Hiding Out (open)

[Trent Frey]

Lyric stood alone somewhere in the upper floors of the castle, in a corridor that was blessedly silent, surrounded by a cloud of smoke. Anyone looking through that cloud would probably walk away, just from the look of him. Yes, he was tall and too thin, but everything from the dragon-tooth choker at his neck to his studded wristbands, black nails, and carelessly unlaced combat boots said to leave him alone. His thick black eyeliner and teased hair had sent more than a few first-years heading wide-eyed in the opposite direction.

A few months ago, he'd have felt bad about that kind of reaction. He'd have forced a smile to ease their minds, knowing how different he was—how different he looked—especially here. A few months ago, he hadn't been smoking. He'd been clean then, and trying to be someone he wasn't.

Now, his hip was propped against a windowsill as he looked out over the grounds and took another drag. Or, rather, he looked at the persistently falling snow. It was why he was inside instead of out. And damned if it didn't look like he'd be snowed in. His few days hiding out from London might be a bit longer than he'd expected.

[Quinn Ashwinder]

Quinn wasn't feeling very well, she'd struck out with just about every person in this school. The boy in the forest, she'd actually be interested in talking to him, and the familiarity had led to her paying more attention to seeing him around the school. Unfortunately he didn't seem to be around the school very much. She couldn't wait until school started again, so she could see why he was so familiar, the niggling thought she should know him was lingering.

Lost in thought Quinn wandered down a corridor, unaware of who was inhabiting it's length. She let out a choking cough as she inhaled some of the smoke to quickly, her eyes lifting from where they had been watching her feet move. Lyric she thought as she squinted at the boy in the hall that now looked more like a boy with the clothing he was wearing. She sighed inwardly at the horrible flop she'd made with him, he'd been the first person that she'd talked to.

If she wasn't so terribly lonely she wouldn't have attempted what she did next, "Lyric?" she asked in a questioning tone. It had been so long since she'd talked to him, and they'd avoided each other in the common room, or rather simply pretended the other didn't exist...at least she had.

[Trent Frey]

Lyric reflexively turned to look, mild confusion setting in only a heartbeat later when he realized he'd been called by his first name. His eyes, lined thickly in black, narrowed, and he turned back just enough to hide his cigarette, to pinch it out and palm it.

"Who are you?" he asked, though it came out more like a demand. She was familiar, but that was it. He stayed to himself enough, and he'd been missing from the dorms enough, that he wasn't even sure she was in his house. And that day by the lake had been forgotten before Jory had even arrived.

[Quinn Ashwinder]

Quinn flinched as she took a step back from him, this was not like the boy she'd met that first day. Then he'd put her at ease, now...well now he was vibrantly male. He still looked odd with make-up, she wasn't used to seeing it on men, but the way he was looking, acting, that was very much aggressively male. "Quinn, I...I'm in your house." If he didn't remember he she wasn't going to tell him that they had met before. It had been such a horrible conversation, she'd scared him off, probably worse than anyone else she'd met here.

[Trent Frey]

Lyric's brows drew together as he looked at Quinn, but he still couldn't place her. "Do you want something?" he asked. He couldn't imagine what, unless the Headmistress had sent her after him for ditching his classes. Or she was looking to buy something, though he couldn't imagine that was the case. He hadn't done that at school, so no one should know.

[Quinn Ashwinder]

Quinn shrugged, "I was just kind of...wandering. If I did want something, it's not like anyone would care anyways. In the entire time I've been here I've gotten two or three people to talk to me more than once." Well maybe four now that Lyric was talking to him again as well. Inwardly she squeezed her brain for something, anything to say to keep this conversation running. "I like your boots," she managed to say, as that was pretty much the first thing she'd noticed since she'd been staring at the floor. She knew it sounded lame, but no one really seemed to want to talk to her, so why bare her soul when they just let. She was still smarting a bit from practically begging the boy in the forest to stay and talk to her, and him sill leaving. It wasn't his fault...but that didn't make it hurt any less.

[Trent Frey]

Lyric's brows didn't ease at the girl's final comment. She liked his boots? She looked about as innocent as Jory, and about half as edgy. Which was saying something, since Jory wasn't edgy in the least. "Thanks," he said dryly. His hand slid into his pocket to stash his cigarette away, but the moment that took didn't provide any answers. "What do you want?" he asked, a slightly different question from last time. Why are you talking to me?

[Quinn Ashwinder]

Quinn shook her head thinking of an appropriately blunt statement, but telling herself again and again that no one seemed to like statements of the obvious. There was always a hidden meaning or something she just didn't get. Her fingers twisted in her hair a moment, wondering since he was talking to her how to get it to continue. "If I said I wanted a friend you'd probably run just like everybody else at the school," she shook her head as she looked out the window that Lyric had been looking out of earlier. "And it sounds creepy to say that I'm a glutton for punishment because I just keep trying." But she needed to be in the presence of someone, and Madison had been gone to visit her muggle family for the holidays.

[Trent Frey]

Lyric's frown remained, but this time he opted not to say anything. If she didn't know his name, he'd pull his cigarette back out and light up to get rid of her, but nothing could get back to his mother. If she found out about anything he'd been doing, he'd be in deep trouble all over again. He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't need friends," he said at last.

[Quinn Ashwinder]

Quinn shrugged, "I don't need friends either. I just need someone to talk to sometimes." She grinned a bit before she looked away, "the conversations in my head aren't nearly as interesting or as self boosting as they could be." Living in her head was a nightmare, but in her head she had to stay, since no conversation she ever started got past her saying things. But she'd see if she could leave this in someone else's ball court for a while.

[Trent Frey]

Lyric had no desire to be a sounding board for some social reject. His own social rejection was, to his current way of thinking, his choice, not a complete inability to relate. "Go talk to Jory," he said. "You'd be perfect together." Jory had always wanted to talk, hadn't he? They both wanted friends, and he knew few enough people that it seemed like enough to go on.

[Quinn Ashwinder]

Quinn half shrugged as she walked over to the window, "don't ask me why. But except for a moment there you don't scare me, and that's half the battle." She chuckled a moment, "besides, I like your hair, and Markise would probably tell me that I need a new style." She didn't know if that was a good offer of a branch or not, and she wasn't sure she'd ever cut her hair...but she did like his hair, and she was drawn to people far more daring than she was.

[Trent Frey]

Lyric's frown only deepened. You don't scare me. He'd never set out to scare anyone, so why did that ony make it worse? An impulsive decision had his cigarette back out, as well as his wand. The former he tucked between his lips, and with the latter and a nonverbal spell, lit it. "You like my hair," he repeated, the cigarette bouncing with the motion of his lips. He held up his wand a moment longer, told the flame to spike hotter a moment, then let it go out, stashing it away in the waistband of his pants. "How crazy are you?" And what was it about her that pissed him off so much?

[Quinn Ashwinder]

Quinn sighed, her eyes darting furitively to the cigarette at his lips, her family didn't smoke around her. But she knew that the men smoked at night, and considered it a manly right. "Pretty darn crazy. I'd rather talk to a bowtruckle than fumble through a conversation, when I can watch myself doing it wrong. I've scared people off in a few minutes before." She shrugged, "but maybe I'm so awkward so that other people can be more skillful." Balance right?

[Trent Frey]

Lyric tilted his head at the girl, completely baffled by her. She hadn't said a word about him lighting up, nor about his little display with fire, but only glanced at the cigarette. "You want one?" he asked, bypassing everything she'd just said. Maybe she'd seen something, though he couldn't imagine when. Maybe she did want to buy. He'd seen people at free parties who didn't look like they belonged, and they had to be somewhere when they weren't there.