped at Frankie. Hurting people was the last thing he wanted to do, especially hurting someone who looks like he'd be ready to stab you with a spoon if you urked him.
"Hey, it was fun while it lasted. It's not like he's gonna go Columbine or something on us," Frankie replied before getting back to socializing with the rest of the table. "He's the guy who got sent to juvie a couple years back in San Adrian..." he explained to his ciiquemates unfamiliar with the Columbine reference.
Eduardo wiped off the blood from his nose with his arm. He totally ignored Jason's hand and rolled a bit to the side to get up as if trying to move away from an obstacle. He had to grab the top of the bin to help himself up, as his backpack really felt a ton heavier. He was seething as he tried to breathe in and out to ease the pain a bit, no doubt he'd have to pass the clinic to stop the blood flow before he made to his next class, which was about 20 minutes from now.
"I already know who you are, cabron. Maybe your jock buddies can tell you all about who I am. That oughta teach you how to deal with me," Eddie retorted, dusting himself off. He placed extra emphasis on the word jock not as a provocative measure, but more to remind Jason that he was whom Eduardo really believed he was - someone who was bound for a great pro sports or otherwise popular career unless he did something really stupid like take steroids (and get caught) or go "nerd."
Eduardo wiped off the blood from his nose with his arm. He totally ignored Jason's hand and rolled a bit to the side to get up as if trying to move away from an obstacle. He had to grab the top of the bin to help himself up, as his backpack really felt a ton heavier. He was seething as he tried to breathe in and out to ease the pain a bit, no doubt he'd have to pass the clinic to stop the blood flow before he made to his next class, which was about 20 minutes from now.
"I already know who you are, cabron. Maybe your jock buddies can tell you all about who I am. That oughta teach you how to deal with me," Eddie retorted, dusting himself off. He placed extra emphasis on the word jock not as a provocative measure, but more to remind Jason that he was whom Eduardo really believed he was - someone who was bound for a great pro sports or otherwise popular career unless he did something really stupid like take steroids (and get caught) or go "nerd."
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Jason ignored Eduardo's snide comments and walked over to get some ice for Eduardo's nose. Maybe, just maybe, I could try and just stay a nice guy, regardless of what he says... I wonder why he despises Jocks so much... It doesn't look like they have done anything to him. Jason thought about that as he walked back to Eduardo, handing him a plastic bag full of ice. "Here, take this. Again, i'm really sorry about that." After he handed him the ice, Jason carefully stepped back a bit, thinking of what to do next. Idea!
"Why don't you come sit down, Eduardo. Right over heeere..." The oddly devious boy walked over towards a table, and beckoned for him to sit down. Across the table, Jason glared at Frankie Solano, and smirked. It was the least he could do to convince 'Eddie' to be just a tad friendlier. Besides, he didn't much care for the popular crowd anyways.
It was always such that Jason Foley had been forced into the crowd, and he wasn't going to sacrifice his ego, and friends, by leaving it. That didn't mean he couldn't subtly make them uncomfortable. He loved doing that. Though he was a man of honor, he didn't mind playing a few subtle tricks on people. Things that aggrivate them, but they can't quite put a finger on who did it. This wasn't one of those situations, of course. It was glaringly obvious he wanted to stop Frankie "Never shuts it" Solano from talking behind Eduardo's back. Jason did have a knack for being able to sneak things into lockers that shouldn't be there... Last year's Gay Porn incident was evidence of that.
"C'mon Ed, take a seat."
"Why don't you come sit down, Eduardo. Right over heeere..." The oddly devious boy walked over towards a table, and beckoned for him to sit down. Across the table, Jason glared at Frankie Solano, and smirked. It was the least he could do to convince 'Eddie' to be just a tad friendlier. Besides, he didn't much care for the popular crowd anyways.
It was always such that Jason Foley had been forced into the crowd, and he wasn't going to sacrifice his ego, and friends, by leaving it. That didn't mean he couldn't subtly make them uncomfortable. He loved doing that. Though he was a man of honor, he didn't mind playing a few subtle tricks on people. Things that aggrivate them, but they can't quite put a finger on who did it. This wasn't one of those situations, of course. It was glaringly obvious he wanted to stop Frankie "Never shuts it" Solano from talking behind Eduardo's back. Jason did have a knack for being able to sneak things into lockers that shouldn't be there... Last year's Gay Porn incident was evidence of that.
"C'mon Ed, take a seat."
Eduardo snatched the ice pack away from Jason and applied it to his face as soon as it came within reach. Jason appeared to recoil accordingly...and for a moment, the smaller boy hoped that the guy would just go back to his table and continue to mind his own business. It certainly didn't matter to Eduardo if Jason would brag about what he'd just done to his buddies, especially Frankie, who always seemed so carefree when it came to his insults.
Of course, it started to matter to Eddie when the jock offered him to come over to the "popular" table to have a seat with them.
Eddie complied and started to trudge to the table with Jason, though his docility was not due to any positive turn in his behavior. Rather it was an expression of a fear of punishment. Jason had reined him in and shepherded him into the lion's den. If he continued to "comply," he would have little reason to fear being eaten. He could tell that they were already giving him sampling licks when Frankie smirked at him, only to have the ringmaster shoot a glare back. Of course, that wouldn't last too long, as Eddie found an empty space at the corner and shuffled in...though the corner space was within talking distance of the jock.
He kept the ice close to his face so that his vision was effectively blocked. It was also a half-protective measure in case of a rogue food item hurtling his way.
Of course, it started to matter to Eddie when the jock offered him to come over to the "popular" table to have a seat with them.
Eddie complied and started to trudge to the table with Jason, though his docility was not due to any positive turn in his behavior. Rather it was an expression of a fear of punishment. Jason had reined him in and shepherded him into the lion's den. If he continued to "comply," he would have little reason to fear being eaten. He could tell that they were already giving him sampling licks when Frankie smirked at him, only to have the ringmaster shoot a glare back. Of course, that wouldn't last too long, as Eddie found an empty space at the corner and shuffled in...though the corner space was within talking distance of the jock.
He kept the ice close to his face so that his vision was effectively blocked. It was also a half-protective measure in case of a rogue food item hurtling his way.
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Jason's offer of kindness wasn't taken lightly by either side. His 'fellow' jocks were seemingly unable to keep still, and Eduardo was doing his best to avoid eye contact, like a puppy afraid of a broom.
"So..." One of them began, but quickly dipped his head down and resumed eating his lunch. The awkward silence continued.
Nothing was ever quite this awkward. This was beyond intense. It was a deranged game of cards, you never knew what someone was going to pull out next...
"Well isn't this just fabulous!"
A bubbly, older looking woman stood over the table. She was obviously one of the sub teachers. One of those overenthusiastic ones too, rare as they were. She spoke with a heavy, almost put-on British accent, clearly one of those crazy English-Teacher types.
"I'm so glad to see diverse groups of people mingling together! Most of the other schools where I teach just have threesomes in the corners, nobody really getting together and having a gay old time! I'm so proud to see you all like this!"
On that disturbingly suggestive comment, she strode off with a overly happy smile, leaving blank stares and open mouths occupying the faces of the group.
"So..." Jason began..
"So..." One of them began, but quickly dipped his head down and resumed eating his lunch. The awkward silence continued.
Nothing was ever quite this awkward. This was beyond intense. It was a deranged game of cards, you never knew what someone was going to pull out next...
"Well isn't this just fabulous!"
A bubbly, older looking woman stood over the table. She was obviously one of the sub teachers. One of those overenthusiastic ones too, rare as they were. She spoke with a heavy, almost put-on British accent, clearly one of those crazy English-Teacher types.
"I'm so glad to see diverse groups of people mingling together! Most of the other schools where I teach just have threesomes in the corners, nobody really getting together and having a gay old time! I'm so proud to see you all like this!"
On that disturbingly suggestive comment, she strode off with a overly happy smile, leaving blank stares and open mouths occupying the faces of the group.
"So..." Jason began..
Although it wasn't noticeable due to the ice pack blocking his face, Ed's eye twitched severely at the mention of the suggestive words uttered by Mrs. Bland (of all names), the English sub teacher. Normally, a kid his age would in their hormonally-charged state snicker at those words, while a more conservatively-raised one would either nod their head and smile or get offended at the connotations. Unfortunately for Eduardo, those words triggered some rather unpleasurable memories of pleasure that he almost received nigh a few months ago, when two classmates, one gay and one quite possibly like that, almost molested him on a beach.
Of course, Ms. Bland was often blithely unaware of the connotations of the things she'd normally told her students as a substitute, at least until the other teachers caught the rumors and told it to her some weeks later in the teacher's lounge. Eddie had always figured her as one of those happy rookie "idealists" who - like police officers and politicians - would eventually get used to what really went on in schools like those or end up falling out over some scandal.
Frankie Solano had actually caught the connotations, and his head and attention perked, like a dog's Pavlov response to a bell. If this was going where he thought it was going...perhaps he wouldn't need to start a food fight to be entertained the rest of the lunch break.
"Don't you even think about it, Foley," Eduardo said frustratingly as soon as the jock started to speak, "You got the shower rooms after practice for that." To which Frankie violently suppressed his own laughter.
Of course, Ms. Bland was often blithely unaware of the connotations of the things she'd normally told her students as a substitute, at least until the other teachers caught the rumors and told it to her some weeks later in the teacher's lounge. Eddie had always figured her as one of those happy rookie "idealists" who - like police officers and politicians - would eventually get used to what really went on in schools like those or end up falling out over some scandal.
Frankie Solano had actually caught the connotations, and his head and attention perked, like a dog's Pavlov response to a bell. If this was going where he thought it was going...perhaps he wouldn't need to start a food fight to be entertained the rest of the lunch break.
"Don't you even think about it, Foley," Eduardo said frustratingly as soon as the jock started to speak, "You got the shower rooms after practice for that." To which Frankie violently suppressed his own laughter.
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As Frakie Solano seemed to spasm uncontrollably, holding back his laughter, Jason calmly looked right at him. "It's alright, Frankie, let it all out man..." Jay muttered as Frankie burst out laughing. Oookay now... This is just about as far as it gets... I'm not going to do anything, just get up and walk away... Get up, and leave. Now. "Okay then, you done?" Frankie snickered, and then sighed, nodding. Jason took in a breath, composed himself, and...
[font=Impact]BAM!
[/font]
With a resounding smack, Jason's hand flew to the side of Eduardo's head, resulting in the ice-bag breaking apart, broken ice-cubes everywhere. Jason walked off, the sound of Eduardo's groans and Frankie Solano's continuing laughter resoundining in the distance. It wasn't that he took much of that kind of stuff that seriously... It was just that in particular. That is what he referred that type of stuff as, and for a damn good reason. Fucking... damn you, why did that..? Keep it out of your head, Jay. Isn't going to do any good... Just leave, cool down...
((Continued in Of Ice and Men))
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An immensely tall figure limped through the Cafeteria Doors, brushing past what looked to be an extremely pissed-off jock. Jocks, yes, those i'll need to look into. His new cane gleamed in the light of the cafeteria, far removed from the old one he had earlier, which had been singed and destroyed. The scar across his face had healed from the knife wound, and he'd bought new, more upbeat clothes that more reflected his outlook on life.
The boy walked over to a free table to sit at during his lunch period. He had a lot on his mind. SOTF, Life, Death, Rebirth, the essence of the soul... Philosophical questions for the philosophical sort, one of which he was not. The questions had been swirling his chaotic mind for weeks, questions he just couldn't shake out of his head. How did his existance come about? Again? Hours, he spent racking his mind on how it happened, or why. Time wasted, in any case.
The monstrous looking cripple loomed over a slightly pathetic, apathetically styled emo boy. "Need help?"
[font=Impact]BAM!
[/font]
With a resounding smack, Jason's hand flew to the side of Eduardo's head, resulting in the ice-bag breaking apart, broken ice-cubes everywhere. Jason walked off, the sound of Eduardo's groans and Frankie Solano's continuing laughter resoundining in the distance. It wasn't that he took much of that kind of stuff that seriously... It was just that in particular. That is what he referred that type of stuff as, and for a damn good reason. Fucking... damn you, why did that..? Keep it out of your head, Jay. Isn't going to do any good... Just leave, cool down...
((Continued in Of Ice and Men))
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An immensely tall figure limped through the Cafeteria Doors, brushing past what looked to be an extremely pissed-off jock. Jocks, yes, those i'll need to look into. His new cane gleamed in the light of the cafeteria, far removed from the old one he had earlier, which had been singed and destroyed. The scar across his face had healed from the knife wound, and he'd bought new, more upbeat clothes that more reflected his outlook on life.
The boy walked over to a free table to sit at during his lunch period. He had a lot on his mind. SOTF, Life, Death, Rebirth, the essence of the soul... Philosophical questions for the philosophical sort, one of which he was not. The questions had been swirling his chaotic mind for weeks, questions he just couldn't shake out of his head. How did his existance come about? Again? Hours, he spent racking his mind on how it happened, or why. Time wasted, in any case.
The monstrous looking cripple loomed over a slightly pathetic, apathetically styled emo boy. "Need help?"
There seemed to be a bit of a calm after Eddie let those words fly. In his mind he might have heard himself say FUCK. before the next thing he sensed literally hit him. Namely, Jason Foley's fist colliding with his face via the icepack, which gave Eddie the sensation that he had essentially been hit by a sack of rocks. Within moments he had hit the cafeteria floor, rolling onto his back and groaning. Although pretty much everyone in the vicinity had taken notice, few of them were actually laughing...save for Solano. Still, Frankie's laughter got little negative attention.
Eduardo lay face-up on the ground, his head in the middle of a puddle with ice cubes slipping around and melting nearby. He simply frowned as he looked up at the fluorescent lights, bruise marks slowly starting to appear on his face where the ice had particularly impacted his skull. Of course, that frown turned into visible fear as his vision re-oriented to recognize a rather large figure with a cane looming above him.
Oh fuck no...
For a moment, Eduardo thought the punch had really put him out of his misery. But it wasn't the idea of his sudden death that was scaring him right now - that would have been an idea he actually would have welcomed as long as it was quick and painless. It certainly wasn't the laughter of Frankie Solano, which resumed in snickering form as he looked over at Eduardo's fallen form. It was more that - in his still punch-scattered mind - he put together SotF memories quicker than he could put his surroundings together, and the person standing above him seemed horribly familiar.
Eduardo thought he was staring up into the face of Garry Dodd, the giant who had defied Damien all the way to his gruesome death (and later decapitation by Roland Kelly.) And as his mind struggled to regain traction, he figured that was Garry's ghost come back to avenge himself on Eddie for Damien.
"If you're gonna finish me...you can do a better job than that fucking jock..." he said, pronouncing the last two words particularly loud, though Jason had already left and probably would not hear them.
Eduardo lay face-up on the ground, his head in the middle of a puddle with ice cubes slipping around and melting nearby. He simply frowned as he looked up at the fluorescent lights, bruise marks slowly starting to appear on his face where the ice had particularly impacted his skull. Of course, that frown turned into visible fear as his vision re-oriented to recognize a rather large figure with a cane looming above him.
Oh fuck no...
For a moment, Eduardo thought the punch had really put him out of his misery. But it wasn't the idea of his sudden death that was scaring him right now - that would have been an idea he actually would have welcomed as long as it was quick and painless. It certainly wasn't the laughter of Frankie Solano, which resumed in snickering form as he looked over at Eduardo's fallen form. It was more that - in his still punch-scattered mind - he put together SotF memories quicker than he could put his surroundings together, and the person standing above him seemed horribly familiar.
Eduardo thought he was staring up into the face of Garry Dodd, the giant who had defied Damien all the way to his gruesome death (and later decapitation by Roland Kelly.) And as his mind struggled to regain traction, he figured that was Garry's ghost come back to avenge himself on Eddie for Damien.
"If you're gonna finish me...you can do a better job than that fucking jock..." he said, pronouncing the last two words particularly loud, though Jason had already left and probably would not hear them.