St. Ritter School for Boys (ElijahRhodes x imaginationpen)

[imaginationpen]

It wasn't like Benjiman had wanted to go to a school for all boys. It wasn't his choice, yet here he was. Almost instantly, the young boy was making friends, or at least meeting people. He had a very likable face and personality, sweet. His hair was soft, a dark shade of brown, and hung sideways into his bright green eyes. He was almost always smiling, his soft plush and plump and pink lips spread to expose his white and straight teeth (not to mention a bit of gum). In an oddly boyish way, Benjiman was adorable. He was still in his 'casual' clothes, which he was told he could still keep for occasional get-togethers at the school, but was to pick up his uniforms later that day. The uniforms were a pair of black dress pants and a thin, shining leather belt. They were to keep their white shirts tucked in at all times, with a red tie. The jacket, which bore the school’s crest on the left breast, was optional.

Walking with a couple people, he was asked what room he'd been assigned to. "Um, ... 456?"

Everyone went sort of quiet and one boy laughed. 'Good luck man,' He even said.

"What? Why?" They all paused in the hall of the dorms, and they glanced up the stair case in the direction of the room.

'Your roommate is fucking weird.'

Benjiman just chuckled, if a bit nervously. "You guys are funny." He always tried to see the best in people and the silver lining of every situation. After a bit of fair warning, Benjiman started up the steps and finally found his room. The rooms at St. Ritter were quite plain. The walls were painted white besides the far wall, which was made of red brick and housed a small window. Two beds, scarcely bigger than cots, were positioned on each side of the small space with a drawer at each end for personal belongings (and a small closet for clothes) were all the furnishings bestowed upon students at their arrival. Most of the boys, of course, added their own personality to the dorm by adorning it with posters, pictures, or at the very least, a mess---a pile of dirty clothes or a trashcan overflowing with crumpled paper. Using the key card, he opened the door and rolled in his luggage bag. It seemed as though the room was empty, as he did not see another person. Benjiman’s wide green eyes gave the room a careful once over, before taking notice of the two beds to find one without sheets. Benjiman supposed that the open bed was to be his, and so hoisted his luggage upon the thin mattress with a grunt. So… This was home…? Benjiman unzipped the larger portion of his luggage bag, beginning to pull out the sheets he would soon adorn his ‘bed’ with, … if you could even call it a bed.

[ElijahRhodes]

Lucas had always been an outcast. The underdog, the loner, the "freak". He lived in the poorer part of a sprawling urban environment, where the weak were beaten and robbed and the strong learned how to survive. Lucas was one of the strong. He never had to associate himself with anyone, never needed a gang, just himself. People had tended to either try to hurt him or just ignore him, because he was different. The majority of the people who had grown up in his neighborhood were black or hispanic, with a few chinese mixed in occasionally. Everyone listened to either hip hop or rap, but when Lucas shoved that away for classic and punk rock, it only served to further his isolation. His single mother, whom he had lived with until the age of 14, lost custody of him when Social Services busted through the door while she was coked up. They sent him into the foster system, where his adoptive parents soon found they couldn't stand him and so shipped him off to boarding school, which is where he was now, at St. Ritter's school for boys. At 17 years old, he hadn't changed much. Still rebellious, the sleeves of his white school shirt were always rolled up. The aluminium buckle of his belt had been replaced with a cast iron skull, and his black pants replaced with black jeans. He wore his tie a little loose, and never wore the school jacket. His black hair was shaggily cut, giving him a dark, edgy look, accentuated by his prominent cheek bones and dark brown eyes, flecks of gold mixed in with the muddy pools, which match the dark olive tone of his skin.

He walks at his own pace down the hallway to his room, bag slung over one shoulder, hands in his pockets, striding confidently to a bed after a few good hours in shop class. Maybe a shower after the nap on the cold, thin, all around shitty "mattresses" supplied by in the school dorms.

To his own surprise, he found the door to his room already open when he got there. Slowing down to a silent tread, he moved into and leaned against the doorway, watching unnoticed by the boy setting up camp in his room for a few moments, studying him for a moment before saying, "Did you get lost, punk? I believe you're in my room."

[imaginationpen]

The room was eerily quiet considering that it was move in day and all, Benjiman expected that boys would be roaming the halls and making conversation. A piece of his dark chocolate hair had fallen into his eyes and so well manicured fingers found their way to the hair to push it slowly behind his ear. By doing that, Benjiman could now see the dulled sunlight of a fading day breaking through the thin pale curtains which hung over the window. Not bothering to set down the pillow he'd had in his hand at the time, Benjiman turned on his heels to cross the room to the window. Hooking those fingers about the middle of the curtain, he pulled it back to peer out the window. Their room, on the fourth floor, overlooked an expansive courtyard with multiple white painted benches and dark concrete sidewalks. Multiple thin stemmed trees blossomed with fiery red and luscious orange leaves, and some of those leaves littered the yard. The scene was beautiful and calming, and Benjiman hugged his pillow as he lowered his chin onto the comfortable home-piece. He'd not had a window in his room, back home . . .Quietly, Benjiman wondered if he would ever get homesick, and was thinking of home when his quiet time was suddenly interupted by a commanding voice.

(The backview of Benjiman was almost as delectable as the front, for the jeans he wore accented the gentle round of his bottom. Although Ben was coming of adult age, having freshly turned seventeen, his body remained plump with pubesant fat in all the right places (meaning his bottom and thighs). While Benjiman was thin, he had meat where it counted.)

Benjiman's breath caught in his throat, and he dropped the curtain from it's peel back, to spin on his heels and meet the speaker. Benjiman's eyes were wide with surprise as his slender arms continued to clutch the pillow. Punk? He had never been called that before. Benjiman's eyes traveled over the stranger who so rudely announced themselves. This boy looked hard - his overall expression and attitude seemed calloused. Benji was not scared. "...Well, Hello then. You must be my roommate?" Benjiman crossed back towards the doorway, settling his pillow back onto his bed as the right hand that had once cradled the soft mass was extended, his fingers thin and delicate. "M'name's Benjiman, ... " He said, expecting a handshake. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Benjiman's smile was second to none, white as a pearl and so sparkled as a polished one. His eyes were nonthreatening, but soft and accepting. He assumed that his new roommate was just giving him a hard way. We'll be friends soon enough, Benjiman hypothesized enthusiastically.

[ElijahRhodes]

Lucas enjoyed the view of Benji's rear from where he was standing, and when the boy - That's what he was, sure enough, Lucas thought - turned at the sound of his voice, Lucas even considered his face to be cute. Disgustingly cute. Lucas instantly garnered a dislike for the kid, and when his hand stretched out for a shake, Lucas simply stared at him, not much taller than the boy, but his confident aura would gave most people the impression that Lucas loomed imposingly over them. He considered actually shaking the boy's hand, but only for a moment. Instead, he just brushed past him, and dumped his bag at the foot of his bed. He gestured to the drawer space by the made-up bed.

"This is my stuff. Don't touch it. The closet is full of my stuff. Don't touch it. Your shit goes hear," Lucas gave Benji's drawer a little kick. "Or it goes under your bed. Understand?"

[imaginationpen]

Benjiman felt as though he were standing there, offering his well manacured fingers for hours. He was not stupid. Benjiman was able to feel his roommate's eyes boring into him like a cat watched a bird with distasteful want, on the other side of a window. The silence grew unnerving, and Benjiman was about to jerk away his hand when his shoulder was so boldy brushed with a force that turned him slightly sidewards. His smile, which had lost it's shine during the wait, turned inexistant as Benjiman lowered his arm back to his side. Benji adjusted his legs nervously, shifting his weight.

When this stranger announced that the right side of the room (if looking in from the door) was his, Benjiman lowered his chin in a slow nod. He winced visibly when his dresser drawer was kicked, and swallowed collected spit hard. "... Y-Yes ... I understand," He said. Benjiman's voice was boyish, but soft all the same. Ben turned on the roommate, and reached back to his things. He next pulled out a thick fleece blanket which was a teal blue on the underside and a mixtured of colored dots on the upper side. Carefully, the blanket was sat at the head of the bed. Next, he would begin to remove his clothes in order to figure a way to pack them all into the dresser. The silence between them was uncomfortable to Benjiman, but he did not want to incite conversation again with the ill tempered boy.

[ElijahRhodes]

Lucas watched Benji set out his things for a moment or two, then gave a derisive snort, "Never thought they had the balls to give me a roommate..." He rolled his eyes and bent down to grab his Ipod from his bag. It was an old one, but big, nearly packed all the way to its 120GB brim. Lucas flopped onto his back on his cot with a solid whump on the thin mattress and, at best, rickety support. He waited for his Ipod to turn on, then started shuffling his way through a very long song list to find something he wanted to listen to.

[imaginationpen]

The balls to give him a roommate? ... Benjiman took the the words with a grain of salt. He felt that his roommate, whom he still did not know the name of, was just trying to seem tough. It was obvious that he had worked up a 'hard ass' reputation and that many boys in the school were wary of him. Benjiman wondered if it was just an act.

Once all of his bedsheets were unpacked, and his clothes put away, Benjiman set to putting his sheets on the mattress. Benjiman had a lot of blankets, as he enjoyed the comfort of those blankets wrapped around him late at night. It took him a good ten minutes to get the sheets stretched over the mattress, having a hell of a time at it. Finally, he put his pillow at the head of the bed and covered the bed with three comforters, and then the fleece blanket folded thinly at the foot of the bed. Finished, Benjiman sat down on the bed with a satisfying sigh. His bright eyes lifted and found their way to his roommate, watching him lie and listen to his music.

[ElijahRhodes]

Lucas finally selected something hard and loud and punk, a song by the Misfits. He turned it up to full and plugged himself in, escaping into his own little world. Lots of people think that people who listen to angry music are angry people, but that's not true. Lucas just didn't like people. He noticed Benji looking at him, and turned down his music. "Am I fucking glowing or something? What are you looking at?"

[imaginationpen]

Benjiman had not meant to stare! He had not even felt as he had been watching his roommate for that long. When the boy's attention fell back to him, Ben lowered his head and sunk backwards. The words were harsh and again Benjiman felt be littled. "Ahh!" He peeped, struggling to find an excuse. "I was just, ah! ... watching." He had no other excuse, as he stood and his limbs were tight. "I... I'm going to go for a walk." And Benjiman was out the door before he could even finish the last word of his statement.

Everyone was right. His roommate was a freak. Or maybe Benjiman's perceptions of his roommate were decieved due to the things that had been said about him before they had even met. Benjiman was gone for close to thirty minutes. The sun had gone on a quick downward turn, as he found himself sneaking back into the room. Ben quietly removed his shoes, and lay out upon his back on the bed. Struggling not to look in his roommate's direction (should he be in the room), Benjiman wondered if his roommate would ever disclose his name, or if they could hold a decent conversation.