Bunsen's Spark

[MK Kilmarnock]

((Liam "Brook" Brooks, continued from Philosopher at the Gazebo ))

Gravity was always a handy concept to understand. For instance, how much force would it take to finally counteract the neck muscles of an unattentive and, frankly, bored high school student before his head finally crashed into the desk?

Brook nearly nodded off once or twice while struggling to pay attention to the teacher's words. Combustion is something that would interest just about any kid, but Brook appreciated the course more whenever he could relate it to something he could use. Situations such as this came a lot less frequently in chemistry than say, biology, which allowed him to brush up on fundamentals of genetics, flowers included. As the teacher mumbled on, Brook's eyes stared off into space, practically looking through his desk as his head gravitated towards it...

A mild 'slam' jolted Brook awake, causing him to look around in surprise. For a brief and terrifying moment, he thought he had just been caught sleeping in class. His heart resumed beating reguarly as soon as he realized that, contrary to his initial thoughts, the teacher had slammed his book shut and announced that it was time for lab. Getting up from his seat, Brook took a few seconds to pop his knees and grab the handout from his desk before heading to the back of the room, where the lab was located.

[TrueSylvaen†]

((Nabain Cullen continued from All that glitters...))

Nabain found combustion to be interesting enough, but usually only for identifying the components one needed to steer well clear of. In order to stave off his memories, he tried to begin diverting the teacher with questions relating to the different types of combustion and duration of the mass dependent of the substance combusting. In particular: Cooking oil, and whether it was possible to use it as a weapon against petty peers wth nothing better to do than sabotage his cooking assignments.

The teacher, used to his sidetracking, simply continued on his present course. Nabain huffed silently and drummed his fingers out of the table, anxious to start moving away from the bulk of the pupils. He knew this would end badly. There were his peers, possessed of extreme cruelty and vindictiveness against the smallest slight, there was him, a superior (But sadly without backup) human being, and there was fire and the materials to create it. Not good. Very bad. Potentially fatal, even.

Non-chalantly as he could, Nabain unbuttoned his cuffs (Laundry day meant long-sleeved shirts) to aid him in removing his clothes should anyone set them alight. The fact that it would make them easier to light meant nothing to him, as he was convinced that by the end of the class, someone would have set them alight.

BASTARDS.

"What have I told you about inappropriate attire in this classroom, Cullen?" The teacher asked, not unkindly. When he failed to register, the teach slammed down the book. Nabain looked up sharply. "It's a detention the next time, Cullen. Everyone, proceed with the experiment from page two-two-nine and report your findings. This can be a group or individual effort, but I want no less than five different lengths of burner tested and measured for flame height. You have half an hour."

Grumbling and with a little terror snagging his heart, Nabain settled off down the back, isolating himself and checking the book. He went to the right of the room, pulling three different burners out and squinting at a rather old specimen. He withdrew a tube, attached it to the gas main, and began to set to work.

"Here's hoping they don't set my book alight... I'm losing my stationery allowance."

[MK Kilmarnock]

Brook's slow manner of transportation and care in choosing a good pair of lab goggles caused him to lag behind, other students taking their spots at various lab benches and setting up their equipment. Group following group formed, some with three members (the normal maximum for the class), some with two, and one student working by himself. Of course, Brook was still oblivious to this until he had found himself a complete set of gear. He smirked in satisfaction of his preparations, at least until he turned to grab a burner...

H... Huh? All the burners are gone? But there has to be at least... awww... great! Great, great, double tee-fucking-riffic... His mind raced, but the rampant activity only served to throw slurs in his own direction. Realizing rather bitterly that this wouldn't aid him in the assignment, Brook shook his head to try and clear the thoughts away. He stepped away from the equipment cabinet slowly, scanning the entire room for an opening. His scouting proliferated with short 'ums', 'ers' and 'uhhs', his teeth clamped down onto his tongue in surprise upon seeing the lonely worker already setting up his burner and beginning.

He hurried to the station, smiling sheepishly as he looked the boy over and set his handout down. "Hey!" He greeted in his usual enthusiastic fashion, though his voice subconciously suppressed itself in respect for the classroom atmosphere. Shifting a little closer to Nabain so he could see just where in the processes they were, Brook made sure to check that his hair was tied back; it was, having been tied back at the beginning of class like usual.

"Hope you don't mind, I got a little sidetracked and this really the only station left I can join. So, where are we?"

[TrueSylvaen†]

"I do mind, boo-hoo for your own incompetence, and why god why?" Nabain answered, not looking up. He pointed to the third paragraph of the assignment handout, "We're here, as the mastermind has set things up. Need to grab yonder ceramic ruler and measure the height, breadth and judge the colour of the flame.".

He reached out, snatching a ruler that was dangling from the loose hand of a chatty girl, "Ruler get. Dr Baldhead has nothing on me when it comes to this stuff." When the girl turned, indignant, Nabain shrugged and pointed to the floor, "You dropped it, Leira. Somebody kicked it under the table." He sniggered when she actually followed his advice instead of demanding to see the ruler he had hastily stuffed down his shirt. His eyes trailed to the round rump that bobbed lightly in search, and smiled cheekily.

"Life, for now, is good."

He turned to his impromptu partner in a rare moment of good mood, extending his hand. "Name's Nabain Cullen. Superior human being."

[Namira]

((One thread at a time please, that goes to both of you. Continue, by all means, but make sure that you keep it to one thread per character in the future))

[MK Kilmarnock]

((@Clueless: Sorry, my mistake. I had started the thread as per request, as I was under the impression that a couple threads in different places were alright. Understood completely, and it won't happen again.
@True: ... Baldhead reference. Nice.))

Brook watched the series of events with a mouth full of his own tongue. Biting his tongue was a bad habit of his given the amount of times he did it per day, but sometimes it was necessary to keep him from having a slip of the mouth and messing up interactions with somebody.

"Dr.... Baldhead? Who were you just t..." Brook shook his head and disregarded the statement. He was all set to get things started before Nabain extended his hand to him. Brook almost took it, even after the things he had just watched, but something with 'superior human being' didn't sit well with him. "Let's just get to work..." he said in the greatest amount of friendliness he could muster through his emotional discomfort, turning to the burner.

"So... you said measuring the height and width of the flame, and then judging its color. You've got the ruler, so I'll take care of the last one unless you care to switch..." Brook assumed. What, exactly, have I gotten myself into?

[laZardo†]

((Cisco Vasquez continued from Shopping from SOTF))

After finishing his business with Nabain, the teacher went over to the front of the room to find a student with a goalie jersey on had just entered. "Mr. Vasquez, you're late. Get some safety goggles, pick a group and turn to page 229."

Cisco Vasquez usually found science class one of the more schizophrenically fascinating classes on his schedule. On the one hand there were the lectures, so frightfully boring and the source of many desk murals. On the other one had the experiments, and all the wonderful ways he could "deviate" after collecting the necessary data. After briefly glancing at all of the partnerships underway, he decided to sit near Nabain the egotist and Brook-Squared the farmboy, finding them the most likely he could have some fun with for this experiment. He picked up a pair of safety goggles and the usual lab gear, before grabbing an unused stool and heading over to his chosen partnership.

While the two were observing and celebrating Nabain's little sleight of hand, the currently green-haired boy was performing a reappearing act, or however he would describe him inching up to their side while perched on a stool. If this went out like he was thinking, they would probably notice him right next to Brook, peering over from the side at their little experiment. Or, as it would soon become, "our" little experiment. Not that he particularly cared about what he was getting into.

[TrueSylvaen†]

"That's more or less the gist of it. And if you wanna put your hands close to fire, I don't mind you disfigurin' yourself." Nabain nodded, "Besides, I once spent a day with a Resene wall guide, I can remember the shades of blue and yellow well enough." He shifted to the left, clearing the way and grabbing the matchbox next to the other burners.

"And if the strangely conspicuous bastard with limey hair would stop breathing down my neck, that'd be sweet." He shot off-handedly, years of being 'attacked' had left his senses on edge, noticing the dude before his peripheral vision did. "Now, Mr Faust, if you and Fanny there-" He jerked a thumb in the direction of the green-haired one as he scrumaged through his bag, "-would be so kind as to light the burner, I can collate some data and understand it."

He pulled out his notebook and a pen, grimacing when the ink refused to flow for a second. "You can collate as well. Just don't get your hopes up with the comprehension. Heh."

[MK Kilmarnock]

((Events seen in this post collaborated on with TrueSylvaen))

Brook popped his own jaw as he set himself to light the burner, a task he was going to do anyway one way or the other... seeing as his 'partner' wouldn't do it.
Faust? Fanny? Nice nicknames this guy gives out. Maybe I'll figure out what the hell he's talking about someday... The thought was unusually bitter for him, but Brook couldn't let the surprise at his own mind take precedence over the experiment.

"So..." Brook began, trying to restart his mind while he fiddled with the burner. "Um, sorry, didn't catch your name..." He briefly turned to Cisco to indicate just who he was talking to, then turned back. "Quite the way to meet, nice to have you aboard and all that. I guess while I'm setting the burner and adjusting it, you can measure whatever... Nabain..." He was sure he remembered it correctly. "Whatever Nabain doesn't measure."

Brook was forced to stop for a moment... when was the first time he touched the valve? How open was it before it was hooked up to the main? He cupped an ear to listen for hissing, a search that came up silent. Satisfied, he opened the valve all the way, grabbed a match, struck it, and reached out at full arms-length to light it...

Unbeknownst to Brook, Nabain or Cisco, the burner had let out far more gas than any of them had estimated. Because of the gas's weight, it had secretely spread out over the lab table rather than upward, invisible to the naked eye. Nobody could have known it was there, and nobody did... at least, until it was far too late. Time practically appeared to slow down for Brook as he watched, horrified, the flame jump from the burner, across the table and, as though seeking a target, directly onto Nabain's low-hanging sleeve.

"Christ!!!" Brook shouted, frantically searching for the emergency shutoff valve. He looked back to Nabain for a moment, horrified, before resuming the search.

[TrueSylvaen†]

It didn't occur to Nabain that the sudden heat on his wrist and forearm meant something was wrong, and the shout meant little to him, he barely raised his head. Until he heard the the tiny pops, the hissing, the sudden and growing antipressure on his skin that his memories kicked in. Scars all over his feet, up his calves, flesh dripping off for days, laughing children, images that kicked him out of his seat and flung towards the water drains in the chemical bench. Halfway there, he looked down at his arm, the sight shut out the gasps of the other pupils as he stared.

Fire. Fire. Fire on me. On my arm. Pain extremely intense. Pain growing. Fire. High fire. Fire. Burning me. Again. I'M ON FIRE!!!

"SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!!!" He screamed, arm flailing in front of him. He turned the nozzle of the thin hose and rammed the limb against the outlet, hissing in agony and the flames slowly died out from the saturated fabric. ten seconds later, he rolled the sleeve up to survey his blistering flesh and whimpered at the occasional charred spots on his forearm. The teacher, telling everyone to stay away from the man and ordering the burner to be brought to the front desk, took him by the arm and dragged him out to get the injury dressed.

"Everyone, leave the experiment alone for today, there might be something up with the gas valves. Come on Nabain, it was just an unlucky accident." The teacher reassured him, disturbed at the boy's twitching right eye and building tears. Nabain raised a finger, teeth bared as he held his burnt arm close to his chest.

"Accident, my ass. That miserable fuck did this. I don't forget. I never forgive." He murmured in a chesty, hiccing snarl.

"That's enough. Everyone, return to your seats."

The door closed, and the shocked rumblings of teenage conversation slowly resumed.

[laZardo†]

((Ye seem to have broken turn order. Oh well.))

"...And if the strangely conspicuous bastard with limey hair would stop breathing down my neck, that'd be sweet."

!

Cisco? What's going on? CISCOOOOOOOO!

The dramatic overtures inside Cisco's mind did not necessarily translate out into voice. "Fanny Vasquez. Nice to meet you all," he replied in a friendly tone, holding out his hand. Not that they replied as friendly anyway, as they were already busy setting up the experiment...one whose safety protocols he was paying attention to as much as both of his seatmates.

The "limey" reflexively fell over backward (and moved his arms as such) from the blast of the flare-up, landing roundly on his backside. He winced and groaned as pain shot up his arms to his shoulders upon landing, though luckily nothing was sprained, strained or broken during this fall. He didn't notice Nabain running toward the sink and being assisted out as he tried to get up.

As soon as his legs were ready, he went for the emergency cut-off valve, which was right under the burner. This despite the fact that more gas could as well be leaking out of the valve right now. He moved slowly, trying not to cause any more pain in his arms as he peered around the cabinet underneath the table for the valve. Contact with Brook, thus, was inevitable and he found himself bumping shoulders with the supposed instigator.

"Well...that was interestin'." Cisco muttered with a bit of a smirk.

[MK Kilmarnock]

((I suppose we can reset it.))

Brook sighed in relief once the excess gas was mostly burnt off, shivering greatly from what had just happened. Standing there and staring dumbly for the table where they had once been holding the experiment, he tried to run through the events that transpired only seconds ago, but it was almost like there was a chunk of his memory missing. Nabain was talking, 'Fanny' showed up, some more talking, Brook got angry but held it in... then fire.

"... Uh..." He turned to the green-haired boy who had remained calm enough to turn off the valve, backing up so they wouldn't have to bump against one another. "Is your name... really Fanny? I mean, you don't have to introduce yourself as whatever that guy called you."

This conversation was the only thing Brook could do to get the constant image of Nabain running out of the room from his mind. "That guy... he's okay, isn't he? He's going to be fine?"

He still couldn't shake the feeling that he was in some sort of trouble.

[laZardo†]

Cisco was fortunate enough to find the valve, backing off as soon as he was sure it had been shut. He backed off from under the table and propped himself upward, grabbing the table surface to help him get back on his feet, before perching back on his lab stool. His attention was quickly diverted toward the door, where he could just see Nabain snarling something unintelligible at the teacher outside. Conversely, some of the other students were casting weary glances back in Cisco and Brook's direction, almost as if either one of them was the jynx that set Nabain off (along with the fire that disfigured him).

Of course, the "limey" didn't pay any attention back to them, as Brook had started replying to his comment.

"Is your name... really Fanny? I mean, you don't have to introduce yourself as whatever that guy called you."

"I can be Fanny if you want me to be," he replied, grinning and moving his backside around in place so that he knelt on his lab stool almost seductively.

"That guy... he's okay, isn't he? He's going to be fine?"

"Oh, him?" Cisco suddenly dropped the seductive tone, taking another brief glance out the door before leaning in a bit toward Brook, "He's always paranoid like that. It's not healthy for him, but he seems to enjoy it. Aaaaand speaking of which...what inspires you to carry out random acts of disfigurement?"

That last sentence was said in a tone that did not even imply suspicion, in fact it almost sounded like the events that just transpired were quite entertaining to Cisco.

[MK Kilmarnock]

Brook breathed a ragged sigh, reaching around behind him for his own stool to sit on. His own two legs were wobbling to the point where he couldn't rely on them to have the stability required for staying upright. His hand groping around for a few seconds, his fingertip finally grasped a round, solid piece of metal and pulled it towards him. Seating himself on the stool, the troubled boy then let out another sigh. Somewhere in his head, Brook imagined himself as an overheated machine that, every time he sighed, a little bit of that heat buildup vented away. Granted, it was probably annoying to listen to him sigh ten times in a row, but that was a risk he was willing to make at the current given time.

The only thing that could possibly make this situation worse was that the stares from everybody else in the class amplified the feelings that Brook should somehow be to blame. Was he negligent with the burner, or was Nabain? It was too hard to tell by this point, but Brook had to accept some responsibility. After all, he WAS the one that lit the burner in the end, setting off the spark. He still wouldn't admit it out loud, but maybe had he been more careful, Nabain would still be in class. In class and making his snarkly little comments or his derogatory statements- NO! Brook shook his head, flicking his left wrist with two of the fingers on his right hand as punishment for thinking in such a way. Following this, he opened his eyes and looked up at Cisco. Now wasn't the best time to look, though...

"I can be Fanny if you want me to be"

"E-Eh?" Brook shifted around on his stool, looking at Cisco with a large amount of uncertainty... and a dash of repulsion. "Are you.... serious, man?" After a few minutes, though, a smirk began to cross his face. This kid seemed to be something else and, as fucking random as he was, he was an entertaining guy... even if he wasn't the kind to become best friends forever with Brook, which he very well COULD be, he could at least get used to the 'limey' kid.

"... what inspires you to carry out random acts of disfigurement?"

The still-fleeting grin was crushed underneath a scowl that, while showing mostly pent up irritation being released, also displayed a bit of Brook's worries. "Hey, I didn't try to disfigure him, alright, it was an accident, get that through your head right now!" He leaned forward on his stool, his voice raised to a position that was less than comfortable. "Don't-" Brook's teeth once again latched onto his tongue, and he looked down in regret. "I'm sorry..." He mumbled, his voice quiet once more while he re-centered himself on his stool. "This just... doesn't happen to me, you know? I didn't mean to yell..."

[laZardo†]

Curiously enough, Brook's interrupted outburst didn't seem to unsettle Cisco, at least not any more than the burst of flame did. He reached out a hand in a manner similar to an alien wanting to make contact with a human specimen...and patted Brook's shoulder in a more unambiguously reassuring manner.

"It's okay. Sometimes we all have to..." at this point his voice sank into an almost seductive growl, briefly raising both eyebrows as he concluded, "...let it out." He didn't indicate whether he meant Brook's rage - or Brook's little "attack" on Nabain. But apparently that wasn't the point.

What had transpired just now had obviously left Brook shaken and disturbed, and the resulting mannerisms obviously left Cisco even more fascinated with his lab partner - in a manner much more scientific than platonic or even homoerotic. That did not mean that he didn't at least sympathize for his pseudo-guinea pig, at least for the moment.

"But really, you can call me Fanny if you'd like," he continued, smiling rather cheerily. "People also call me Cisco, but whatever suits you best, dear."