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@forgotteninlegend
I thought I asked you to stop listening to me think? You might overhear what I think about you, and then you’d be heartbroken.
And how many times have I told you--it doesn't work like that.
Besides it was an expression. Of my own concoction, but that's beside the point. We are here to discuss whatever ails that clever mind of yours, so let's have it. What's got you up here fit to brood till the end of days?
If you think any louder, Arthur, you're sure to wake the dead.
Sixth grade science fair. I believe you even tried to turn it in as a project afterwards.
Oh right. Man, that was a good project. I definitely would've gotten an A if Jennings hadn't been such a skeptic.
Tenth grade.
There's no way I've used alien abduction, yet--right?
You used that excuse twice since eighth grade. I think they’ve caught on by now.
Kidnapped?
We can’t just skip class whenever you don’t feel like it’s going to be a life lesson worth of a class. Kyle Kyle!
It'll be fine. No one will miss me. Just say I died, or something, yeah?
Do you know how to throw a ball in a straight line?
Wha--so--n--what does it matter if I can, or not? There's no reason for me to ever know how to get ahead in life. Ipso facto--I vote we skip and call it a day.
Education. You know, what normal people do when they don’t test our of all their classes. They have to educate themselves.
How is learning the way to throw a ball in a straight line education?
Physical edu--what?
…Kyle. We’re not on a plane and neither of us have ever been pilots. Are you feeling okay?
I'm certainly feeling...something.
If I'm not driving the plane, and you're not driving the plane. Then who is?!
Wes’ eyes widened for a flash when Kyle smacked his mouth, and then he quirked an eyebrow. Honestly, he hadn’t quite thought far enough ahead to even think of an explanation as to why the other man was sat in a cardboard box staring at a couple of men- and the explanations he came with now he kind of hoped weren’t true. It’d probably be easier if he knew what the building was.
"Right, okay- first, what does it look like? And second… what the hell are you doing in a box?"
"Hah. I'm not falling into that trap...again. What do you think it looks like?" Shifting further down in the box, he grabbed Wes' shirt and pulled him to where he was crouching behind it, further from the thugs' view. "And what does anyone do in a box. Use your imagination." Now was not the time Kyle wanted to be having philosophical discussions about the use of imagination in children's lives and how it pertains to cardboard boxes and adults who join them. Right now he wanted to break into a building, hack their information and get the hell out of dodge. None of which included Wes in the deal.
Strolling through the town at night pick-pocketing drunkards was standard behaviour for Wes. He had to steal to eat, after all, and he hadn’t managed to afford more than the damp room he was currently renting this week. He was feeling a little more relaxed after lifting two rather hefty wallets- god, Wes loved people who drank too much on nights out, because that meant they brought enough money to feed their awful habits- when he realised he’d wandered to a rather emptier part of town, well away from the nightlife.
He spotted the two huge men standing in a doorway and groaned quietly. He didn’t really fancy getting on their bad sides (they looked as if all of their many sides were bad sides, too) on his own. He was about to turn and go back when he heard a quiet huff. That was odd- there didn’t seem to be anywhere else around him.
His curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped forward, careful to keep his footsteps quiet, and he crept towards the source of noise. He honestly had no idea where he was, and this was potentially an awful idea, because if it wasn’t rats as he suspected, he could be in for a bad surprise. But when he got close enough, he was- well, more confused, really. He knew this person. They’d spoken once or twice, because this person was something or other important to Olympia, and Olympia was important to Wes. He cleared his throat quietly.
"Penny for your thoughts, boxman?"
Kyle didn't shriek, he totally didn't shriek, he might've whimpered, but he would deny that such a thing had happened for the rest of his life. Kyle did not shriek, and he did not whimper, but he did slam his hand tight against his mouth and turn to stare up at the last person he expected to see right then.
"This is...not what it looks like."
This had to be the best hiding spot Kyle had found so far, at least this week, and it took all he had not to crow with excitement. The fact that he was supposed to be sneaking around and breaking into said building he was currently spying on kept him silent and watchful. Kyle had the whole thing planned out, he would break in through the back door, hack into the security system, and download whatever files the idiots decided to leave on the computer hidden there. It was genius, he had to admit to himself, but it didn't exactly come with the appearance of two rather large and burly guards who were blocking the door he'd intended to break into. He'd chosen that one because it had been the easiest to pick, his lock picking skills not as up to par as his hacking, so now he was stuck with going through one of the more complex doors, with a fraction of the time he would've had before. Sitting in the darkness, chin in hands, Kyle let out a huff of annoyance and tried to think about how he could change his plan, completely unaware of anyone else coming up behind him. Why would he, his hiding spot was exemplary. No one would think to look for him in the cardboard box tucked in the corner of the alley across from the warehouse. He was a genius. But he was still at a loss.
Standing at the edge of the forest, he moved to lean on a tree, ducking his head to hide the growing grin on his lips. It’d been too long since it was just them, and when he’d asked for a brodate, he had no idea it would be this. Hand reaching up to tug at his curls, wrapping one of the dark strands around his finger, the chuckle finally broke free from the prison of his clenched lips. “Muppet, you’ve got to be kidding.”
"Now, when have I ever been known to joke about anything, K-Mart." Kay should know better than to let Kyle pick what they were going to do that night, it never ended well for the pair of them. And if Kyle had his own agenda that night, well--Kay didn't need to know about it. No one did. Popping out from behind a tree further into the forest, he grinned, "Now be quiet and get over here. We've got some exploring to do!" Not waiting for a response, he was turning back around, backpack filled with snacks and drinks thumping against his legs, and heading further into the trees as the sun slowly set in the distance.
Shut up. You love me.
I say that you need to give her more credit than that, considering she hasn’t killed you yet. And don’t think that she couldn’t because out of the three of us, she’d get away with it too.
{He just groans again}
Why do you think I'm here asking for help rather than trying myself. I'd end up eviscerated in some alley somewhere, and Oly would get off scot free.
[After a few minutes of his knuckles pounding into flesh and bone he lost himself in the action, another part of him took over when he dawned on the realization it wasn’t enough. He could play tough for only so long, before his act would fall apart and the kid, Kyle, would see right through it. He with drew his fist from his face, knuckles raw and bloodied and hand stiff as his nails dug into his palms hard enough to pierce flesh.
Dark eyes studied him, still conscious and still silent he had hoped it would have been enough to get something, anything but he just kept staring at him as if waiting for another blow. He could do it again, and again, and again and he knew he he’d get that same look until he’d gotten more creative. Reaching into his pocket he pulled free a lighter and a pack of smokes, pulling one into his mouth he offered one to the kid.] You smoke?
{Kyle wasn't sure how long the punches lasted, but it couldn't have been longer than a few minutes, though it felt like hours. His body was tight with pain, every nerve thrumming with agony, but he did his best to keep every ounce of it from his face. Channeling the man from his dreams he let the age and wisdom smother him and keep the fear and panic at bay, for the moment at least. Spitting the blood from his mouth to the side, he gave his tormentor the driest look he could muster when half of his face was surely turning a mottled black and red.} You're mom ever tell you that smoking kills?
