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[3rd Long] Evan Issac, Raven (Stan Marsh), and eventually Josh Myers

Summary: Raven returns to the dorm after a particular IM conversation with Henrietta only to find Evan there. After a few days of little interaction, they finally begin to talk, albeit things go from civil talk to sexual to fighting to sadistic pretty fast. Before they know it, Raven's pushed a little too far, too deep and needs rescuing from certain death from a certain TP loving roommate.

　

Takes Place: Friday, August 17th, evening.

Raven

Raven pushed casually through the dorm door, a twig or two still caught, a mess, on his black hair and dark clothing. He was in the middle of taking a drag on his cigarette, shoving idly through the room in the same large combat boots, dark pants and shirt he'd been wearing since he'd arrived; without a word tossing himself onto "Stanley's" old bed, propping his feet at the far end and not bothering to put the cigarette out. The boy honestly didn't seem to care who he disturbed, albeit glancing to the side to try and catch sight of either Dylan or Evan. It had honestly been a hectic hell of a couple of days, and not something he was at all enjoying. Not in a conformist dirtbag hell like this. Still, he'd just finished talking with Henri, and he was trying...at least. To make some kind of difference. Some sort of change.

Evan Issac

As to be expected, Evan was keeping a low profile in the shitty darkness that was the Ron Jeremy dormitory. The young man was not a stranger to reverting to hermit tendencies when he was not up to making life more miserable for the conformists. Currently, he was alone, Dylan elsewhere. He had been drifting in and out of sleep, feeling particularly lethargic. The sound of another entering the room caused Evan to stir, his frigid eyes opening in the dark. His bleary gaze took note of Raven on the nearby bed. "Come to lick at my heels, killer?" he greeted before yawning, not bothering to cover his mouth.

Raven

Raven took a rather long drag, as if letting Evan stew on the second before answering. When he did, it was dull, hinted on a slight of irritation. "Lick at your heels? Seems in this conformist hell you already have Dylan for that nonsense." As he spoke, a waft of smoke poured out between his teeth, the boy looking off darkly without turning to his dormmate. The only other one there for the moment, it seemed. "Or am I wrong? Guess you could always find someone else." He seemed particularly bitter about something, but didn't speak up on the subject, also keeping his tone somewhat smooth.

Evan Issac

"Aren't you all my droogs?" Evan asked, his voice its typical monotone. It was difficult to tell whether he was serious, but the answer was probably not, and the terminology came from a book Evan was actually partial to. "Yeah, everyone and everything's disposable. Everything fades and dies. Nothing's meant to last." Slowly, Evan sat up and stretched his long limbs on the small twin-sized bed.

Raven

"Droogs? The hell is that." He scrunched his nose slightly, seemingly in still an amount of bitter distaste. Eventually he sideglancing to the taller goth, the boy still continuing to appear on the same griping irritation. "But no. I'm not your anything, you damn shit. The fuck would I ever be."

Evan Issac

"Never mind," Evan replied, rubbing his eyes in an effort to get the sleep out of them. Once he felt a bit more awake, he took a sluggish look at Raven. "Oh, the abuse. I feel so at home," he said in a biting tone. Ironically, the language did remind him of his father. "Was that the status quo in your world?"

Raven

Raven stiffened slightly, looking off. He fell on a pause, still not turning to look over to Evan, gaze turning hard. "...No. Not exactly."

Evan Issac

"You certainly are wounded by our past encounter," Evan pointed out bluntly. "Tell me about us in your world, killer."

Raven

"Whatever..." He dismissed, but his gaze did eventually slide in the other's direction, taking him in, his own face shadowed only on the light of his cigarette. "We were. Roommates." He glanced away, as if indifferent. "Above a shop. Some comformist coffee place. What's there to tell?"

Evan Issac

"You tell me," Evan implored. He reached in the nightstand's nearby drawer and pulled out a pack of black-papered cigarettes. They were not as good as Djarum Blacks, but they were a cheap imitation with his name attached to them--something he had picked up at Beiber Fest at one of the gift shops. They were coffee flavored rather than cotton candy like the Gaga Sticks. "Sounds like a whole story."

Raven

Raven studied the other dully, in an edge of uncertain suspicion, as if not quite being certain on the other goth's motives. Eventually, not breaking his stiff gaze, he shrugged. "When I was nine I became Raven. Left Stanley behind and never went back." He shifted his gaze, staring out in front of him instead and taking another slow drag on his cigarette, as if thinking. "...I guess I've been Raven ever since. What's there to say. We hung out. We fought conformist assholes. Eventually you and me ended up with conformist jobs to try and pay for a place."

Evan Issac

Evan lit his cigarette with his cheap lighter and took a few puffs to get it going, listening to Raven as he spoke. "Wow, so you did not run away to your sunshine fairy tale," he commented, though his voice did not sound interested. "Selling out for a semblance of freedom. Yeah, sounds familiar," Evan decided. "Then you inexplicably ended up here?" He held Raven's gaze the entire time.

Raven

The boy seemed particularly annoyed at the "selling out for sunshine fairy tale bit," but shrugged regardless. "Pretty much. Yea." He seemed to hold on a frown, still as if on his own thoughts. "...it's different, isn't it. This hell hole. Like a rotting conformist prison, a world built in lies devoted to pop idol conformist and corporate culture. Even us, dancing just for the rapt audience to fall in line..." He paused, still looking off, studying the opposite wall and idly tapping ash off his cigarette. "...Henri seems to think we should be giving these other conformists, McCormick, Judas, Mole, some kind of chance. Some kind of...something. Like this hellhole has some worth."

Evan Issac

Evan took an exceptionally long drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke above his head. His attention turned to it, seeming more interested in the way the smoke moved than Stan's face. "Different? Everywhere is hell. Here, you're just on a shorter leash and it's more obvious." Evan digested that bit about Henrietta, taking another puff. "And what are your thoughts on that? Do you think Henrietta's being a slave to some kind of maternal instincts?"

Raven

He shrugged, "I think she's trying to....survive here. Or something." He stretched out on the bed slightly, staring blankly at the ceiling instead. "Kindergoth too seems pretty....into. That wedding."

Evan Issac

"Now that's just bullshit," Evan said very frankly. He put his mouth on his cigarette again. It really was amazing to be smoking something beside sugary garbage. "Are you going to get married?" he asked in a biting way.

Raven

He grinned, more on a dull, bitter note. "Marriage and relationships are for conformists."

Evan Issac

Now Evan's icy gaze connected with Stan's. "Therefore, Kindergoth is displaying characteristics that make her appear like one of the conformists. See how that logic works?"

Raven

His eyes shifted toward Evan's and he looked at him for a good moment. "....She says it's apart of her plan. Manipulate the lemmings to take over."

Evan Issac

"Sounds like a bullshit artist's fabrication to me," Evan offered before taking another drag of his cigarettes. "She's playing with fire. It's more likely she'll become one of them with that mentality."

Raven

Raven shrugged, glancing off again.. "Yea, well. Whatever. She said we had to do what we can to survive. Henri said something similar."

Evan Issac

"Surviving... Now that's a human instinct," Evan informed Raven. He tapped some ash lazily onto the floor. "Wouldn't you rather succumb to decay?"

Raven

He seemed to linger on a pause again, but the goth relaxed somewhat. As if more accustomed, used to this kind of discussion. Not like Hen's and his conversation. Not like the last few he'd been given. Even Kindergoth's promise of darkness seemed to involve so much giving into conforming, involve things that went against every instinct he had. "...So you don't think we should be changing?"

Evan Issac

The strangest thing happened to Evan. A soft, dark chortle actually left his mouth. He could not recollect the last time he did something that remotely resembled laughter. He shook his head, taking another drag from his cigarette before responding verbally. "No, I don't. Destroy yourself with dignity, Raven."

Raven

The boy frowned, stubbing his cigarette, finally, on the bedside table next to him, dark gaze settling again against Evan. He seemed to think on this for a second before turning his gaze again back to the ceiling and pushing his arms behind his head. "Yea....and make the conformists miserable."

Evan Issac

Evan's usual pokerface returned to him quickly. His gaze flitted towards Stan. "That's a tune we can both sing," he concurred, putting the cigarette to his lips again. "Someone has their priorities in order for once."

Raven

Again, this seemed along a completely different "tune" than Hen had been singing. Raven, still staring off against the ceiling dully, giving another disinterested shrug. "Is that how you've been living here?"

Evan Issac

Evan finished his cigarette, snuffing it out in the nearby ash tray. "I wouldn't say live. Exist. Waste time. Something less productive," he decided.

Raven

The goth nodded, as if in some form on understanding. "Yea. Sounds familair." He spoke dully and eventually turned over, idly grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniel's and bringing it onto the bed. "Basically like home."

Evan Issac

The smallest of smirks crept up onto Evan's lips. He rolled over onto his side, watching Stan with a bit more ease from this angle. "You found home with me, killer?"

Raven

"Raven." He said, on an automatic note, eyes narrowing slightly, "And what if I did." His voice was more dark as if preparing on a fight, or on the brink of a challenge.

Evan Issac

"It's endearing," Evan remarked in a sardonic sort of voice. "Tell me about 'your' Evan."

Raven

He twitched on a humoring, dark slight smile, untwisting the bottle in his hands. "He was apathetic. Knew how the world worked. And was a complete asshole."

Evan Issac

"So he did not differ from me much? Or would you disagree with that notion?" Evan inquired, continuing to watch Stan.

Raven

He shrugged. "I don't exactly know you yet, do I. But from what I can tell...all of you have...striking similarities."

Evan Issac

"Even Fuchsia?" Evan wondered idly. His version of Dylan had been completely different.

Raven

He snorted somewhat, giving still to that grin. "Well...no. Not really Dylan. He seems...different. Consorting with Judas, for one. And...less defensive, less..." He wasn't sure what the word was exactly. "....impulsive."

Evan Issac

"I had an inkling," Evan remarked. Even though Dylan was not what he had been expecting, there was something oddly satisfying about the teen not conforming to any other versions of himself. "Judas has nothing to offer."

Raven

"Judas is a wannabe cheerleader whore who would take it over the table from anyone." He said, just as dully, as if this was something on a statement of fact.

Evan Issac

"And would you play with him?" Evan asked, sounding bored despite being mildly interested in reality.

Raven

He gave something on a darker expression. "He would probably enjoy it. Judas is completely delusional. He believes I'm his born again lover, brain washed into not caring about him. Having trouble letting go of his loser conformist fag, "Stanely"."

Evan Issac

Evan could not dismiss those notions himself. There was something faint in those green eyes that seemed ridiculously familiar. He patted the bit of space on the twin-sized bed. "Here, killer. C'mere."

Raven

He glanced over, seemingly as if uncertain, on a hint of suspicious. "Why."

Evan Issac

"Because," Evan supplied unhelpfully. He patted the spot again.

Raven

Raven held a suspicious look, but eventually, he relented. Stepping off onto the space between their beds and setting the rum on the bedside table next to him, he stood for a second before, unimpressed, pulling himself onto the bed.

Evan Issac

"Now, I know you're not some dime store whore like Judas, but surely you have needs," Evan began, his hand creeping up to the hem of Raven's dark t-shirt. "Sound accurate?"

Raven

The boy snorted slightly. He seemed somewhat uncomfortable, looking to Evan, expression holding on dark. "Whatever. I get my needs met."

Evan Issac

Evan kept his stoic face but stared into Raven's eyes with no regard for any possible repercussions. "Do you? When was the last time?"

Raven

He studied the other on a good moment, expression remaining in the same stiffness. "Dylan. Back in my world." He replied, dully. "About two weeks ago."

Evan Issac

"Did we fuck each other's pain away?" Evan asked. His spindly fingers spidered their way underneath Raven's dark t-shirt, the tips touching Raven's flat stomach.

Raven

"...On occasion." He admitted, just as dully, holding his gaze and the boy tensed as Evan's fingers eventually moved beneath his shirt.

Evan Issac

"Tell me about the thoughts that went through your head," Evan implored, his fingers coaxingly continuing to caress Raven's skin. He kept staring at the other like he may have been waiting for a green light.

Raven

Raven didn't shove the other off of him, the goth making no movements one way or the other. He stared, dully, responding in a flat note. "...When we fucked? Why would you want to know that."

Evan Issac

"Curiosity," Evan supplied simply, continuing to state at Raven. He rested his hand on the boy's stomach underneath his shirt for the moment.

Raven

And Raven stared back, just as blankly, darkly. "....I don't know." He finally admitted, albeit it was a lie - not breaking his gaze either, still as if trying to decipher Evan's motives.

Evan Issac

"Do I have to test this somehow?" Evan wondered, his hand creeping up higher. He stopped on Raven's chest, fingertips idly circling the teen's right nipple from underneath his shirt. His gaze remained fixated on Raven.

Raven

He still didn't resist Evan's touch, but nor did he fall into it. His eyes fixating on the other boy, for his impression, not reacting beyond a short tension while Evan's finger flickered over his chest; gaze dull and unaffected as ever. "Why don't you try it." He eventually, perhaps on a final note, challenged darkly, still seemingly studying the older boy.

Evan Issac

Evan did not require an invitation engraved in stone. Incidentally, he usually just took what he wanted. He closed the space between their lips, not wasting any time as he nipped down on Raven's lower one, his eyes falling shut. His spindly fingers tweaked the boy's nipple.

Raven

Raven wasn't exactly the epitome of Stanley Marsh. At even the intrusion of their lips touching, he forced back, moving his head up to roughly catch Evan in on the kiss. He felt familair in the situation, and it showed, pushing back on some force and groaning in a growl into the other biting down at his lower lip, dark eyes shifting in to look on Evan's face. His reaction was clear despite the dullness in tone, even in the darker manner in which he took the older boy in, a hand slipping up the other's shirt to touch, grasping in on the older goth's colder skin.

Evan Issac

The jerky movements did not catch Evan off guard, but the roughness was a bit new to him. The sunshine he was accustomed to did not kiss like that, nor did he ever growl. Evan forced his tongue into Raven's mouth, his skin starting to heat up some against Raven's wandering hand. His own began to trail lower again, settling on the boy's hip.

Raven

The boy smiled instead of disgusted in the force Evan exhibited, allowing Evan's tongue to explore the inside of his mouth without question, nails digging in on the other's chest. Abruptly the goth attempted to shove the other off to the side of the bed while still against him as if a force of a simple game of dominence. Apparently one he, much unlike Stan, enjoyed to play.

Evan Issac

Evan's cold tongue stud flicked against Raven's tongue as the pair of them shared a heated kiss. The shove from the younger boy made Evan push back instinctively. Now he was making an effort at getting on top of Raven, hands reaching out to pin the boy's arms.

Raven

He didn't mind. In fact, he was used to this. The taste, the flavor and pinch on struggle; perhaps only one of the things in life that shot some form of feeling and interest, made him more than apathetic and distant. His eyes, dull and near on mirth, fixated still on the other, genuinely giving in on a taut grin as Evan pinned his arms down, looking up into the other's dark eyes. "So...Tell me. Do you play with Dylan like this?" He asked, still in a dark manner of taunting the other, as if unable to resist.

Evan Issac

Evan straddled on top of Raven's hips. He kept the other's arms pinned firmly, looking down at the other. The rogue grin on Raven's lips prompted a tiny smirk to show in turn on Evan's lips. "You never answered my questions about your thoughts, killer," he countered, squeezing onto Raven's wrists a bit roughly.

Raven

His exprssion seemed more amused on anything as he looked up at the other, studying him. Evan wanted to know about his thoughts? He grinned, not resisting on any measure as Evan stradled him, in fact seeming at this point quite relaxed in this game of cat and mouse. "You want my thoughts? What is it you're looking for, Evan. Do you want to be what's in my thoughts right now, Issac?"

Evan Issac

"You're painting me to be particularly narcissitic, Raven," Evan pointed out, looking down at the other with his cold gaze. Some of his own playfulness seemed to fade, his expression returning to its typical stoic nature. His hands released Raven's wrists and trailed down, lifting the other's shirt up to his chest. His eyes took in all the details of the other's abdomen, and he leaned down, running his tongue against Raven's navel, piercing cold against the boy's mostly smooth flesh. Evan noticed some scarring from old bullet wounds, and that confirmed everything he wanted to know.

Raven

He tilted his head, as if oddly placated by Evan's reaction, satisfied on some odd disturbing level, studying him in a cold distance. But as soon as Evan bent over the usual secret thrill ran through him, dark and dangerous, and on some level, he embraced the memory of each other time in his past, heat a flush in his mind.

If it were in all honesty he had no idea what Evan thought of him, pushing his buttons because he knew he could. He had no idea what kind of person Evan was looking for or the reality of what his own thoughts that sped in his own mind, captured and lost behind dark, promently chilled green eyes. His hands went to try and work the hem at the bottom of Evan's own shirt, tugging it up in some attempt to get the clothing off. He was okay in playing the sumbmissive for the moment, but he desperately wanted to know more. Not just the taste and feel and feeling, the pain that dulled the senses, but who Evan had become, who he was, what kind of person this Evan achieved even to be. In his world, that had been everything. And in his thoughts - it had usually been the other, even in his every day motivation. Raven was angry, typically, and it showed bitter and taunting in the cold gaze he offered to the opposing goth.

Evan Issac

The tugging on the back of his own shirt alerted Evan that Raven did not want to be alone in this level of nakedness. The odd thing was that Evan was not all that horny for once; the whole act had been a ploy to see underneath Raven's shirt to prove that this person was still Miss Stanley Sunshine. His body was there even if his mind was not. Evan straightened up, his tall frame looming over Raven's smaller one. He remained straddled on the boy's hips. "Have something to say?" Evan asked, his hands settling on Raven's to stop him from tugging his shirt completely off.

Raven

Raven's gaze flickered dark back up to Evan, tilting his head slightly on the dark of the room. He caught in on the other boy's expression, a frown slowly creasing his lips. "....What?" He asked, dully, gaze unwavering from the other goth.

Evan Issac

"Nothing." Evan rolled off of him and laid on his back. If Raven was not going to bother to talk, he was not going to put effort forward in playing with him. If the other came to him, then it would be a different story. But right now Evan was lacking ambition.

Raven

Raven lay there a second, looking as if on confused. He managed in silence for a few moments before finally speaking up, eyes on the ceiling. "....What was that." He turned his head, still dully, frowning at the other.

Evan Issac

Evan shut his eyes. He almost seemed tired at the moment. "Your wet dream," he answered in a sardonic fashion, not seeming to care about his stray dog at the moment.

Raven

He paused, still laying there. "You know what I mean." His voice held the same firm, dull note, eyes still focused on the other.

Evan Issac

"No, I don't. Why don't you waste some time elaborating for me?" Evan asked lazily. He turned away from the other and face the wall, resting on his side.

Raven

Raven continued to frown, laying there a second, studying the back of Evan's head on the darkness. "...What. You offended...?"

Evan Issac

"I'm tired," Evan supplied. The excuse was probably hard to believe since the goth wasted most of his time laying around in the dark and doing nothing. "Go bark at some conformists."

Raven

Raven continued looking at the other. It wasn't exactly difficult to figure that as a lie, but then it seemed like more of the point of it. "...Whatever." He eventually spoke, gruff, grudging. "Was it Dylan?"

Evan Issac

"Was what Fuchsia?" Evan asked, not bothering to give Raven a glance as he continued to lie there.

Raven

"Or is because I'm still "Sunshine"." He spoke, just as dully, not giving a direct answer; instead being rather blunt.

Evan Issac

"If you want attention, you're going to have to start humping my leg," Evan stated just as bluntly in return. "Like the dog you are, killer." He did not answer that question of Raven's directly.

Raven

"So it is." He spoke dryly, seeming on a tone of miffed, gaze narrowing at the cieling. "You're still thinking of him."

Evan Issac

"Come on, boy. Beg for me," Evan said in a biting and mocking way, still not truly acknowledging what Raven was saying about Stan.

Raven

"...You like him." He deadpanned, eventually, not seeming to be paying attention either on what Evan was trying to mock at him; voice blatant as his gaze remains, narrowed, at the cieling. "...Tell me. Do you love him?"

Evan Issac

Evan suddenly turned around. He actually pulled on Raven's shirt violently, bringing the other in close. "Love has been dead for a long time," he informed coldly, his stoic face actually turning dark.

Raven

Raven stared up, despite the abrupt change in the older goth, his own gaze remained fairly calm and dull; albeit it flickered in a hint of surpris. He held the other's expression on the dark, laying there. It would be impossible to miss the warning in Evan's eyes. "Dead?" He couldn't help himself, voice flat, "Is that so. Do you think he loved you?"

Evan Issac

This stray dog was out of line; he needed to be put down. Evan's hands griped tighter onto Raven's t-shirt. He was holding on so tight that his knuckles were turning white. It was rare to envoke any emotion in Evan. Right now, he was actually feeling alive with a terrible anger. He narrowed his eyes. "I said: Love. Is. Dead. You of all people know what that entails," he hissed. "Are you really insinatuing that I let my guard down for a sunshine fag?"

Raven

A sly smirk crept onto Raven's face, studying the other still, as if impressed, not bothering on raising his arms or fighting back from where he'd let them lay; gaze frigid. "I'm insinatuing you found true love. Do you see him in my face?"

Evan Issac

Evan was absolutely livid. He actually clenched his fist tight and hit Raven as hard as he could in the jaw. Then he shoved the other off of the bed. "Get out."

Raven

He'd been expecting the punch. And it came, leaving the taste of blood, thick, in his mouth. When he was shoved out of the bed, he fell to the ground with a thud, pushing himself to his feet like any fight with a wipe of his arm to the blood edging from the corner of his mouth. "You do. Don't you." He grinned on that in a show of red teeth, but his eyes were fairly dead and expressionless, standing on a slight hunch between his and Evan's bed.

Evan Issac

The fact that Raven was still here egged Evan on to a further extent. His body was rigid with tension and his hands were still clenched into tight fists. His cold blue eyes were shooting daggers into Raven's venemous green gaze. Evan honestly looked like he wanted to kill Raven at that point. "GET. OUT," he warned for the last time through gritted teeth.

Raven

Raven wasn't moving. In fact, that just seemed to push on his amusement, a dribble of blood spilling thickly on his chin as he laughed, a soft, vulgar kind of sound. "Oh? You want me out, Issac? What happened. Missing your little gay boyfriend? Tell me, what was he like in bed?"

Evan Issac

"I don't have boyfriends! EVER!" Evan snapped, rising from the bed. His height may have been somewhat intimidating, but he was horribly thin and lacked muscle. "I don't believe in those monogamous, fag fairy tales," he growled, shoving Raven as hard as he could. He was making an effort at pushing him out the front door.

Raven

Raven didn't just up and let him push him out. On the first few shoves, he was already throwing his own punch in a flash, straight up to Evan's jaw with a surprisingly strong force on anger.

Evan Issac

Now Evan was bleeding again when Raven's metal knuckles connected with his flesh yet again. He knew he did not have enough muscle to make the other leave, but he wanted him out so badly. Head reeling from the pain, he glared darkly at Raven. "Out," he ordered curtly again, giving the teen another rough shove.

Raven

Raven stood there on a heated breath, the anger vivid, clear, for the first time on his gaze, in his stance, reeling in every motion. "No, fuck you." He bit, abruptly, shoving Evan back as if on a heated second, and shoving hard. "You think this is easy? Getting tossed from one of you to the other like some kind of yesterday's left overs?" He shoved again, just as hard, the anger spiking against those eyes, almost on a childish, but venomous demeanor, blood spraying slightly as he talked. "You're little sunshine fag is gone you motherfucker. He's gone and you have to deal with that."

Evan Issac

Evan flinched with the other's harsh pushes. Nobody usually defied him to such an extent (perhaps Georgie, though that was different. Evan never usually became so livid with rage). Some of the blood from Raven's mouth splashed onto his pale skin. He kept glaring at Raven like he wanted the other to drop dead. Then he made an attempt at retreat, walking past the boy and heading for the door. Evan kept silent.

Raven

"What, are you going to run from me? Seriously?" Raven bit, barking after the boy as he pushed passed him, throwing his arms against the air. "Are you scared, Evan?"

Evan Issac

"Fuck off," Evan ordered, opening the door and not acknowledging the latter question.

Raven

A scowl went deep on Raven's face, and he pushed off, following and tailing after the other boy.

Evan Issac

Evan stopped abruptly at the door. He turned around sharply and glared at Raven. "Don't follow me," he implored in a firm and bitter voice.

Raven

Raven stopped, stubbornly, standing not too far from the other goth. He glared up at him. "Why? Can't handle being around me?"

Evan Issac

"When I tell you to fuck off, it means that I want to be left alone," Evan reminded, glaring down at Raven.

Raven

Raven continued to glare at Evan, looking fairly heated and stuborn, holding his eyes to the other goth's for a good moment intensely. After the second, eventually, he turned the burning look away. "....Yea. Yea, fine." He turned around, "Go out and cry over your fairy tale prince, Issac."

Evan Issac

The remark was not what Evan needed to hear right now. Even though Raven had his back turned, it did not stop Evan from punching Raven in the back of the head as hard as he could manage. He was hoping the other would go down and lose consciousness despite hope being dead. Misfortune and misery were all Evan could count on.

Raven

He went down. In a flash, head crashing on the floor and blood still filling in his mouth, spraying the carpet. Raven gave a scowl, somewhere between a growl and a grunt as he shifted somewhat, disoriented on an attempt to recover from the sudden blow. He laughed, weakly, something fairly soft, despite this, not looking up as he attempted to push on both arms gingerly against the ground. "What's the matter...? Too heartbroken to try and move on, Issac?" He turned a fierce green eye on Evan's from the floor, back still to the other; smirking bitterly. "Maybe we can mess around again and I can pretend to be him."

Evan Issac

Evan wished he could have hit harder, still in a white-hot fury. He was actually so angry that his body was beginning to tremble slightly. He could hardly remember a time where he felt like this. It was likely before Evan gave up on life. He was completely uncomfortable. "You just love hearing yourself yap and yap, don't you, killer?" Evan kicked Raven in the side, not wanting the other to get up from the floor. "Wake up and smell the coffee: I don't believe in fairy tales. The end."

Raven

"Hahah..." He was actually laughing, chuckling in against the rug even as Evan's boot connected to his side. "Oh...oh, yes, and that's exactly why you're so livid." He grinned, breathing out the words in pained, knowing demeanor.

Evan Issac

"Shut the fuck up," Evan ordered, drawing his lighter out of his pocket. He opened it and lit it, letting the flame and the metal around it heat up. He edged Raven over onto his back with his boot before plopping down on the floor, landing on top of Raven. He pinned one of the boy's hands. It may have been somewhat familiar, but Evan had no sexual intentions this time around. After the flame went out, Evan made an attempt at pressing the hot metal against Raven's wrist, wanting to make a small burn.

Raven

Raven actually broke into a fit of laugher, ranging in giggles as Evan's lighter burned against the front of his wrist, "You actually think that hurts me, fucker? Is that really the best you can do...?" He laughed again, even as the burn disolved into his skin.

Evan Issac

"You want to get set on fire?" Evan growled darkly. Despite the threat, Evan dropped the lighter. He had received far too many cigarette burns in the past from his father to actually want to carry through with the idea. His hands settled over Raven's throat. "Maybe I should just fucking strangle you so you'll never yap again."

Raven

He bit in a grin, looking up as if daring on Evan's eyes. "Why? Sick of your sunshine fairytale mutt already, Evan...?"

Evan Issac

There was no part of this that Evan liked. He never had lost so much control before. Usually, he was the one that got deep underneath people's skin. He was always too apathetic to become so enraged, but Raven kept poking the bear. Evan swallowed some, tasting his own blood thanks to Raven's punch. His hands squeezed around Raven's throat, wanting to wipe that smile right off the other's face. "I'm just putting down a stray," he claimed darkly as he trembled some.

Raven

Raven, for his part, didn't resist. The instant the breath left him, he kept his gaze against Evan's, as if still challenging, taunting. As if seeing him through this to the end. On reaction, a hand worked up to grab Evan's wrist, but he didn't remove his gaze, nor did it change aside from growing somewhat distant, despite the continuing and rapidly sufficating loss in air beneath his throat or the split in vision that began to appear in his gaze.

Evan Issac

Evan hated everything about that gaze of Raven's. The fact that he was challenging Evan through it all only added to his fury. He could not take the other's taunting any longer. He had been pushed too far. Despite the hand on his wrist, he continued to squeeze Raven's throat. Evan's piercing blue eyes were full of hate. It was as if he wanted to see the light leave Raven's eyes.

Josh Myers

Storming into the room, Josh swung the front door open, instantly lunging forward to break up the fight. He shoved Evan with unexpected furosity, pushing him into the wall despite the obvious differences in size and strength. With a twisted smile, he asked almost gently, "Just what do you think you're doing, Evan Issac?"

Raven

If Raven was going to die - it was going to be by Evan's hands. It was something he decided in that moment. He wasn't afraid of death. And in the instant, it felt somehow right, guiding the other, his mentor, his friend, everything he'd ever wanted to be, to his own murder. As if there was some kind of sick accomplishment laden somewhere against it for the other. As if Evan somehow got something out of all of this. His life had been Evan's to own for a long time, and despite his taunts and rises he got, despite what he might say he would always be loyal, when it mattered, to the very end. His breath left him, and the panic began pressing in at the base of his skull; ears ringing on the instinctive need for oxygen, his grip on Evan's wrist whiteknuckled and shaking but the control in his body's reaction, on his own dim gaze, seeming absolute. He continued on a smirk as if simply knowing, still deluded and filled in his own beliefs this was what it was - his life to Evan, that this was okay, before abruptly it all stopped.

He'd expected to slip into unconsciousness. Instead, he lay there, gasping hoarsely, coughing dry and long, blood spattering slightly into the air.

Evan Issac

The sudden lunge was not what Evan had been expecting at all. He was completely taken by surprise and now under Josh's grasp. His face was still contorted with rage. "Taking out the stray..." Evan managed to say, not needing Josh right now. Or so he thought. His body trembled more underneath the other boy. "Out. Get out of my way," he demanded, sanity seeming to be lost at the moment. That taunting smirk of Raven's was engraved in his mind, haunting him. Evan still felt a blood lust--a need to erase that smirk.

Josh Myers

Josh shoved Evan again to hold him in place against the wall, though with the gesture, he noticed the slight trembling in his hands. He felt as though he were in the middle of a dog fight, with two aggressive and trained fighters, one laying in defeat on the floor. Stan, or, well, Raven, looked fairly pathetic, and Myers wished he had his camera. He shook his head of distracting thoughts and leaned forward to whisper into Evan's ear, grip still holding the collar of his shirt. "No, Evan. Down boy! This is our good chum that we are dealing with here. The Raven that makes your blood boil is the same Stan that we've been living with for the past few months. Now then, if you would please, I command you to stand down."

Evan Issac

The fact that Evan himself was now being treated like a dog added insult to injury. It pained him, especially after all the dog quips he made towards Raven. "Fuck off, Lecter!" Evan cried. "I don't care who he is! Get out of my face and mind your own business for once in your fucking life!" he snarled, not wanting to cooperate one bit. The anger and adrenaline were still coursing through his veins. Evan made an attempt at pushing Josh off, though he would likely be unsuccessful at this point. He spent a lot of hate on Raven already, and his body still quivered some with that human reaction of fear.

Raven

His head was still ringing. Far too much for him to catch any conversation between Josh and Evan or even properly become aware that Josh had even entered into the game. When he did, he managed to deafly attempt to push himself on his hands and knees, still the goth making ravaged, dry coughing and gasping noises, head spinning on its top. He didn't interviene, but then it wasn't as if the boy was on any position to do so regardless.

Josh Myers

After some intense thinking, Myers found that the best solution to the dilemma at hand was to smack Evan across the face, wanting nothing more than to knock some sense into the older boy. "Settle down, Evan. Your business is mine," he rolled his eyes, patting Evan's cheek where he had made contact with his palm. A few 'shhh's escaped from between his teeth before he turned and smiled at Raven. "Would you mind digging underneath my bed for a bottle of rum? That might be an adequate pacifier."

Evan Issac

The manner in which Josh treated Evan humilated him further. He continued to glare at the other, extending a hand and swating at Josh's consoling one. "Just get him the fuck out of here," Evan implored through gritted teeth, wanting Raven to be gone in some sense. The concept of drowning himself in copious amounts of alcohol was highly appealing. Evan wanted to be away from all this rage. He would much rather be in a drunken stupor. That was at least familiar. This was insanity.

Raven

Disoriented, Raven looked up under a curtain on mussed, wild hair, eyes torn both dark and confused. "--What...? What the fuck are you doing here." He was still on all fours, a hand instinctive on the area of his throat, now red; still appearing somewhat lost.

Josh Myers

Somewhat obediantly, Josh backed away with his hands held up in a cautious, ready-to-hit-back-if-provoked manner. When all was safe and it was okay to turn his head away, he did so, only then returning his gaze back to Raven. He really did look like a lost little stray. Oh, how Josh wanted to capture this moment on camera. One hand took hold of the loosely flowing door; the other directed Raven outside, where CC the cat had remained throughout the whole ordeal, panicked and growling. "If you want my protection, I suggest you leave, while Evan isn't on the verge of killing you."

Raven

"Your...protection?" He rasped, looking on a second as if Josh was insane. And then there was that smirk again. "I don't need your protection." The boy, staggering slightly, pushed himself up, shaking, to his feet, leaning at the frame of the door for support. Blood matted down his jaw line, teeth still painted in red, jaw swelling and the imprints of Evan's hands still at his neck. Despite this, he smiled slightly.

Evan Issac

Evan stared at the scene for a few moments. While Raven may have appeared particualrly pathetic for a fraction of a second, the smirk came as quick as it had gone. "Out! NOW!" Evan snapped, picking his lighter up from the ground and chucking it at Raven's head. In this volatile state, the smirk sent him into that white-hot fury again.

Raven

His gaze, as if lazy, drug over to Evan and finally the smirk did vanish. He seemed more on anger though than anything, a dark glint even as, useless, the lighter hit off of him. "Or what? Going to kill me, Issac?" He rasped, "Maybe I can join your faggot boyfriend in hell, huh?"

Josh Myers

Josh immediately "pulled Stan to safety," as he would put it, shocked and borderline terrified of the sudden outburst coming from Evan. "Out, out, out, out, out, out, now, get out now, out, out, out," he slammed the door after Marsh, only to open it once again in the seconds that followed, "and here, take this toilet paper. Clean yourself up, you fool."

Evan Issac

The taunting from Raven was ringing in Evan's ears. He could not stand it any longer. Honestly, it was a relief to have that anathema out of his sight. He was thankful for Josh in a way he could not appreciate yet. Evan collapsed onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow as he resisted the powerful urge to scream. He just had to find his mind and apathy again.

Raven

Raven seemed to want to bite back on a retort as Josh shoved him out the door; the boy stumbling and catching to a handrail on the short stone steps to keep balance. His expression was dark, somewhat livid even as Myers opened the door again and tossed the toliet paper in his direction. He sneered on a scowl, but wasn't given a chance to respond, instead, after the door shut in his face, sinking to the ground, glaring cold at the door.

Josh Myers

Satisfied with witnessing Evan at such a weak point, Josh felt it was finally safe to duck underneath the bed he had neglected all weak in order to find the special-occasion rum. He flicked the lock on the doorknob, and tossed the bottle at Evan, a bit baffled that he was performing an act of such kindness, or doing anything for Evan for that matter. In a way, this was for everyone, as Josh had made it his duty to keep the dorm in order. Which it was not. Instead of asking for permission to stay, in case Evan wanted complete solitude, he began picking up this and that off of the floor.

Evan Issac

Evan did not mind Josh's presence in the slightest now. As long as Raven was gone, he could make some kind of attempt at collecting the shards of his sanity. Or he could drink himself into oblivion. Either way, Evan tried to actually believe he would come out 'okay' in the end, as conformist as that was. He greatly desired to not feel anything. Taking the bone he was thrown, Evan opened the bottle of rum, beginning to nurse it desperately while laying on his side.

Josh Myers

Now was not a time to speak, something that Josh easily recognized. He hoped to contribute a form of 'white noise' by flipping the boombox by the side of his bed on, letting it play the static of a pointless radio station. He, too, laid on the surface of his bed, watching the ceiling, just to stick around and keep an eye on Evan for once.

[relaxguyooc]

[3rd short] Evan Issac, Dylan North, Kyle Broflovski, Raven (Stan Marsh)

Summary: Raven goes to confront Evan on his comments in tumblr; Kyle ends up arriving to try and watch the fight.

Takes Place: Thursday night, August 9th.

　

Raven

*Raven storms in through the Jeremy room door, standing at the foothold of the doorway. He's clothed on a black t-shirt and ripped jeans, fingerless gloves embroded with spikes at the knuckles. Piercings line on his lip and ears, hair matted down--and his expression is dark, livid.*

Dylan North

-Dylan just sort of looks up from his place on the floor, examines the other once, and then snorts- Oh my god, you look like such a poser.

Raven

*Raven doesn't pay attention to Dylan. Or mention the fact he was the one who often helped dress him back in the day. He's looking directly toward Evan, eyes narrowed, fists gripped as if on fury*

Evan Issac

*Evan's piercing blue eyes connect with Raven's green. His pokerface is pretty much in tow, though his eyes look more venemous than usual* Well, look who decided to show his face. Tired of your fairy tale with Judas and the other lemmings?

Raven

*Raven doesn't speak. He takes, instead, a few steps foreword on makeshift black boots; reaching where Evan's perched and in a flash bringing back a fist and socking him straight to the jaw with a surprising amount of force.*

Dylan North

-He freezes, looking up towards Raven- ..... holy.. shit.

Evan Issac

*the blow causes Evan to fall over on the bed, groaning in pain. His head is reeling and his jaw is bleeding profusely thanks to the spikes on Raven's glove* What the fuck was that? *sounds considerably weaker thanks to his agony*

Dylan North

-Dylan carefully climbs over the bed and heads off to the bathroom in order to grab the proper things to stop the bleeding because unlike Evan, he actually cares-

Raven

That was a reality check. *Raven spat on gritted teeth, standing over the other, still on stern and coarse, looking down on the goth with fire in his eyes.* You think this is all fairy tale lies and living pretty in pink, you asshole slut? Or you think this is the endless cycle it's always been with this fucking conformist bullshit. *He grabs the other roughly, suddenly, on the collar and looks at him, bitter, his voice seething.* I know every last fucking thing about you fuckasses, every last thing. You really think that sad loser of a conformist would fake this? Huh?

Evan Issac

*stares back at Raven, his body rather limp in the other's vicious grasp* The latter, naturally. *he is actually bothered enough to make a small effort of retaliation, and he spits in Raven's face* Whoa there, killer. I think you're getting ahead of yourself. *his voice is sardonic despite his own compromising posiiton*

Dylan North

-comes scrambling back, holding several wet paper towels in his rather tight grip but he refuses to say anything, instead standing on the bed in order to carefully wipe away a bit of the blood despite the fact that the others are still about to kill each other, really-

Raven

*Raven's gaze grows darker and he punches Evan again, in a move of force that would propel the other right back down if he didn't still keep such a grip on his collar.* Yea? Well your little blow up doll is dead, Evan. What? *He mocks, harsh, again on a viscious look,* You sad? You going to cry, Evan? *He throws the boy down, tossing him back against the bed with that same surprise in force, eyes dark as if black, voice harsh.* Get over it. Where I'm from I've always been Raven. And whatever you say, you can accept it or cry in your little fairy tale haven.

Evan Issac

*bleeding even more now thanks to the new hit, Dylan's effort of cleaning him up and stopping the bleeding going completely in vain. Despite his pain, he manages to get some words out* No, no. You're still a little blow up doll. Even as 'Raven,' so be careful not to pop. *his frigid gaze is trained on the other* Well, this isn't where you're from. Where I'm from, you're a conformist lemming. So I'll remain a skeptic. This proves nothing.

Dylan North

-loses his balance as Evan is tossed back onto the bed, successfully falling completely off and slamming his head into the side of the bed. He hisses and curls up, pressing one hand to the throbbing pain in the back of his skull-

Raven

*Raven stares at the other. His gaze is coarse, still hard and cold as ever. He doesn't break away.*... I don't need your fucking conformist bullshit approval. Believe whatever lies you need to to get yourself to sleep at night. *He speaks, level and cold, eyes still fixed on Evan, gaze going oddly apathetic.*

Evan Issac

Oh, that's a lie. You desire my approval, don't you, Raven? Because I created you, didn't I? Molded you in my image. *slowly sits up on the bed, a bloody mess. His gaze connects with Raven's in turn, and he is unafraid, focused on this for now and not tending to poor Dylan on the ground*

Raven

Oh. *He speaks on a dull tone, but it's laced in venom, anger.* Now. You're willing to consider I am from another world. *He studies the other hard, but there are traces of hurt in his gaze, fists gripped still, bloodied, at his side; voice cold once more.*

Dylan North

-Dylan sits up after a moment, taking the wet paper towels and pressing them to the back of his head- ... y-you two should stop...

Kyle Broflovski

*there's a loud knock at their front door*

Evan Issac

I'll be frank: Here, you're known as Raven the abandoner. Or even Stanley Sunshine. If you want to be Raven, you're going to have to not go killer on me. *ignoring Dylan for now* Answer the door, Raven.

Raven

I don't have to want to be anything. I don't give a fuck what you think. *He spoke, voice still short and deadly cold.* I don't answer to bullshit conformist lives, conformist losers. And, you complete fuck. *He tilts his head, eyes still vividly fixed on Evan, expression remaining somewhat apathetic.* I don't do. Whatever the hell I'm told. Like some lemming slave.

Dylan North

-shuts his eyes- Raven, can you please.. answer the door... -already feels a headache coming on-

Raven

*He doesn't reply, still gaze fixed cold and dead on Evan.*

Evan Issac

You could at least numb Fuchsia's pain. Look what you've done, Raven. You're supposed to lash out on the conformists. You're losing sight of the actual enemy. *doubts that Raven's telling the truth, deciding to stick with these tactics for now. He crawls down to the floor and pulls little Dylan into his lap*

Dylan North

-he sighs, leaning back against Evan- ... can you check and see if I'm actually bleeding? I can't even fucking tell...

Kyle Broflovski

*a louder knocking starts up that doesn't stop this time*

Raven

*He sneers slightly.* Oh. Right. I'm the one who lost sight. Yea--sure. Go jump off a cliff, drown in your own blood, you fucking shit. *He turns regardless, shoving open the door on a cold, dead note.* What.

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle pauses, fist still half raised for another knocking. He clears his throat a bit* Hey. Uh, what's up? *blink blink*

Raven

*His expression is dark, almost nuetral and apathetic.* Judas the whore. Guess I should've known you'd show up.

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle's brows furrow a bit* I'm not a whore, /Raven/. My name is Kyle. I just...yeah, you said you didn't care whether or not I showed up, and I---*glances over Stan's shoulder, noticing the blood on Evan and Dylan curled up in his lap*---wow. *doesn't look very surprised at all though* Dylan wasn't kidding when I messaged him earlier....

Raven

*glances back to Dylan, eyes narrowing, but says nothing.* Whatever. *He dissmisses, bitter, heading in the direction of his bed without a word*

Evan Issac

*examining Dylan's head* There's a bump but no blood. *says this in a softer tone near the other's ear. His gaze trails up to Judas and Raven* Have you come to collect Killer, Judas? Your dog's entirely rabid. We might have to put him down.

Dylan North

-he nods, nuzzling up against Evan- S'Kyle here...?

Kyle Broflovski

*It takes every ounce of will Kyle has to hold back from laughing at Evan's comment; he manages a soft sniff instead* I just came to check on things. /He/ *nods to Stan* is not mine. *shrugs and awkwardly steps inside to take a seat next to Dylan and Evan*

Evan Issac

Oh. So this dog's a stray? How miserable for him. I'll bet he's just yearning for a master. *Keeps that same sardonic tone going, stroking Dylan's hair and watching Raven*

Raven

Like I'd want a conformist cheerleading whore. *he lays easily on his bed, feet propped, still his tone bitter.* Go pray to your fatass conformist, seemed a lot more interested in your dick, Judas. *He gives a sharp look to Evan at his words, biting down.*

Kyle Broflovski

I dunno, dude. He doesn't talk about my dick /half/ as much as you do. *smirks*

Dylan North

-Dylan sighs- If we're goin' to argue, why are we all in th' same room...?

Kyle Broflovski

*glances at Dylan curiously* Entertainment? That's why I came over in the first place, but it seems like I already missed the show....

Raven

We don't give in to conformist sluts, Dylan. *Says, evenly, gaze still sharp on Evan, ignorning Kyle.*

Dyaln North

... oh. But I don't see any conformist sluts.. -laughs softly, mostly to himself- Mainly b'cause I can't see at all right now...

Evan Issac

I didn't invite Killer. He just stormed the place. And you know the rest, Fuchsia. *cups Dylan's cheek, his spindly fingers petting the other's pale skin*

Kyle Broflovski

*is content to watch Stan, who seems super intent on watching Evan*

Dylan North

-avoids mentioning his current vision problems, instead settling for just nuzzling Evan again-

Raven

*Raven just ignores Dylan, eventually shifting his gaze on a glare, turning to look at Kyle instead.* So what the fuck you want, Judas? A medal?

Kyle Broflovski

No. *blinks innocently at Stan* I just came over to watch you and Evan fuck each other up. Please don't stop on my account. *suddenly bursts into a grin at the end*

Dylan North

-mentally notes that it actually is Kyle and sort of waves in the general direction of his voice-

Raven

*His eyes narrow again, seeming anything but amused.* Get the fuck out.

Evan Issac

I'm really not drunk enough for this noise. *feels too much pain from the two blows he suffered beforehand from Raven. He keeps petting Dylan* Yeah, killer. Chase out our unwelcomed guest. *curious if Stan's going to rebel once he's been ordered*

Raven

*Raven flips Evan off, sharply, but his gaze remains on Kyle, eyes incredibly harsh*

Kyle Broflovski

*ignoring Evan* Naaah, I think I'll hang around. I don't bother Evan with my mere presence nearly as much as I should, and this seems like a nice opportunity. You guys wanna play a boardgame or something? *chuckles sardonically, and also waves back to Dylan, even though he appears not to notice too much at the moment*

Evan Issac

*gets up from the ground, holding Dylan's little frame in his arms bridal style* Proceed with caution, Judas. That's his murder face. *goes to sit with Dylan on the bed, Evan's own face still a bloody mess*

Raven

*Something on a grin twists on Raven's face. It's as if this is a second he's been waiting for, itching on getting out. He gets to his feet, pushing up and off the bed.* A board game? Yea... I have a game for you. *There's a slight flash, a tilt on something silver that comes from his hand; and abruptly he's shoving Kyle up against the wall, pressing his own body against the other boy's as if to pin him there. His eyes look the other over as if a glint in lust, gaze harsh, a knife whipped out and suddenly pressed up against Kyle's throat.* How about I fuck you raw over the tabletop over there as you scream your old boyfriend's name? *He leans in, speaking gently, breathly in his ear* Hell, you conformist slut. Tell you what. I'll even let you make believe it's really him.

　

[triage room lol] (2:13:24 AM): *watching the entire scene unfold. Honestly, it's a bit of a turn-on to watch Judas suddenly be thrust into such peril, though he believes Raven is likely playing with the other, even though the act is pretty hardcore. He continues to pet Dylan, doing nothing to intervene*

Dylan North

-glances up towards Evan, his empty eyes blinking rapidly for a moment. He leans close to his ear, frowning- What's happening..?

Evan Issac

Oh, nothing of particular interest. *keeps stroking Dylan like he's his cat, avoiding causing the other more pain since he knows how the other can be a slave to his many emotions*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle probably wouldn't have heeded Evan's warning regardless, but the knife was definitely unexpected and something to take heed of... Adrenaline - as well as even a little bit of pleasure - shoots through Kyle as he is suddenly pinned flush against the wall behind him. It takes a second for everything Stan just said to settle in* Dude. Seriously? Put your toy away. That's not funny... *Doesn't struggle or anything, but his heart is beating like a hummingbirds'*

Raven

*He bites on a twisted grin.* Not funny? *He seethes, a bit of malice in his voice as he presses the knife in harder, a sliver of blood blooming on Kyle's neck.* Oh. Oh no. This isn't where it gets funny. We'll get to that part though, don't even worry your conformist little head, Judas.

Kyle Broflovski

*Instinctively tries to pull away from the knife, even as he's cut by it* /Dude/. That fucking hurts. Stop it. *tests the waters a bit by attempting to pull his arms free*

Dylan North

-he sighs and sort of nods a bit, going back to clinging to Evan, rubbing at his eyes a bit with one hand.-

Raven

*Raven seems just to thrive on the words, still his grin in place; pressing a bit harder, enough to sting even more, as Kyle tries to pull free.* Ah ah ah, not just yet. First I want you to beg.

Evan Issac

*continues to watch, gaze intent the entire time*

Kyle Broflovski

*rolls his eyes, and says as melodramatically and toneless as possible:* Please, oh please, fearsome Raven, let me go, blah blah, you're hurting me, please please, blah blah blah. *tilts his head a bit more forward to get a good, deep look into Stan's eyes, in turn pushing the knife even closer so that it not only stings but genuinely hurts this time, more blood trickling down his neck. He doesn't say anything else.*

Raven

*He gives a harsh laugh.* Ooooh? The whore's got a little spirit. *Raven's grin is oddly wild, but increasingly bitter the longer he looks at the other; raising a hand and backhanding the other, hard enough to throw Kyle staight to the ground.*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle wasn't expecting that, and to his surprise it /hurt/. Like, not just physically - Stan had struck a chord within him as well as his face. Though he quickly pushes himself back up off the floor a bit with one arm, using the back of his other free hand to wipe the corner of his mouth, tasting blood already* Fuck.... *he mumbles*

Raven

*Without delay, Raven kicks Kyle, roughly, in the stomach, eyes, rather frighteningly, going cold.*

Evan Issac

*starts clapping his hands in a slow and somewhat cryptic way, as if he were pleased with the show that's happening before him, eyes trained on the scene*

Dylan North

-begins to shake a bit, curling up tightly enough in Evan's arms to cover his ears, submerging himself in darkness.-

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle actually sees that kick coming and rolls out of the way, growling* The fuck dude! Lay off!

Raven

*He looks on another slight grin.* Ooooh. Poor baby. You miss your old Stanley boyfriend, Judas whore? *He stands there, sillotted slightly on the bitter grin, eyes rather dead as he openly mocks.* Afraid he went and got himself killed in this conformist hellhole? Sorry, little whore. I'm not here to clean up your baby mess.

Evan Issac

Miss Stanley Sunshine doesn't roll over and die easily. Trust me, I know. *odly remembering Stan's whole pep talk after he told Evan to kill himself and then when he tried to take it back. His arms are draped loosely around Dylan, and it seems Evan may be becoming less entertained with the show*

Raven

*He snorts.* Oh really. *Doesn't look at Evan.* I somehow doubt that. A loser asshole like that? I bet he rolled over and died like a dog.

Evan Issac

Now, now. Remember: You're the dog. *the words are said firm and biting*

Dylan North

-continues to ignore the world, wishing that he could force himself into unconsciousness-

Kyle Broflovski

*Gets to his feet, face a mess in more ways than one. It hadn't occured to him that Stan might actually have /died/ and this was his new replacement-Stan--/Raven/... Kyle can't keep some of the worry and anxiety from showing on his slightly bloody features.*

Raven

*gaze narrows on Evan, but he doesn't say anything. He seems still fairly pissed off, eyes settling on the other goth, stiff and still. In a moment, he sideglances back toward Kyle in a pause, seemingly thrown out of his mood.*...whatever.

Evan Issac

Judas, you look like you've seen a ghost. Pining for your sunshine? *keeps petting his clearly distressed lover as he watches Raven and Kyle* Just look into this one's eyes or some noise. Whatever Disney feeds you.

Raven

*looks back on Evan, gaze mingling in cold but confused, as if drawn back by the suggestion*

Evan Issac

*just looks like he's decided somehing, staring back intently into Raven's gaze. He does not share, however* All done with your killing spree?

Kyle Broflovski

I'll pass. He's right, it's not the same. Not in the least. *rubs his mouth again, sucking on his bottom lip, as he makes his way to the door*

Dylan North

-sits up after a moment, turning his head towards where he assumes Raven and/or Kyle is which is actually, in fact, completely wrong on both accounts-

Evan Issac

*turns Dylan's head in the only direction it needs to be and plants a kiss on the other's lips to placate him*

Raven

*He snorts at Evan's words, still looking at the goth* Whatever. *Another glance at Kyle.* Yea? About time. My name's Raven, Judas, whatever you thought about your fairy tale prince I'm not him. How about you go back to your fairy tale dream and cry yourself to sleep over his corpse. *In that bitter note he turns, heading back to his bed; slipping the knife back onto a belt beneath his shirt.*

Dylan North

-sighs, kissing back softly for a moment before leaning away- .. What just happened. -turns his head towards Raven's voice-

Evan Issac

Nothing particularly relevant. Don't concern yourself with lower lifeforms, Fuchsia. *continues his petting, ignoring Raven and Kyle for the moment*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle almost goes after him. He turns, fists clenched, like he's going to--but he sees the knife being put away and suddenly lets his burst of anger fade. Defending his honor to this loser isn't worth getting himself hurt or killed. He frowns, looking confused and forlorn and still just a little angry, but he sighs and shakes his head* I hope you enjoy your time here at SPRC then, /Raven/. It's not fun, even by your fucked up standards... *he sighs again and mumbles* See you guys later, *as he opens the door and then closes it behind him, leaving the goths to themselves*

Dylan North

-nods a bit, frowning- ... it kinda sucks not being able t'see. I didn't think it would be that bad, but.. -just kind of pouts-

Raven

It was nothing, Dylan. *Voice somewhat stiff, but even and a little less bitter or frustrated when addressing Dylan. Why the fuck did Kyle-Judas-make him feel this way? Fucking conformist. He lay back on his bed, looking off as the door shut behind the redhead, expression more over blank.*

Evan Issac

Yeah, you just missed more of a rampage. *lays back on the bed with Dylan, continuing to pet him, not bothering to clean up the dried blood on his own face* It was hardcore, but you do more hardcore shit on a regular basis.

Dylan North

.. raven. Can you hand me those paper towels on the floor... -nuzzles Evan lightly-

Raven

*Raven ignores Evan, but reaches for the paper towels.* Yea. Sure, whatever, Dylan. *And tosses them over to the pair.*

Dylan North

-He takes hold of them, using his other hand to find Evan's face properly. He sighs and carefully begins to wipe at the blood, frowning- Didn't get to do this before.

Evan Issac

I really don't care. You don't have to. *ruffles up Dylan's hair*

Dylan North

-shrugs a bit- Too late.

Raven

*Raven on the other hand flips a pack of cigerettes from his pocket, seeming to not pay too much heed to the two. He taps it against his other hand a few good times to pack it before flipping out a cigerette*

Evan Issac

*just lets Dylan clean him up, not really having any energy to protest. He idly watches his face and sees Raven out of the corner of his eye*

Dylan North

.. You realize that I'd do this all the time for you, right? If we were to get out of here, no matter what, I-- -cuts himself off, suddenly remembering that it's not just the two of them anymore. He shakes his head- .. Nevermind.

Raven

*lights it up, taking a good breath of smoke, seemingly idly ignoring the two as he takes out his phone, flipping it open.*

Evan Issac

*the caring words honestly make Evan somewhat uncomfortable, for he knows he's undeserving of that, as well as this kind of treatment* ...You'd waste time with me?

Raven

*gets up off the bed without a word, pushing off as he scrolls through "Stanley's" old phone, balancing the cigerette in between his teeth as he instead heads to the door.*

Dylan North

-bites his lip, unable to think of any way to phrase it properly- ... it's conformist. Forget I said anything.

Evan Issac

*shrugs his shoulders* I think I know your angle regardless. *lets Raven go without saying anything*

Dylan North

And it's stupid. -sets the paper towels aside, going back to clinging onto Evan- ... tired yet?

Raven

*Raven honestly doesn't appear as if he cares either way on Dylan and Evan, or maybe as if he's used to it; pushing through the door without bothering to shut it behind him. He flips through the phone, giving off another pool of smoke from his lips, holding the cigerette now with his other hand.*

Kyle Broflovski

*as soon as Kyle had left, he hadn't made it farther than three steps down from the door before he simply collapsed and buried his head in his knees, holding his head and silently shedding the tears of facing his worst nightmare having become some sort of warped reality. Stan was really gone now. Whoever the hell this guy was, he wasn't anything like any Stan Kyle had ever met... The other Stan might still be here, but they hadn't been able to break into HQ yet; why the hell could they do it now? It was futile. Everything was so futile.... Presently, his tears have stopped, but the pain is still stark and fresh on his face, still buried in his arms and on his knees, even after he hears the door open behind him*

Raven

*Raven pauses, just at the foot of the stairs, taking another long drag of his cigerette. He lets out a bout of smoke, slipping between his teeth, eyes settling on the boy just below him. Eventually he speaks, voice calm.* What are you doing.

Evan Issac

Yeah... *pulls Dylan to lay down on top of him* WIll you sleep tonight?

Dylan North

Already surrounded by darkness, should be easy.

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle wipes his eyes with his jacket sleeve - the white Fingerbang jacket, his new favorite that he practically never takes off - and grumbles* None of your damn business...

Evan Issac

*kisses Dylan in a surprisingly soft way before settling in, shutting his eyes*

Dylan North

-returns the kiss gently, cuddling up as close to him as he could get-

Raven

*He doesn't seemed peturbed. If anything, he just takes another drag of his cigerette before slipping to sit, knees apart, next to Kyle on the step with a dull tone. He smirks, dryly.* Uhuh. Well, Judas, whore. Some kind of fucked up world I landed in. Wizard of Oz conformist bullshit.

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle turns his eyes to Sta--/Raven/--and openly shows him a glimpse into his wounded, red-rimmed gaze* Yeah. It's pretty fucked up, all right... I can't even keep...my thoughts straight. */Especially while I'm looking at you right now.../ he thought bitterly* Everything seems to change in the blink of an eye.

Raven

*He took another long drag, lazily, letting it sift out through his nostrils for a second as he looked dully at the red head. And in another second, Raven dug in his pocket, gently pulling out a wad of crumpled paper. After a second, with dead eyes staring at it, he held it out, using his other gloved hand to take Kyle's and pull it up before depositing the paper flatly in the other boy's palm.* ...We all live in a conformist lie. Nothing gets to stay the same.

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle stares at the piece of paper blankly for a few seconds before opening it without bothering to ask what it is, reading its contents silently*

Raven

*Raven watches the other closely, idly, not saying a word. It turns out to be an old journal entry of Stan's, the conformist loser who had stepped foot in this world long before Raven.*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle's expressions range from hesitance at the start, to frustration in the middle, to a melancholy happiness near the end... But finally he settles in on the sadness he'd felt before he even opened up that journal entry. There wasn't much of anything in it that he didn't already know, of course. But it...was a lot. To be reminded of how truly happy he and Stan had been, even before everything started to get complicated. To read about a time when the most Stan wanted out of his life here....was for Kyle to be happy and free from any sort of oppression. He suddenly chokes on a sob, crumpling the paper a bit as he clutches it close to his chest, not even caring that Raven is watching anymore...*

Raven

*Raven continues to watch idly, expression still fairly blank. He lets the ash gather on his cigerette as he looks to the other boy.* Conformist fag really must've liked you. *He speaks as if the entry hadn't made it obvious, voice level.*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle nods weakly* y-yeah... I'd hoped he did, anyway... We were s'posed to talk about all this stuff...before he left... *He takes in a deep, shaky breath, looking back at Raven* Are you /sure/ you're not him? *his voice is almost pleading, borderline desperate* They didn't just...brainwash you, or something?

Raven

*Raven stares at the other, the burn on his cigerette slowing, a clump of ash gathering at its end. Eventually he taps it against the air, letting the ash break off to the ground before bringing the cigerette back to his lips and looking off in front of him.* ...I'm Raven. Sorry Broflovski.

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle isn't convinced. His mind is still on that time from the journal entry - when they'd been transported to the 1800s and all of the drama that had ensued: saloons, camping, getting kidnapped by bandits, real live /gunfights/.... It was one said gunfight that reminded Kyle of something that would tell him for sure whether or not this was Raven-from-another-universe or simply Brainwashed-Stan.* Your scars... *he murmurs, scooting closer to Raven and grabbing the hem of his shirt* Let me see your shoulder--

Raven

What--*Suddenly, his tone dipped to annoyed, grabbing his shirt to keep the other from prying it off,* What the fuck do you think you're doing, fag.

Kyle Broflovski

*glares at Raven impatiently, sniffling away the remnants of his sadness in lieu of this sudden streak of hope* I need to see your shoulder, dude. When we got lost in the 1800s timeline you and I were both injured during a gunfight. I have a scar on my thigh, and you have at least one that I know of on your shoulder that you got trying to protect me. If you have that scar, then you're not Raven. *Has a determined glint in his green eyes now*

Raven

*Raven looks at the other, as if slight on disgust.* What. Judas. You're being desperate. Clinging to a conformist lie. *He attempts on shoving the other off from grabbing his shirt.*

Kyle Broflovski

So what if I am? *glares and just scoots back even closer to Raven after being shoved, grabbing his arm this time with both hands* If you're still Stan, then somewhere deep in your brainwashed mind you are just as desperately hoping that I cling to this lie! Stan didn't give up on me, and I'm not going to give up on him. */Not yet, anyway/ he thought stubbornly*

Raven

*Raven sneers before falling back as Kyle made to grab his arm, attempting on wrestling away from the redhead.* What the fuck is your problem, Judas. Get the hell away from me. I'm not your fucking princess boyfriend wannabe--*He grits, still attempting to push the other off of him*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle swiftly reaches for Raven's knife, having seen exactly where he keeps it earlier, and throws it as far as he can out into the darkness of the yard in front of Jeremy House...and now that that's out of the way, he goes to fighting to get the other boy's shirt up and over his head for reals* I don't believe you! Prove that you're not him!

Raven

What--you conformist little bitch--*Raven yelps, making a wild grab for the knife as it's ripped away from him and tossed aside into the yard. He grunts, looking angry and alarmed, struggling to keep his shirt down and shove Kyle off simultaniously*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle /refuses/ to let up, knowing this might be his one and only chance to find out, so he continues to struggle against Raven* What are you afraid of, then? Why don't you just show me?! *he growls* Are /you/ scared to find proof that you're the Stan that Evan and I both think you are? If you're so fucking sure of yourself, just take off your damn shirt!

Raven

What? Are you some kind of fucking idiot?? Get the fuck off of me, you conformost fag--*He growls, wrestling with the other while on his back to keep his shirt on flat on the cement of the stairs, half inside the dorm while glaring, gaze incredibly biting and livid. Albeit despite his efforts, eventually the shirt is pulled up, but Raven fights every second on it; eventually pulling his fist back to try and land a solid punch into Kyle's face. Regardless, his shirt at this point is half off, enough to show the deep grotesque scarring along his shoulder.*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle is stunned, not expecting to see what is very obviously there, and also not expecting to just let himself get punched square in the face like that - but his shock runs so deep that he barely even feels it. He stops his movements immediately, everything going slack*

Raven

*Raven, clearly pissed off, shrugs his shirt back on, sitting up; hair a messm giving a fierce glare at the other boy as he regains himself.* What the fuck is wrong with you, Judas. *He shoots at the other, the words biting, not even bothering on paying attention to if the redhead is alright.* So desperate in your little Disney lies? Go fuck yourself, I hope your loser pathetic boyfriend really is dead. *He pushes to his feet, still looking somewhat frazled, flustered and heated on cold anger*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle shakes his head, Stan's words somewhat bringing his focus back. He says softly* You don't mean that. You can't mean that. He's you... Those scars are there, Stan. *He warily gets to his feet as well, stepping away from Stan several feet, walking down some of the steps to add to the distance between them, but eyes still focused solely on his friend* You can go see for yourself, if you want. It might help you remember something...

Raven

*Raven looks over, disgusted, as if Kyle is in reality too pathetic for him to handle, eyes growing darker on the other boy.* ...You are something fucking else, Judas. I mean, just, seriously fucking desperate, aren't you? Snow White waiting for his prince to come? Well guess what. You conformist fuck, I got those scars from fights. Back to back with the other goths. *He deadpanned, angry and cold, at the other, standing there and looking down on the redhead, gaze still harsh and somewhat disgusted; still looking a bit frazled, hair sticking up slightly from the struggle.*

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle shrugs, letting the insults roll right off his shoulders. His voice is quiet but clear when he speaks* I don't expect you to understand how difficult this is for me, right now. So go ahead - throw it right back in my face. If it helps you, I'll take it. For a while anyway... *He gives Stan a rather helpless expression* I wish I could make you get it, but I-- *he pauses* ...I need to sleep on this, I think.. *shrugs again*

Raven

*Raven, for all intent and purposes, doesn't look like he gets it. In fact he has a look of slight annoyance on his dark gaze, still eyes fixed on the other.* Yea? Newsflash you conformist whore, I don't care. Life is pain. Get over your fucking fairy tale lies and leave me alone.

Kyle Broflovski

*Kyle shakes his head as he turns his back to Stan and starts toward his dorm with a heavy heart. There is so much on his mind that he can barely even comprehend it all. He carefully folds up Stan's journal entry and slips it into his jacket pocket, holding it in his hand the entire way back.*

[relaxguyooc]

[3rd Short Log] Stan Marsh and Evan Issac

Summary: After getting a text from Kindergoth and being dragged back out from Kyle's "slumber party," Stan has a run in with Evan at the bar. Laughs on Stan's part, bickering and advice ensue over Evan's love interest as well as their typical dramalama shenanigans.

Takes Place: Thursday, Agust 2nd, very, very late at night. Part of Miniplot V: Beiberfest

Warning:Rating high due to some porny shit

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan sat again at a booth near the entrance, legs propped up against the cushions opposite him as he nursed a drink of Jack Daniels close to his chest. He was, again, waiting on Georgie for some kind of guard business, sitting around while she went off to do whatever it was.*

　

Evan Issac

*has been keeping pretty quiet lately with Thomas, and he does not know how to feel about the current events with Kyle S supposedly being here in Denver. Sighing, he finally heads out of the hotel room for the first time, fortunately not getting shocked. He heads down to the piano bar, trying to keep a low profile and needing a drink*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan doesn't particularly notice Evan right away. He takes a long drink, eyes off against the current piano player on stage, briefly missing Hen's music and work tackling the piano. When his eyes catch sight of Evan's enormously tall figure he grins slightly, tilting his head back as his dormmate walks by* Heyyy dude. Look who's actually out of his nest.

　

Evan Issac

*tenses upon being noticed, though he manages to keep his face stoic. He slowly meets Stan's gaze* Living in a fairytale, sunshine?

　

Stan Marsh

The usual greeting. Hey, guess I'll take it. *sort of gestures his glass to one of the seats at the booth he's propping his legs against*

　

Evan Issac

So you're drunk enough to drown out your cynicism. Maybe you'll die of alcohol poisoning. You've been living on borrowed time as it is. *stays perfectly still, not seeming to want to drink with the other at the moment*

　

Stan Marsh

Actually, *He says on a breath, not seeming too phased on the comment,* I'm actually pretty sober. *he shrugs* So. What, are you going to go sit in a corner or something?

　

Evan Issac

You're always drunk. That's how you function. *says pointedly, narrowing his eyes some* None of your fucking business. *awkwardly shuffles into the booth adjacent to Stan*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan shrugs again for his part, taking a drink* Not enjoying the whole Bieber Fest, dude? *Doesn't point out anything on Evan actually joining him*

　

Evan Issac

If you ever thought I enjoyed anything, you don't know anything. *checks his phone like he actually might be texting somebody for once and rapidly stuffs it in his coat pocket when he realizes he has no new messages* Fuck this noise. This is the epitome of conformist sheep being led to the slaughter. All those drones of 'fans'... Fucking morons.

　

Stan Marsh

Expecting a text? *raises a brow,* Dylan was out at the museum with us earlier. *He sort of shook his head, wryly tilting his glass in Evan's direction* Yea, well. Have to agree with you there, I think. *He shifted a DVD box set of their actual reality tv show, season 1, out of a bag over his shoulder, tossing it in Evan's direction* Got a whole fanbase out there, Evan. Pretty sure every one of us does.

　

Evan Issac

*ignores the bit about the text* What the fuck were you doing there? Not that I care. *glances up at Stan* Are you just going to keep waving that in my face or are you going to get me a damn drink? *he pauses as Stan toses the DVD towards him* Fuck them. I never wanted any of this noise.

　

Stan Marsh

Well, yea, none of us do. *Stan dismissed, sighing as he slid further in his chair. He gave the other an slightly uncertain look, but shrugged, waving over a waitress and motioning to Evan to indicate that she get him the same drink.* And dude, we were just...well. I was just scoping out. You know.

　

Evan Issac

*puts his head down on the table* It's the same old shit. Is Denver really so fascinating to you? *his voice is as dry as ever* You get off to having jailbait, sunshine?

　

Stan Marsh

Jailbait? Dude, really. *He sort of shakes his head, but still dismisses Evan's comment for the most part, taking another drink of his liquor.* Getting out of here, well, that's fascinating to me, honestly. And figuring out what here even is, man.

　

Evan Issac

That has to be the majority of your sheep herd. *perks up when he realizes he has a message on his phone. He lifts his head from the table, reading it over* It's all blackness. Where you are doesn't even matter when you're like an ant under a fucking magnifying glass.

　

Stan Marsh

Honestly, I'd rather be the one holding the magnifine glass than be stuck beneath it. *Stan mutters, fidgetting with his drink and catching Evan, again, looking at a text.* Okay, seriously, dude. I never see you texting. What's the big secret?

　

Evan Issac

Oh yeah. And you're going to do that while you're too busy getting off to the thirteen-year-old girls chasing you like rabid dogs. Be a leader, sunshine. *texting back on his smartphone* Why do you care? Go back to your fairytale.

　

Stan Marsh

Yea, I'll. Do that. *he raises brows slightly, looking at the other* So....not Dylan? I'm guessing. What, do you have some kind of love crush on Damien or something. *The boy leans foreword, abruptly grabbing the phone out of Evan's hands and tilting it upward to get a good look at the text*

　

Evan Issac

Crushes are for pubescent girls. And love doesn't work for anyone. You don't know anything. *has never actually come into contact with Damien yet. He flinches, Stan catching him off guard. Evan has been messaging Kyle Schwartz on his smartphone's AIM* You fucking thief. *makes an attempt to snatch it back, actually pissed*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan lifts his foot as a barrier between him and Evan, shoving it at Evan's face as he scrolls through the texts* What the....*He frowns, brows furrowing on genuine confusion, still lifting the phone up above him and away from the other as if an older brother hogging a stolen toy, leaning back in his chair.* Is this---is this Schwartz?

　

Evan Issac

*stands to his impressive full height, getting out of the booth. He slaps Stan's hand hard in an attempt to make him drop the phone, not caring if it breaks at this point and feeling oddly defensive* What the fuck do you care?

　

Stan Marsh

Oh my god, it is. *Stan said on a clear tone of disbelief; still trying to manuever the phone out of Evan's reach even though the other boy clearly out stood and outreaches him, tone as if, by now, mocking a younger sister on her preteen crush.* Dude. Dude. Oh. No way. *The boy's actually grinning on a painful mix of actual and very real disbelief and actual enthusiasm* Oh, no. Noooo, no, dude. *Still grinning ridiculously, eventually the phone gets hit out of his hand, Stan making a grab but missing as it fell to the floor.*

　

Evan Issac

*picks up Stan's drink while he's reaching for Evan's phone. The goth is not amused by Stan being so entertained by his expense. He splashes Stan in the face with the remainder of his drink, anger actually flashing in his frigid blue eyes. He kicks the phone further away and it slides under another table* Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Stan Marsh

O--oh oh, duuude. Duuude. *He's actually beaming, even through a whole face and splash of alcohol, appearing way too amused, and as if something particularly that Evan had just did only sweetened the deal of the situation.* Haha nooo way. Duuude, is this. This is serious, isn't it? Like, actually serious. Oh my god.

　

Evan Issac

*never has heard Stan say 'dude' so much in one sitting. He's still tense, and when the waitress finally comes back with Evan's own drink, he snatches it from her and downs it all in one gulp* I hate the implication you're making. I can message whoever the fuck I want. *slams the drink glass down on the table*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan beams at the other still, putting a hand to his mouth as if laughing at the sudden harsh reaction of the glass on the table* Oh yea, yea, totally, dude. Totally. And you're texting Kyle's cousin like the most nerdiest mouth breathing kid of all the states. *He's still grinning like way too much, voice almost on mock reminisence.* Texting like a teen with a crush. *sighs dramatically, still grinning* Aaah, I can hear the wedding bells now!

　

Evan Issac

*hates that he's instilling such joy into Stan since his aim is to make the other miserable* It's nothing like that noise you speak of. *shoves Stan, not caring that he's sitting* Conformist asshole.

　

Stan Marsh

*Just disolves into another fit of laughter or giggles, somewhere on the between, laughing into his hand at the shove* Awww, oh of course. Oh, yea, my bad. You were just. Waiting to get some uh. Some accounting done, huh? *He sort of wipes a tear, still grinning*

　

Evan Issac

*clenches his fists tight* Fuck you and your stereotypical faggotry, sunshine. *starts to walk away, apparently not wanting to stay any longer*

　

Stan Marsh

Aww--Evan, come on! I'm just joking! *grins and grabs his jacket from the table, throwing some money on the table before following off after the tall goth.*

　

Evan Issac

*feels like this is a repeat of Stan chasing him that one night where Stan told Evan to off himself and then apologized* Nothing amuses me anymore. Your humor's lost on me.

　

Stan Marsh

Well, man, to be fair it's always lost on you. *Stan points out, keeping a pace with the other, still seemingly amused*

　

Evan Issac

You're a lost cause. *bitter. He stops once they're outside of the piano bar, sighing heavily*

　

Stan Marsh

Aw, thanks. *Stan reciprocates on a mock friendly note, albeit still clearly grinning as he shoves the other much taller boy slightly at the shoulder* And. Riiight back at you, dude.

　

Evan Issac

Don't touch me. *just not in the mood for Stan's good mood, much more partial to the boy being a cynical asshole* What have you been smoking?

　

Stan Marsh

*He shrugs, pretty much just enjoying weedling Evan, apparently.* Hey, nothing, dude. Just little old me. *Stan resists the urge to just simply prod or shove at Evan again*

　

Evan Issac

The old you was a conformist faggot that played in the sunshine. *realizes how he left his phone in the building and starts to go back in, knowing that one of those moronic fans could snatch it up easily*

　

Stan Marsh

Old me? Pretty sure there's just one of me. *sort of turns on his heal and follows after Evan back into the bar*

　

Evan Issac

Yeah, the one that through the cane back in my face. *just seems generally bitter as he searches the piano bar for his smart phone*

　

Stan Marsh

Ah--oh....you mean. *Stan paused on a kind of finger point* Raven.

　

Evan Issac

What else? *very curt, looking under a nearby table*

　

Stan Marsh

Nope, I'm pretty sure it's just Raven. *sort of leaning up against the surface of the table* And once like, Toolshed.

　

Evan Issac

So. Everything's a game to you in your pathetic childhood? *finally finds the phone and snatches it up. It has some scratches on it, but amazingly nothing is broken*

　

Stan Marsh

Well, to be fair I'm pretty sure you once tried to mug us or something while we were dressed up. And Cthulu tried to take over the world....and, well, we got banished to another dark oblivion dimention or something. *He stands back up as Evan does as well*

　

Evan Issac

From how I remember it, you were sticking your nose into business that was never yours to begin with. *pockets his phone and meets Stan's gaze* Simply eloquent retelling, sunshine. *sarcatsic*

　

Stan Marsh

Oh right, yea. You guys wanted eternal darkness, or something. *just shrugs, again, not seeming too phased on Evan's dark demeanor* Honestly I can't remember how that run in even turned out.

　

Evan Issac

Death was going to become life. There would have only been saddness. *pauses, thinking but it's honestly a blur to him, too* Well, that's what wasting all your time in a drunken stupor does to you, sunshine.

　

Stan Marsh

Yea, yea. *Stan shrugs again, and as if on that point pulls his flask from his jacket pocket.* So, when'd you hook up with Shwartz?

　

Evan Issac

*rolls his eyes and takes a seat again at nearby booth, defeated* Is it really that obvious?

　

Stan Marsh

It is. Yea, it's. Pretty obvious. *sits back in the chair, facing the other*

　

Evan Issac

*props his elbow up on the table, resting his forehead in his hand* ...A few years ago. *actually being honest*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan raises his brows, looking a bit impressed* Really. Well. Wow. Not that long ago, then.

　

Evan Issac

It's not the same one. Not that it mattered anyway... *seems more disappointed than usual*

　

Stan Marsh

Well. Hey, did he know you at all? I mean, you were texting, right. *gestures somewhat to where Evan had slipped his phone away*

　

Evan Issac

*shakes his head* No. I just messaged him out of the blue.

　

Stan Marsh

So, he doesn't know you.

　

Evan Issac

Yeah. *more morose than usual*

　

Stan Marsh

Well...is he like you remembered him? *sort of leans in against his arms*

　

Evan Issac

To a T... *feels beyond awkward that he's actually opening up about this with Stan*

　

Stan Marsh

Well then. Go get him. *Stan gave a vague wave*

　

Evan Issac

*tenses considerably* Is this another one of your attempts at humor?

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan raises his brows* Nope. Serious, dude.

　

Evan Issac

I don't do that faggotry. Monogamy is for conformists.

　

Stan Marsh

Hey, it worked with you guys once. *Stan points out*

　

Evan Issac

Says who? *defensive* Everything always fades and always dies.

　

Stan Marsh

Well...says the phone you keep using to text him. *nods again vaguely to where Evan had put his phone away*

　

Evan Issac

All I did was talk to him to see if he was the same. That's all.

　

Stan Marsh

Yep. And he is. So. *he gestures again* Go after him.

　

Evan Issac

Same as in from my world. He's not. So I'm not going to drag him down into the dirt. *not comfortable at all*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan looks up, actually looking a bit taken aback. He pauses on a frown, looking uncertain at Evan*....Hold on. You're. You're protecting him.

　

Evan Issac

No. *his voice is flat and his face is ever stoic* Now you're really high on your sunshine fairy tales.

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan prods a finger in the other's direction,* You. Really like this guy.

　

Evan Issac

*doesn't like how Stan's reading him* I don't believe in any of that bullshit.

　

Stan Marsh

Well. He must've liked you. *Sort of concludes, still leaning against the table top,* And. Hell. It's sweet you'd think of him, man. But maybe you should leave that up to him. *raises brows expectantly*

　

Evan Issac

*rubs his temples, beginning to get a major headache* Just drop it, sunshine.

　

Stan Marsh

*He shrugs* Alright, okay. But just saying. Maybe going after him could be the right move.

　

Evan Issac

Goths don't go after people like faggy fairy tale princes, sunshine. *feels like he's almost castigating Stan like he would when he was Raven and attempting to be goth* Get us some more drinks.

　

Stan Marsh

*obligingly, for Stan's part, he leans back and waved a hand for a waitress to head over* And yea, well. Not sure if I really see him as a fairy tale price, honestly. But what can it harm?

　

Evan Issac

Who can it harm: Dylan. *very pointedly says the teen's name* My aim is to numb his pain. Not inflict more. He's possessive, even though he knows monogamy is shit and so are relationships.

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan shrugs* You never seemed this...*he gave another hand wave*...uh, attached? Emotional? With Dylan, to be honest with you.

　

Evan Issac

Those are sentiments I stay away from. I live as if everything's over. *waitress takes their order and promtply goes to retrieve the drinks*

　

Stan Marsh

Is that why you don't want to go after Schwartz? *Stan nods to the waitress, ordering his own drink*

　

Evan Issac

Stop fucking saying that. *rests his head on the table, sulking about the matter*

　

Stan Marsh

Well. Maybe you do give those sentaments about him...*leaning back* Just sort of saying, man. To be honest, yours and Dylan's relationship always just seemed...less of a relationship and more numbing of pain.

　

Evan Issac

You're not saying; you're insinuating. *keeps his head down, unable to even muster the energy to glare at Stan* How astute of you. That's because it was never a relationship and only about numbing pain. I don't have relationships. That's for Hallmark cards.

　

Stan Marsh

*He shrugs, again.* I guess. But you also don't protect people from yourself either.

　

Evan Issac

How do you know me so well all of a sudden? *kicks Stan in the shin from under the table while keeping his head down*

　

Stan Marsh

*hisses, leg automatically hitting the bottom of the tabletop by the knee, the boy rubbing against it with one hand* Well. I've had time. *He grits out, albeit it's in his usual cynical tone of voice rather than anything bitter*

　

Evan Issac

*remains on the table, quiet as the waitress sets down their drinks. He speaks again after she leaves* What do you think you are to me, you fucker?

　

Stan Marsh

Me? *he grits, still rubbing his leg* Nothing, why.

　

Evan Issac

That's the most nonconformist thing that's come out of your trap all night. *finally straightens and lifts his glass* To oblivion and the nightmare city of R'lyeh.

　

Stan Marsh

*snorts.* To oblivion and the nightmare city of R'lyeh? Really?

　

Evan Issac

Yeah. Now cheers before I find a bottle to twist in your face.

　

Stan Marsh

*grins just slightly, raising his drink to the other*

　

Evan Issac

*knocks his glass lightly with Stan's before taking a much needed drink*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan joins in, downing the whiskey with ease*

　

Evan Issac

*keeps up with Stan, putting the empty glass down once they're finished, the booze burning some in his throat* You really drink how I used to drink all the time.

　

Stan Marsh

*lets the glass hit the tabletop, glancing up and over to the other* Hmm? Yea, I...wouldn't recommend it.

　

Evan Issac

It's an observation. And it already happened in the past, sunshine. *draws a Gaga stick from his pack and lights up, taking a few puffs* Do you know if they have any other fucking brands of cigarettes here?

　

Stan Marsh

They do--actually. You're in luck. *Stan's looking down now at his glass, sort of tilting it despite there being no alcohol, as if vaguely thinking on Evan's words.* Though I'm pretty sure it's just things like Gaga Sticks. Pop idol names, weird ass flavors. Christophe's probably the guy to ask about all of that.

　

Evan Issac

Well, maybe there's an Evan brand if we're as fucking big as you say. And maybe they'll be a cheap immitation of Djarum Blacks. *takes another puff and taps ash into a nearby tray on the table*

　

Stan Marsh

*He shrugs* Maybe. The other guys would certainly be happier, even if they were smoking something named after you. *He grins lightly, leaning back in his chair again to wave over the waitress for more drinks*

　

Evan Issac

Maybe I'll subject myself to the cesspool of greedy corporations and browse for that very thing. *the waitress comes by quickly, prompt and seeming startruck by them*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan thanks her as she hands them two more drinks, shifting his glass slightly on the table* Well, you never know. Better be before this weekend, I guess, with that whole actual Bieber Fest thing going on. *He frowns a little, as if on a particular thought*

　

Evan Issac

Why does it matter since I left your faggy band? *sips at the whiskey, slower for now*

　

Stan Marsh

You don't think we're passing up a chance here. *He speaks pretty quietly, sort of more to himself seemingly, as if on an off thought*

　

Evan Issac

What? Something tells me you're going to be ambitious, and that is a waste of time.

　

Stan Marsh

*glances up, as if still thinking about something, biting down.*....Yea. *On that short word, he looks off against the table top, as if more in a serious note,* Well. Yea, I guess. *He doesn't sound like he's doing more than dismissing Evan, picking the glass up from the table and downing it all in one go*

　

Evan Issac

You're not going to escape. *staring directly into Stan's gaze*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan snorts, actually laughing slightly* Escape? *He grins, messing offhandedly with the glass and looking back at Evan clearly, despite the alcohol thick in his system* No, no...no, not escape.

　

Evan Issac

*takes a large swig, half of his glass empty* I thought that was your hair-brained scheme. Or are you talking for the cameras or whatever the fuck?

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan looks off, shaking his head, still on a slight grin.*

　

Evan Issac

Then spit it out, sunshine. *taps the tip of his boot against Stan's shoe*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan looks up again, tilting his head to the side* It's our first chance to meet Justin Beiber and Sadaam face to face.

　

Evan Issac

Oh. You care about that? *leans back and finishes off his drink, setting it down on the table* Should have known. You have a hard-on for every issue.

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan rubs his face, pinching his nose at the end before seemingly mustering enough to really look back at Evan.* Yea. Our maybe only. Chance. To meet the supreme ruler. *He was still looking at Evan, rather seriously, gravely.*

　

Evan Issac

Yeah. If hope wasn't dead, I'd hope for Cthulu to show up again. *really doesn't care, even if Stan is trying to be subtle and if he gets the other into trouble*

　

Stan Marsh

*After a second or two Stan eventually gives up, shrugging.* ...Yea, figured you would.

　

Evan Issac

Just shut up and listen to the piano music.

　

Stan Marsh

Eh. Little touchy, aren't we? *winces slightly, waving the waitress over again for more to drink but seemingly looking like it's finally all hitting him*

　

Evan Issac

*the waitress obliges them and gives them more whiskey before padding off to admire them from afar* Aiming to slip into a coma before the show, sunshine? You have a propensity for shit like that.

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan snorts slightly, bringing the glass, albeit it tips a little, back to his lips* It's not till Saturday dude, whatever.

　

Evan Issac

Keep drinking and you will. You might make me jealous if you die before me. *sips at his own drink, also starting to feel the effects*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan frowns, looking a little affronted* Die from what? Drinking? *He sounds as if dismissing Evan, again, finishing his glass off*

　

Evan Issac

Yeah. The day you take it too far. *while stoic, it sounds a little cryptic, and he swirls the liquid in his glass some, watching it*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan shrugs, still seemingly dismissing this comment and, as if in a front of how unseriously he took this advice, he waved the waitress over once again for more drinks* Yea, well. Guess we all have to die someday.

　

Evan Issac

The tragedy is that we don't die sooner. *still nursing his drink, and the waitress helps Stan* Why not ask for a whole fucking bottle, sunshine?

　

Stan Marsh

Well. I think I'll stay alive while I can, thanks. *he thanks the waitress as she goes to get more drinks and turns back to Evan, sort of dully pulling the large flask from inside his jacket and shaking it slightly* And hey. That's what this is for, isn't it. *The waitress hurries back, setting more drinks on the table.*

　

Evan Issac

You sure you don't want the rest of my drink while you're at it? You're going to turn into a drunken cockslut again. *sips at his, only about a fourth left*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan actually chokes on his drink fairly hard, coughing against the tabletop, his eyes finding Evan's face, eyes dark and attempting on sharp anger beneath his currently growing drunken haze. He really didn't need to speak to relate what it was his message was.*

　

Evan Issac

*a small smirk finds his lips. This is what he is partial to--Stan being the one that's uncomfortable. He starts unlacing his boot from under the table after he finishes his drink*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan bows his head again, eyes still dark even as he gently picks up the glass and continues to drink, albeit not in a showy swig like seconds before*

　

Evan Issac

*once it's unlaced, he slips his foot out of his boot. With his long leg, his sock-covered foot is easily able to brush against Stan's crotch, lightly kneading the other's dick with his foot, staring at him all the while*

　

Stan Marsh

*Again Stan chokes on a sharp intake of breath, this time leaping to his feet fast enough that the chair he was sitting on falls over and, while drunk, he himself nearly falls over, staggering and placing his hands on the table for support; face flushed red and gaze back to a furious kind of livid.*

　

Evan Issac

What? *keeps staring at Stan, eyes burning into the other's with utmost intensity*

　

Stan Marsh

*His face was still ridiculously red and staggering, Stan pushes himself to his feet, swaying while grabbing for his bag he'd let drop against his chair.*

　

Evan Issac

Going somewhere?

*remains seated*

　

Stan Marsh

*He takes a breath, still fumbling with his bag,* Well, hey, that's the general plan.

　

Evan Issac

Such a strategist. Alright, get the fuck on out of here, sunshine.

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan does his best on steadying himself, and well, working the fuck away the physical problem Evan had already started. After realizing, and drunk, he slipped back down into the chair suddenly, nearly missing the chair.* I...give me a second. *instead he threw his bag onto the tabletop*

　

Evan Issac

You sure you don't need a few minutes instead? *rests his foot on Stan's thigh, dangerously close to that region*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan winces, and as if on a loop his body's shaking, face going even more red whether from the embaresment in what was happening or his anger it was hard to tell.* Yea, I'm pretty sure.

　

Evan Issac

Why don't you just fucking relax, sunshine? You're trembling. *his foot dips into that region, brushing against Stan yet again*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan grunts, on a jerk of a reaction his head pressing to the counter face first, fists gripped against him, biting down.* Evan. *He whispers harshly and brings a trembling fist loose to push the other boy's foot off almost as if in a panic*

　

Evan Issac

It's pretty hardcore when you say my name like that. *staring after Stan in a totally lecherous way, though his foot falls back to the floor* This is the part where you give me a key to your room.

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan looks even more heated, his fist beside him, clenched hard; attempting to glance up on a second of disbelief, albeit it's subtracted somewhat from the glaze on his eyes.* W...-what?

　

Evan Issac

You heard me. Stop playing dumb. *trails his foot up and down Stan's calf in a sensual manner*

　

Stan Marsh

*bites down hard on reaction, and again his head is straight back against the counter with a hitched breath, face still hot.* That, hah--*He shut his eyes, hard,* No.

　

Evan Issac

*takes a pen out of his pocket and suddenly grabs Stan's right hand. He uncurls the teen's fist with his spindly fingers. Once he has a flat palm, he writes his room number there* When you graduate from cocktease to cockslut, you'll know where to find me. *puts the pen back and then pulls his boot back on, doing up the lace again*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan takes a few deep breaths, staring in a daze at the place Evan had written his room number. On the second, he took a few more breaths, burying his forehead hard back against the cool tabletop, clenching and unclenching his hand at his side as if to help him regain some form of sensibility. He breathes the words barely, not even sure Evan heard them when he spoke.* Screw. You.

　

Evan Issac

I doubt it will happen that way. *there's a hint of triumph in his usual monotone. He finishes his boot and stands from the table, somewhat unsteady. Not bothering with the bill they racked up, he heads out gracelessly towards the door*

　

Stan Marsh

*Stan clenches his fists, gritting his teeth harder on the comment, however not looking up even as Evan wandered off. It takes far too long for him to regain his composure and when he does he ends up feeling more frustrated, angry and pissed off than before. Stan, for his part, waits rigidly at the bar, only occasionally rubbing distracted, incredibly aggravated at the palm of his hand, taking in for more drinks.*

　

Evan Issac

*stumbles out of the piano bar and back towards the Airport Hilton, feeling some satisfaction for being able to get in Stan's head, regardless of whether the teen ever shows up at his hotel room*

[relaxguyooc]

[AIM CONVO] Evan and Kyle Schwartz

Summary: After reading some of the developments on Tumblr, Evan decides to investigate to see if this Kyle Schwartz is the one from his world.

Takes Place: August 2, late at night, during the Beiberfest miniplot.

 Evan Issac      It's you...

 Kyle Schwartz      What does that mean? I don't even know you.

 Evan Issac      You don't remember me?

 Kyle Schwartz      I don't recall...how do I know you? I think I would have remembered. Oh Jesus, why can't I remember?

 Evan Issac      ...Never mind. That's how it's supposed to be.

 Kyle Schwartz      What? That doesn't make sense...but either way, how are you?

 Evan Issac      Just forget it. I'm horrible. Life is only pain.

 Kyle Schwartz      The aches and pains of life can really be terrible. I get these cramps in my leg sometimes and it keeps me up at night. I know what you mean.

 Evan Issac      ...Yeah. You're really not like the rest of those lemmings, are you? How do you see the world?

 Kyle Schwartz      How do I see the world? Well...nobody has really ever asked me that before. I guess I view money as very important, because you can never be too secure. And it's good to have family by your side.

 Evan Issac      Nobody really talks to you, do they? Fuck money. Don't sell out to the corparations. I hate my family. Do you actually tolerate yours?

 Kyle Schwartz      Those corparations make the world go around, you need to understand these things. Why do you hate your family? that's terrible. Mine isn't perfect, but they're pretty nice as far as families go. We have a strong Jewish hertiage.

 Evan Issac      No, they make the world a zombie ratrace. You need to see the world for what it really is. Because. I don't need to talk about that. You care about religion faggotry?

 Kyle Schwartz      I don't know what faggotry is. Is is some sort of new thing? But yes, we come from a Jewish family and I'm very proud of our culture and faith. Maybe I could take you to temple sometime, you might like it.

 Evan Issac      It's lame shit... I don't believe in anything, especially bullshit like that. Your rabbi's nothing but a professional bullshit artist.

 Kyle Schwartz      That's really a horrible thing to say...you really need to be enlightened. What was your name again?

 Evan Issac      No. I see the world for what it is--an empty place full of conformist lies. ...I'm Evan.

 Kyle Schwartz      Oh, hello, Evan. I'm Kyle Schwartz.

 Evan Issac      Yeah, I know all about you.

[relaxguyooc]

[3rd Long] Stan and Evan

Summary: Stan is being held prisoner at the SPERC detention center after the incident with Kyle. Cursed Evan comes to Stan's rescue since he misses him terribly. 

Takes Place: June 11, 2012

Stan looked absolutely sick. The room was barred with a single door at the far of one screen and a two large speakers that took up the whole of each wall. A large screen was in front where Stan, seated on a large plush chair, sat, staring off in a kind of distant anger. The blaring of music seemed deafening, only causing him to gain ground on that speed of high disorientation; figure shadowed over the screen, the only actual light source in the room. He didn't speak, too far along to practically get a full hold on his own thoughts or sense of self.  There was only one thing that kept him remotely on any sense of control, one sort of intangible anger that held close on defiance. Thoughts on Kyle kept him here, even on the lost nature of his mind.  As it stood, the boy was strapped securely to the plush cushioned chair; looking almost deathly sick--shaking, pale, as he looked off on a numb kind of distance to the blinding screen.

  Evan missed his dear roommate terribly. He had not seen Stan in several days. While he expected the other to be getting adjusted to his living arrangements, alarm rose since Stan was nowhere to be seen in Kyle's dormitory. Evan vowed to the redhead that he would find Stan and bring him back home, like some kind of fairy tale prince. Underneath this nice guise, the real Evan felt like shooting himself in the head. He hated this compulsion. It was running his life and drowning out his true identity. Evan wondered if this curse would last forever. He did not know how much longer he could maintain his identity when he was being pumped full of conformist bullshit.      Rather than storm into the upstairs building like some badass, Evan came in there rather politely. He filled out all of the paperwork to see the latest prisoner. The Yates followers seemed impressed with his courtesy. A guard led Evan down to the dark room where they were keeping Stan. "You've got ten minutes, son," he informed Evan.      "Thank you, sir. I'll cherish the time," he told the guard. The guard let him in and lowered the music so Evan would be able to talk with Stan.      "Marsh! Look alive. You got a visitor!" the surly man explained. Then he left, locking them both inside.      "Oh, oh! There's my sunshine!" Evan gapsed in a longing voice. He rushed over to Stan and wrapped his thin arms around the boy’s quaking frame. "You look so miserable!"

  Stan sat there in a distance, the boy jumping in disorientation as the lights shot on; unable to really fully grasp what was happening. He felt oddly slow and sluggish, mind sped against where and who and what was happening--a repeat instead on sluggish unreliable memories surfacing, distant, at the corners of his brain. He didn't catch anything--not the guard's voice, and certainly not the reasons for the arms that flung themselves around him, staring a bit dazed and detached kind of expression off at nothing in particular.

  "...Stan? Stan!" Evan cried out in alarm after realizing he was not recognized at all by the poor boy. He was in a deep stupor. It appeared that Stan was blind to everything around him. "Please, wake up, dear friend." Evan held onto Stan tighter. "I've made something for you..." He took a small jewelry box out of his coat pocket and opened it, showing the homemade black and pink friendship bracelet. "Here..." Evan began to tie it around Stan's wrist.

  He still didn't respond. Even as the other tied the bracelet on his still secured and strapped down wrist. Stan seemed off on his own, incapable of really fully comprehending what it was that was going on even now. The truth was he couldn't have moved if he wanted to, even as his eyes remained distant, glancing as if on a struggle to the side. His head, and rest of the body, remained securely fastened to the chair.

  The lack of response was troubling. Evan was uncertain that he would be able to reach Stan in the allotted amount of time. "Please... You're going to be alright. They thought this was best for you, but I'm certain I'll be able to get you out of here soon," Evan said in a soothing tone near his ear. The inner him, the real him, felt like dying. The prime opportunity to manipulate Stan was going down the drain as the kind compulsions were in full force. He did not have a voice left.      "Please, trust me," Evan requested, his hand settling on top of Stan's once the bracelet was on.

  "...You'r....'eally......annoying." The voice found itself on weak and slightly still on that casting distance, the boy seemingly otherwise lost on his own; green eyes hazy as they looked off in still a good amount of detachment. He sounded tired and incredibly far away; hands and arms still clamy and pale as "Evan" touched them. He didn't respond to anything the other had actually said.

  "Please don't say things like that. I know you're not yourself." The ironic fact was that Evan was a far cry away from his original self, though Stan was indeed in a deep vegetative state. "You just have to think of the positives, Stan. Like being out in the warm sunshine and those animals you love so much," Evan informed him. The young man was undeterred in reviving his supposed best friend. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Stan's cheek.

  Stan gave no reaction on the over joyous nature, not seeming anything on affected by Evan, the usually pissed off or deflective boy instead simply staring off once more. He appeared caught in again, again lost with that confusion somehow forcing its way, as he struggled, back in through those dark green eyes; the mental gap between him and the other boy making him seem miles away. Stan tried to stay on task. Tried to focus, but his gaze remained listless, body slightly limp and unresponsive.

  For a long while, Evan remained by Stan's side. He wanted to comfort the other in any way possible. He kept his hand on top of Stan's and kept offering him therapeutic smiles. Smiles really said so much and did so much healing. However, eventually the ten minutes were up and the guard interrupted them. "Alright, Issac. Time to leave Marsh," the guard informed him. "Well, I wouldn't want to break the rules..." Evan stated as he got to his feet. "But could you please consider in your heart releasing my dear friend early? This environment is causing him to be so gray." "Yates's orders. Now let's go, sissy boy." Evan was not bothered. In fact, he went up to the guard and took both of his meaty hands in his bony ones. "Please, sir. There's oh-so-many reasons why Stan should be freed. I don't think punishment is the best way to reform a person. Rehabilitation is the way to go. And I've quite a few ideas on how we could help dear Stan." The guard was highly appalled at this point. He also had no patience. There was an urge to use his taser gun on Evan. He may have been tall, but he was certainly skinny. Instead, the guard opted for yanking his hands away from Evan and sending a right hook to his face, knocking the tall young man down to the ground. "Enough, pansy! Don't put your hands on an officer! Now let's go or you'll be in the cell next!" The blow was enough to send Evan's consciousness back to reality. Pain was the only thing that brought his old self out now with the curse, and it only lasted in short increments. He groaned and slowly started to straighten, eyes considerably darker. Acting on instinct, he straightened and grabbed the guard's pepper spray, which the middle-aged man hadn't been expecting. Quickly, Evan maced the guard. "Gaaah! Wh-What the hell? You little shit!" the guard bumbled, his eyes burning. What had just happened? That pansy wouldn't hurt a fly before. Wasting no time, Evan kicked the man in the balls as hard as he could, sending him down to the ground and temporarily paralyzing him. "Fucking hell..." Evan groaned. The stupid tennis shoes from the Gap were nowhere near as effective as his combat boots. He took a glance back at Stan. Of course he desired to abandon the sunshine fag, but that inner niceness voice was screaming to help in any way possible. Knowing the fag curse would win, Evan reluctantly took the stunned guard's keys. The tall goth padded over unenthusiastically to Stan's chair. "I'd say I hate you with every fiber of my being, but that takes too much effort. I don't give a shit about you, sunshine fag. These compulsions are simply giving me more pain." He searched through the set of keys and found the correct ones that undid the binds that held Stan's wrists and legs down. Evan freed him slowly but surely. Then he lifted Stan out of the chair, carrying him bridal style as he started to walk out. Evan felt like he was in that lame scene from The Body Guard. He could almost hear that dead conformist whore's song playing.

  Unfortunately for Evan, Stan was still in rather a detached, unresponsive state. And unfortunately for him, he got no real witness to the kicking in guards or stealing keys or even brief moments of sanity that flashed behind those as of late painfully happy eyes. Instead he fell pretty easily foreword, making no protests beyond an odd mutter, far cry from his typical wit, while Evan hoisted and maneuvered the unhelpful teenager into a better position in which to carry. He did however, make quite the polite rescue-ee in that he did nothing to struggle and or shove Evan off of him, albeit he did give a weak kind of push as if in a valiant stray toward his old self as they moved along.

  "Shut up," Evan remarked darkly, wanting to drop Stan very badly. The compulsion creeping back was the only thing that really stood in his way. Fortunately, they had not raised suspicion yet since the halls were empty. Evan was desperately searching for some kind of back stairwell rather than waltz out of the main entrance.

  Some kind of noise came from him, but it wasn't anything particularly helpful or coherent. Probably somewhere toward what could be hoped as some sarcastic or witty comeback, but whatever it was, it didn't quite come out right, instead just a slur of sounds. He did attempt on pushing the other again, this time something else coming out that did heed coherence in actual words, that simply being Kyle's name. He pushed a bit harder at Evan's chest, as if attempting to force him, in a fairly lame fashion, to let him go.

  Evan rolled his eyes. "I said shut the fuck up, sunshine," he grunted. The fact that the conformist fag was making lame attempts at escape proved irksome. "I can just imagine the way you would run right about now." The quip certainly was no compliment. "Judas is probably good and dead at this point." Evan heard footsteps and suddenly ducked into a corner as other guards walked down the hall. It would likely only be a matter of time before they figured out there was a security breach. They needed to get out of here fast. "Fuck..." The worst part was that Evan knew he would lose himself to the curse at any moment. He sighed heavily and put Stan down in the little alcove. The goth wanted to maintain himself, but that would be impossible. Disgustingly sweet sentiments started to flood his being, and the kindness compulsion was back in full force. "Oh, Stan! Some color's coming back to your face!" Evan declared in a sickeningly sweet whisper. He embraced Stan lovingly, never wanting to let his good friend go.

  Stan's struggle became more pronounced at those last words from the real Evan, practically pushing himself off the other as he was eased to the ground. He took a few seconds, struggling weakly in a heap as the other knelt back near him. Before the other boy might be able to think, and as he moved in to embrace Stan, Stan sluggishly pulled an arm back and threw an impressively fierce, full on right hook aiming at the other's face in a kind of disoriented bite of anger. As his fist connected, he fell again-straight to the floor, face first, laying there again; incredibly unhelpful in the scheme of any escape related endeavors.

    Stan succeeded in hitting Evan in the jaw. The young man had not been expecting that at all. He had been showing his good friend complete kindness, though he supposed he could understand since Stan must have felt terrified. Evan fell back as well, his back connecting with the obnoxious Bieber brand carpeting. He groaned low. The only positive was that the pain drowned out the niceness. And all positives became irrelevant as Evan began to think negatively again. "Yeah, that was really useful," Evan remarked dryly, sitting up. Just then, a guard was passing by. Over his walkie-talkie, an announcement was made. "The prisoner has escaped. One of our men is down. Make sure you seal all exits!" the voiced over the radio ordered. The guard looked directly at them. "Freeze!" he ordered. Evan rolled his eyes. Really, ditching the deadweight would have been pragmatic at this point. He rose to his feet and glanced at the vegetable out of curiosity. He doubted that Stan would move a muscle. "I bet you're going to conform like a bitch."

    Stan remained where he'd fallen; not giving any real good reactions to the guard's announcement or the sudden yell in their direction. Evan was right. It probably would have been easier to leave him there at this point; it didn't appear as if he was going to give an incredible amount of help in escaping. He seemed far too out of it to even fully process more on the question Evan shot at him let alone knocking out guards or sprinting down the hallways, the boy instead deafly making a struggle in pushing himself up and simply, actually impressively, falling and looking incredibly frustrated. He cast a glance, more on an effort than anything tangible, in Evan's direction, but providing no relief still in actual response or help beyond that.

      Evan's prediction had been proven correct as Stan uselessly struggled to steady himself on the floor. The guard started to walk towards the pair of them. "Don't you even think of resisting!" he demanded. Evan rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. He really wanted a cigarette right now. "Uh huh..." Evan picked Stan up in an unenthusiastic way, holding him from under the arms, the nice voice drowned out for now. "Try and take us alive. I'll kill sunshine if you do," he threatened back, voice completely monotone and sarcastic. "You wouldn't hurt your friend!" the guard challenged, thinking Evan was bluffing. "I don't do friends," Evan stated. Without warning, he mustered all his strength and threw Stan's dead weight on the guard, letting him collide with the man. "Ah! Get the hell offa me, kid!" the guard implored, squirming on the floor.

      Well if Stan had been in the sense to, he would've yelled at Evan. Actually, may have done a bit more on that, but as it stood he was pretty dam useless and instead collided obediently into the other guard, collapsed straight on top of him as the guy struggled and if anything, the other boy seemed even further out of it raising a kind of useless hand against the air and letting it fall again, muttering something on distant irritation striving towards snark fairly unhelpfully.

      Evan stared after the crumpled heap he created. That went over rather well. He turned his back, prepared to walk out, but then that nagging, conformist voice began to squirm its way back into his head. "Fuck..." he groaned, knowing he did not have a chance with this horrid curse. Then it seized control. Bright-eyed, Evan turned around. "Oh, no! Stan!" Evan gasped with utmost care. The guard gaped at Evan, surely thinking he was some kind of schizophrenic. "Please be okay!" He lifted Stan off the guard in the most tender way. Evan situated Stan in his arms bridal style. "I'm so, so sorry..." he hushed, kissing Stan's forehead. "Let's go home..." Evan began walking away towards the stairwell. The guard remained frozen on the floor, dumbfounded.

      Despite the otherwise bizarre behavior from Evan and the situation at hand, Stan seemed to try and resist. In a daze he managed to push against Evan's face as the other jubilantly returned for him and fawned over him, seemingly still far too detached to really make an actual effort in shoving Evan away as he was basically carried off. As it stood even in this state the boy seemed to still much prefer his before situated position against the by now obviously confused and dumbfounded guard, not that there was much choice, and not as if he was creating enough of an effort to really break free at this point.

    "Don't be scared," Evan hushed. "I'm going to take care of you and get you home," he assured in a voice that was ironically warm compared to his natural one. They went down the stairs without interruption. When they emerged again in the lobby, more guards were gawking at them rather than pursing them. The way that Evan smiled at all of them and said hello was just too freaky. It seemed like they were all wondering if those were the two they were supposed to be after. The pair successfully escaped from the building, walking off into the sunset like two conformist lovers in a fairy tale.

[relaxguyooc]

[3rd Abriev:] Cartman and Evan

Summary: Remembering that Evan also came from Christophe's Bizzaro World, Eric asks him to step outside at the party to see if he can get any further information about what happened. Instead of talking about the Bizzaro world, they talk about this one, and Eric isn't amused.

Takes place: May 26th 2012 at Kyle's Jersey Party

[relaxguyooc]

[3rd Abriev:] Cartman, Stan, Evan, Dylan

Summary: After the second round of auditions, a couple people stay after to grab a drink or two. Upon overhearing a particularly interesting conversation, Eric prods Evan for more information and he and Dylan discover something interesting about their dear friend Stanley. Drams and Laughs ensue.

Takes Place: May 22nd 2012 after Second Round of BoyBand Auditions