#biyondo

He clutched the black receiver against his chest, his heart thudding against his curled fingers just a layer below. Had it not been for the grace of dim lighting and some benevolent bias, he probably wouldn’t have been able to slip by their elder unnoticed..

—– It was only a day ago, the first time they shared lunch. A shaky attempt by Alternative to resolve the incivility he felt towards the other for the threat he posed. He dared not wonder if it was mutual for fear of it dissolving the illusion that he could keep up this taciturn, polite demeanor forever. 

“You look like you’re ready for church.” He heard the second speak from the other side of the table abruptly.

“…” It took him a split second to realize he had been spoken to, they had sat in silence for at least ten minutes with him trying to look busy. He then realized he was referring to the neatly fitted sweater vest and white collared button up he had probably seen him in half a dozen times by now. "Well, you look like you’re ready for a funeral.“ He replied. It felt instinctual. But, realizing he had dropped his polite manner, he tried to clean it up with nervous laughter. “We match. I guess we both look like we’re ready to meet God.”

"Is that what the book is for? If it’s a confessional, you must have a lot of secrets.” The nervousness softened at how the insult seemed to have rolled right off the others back. His attention was on the large, battered, note stuffed book at A’s side.

“It’s Bioethics.” A said, turning it towards the other.              "Is that practical?" 

“Well, …I’ll be reading it in some corner during the next kids birthday. I look less alone when I appear busy.” In an attempt to be relatable, he had become too honest. He almost regretted, feeling exposed as though he revealed a vulnerability.

“Oh? You could get other uses out of it.”       “…That so?”                       “Absolutely, … I gather you could get, what - a hundred-twenty-five newton’s out of it if you dropped it out the second story?” Wammy’s second was lifting the book up and down, as though trying to gauge it’s weight. His expression was mockingly serious. “It’s got to be at least five kilograms." 

”… You’re suggesting I weaponize an ethics book?“ He asked with some disbelief as he watched the other pick up the open jam jar, though he had already consumed the bread he brought to the table several minutes ago.  

  “Well, you did say we both look ready for a service. At least, then you wouldn’t have to sit alone all the time.”

His rival dipped his fingers right into the sticky substance without hesitation and brought them to his mouth. Alternative’s sharp gaze softened suddenly and he felt the smile form on his lips as a strange sense of comfort that he couldn’t recall ever having felt formed in his chest. He did dare to hope that the comfort was mutual and would replace the tense unfamiliarity. It was so unapologetically natural that he forgot about propriety all together, forgot about pretending to be busy.

"Might get close to a hundred-thirty if we took it to the roof. Actually, it doesn’t contradict it’s purpose.. I think keeping podiatrists and chiropractors gainfully employed may in fact be an incredibly practical use for a bioethics book.” The other prodigies gaze shifted up to meet his with a hint of surprise. Then came the strangest smile in between smooth licks, it felt like a secret shared between thieves.

But the moment was short.       Alternative’s attention was drawn to the table a few feet away where a group of their peers sat, eyes meeting with a very different returned humor that he couldn’t register. He then looked back to B as though he knew the punchline. B’s fingers tucked into his mouth, his head turned to take in the table that distracted the other.

                     Suddenly, the occupants laughed sharply. A felt himself flinch this time. The comfort slowly turned into something heavy, his heart dropped and he felt very cowardly. He was a strange child. The Second child was strange child. But the difference was B wasn’t hiding his strangeness behind a shy, withdrawn façade.                            And the other’s wouldn’t let that go unpunished. –

A head count had already been taken when he saw his roommate get up and venture out the door in the middle of the night. But it was when he hadn’t returned, curiosity got the better of A. With the excuse of going to the library to pick up a book, he went in search of the other. The polished floors lost in the darkness of the hallway, windows casting long shadows in a deeper obsidian. He did not call out for the other, not wanting to disturb the eerie calm of motionless night.

    But he didn’t have to.     The sound of several screams and Roger’s murmuring disrupted the silence. He followed the sound to the lower floor. It was there he finally caught sight of his missing roommate. He was standing, back tuned to him as he faced their haggard looking administrator who extended an open palm towards him. 

Alternative approached, taking notice of something the other prodigy had tucked behind his back… What he could not have known was that Roger had been reassuring the children downstairs that there was no monster and the sounds they had heard in the night were simply the house settling. Upon wishing them sweet dreams, there came a monstrous ‘Goodnight’ from under one of their beds. Roger was now on the hunt for the match to the walkie-talkie he’d found.

It was a rebellious impulse, a decision made without considering the consequences. In one fluid motion, his finger’s brushed and snatched, and it was done…                Hidden in a slide of hand, going from his back to side to chest. Gaze unwavering, the panic just beneath the surface. A walked past the elder as though he intentionally avoided getting involved. It wasn’t until he turned the corner and the fear of being caught began to dilute. 

Alternative looked down at the singular walkie-talkie in his hand and finally manages to smile, duping-delight taking over. The feeling of getting away with it was matched with a sense of … second hand vindication.

Duping delight playing out on the thin lips of the taciturn teenager that stood thumbing the plastic with impatience, he was slowly giving up the game. He flipped it over and held it fixed between thumb and forefinger. Not even the rude, raucous, resourceful R could hope to meet Wammy’s Second less than half way.

"As promised, I don't piss where I live." Came an unprovoked response to an unspoken accusation. Perhaps, R was trying on some adult vulgarity in attempt to inflate his daring to B-level indomitability, a last ditch effort to keep his peer from taking advantage.

But they both knew from the moment B refused to meet him half until he saw the product, he was defining the terms of engagement. Now showing his hand, R had yielded in good faith to one that was unlikely to care one way or another if they became enemies, pissing where he lived would be R’s mess to clean up.

"I.. assume you've something for me?" The peer inquired, hoping that Backup might offer without him having implore or press further. One fraudulent, high quality Identification card in exchange for 10 grams of thallium nitrate.. 95% purity.

oh hm yeah i can see how you might feel that way. i don't know how difficult it is for you to talk to her, but you could try to talk this out with her to make sure things are okay? affirmation + reassurances always help.

biyondo replied to your post “sometimes i feel guilty by going by the same name as roscura? but its...”

and for? relatability, i suppose: i use a name a system mate is known by (but doesn't really use) that either of us could be called so i think i can.... Understand

is it this one http://tsundora.com/image/2014/05/yowamushi_pedal-100.jpg or this one https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CBCa1AvWsAA41zS.png:large ?

it's small atm but ! http://biyondo.tumblr.com/tagged/roscura

we use statcounter on some of our blogs so ye!

okay! good! i was p worried tbh. i hope he loses interest and stops it. cringes a lot