#dicefall

    He hadn’t given much information as he had called the other to ask if he could come over. Neither had he said that he would probably stay for a while. First he needed to get away from his ‘home’, or what used to be his home. He didn’t have many he could try to ask to stay over, but Near would be the first to ask. He would be the one to ask the least amount of questions anyway.

     Knocking upon his door, he put his bag down for a moment. He had only packed a couple of clothes and some belongings (along with half of the chocolate stash they had at home). It would be enough to survive at least a week, he thought. And as the door opened, he let out a sigh, not a smile to be seen at his features.

                 the ivory of his teeth grind, & so tension grips at his jaw - but that tension is transient, is unseen. indeed, his lips are curled just so: a self-carved expression of amiable & sober proficiency. tensions stem from vague frustration . . . & from temporary blindness; admittedly, it had by his own volition that he had conceded ( had offered ) to the blindfold for this initial meeting. however, to be deprived of his senses is grating. 

    Ever since his last act he had gone off the radar, had disappeared from all      those who had been following him. Where he went? Simply his old apartment,      though none of them seemed to know where it was. And it wasn’t that he cared      until he had fallen into a black hole of which he couldn’t climb out himself. Not      only were the police looking for him now, he had also received several threats      from associates of the Mafia, calling him responsible for the death of their       ‘suppliers’. 

     But he could handle threats and the police. He could handle anyone looking      for him and wanting him dead. The only thing that was worse than anything      else was that he had lead his best friend to death, that it was his plan, and      thus his fault, that Matt got killed. The roles should have been switched instead,      as it should have been a suicide mission on his part... it was something that      kept gnawing on him.

     Fingers trembled as they brushed the numbers on his phone, slowly pressing      the digits of Halle’s number, as she was the only one he could think of that could      help him out of this -- which was already a miracle, as he would otherwise never      ask for her help, especially knowing who she’s working for. He hesitated for a      moment, his finger hovering over the dial button, before he actually pressed it,      only hoping for the best. Once the other picked up the phone, he spoke in a      soft tone.

     Four was good, but not good enough.

     The other children were away, playing in the vast courtyard by kicking around a football and exercising their bodies just as much as their minds. Only Near (he was the first, the ultimate goal) remained inside, surrounded by a protective layer of toys. It was perfect really, and the opportunity given to him would not be so easily passed up. Placing a well-practiced smile on his features, the boy allowed himself closer to the quiet albino. Hands were clasped politely behind his back and a small clearing of his throat was given to capture the other's attention.