Nicholas gritted his teeth as his gaze traveled down to the floor. Once again, he had gotten trapped inside one of those stupid stand-offs where everybody involved agreed on what they wanted, but nobody wanted to actually be the one to say it. The worst part was that he couldn't complain about it either. Even if it was only in his head, it was still somewhat embarrassing to get mad about the situation when he was just as much a part of the problem. Unfortunately, once again it fell to him to do the frustrating job of pushing everyone into doing what they were already planning to do anyway.
After a moment of awkward silence, his head tilted back up. He gave a little cough into this hand as he glanced between Raj and Boston, pushing himself to speak despite how much he wished he didn't have to. "Well, looks like we've got a plan then. Let's go." He gave Raj a light tap on the shoulder before heading for the door, the items he was carrying somehow feeling twice as heavy as they did before he came in here. As he reached the exit, he turned, focusing his attention on Boston and raising a hand in a gesture that, despite the words that followed, seemed more like a farewell than an invitation.
"You're welcome to come with us if you want, by the way."
Nicholas went silent. He didn't think Boston was interested in tagging along, and, truth be told, he didn't really want to take the guy with him either. All the same, though, it felt rude not to at least extend the offer, even if it was more of a token of goodwill than a serious proposition. Politeness did have its limits, though, and the thought of staying here another minute was stiflingly uncomfortable. Without waiting for the reply that he already knew was coming, he turned, heading off down the hallway.
((Nicholas Cameron continued in Things Fall Apart))
I Don't Hate My Body, I'm Just Afraid of It
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Moderator: SOTF: Cyber Staff
Nicholas did the right thing. And Raj was thankful for that.
"Right." he replied. He turned, then wavered a moment as Nicholas headed out. "Like he said, come if you want to." he added, directing his words at Boston. "''Cause it might be dangerous alone... you know..."
There. Invitation extended. Now the ball was in Boston's court. If Raj stayed to try and coax Boston into joining them, it would be tantamount to abandoning both Nicholas and C. And yet...
He hurried after Nicholas, his conscious not entirely soothed. But what else could he do? Then, for a brief moment, his imagination conjured up an idea. A vision of him collecting each of his classmates and bringing them together. How he might guide them into working as a team, to help each other instead of...
And then the moment passed. He had stopped walking. He was acutely aware that that idea was a complete fantasy. He couldn't do that. He hadn't even been able to initiate inviting Boston - Nicholas had had to do it for him.
But maybe there was a way, he mused, and briefly touched the sunglasses in his jacket pocket.
Then he hurried along.
[Raj continued elsewhere.]
"Right." he replied. He turned, then wavered a moment as Nicholas headed out. "Like he said, come if you want to." he added, directing his words at Boston. "''Cause it might be dangerous alone... you know..."
There. Invitation extended. Now the ball was in Boston's court. If Raj stayed to try and coax Boston into joining them, it would be tantamount to abandoning both Nicholas and C. And yet...
He hurried after Nicholas, his conscious not entirely soothed. But what else could he do? Then, for a brief moment, his imagination conjured up an idea. A vision of him collecting each of his classmates and bringing them together. How he might guide them into working as a team, to help each other instead of...
And then the moment passed. He had stopped walking. He was acutely aware that that idea was a complete fantasy. He couldn't do that. He hadn't even been able to initiate inviting Boston - Nicholas had had to do it for him.
But maybe there was a way, he mused, and briefly touched the sunglasses in his jacket pocket.
Then he hurried along.
[Raj continued elsewhere.]
Once the two left, Boston put his lunch back down and sighed. There was probably safety in numbers, but there was also definitely danger in numbers, especially when he didn't know what the numbers were up to. Besides, he didn't need to stay around with staunch reminders of his own inadequacy at Sycamore, he felt like shit enough already.
The moment he heard the footsteps fade, he pulled out the knife again. He never got to test it, so he needed to try. With one part of his pant leg pulled down, he pushed an approximation of where the knife existed into where the underwear sat, the pair he could not take off. It was a sensation that betrayed his senses, because on his end he could feel a knife pressing against his skin, and on the knife's end he could feel the scrape of fabric. There was someone who couldn't be trusted here, and before he could even consider who was wrong he jutted the knife further in.
That was when the pain began - he immediately ripped the knife out and threw it across the room as his underwear began to bleed.
"FUCK!"
His hands grasped to close the new wound in his leg. None of this was real, but it definitely felt real. And if he died, that would feel real as well, so maybe he should avoid that.
So what exactly was the plan now? Boston didn't know. He'd spent some time pacing back and forth in that robotics lab to try and figure something out, and by the time he'd left he'd come up with nothing. The only thing that resembled a plan was when he returned back to the robotics lab several minutes later, realizing that his invisible knife was laying around somewhere, and he silently looked back and forth, dividing up the room by sections to search as he braced his grip for an accidental cut of the knife.
((Boston Sullivan continued in He's Leaving Home))
The moment he heard the footsteps fade, he pulled out the knife again. He never got to test it, so he needed to try. With one part of his pant leg pulled down, he pushed an approximation of where the knife existed into where the underwear sat, the pair he could not take off. It was a sensation that betrayed his senses, because on his end he could feel a knife pressing against his skin, and on the knife's end he could feel the scrape of fabric. There was someone who couldn't be trusted here, and before he could even consider who was wrong he jutted the knife further in.
That was when the pain began - he immediately ripped the knife out and threw it across the room as his underwear began to bleed.
"FUCK!"
His hands grasped to close the new wound in his leg. None of this was real, but it definitely felt real. And if he died, that would feel real as well, so maybe he should avoid that.
So what exactly was the plan now? Boston didn't know. He'd spent some time pacing back and forth in that robotics lab to try and figure something out, and by the time he'd left he'd come up with nothing. The only thing that resembled a plan was when he returned back to the robotics lab several minutes later, realizing that his invisible knife was laying around somewhere, and he silently looked back and forth, dividing up the room by sections to search as he braced his grip for an accidental cut of the knife.
((Boston Sullivan continued in He's Leaving Home))
