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Post by Rory Fergus Hewitt on Dec 30, 2011 6:23:03 GMT -5
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SURPRISE SLEEPOVER~~!
For the most part, Rory Hewitt enjoyed winter. He liked the crisp air and how it made his face feel tight and fresh. He liked the slightly melancholy feel of a grey sky, which suited playing a certain kind of song, which in turn suited the way he felt. The chill was also reminiscent of home. Whether he liked it or not, that was also something he enjoyed about the winter. Snow would have been nice…but it had never happened at LCU in his experience. Though he missed the white, fluffy precipitation, it was probably a good thing. His clothes weren’t the warmest, weren’t the most resistant to the wet…and his abode was just the same.
A chilling wind ripped right through his gutted warehouse, which didn’t even have all the windows (and was probably missing ceiling in quite a few places). When he’d ‘moved in’, as such, he hadn’t really been thinking about these things. He’d just been desperate for a place to set himself down and rest. Plus, it had been summer – he’d been thankful for the added, uh…breeziness.
In the winter, however, the wind howled up something awful, and the musician would regret giving away that particularly nice blanket he’d picked up from the charity store. Or, even worse, he’d regret forgoing those couple of dollars which could have bought him another blanket, instead of, say, lunch.
It wasn’t often that he did this sort of thing, packing up his stuff for a night and seeking somewhere else to stay. Usually Rory sucked it up and shivered through the night. Sure, he didn’t get much sleep, and was wrecked the next day, but he still had his pride (and nice though he was, he WAS a prideful young man). Tonight, though, was bloody cold and that wind was baying louder than a miserable dog. The Scotsman was sure that he’d almost been blown off his feet by the gale more than once! Then there was that scent in the air that could only be impending rain – and a lot of it. Rory didn’t think that he could deal with a dripping roof and a blustery bedroom all in one go.
So he left. He cut and run from his abode and headed for someone else’s. It took a bit of thinking – going through his mental list of friends and acquaintances – before he came across one name he thought would be good. LCU wasn’t too far away and an evening walk was always nice.
…so long as it didn’t start raining.
Thankfully, it didn’t. Rory made it to Fletcher Hall without a drop of water landing on his haystack of a head. It seemed to be his day (a good sign, considering the trick he was trying to pull) because he heard the pattering of rain behind him shortly after he stepped across the threshold of the dorms. Unable to contain his grin, the young man wandered down the halls.
“Now, what number was it…” he murmured to himself.
“Two…something something…Two…three…four?”
A frown set his face, as he watched the numbers on the doors go past the further he went down the hall.
“No. but close. Two three…FIVE!”
The frown melted to a grin as he parked himself in front of the right door. Rory knocked primly, and when the door opened whoever was on the other side would have been greeted by with that smile. The rest of Rory, with his rather tattered clothes, was looking the worse for wear. His jacket had a hole in one elbow, and his shirt was no discernable colour. His jeans were even more hole ridden than his jacket…and it wasn’t a fashion statement. As always, he had his guitar slung over one shoulder, and a little bag of ‘emergency items’ hanging off the other.
Not giving the door-answerer a second to react, Rory launched into a little spiel he’d been planning on his rather long walk to the university. It rolled off his tongue with ease.
“Life has been a bit boring lately. Especially tonight,” he started, accent as thick as ever. He’d slowly dropped the slang which he’d brought with him from home, but the way his mouth naturally twisted words would not shift.
“So I thought what would be better than visiting my friend Jude for an impromptu guy’s night?”
He grinned that disarming, charming smile and said a little prayer in the back of his head that the other wouldn’t turn him away.
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Post by JUDE ALEXANDER MONROE on Dec 31, 2011 6:59:44 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] The Words: 973 derp derp The Outfit: onlay in his boxahs. Jude Monroe was a quiet boy, someone who kept to himself most of the time, someone who was able to blend into the background when he was out in public, someone who didn't particularly enjoy large groups of people. Loud noises bothered him, made his stress levels rise to the point of not being able to handle them, and this was generally when the fits started. He'd learned this as a result of trial and error, a method employed by the multiple therapists he'd had as a child. However, it was a discovery he'd come about on his own, something he'd refused to let them know, as it wasn't in his nature to enjoy talking about himself or his problems. Needless to say, his father had wasted a lot of money on useless sessions.
It wasn't abnormal then, to find the boy sitting alone in his dorm room on a Friday night, even though he was officially an Omega Chi Delta pledge. Luckily though, he'd rushed at a fraternity that placed homework and grades above partying and drinking, so the excuse of having a short story due in his next class always worked when he wasn't feeling up to attending the non-mandatory social events.
It was because of this luck, that he sat at his computer in his room at that very moment, his chin resting lightly in his palm, his fingers occasionally hitting the refresh button, hoping that the one person he really looked forward to talking to would show up soon. He never knew with Wynne, when they'd get a chance to talk, as he constantly spoke of having plans, going places, seeing people, but Jude still liked being there, incase his online friend were to show up. He liked to think that he was dependable, there if someone needed him.
Glancing down at his wrist, and the watch that adorned it though, Jude realized that tonight was probably a lost cause, that there was no way his friend would show up now if he hadn't already.
With a deep sigh, he heaved himself out of his chair and padded towards the only window in his room. He cranked it open an inch, and reached into his pocket, fumbling for a smoke, an unhealthy habit he'd picked up in high school. Coming up with only a gum wrapper and an empty pack, the boy felt himself beginning to shake, irritation and anger bubbling up to the surface. Pulling the window shut abruptly, he paced roughly about his room, his eyes finally settling on his violin; the one thing that had the ability to calm him.
Picking it up, he placed the wooden instrument under his chin, cradling it in the crook of his neck, his fingers grazing across the string softly, before they reached for the bow resting on his bedside table. Putting string to string, he began to play, a haunting collection of notes soothing him. Music tames the savage beast they say. Closing his eyes, he made his way to his bed, where he lay down, the music still flowing from his violin.
When he played, he lost track of time, lost track of himself, and he was able to, for as many songs as he played, feel his mother, imagine her there with him, approving of him, of his undeniable talent.
However, not much time passed before there was a soft knock on his door, and Jude started at the noise. It was generally rare for someone to come to his door, unless they wanted something from him, but rarer still, was someone coming to call on him at this hour of the night. Placing his violin down on the floor beside his bed, he stood, worried that someone had heard him playing and had come to complain. The walls of the dormitories, though thick and made of cement, weren't entirely sound-proof, something he'd embarrassingly discovered a few nights ago, when his neighbour had decided to sneak his girlfriend of the moment into his room after hours.
Once he'd reached the door, he briefly contemplated not answering, pretending he either hadn't heard the knock, or wasn't in. Finally deciding this wouldn't be the best idea, the boy placed his hand on the knob, and swung the door open, revealing a very rumpled looking man, his clothes slightly torn, mud caking the bottom of well-worn jeans. Jude opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a slew of words from the other boy's lips, something about life being rather boring, but he wasn't entirely sure, as he sometimes had a difficult time catching the things his friend said when he got nervous or excited, his accent especially thick during those particular moments. But no matter, as the brunette was glad for the interruption; he wasn't exactly sure what the right thing to say was when someone showed up at your doorstep in the middle of the night. And so, for one of the first times in his life, he let his instincts kick in, and didn't think about what he'd say.
"Rory!" Jude squeaked, his face flushing at the sound his own voice had made, at the lack of words he seeimingly had.
Grabbing the male in front of him by the front of his coat, the tall brunette pulled his friend into the room, slamming the door behind him with a well-placed foot, before anyone could spot him. It was only once he had Rory in his room, the door shut, that Jude remembered he'd taken all of his clothes off earlier in the night, save for a pair of embarrassingly too small black boxer briefs. |
[/td][/tr][/table][/center] I apologize for the scatteredness of this post, I hate introductory whoo-hah. :c
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Post by Rory Fergus Hewitt on Jan 2, 2012 11:21:44 GMT -5
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SURPRISE SLEEPOVER~~!
Well! That wasn’t quite the welcome that Rory was expecting. To be perfectly honest, the Scot thought he’d have to do a bit more charming and smooth talking than the inadequate spiel he’d spurted out so nervously. Jude was a timid sort of man, one part of Rory was surprised that the student had been awake…and even more surprised that he’d opened the door! Which begged the question of why he’d called on the pledge in the first place, if the chances were so slim? Well, of all his more recent acquaintances, Rory was sure that this particular youth would actually let him stay, instead of turning him away. Besides, he knew that Rory didn’t share his dorm room with anyone, so there’d be space somewhere (and no one else to annoy, or put the kibosh on his plan).
Things didn’t always go so smoothly…having him being dragged into his prospective abode for the night. People could be awfully cranky and selfish late at night. They could turn a poor sod out into the rain, to walk the long way back to his dank, dark and draughty warehouse.
Not that anyone actually knew that was where he lived. Some people would probably grow a lot more accommodating if they knew the truth of things. A good situation, you might think, for one such as Rory…but no. That sort of hospitality was how it started, and he didn’t want to end up a charity case. He wasn’t. He could look after himself. It was simply when things got a bit dire that he called on friends. And even then, it wasn’t to be a burden! This was a social call, as well as an excuse to get out of the cold and the rain and the wind. Just being within the walls of Fletcher hall was good for him. He could feel the tips of his fingers again, and he was sure that his feet would remained attached to his legs, instead of dropping off at any moment.
“Yes, Jude, Rory,” he agreed, with a little grin. As his eyes glanced up and down the other, the grin grew a bit broader. Shameless (and indiscriminate) flirt that he was, he would have let his eyes linger. Instead Rory acted as though he’d seen nothing, like Jude was standing there fully clothed. He didn’t want to make his friend feel uncomfortable. Or rather, any more uncomfortable than he already would feel. There was no mistaking the squeak in the boy’s voice when he’d opened the door and seen someone on the other side, as though that was a surprise when answering a knock.
“Is this a bad time?” His head turned this way and that, looking around the small accommodation.
“Have you got someone over?”
Though he asked the question, Rory doubted it. Jude seemed to have a hard enough time making friends, let alone taking lovers. A proper partner (girlfriend or boyfriend, Rory hadn’t quite figured the other bloke out yet) was out of the question enough; let alone a random bed warmer for the night!
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