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Post by Bastien Duval on Aug 12, 2016 20:34:59 GMT
The car ride had been excruciatingly long and Bastien had refused to speak for the entirety of it. His father kept trying and trying to talk to him but Bastien couldn't see the point in responding. After all, he was being sent away because his father didn't want to put up with him at home. Bastien felt that he didn't owe his father a single thing in these, their last moments together for months to come. The worst thing about all of this to him was the silent car ride to this stupid academy was the longest his father had actually spent with him since his mother had passed.
Bastien stared out the window up at the academy as they drove past and pulled into the student's parking garage.
"Well," his father started. "We're here.."
'Thanks for the update.' Bastien thought to himself, sneering and getting out of the car and roughly slamming the door. He walked to the edge of the parking garage wall and peered out to the academy grounds below. The place was huge, it was more than a little intimidating, but he refused to show it. In the background he could hear his father on the phone with the movers, they should be here shortly.
"Bastien," His father called out to him. "Let's head down and check in, get your keys... Whatever it is you do here."
The boy rolled his eyes at his father's incompetence. How was it that the man was so successful but wasn't even informed on what the enrollment and check-in process was for where he was leaving his child... At least from the looks of the place he wouldn't end up dead.
Bastien followed after his father, walking down the stairs of the parking garage and out into the huge courtyard of the school. It was bustling with activity, he could only assume it was a free period for the students. Walking up to the main building, Bastien caught sight of a fuchsia haired boy in a crop top beating the shit out of another student. Bastien grimaced at the display of blood and vulgar language. Mentally he decided to scratch out the thoughts of his own life expectancy at the campus.
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Bastien hardly listened to anything the dean of admissions said to his father, he heard them refer to him several times but he refused to show any acknowledgement of that fact. Soon he and his father were guided off to the "Wolf Dorms" by his floor's designated resident adviser. The older boy looked about 17 if Bastien were to guess, probably close to graduating. Irregardless, he was overly perky as he regarded Bastien, obviously trying to get the young blond to speak or at least smile. Though it was to no avail.
Finally reaching the room, the RA unlocked the door and they walked in. The room was extremely clean and well kept, the bed was immaculate, everything seemed to have it's own place... It was the first thing Bastien could say he was pleased with today. Bastien was lost in thought but heard the RA ask him about the room.
"So, how do you like the room?" The young man beamed as he handed the door key over to Bastien. "Do you think you'll be happy here?"
"No." Bastien's voice sounded unenthused and annoyed, catching the poor RA off guard.
"N-no?" He frowned. "That's unfortunate, I think you'll have a great opportunity to grow here, Bastien."
"He's just being moody, today." Bastien's father cut in. "I think this is exactly what Bastien needs. He'll be around people his own age, people he can relate to."
Bastien tried his best to block out the rest of the conversation until the RA left. No sooner had the young man left the room did the movers show up, hauling in Bastien's boxes of belongings. With everything brought into the bedroom, the movers collected their pay and left Bastien and his father to unpack. Finally giving way, Bastien allowed his father short yeses and nos as far as where things went.
Somehow, this only made things more awkward.
Having made his bed, Bastien laid down and left his father to finish up dragging empty boxes into the hallway to be disposed of by the janitor in due time. The man leaned against the hallway and placed and hand over his face, rubbing his temples in frustration. He kept telling himself this was the right thing, that the community and the counselors here could help Bastien. But he couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong to send him away. What was he saying, of course it was wrong. But the fact of the matter was that his son had only gotten worse over time and no amount of forcing themselves to interact was going to fix that. A coworker had told him that a while into the separation, Bastien would miss his father and would call home to him... But what if he didn't?
The man was pulled from his thoughts by the ringing of his phone in his pocket.
In the room, Bastien could hear his father answer his phone. First there was the unmistakable annoyed tone, followed by the usual aggravated statements and finally a quick goodbye before the call ended. He was being called back in to work. Rolling over in the bed, Bastien faced his father as he entered the room once again, a hesitant tone in his voice.
"Bastien, um.. Well, work called and I need to be back in time for a meeting tomorrow morning at nine a.m." He waited in vain for a response from his son. When he realized he would be waiting forever, he spoke up again. "That means I have to leave earlier than expected today.. It means I have to leave now." He sat next to his son and placed a hand on his arm in some vague attempt at comfort. "Bastien.. I want you to know that this doesn't mean that I don't..." He bit his bottom lip and looked away.
"You say that but you're still going to leave me here." Bastien scoffed. "That's all this is and I know it. I'm not stupid."
"You got expelled, Bastien." The man withdrew his hand. "I dont know what to do with you anymore."
"You've never done anything with me." Bastien's words were cold and his refusal to even look at his father made them sting so much more. "Why would you start now?"
"Bastien..." The man bit his lip, his hand hovering over his son's side before pulling back and standing to his feet. "I need to go now. I'll keep in touch."
Bastien glared at the door way as his father gave his piss poor goodbye and left, closing the door behind him. The moment the door clicked, Bastien grabbed the ceramic pencil holder from his desk and slung it at the door. Part of him hoped his father would hear the loud shattering and run back in to see what had happened... But the man never opened the door. It was just as he'd thought, he really was just abandoning him here...
"Figures..." |
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Post by IOSIF PETRIKOV on Aug 16, 2016 23:57:17 GMT
[googlefont=Play]  [attr="class","howllyrics"]A MAN WHO'S PURE OF HEART & SAYS HIS PRAYERS BY NIGHT MAY STILL BECOME A WOLF WHEN THE AUTUMN MOON IS BRIGHT | [attr="class","howlborder"]It was around the time for new kids to get to the school. Iosif was a little relieved. He hadn't been notified of any dorm roommates. It was safe for him to assume that he'd have a room to himself. Finally. This would be his second year at this God forsaken school, and having to share everything with people got pretty damn annoying after a while. Not only that, but he felt a little guilty coming back to the dorm at all hours of the night after sneaking out post-dorm room check. After biting down on the filter of his cigarette and stomping the cherry out, Iosif figured it best to walk back to his dorm. He made a habit of biting down on the filter given he'd seen people desperate enough to smoke what was left of cigarettes they found on the ground. It was just downright pitiful, really. The young Russian shoved his hands into his pockets and crossed back to the campus. It was quite the sight to see some parents loading off their kids, some kids just toddled through all by their lonesome. He was well familiar with the latter, his parents sent him with a one-way ticket and his packed bags. But it was understandable, living on the opposite side of the country was definitely a travel they didn't want to make unless it was of dire importance. In the midst of his walk, he passed by an older man who seemed pretty vacant of anything. Iosif felt he could see something lingering : relief. As he reached his dorm room, he heard the sound of something crashing -- no, something thrown at the door. Immediately his eyebrows furrowed. Who the fuck was in there and trashing his room? Iosif clenched his teeth as he placed a white knuckled grip on the door handle. Whomever it was better have a damn good reason for throwing his belongings around. Above all else, it better have not been one of his more valuable possessions. Rather than storming in right away, he found it better to give some sort of warning. However his words came out harsher than anticipated. He flared his nostrils and spoke to the person on the other side of the door, a Russian accent lacing his words as per usual. "HEY, MUDAK! MY ROOM BETTER BE IN ONE PIECE WHEN I GET IN THERE!"Fortunately the door wasn't locked, so when he twisted it, his angry expression altered to one of surprise, then anger once more. As he examined what lay in front of the door, it slowly came to him. It didn't seem the object in front of the door was anything of his. Iosif carefully stepped over the mess, then finally allowed his gaze to fall on the new student in the room. So it seemed he did have a roommate this year. The boy looked rather young and feminine, not that the latter really had an issue with that. It was just that when most imagined boys in a reform school, they imagined rough, likely pierced and tattooed kids wearing all sorts of leather. However this kid was pretty posh. He supposed it was a nice change of pace. However he turned around and picked up the pencils, placing them on a nearby surface, making sure none of them rolled away. As he let out a sigh, he looked at the flaxen haired boy. "You must be my new roommate for the year," he began, offering out a hand. "Iosif Petrikov, I am a Senior in this school."[attr="class","howlnotes"] Bastien Duval // This is late and gross and I am sorry. 8') |
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Post by Bastien Duval on Aug 17, 2016 20:46:12 GMT
Bastien shot up in bed and looked to the doorway as someone called to him from the other side. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach disappeared almost instantly, replaced by curiosity and mild irritation. He glanced down to the broken ceramic pieces on the floor as they were pushed aside by the opening door, then up to the intruder. He was tall, very tall... had dark hair, and seemed well built. Bastien sneered in response as the older student spoke to him.
Student... Was he really?
He seemed older than an average student, certainly older than any of the students he'd seen on his way in. Though Bastien quickly dismissed the thought given he was in a school for "troubled youth" as the brochure had put it... He shouldn't be surprised by students who've failed a grade... Or four, as it would seem from looking at his apparent roommate. Watching as the older boy picked up the pencils from the floor, Bastien felt a bit of annoyance in the pit of his stomach that he hasn't picked up the ceramic pieces while he was at it.
"Russian?" Bastien regarded the older boy's accent as opposed to his polite introduction. "I'm shocked, the room doesn't at all smell like vodka and human trafficking." He rolled his eyes and gave a rather pretentious smile as he reached out to shake Iosif's hand. "I'm only kidding."
"Bastien Duval." He said, gesturing to himself and crossing his legs. "I hadn't expected my roommate to be older. They must have matched us based on our mutual cleanliness. Your side of the room is spotless, I should hope it stays that way."
In reality, Bastien was fairly certain the reason for this arrangement was far different than how they kept their living spaces... During his time in ballet class and at his previous school, it was almost too easy for Bastien to bully other kids his own age into doing things he wanted or at the very least, take out his frustration on them via "verbal bullying" and "misplaced anger", or whatever other nonsense the school's counselor had called it. This older guy wouldn't likely respond to any of his normal snarky remarks.
Though Bastien wasn't too put off by the challenge.
"Oh, there's something I should tell you." Bastien hopped off the bed and walked to the closet, opening it up. "Your clothes, for whatever reason," there was a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Were on my side of the closet, so I had them moved to your side. It only makes sense for your items to be on the side respective to your part of the room. But don't worry, I didn't let any of those dirty movers touch your things, I did it myself."
Shutting the door to the closet he walked to the bathroom and opened the door to showcase it as well.
"As for the bathroom, I request that you don't touch my towels, my hair brush, or..." He paused. "Well, anything really. If it isn't yours, don't touch it. I only touched your clothes out of necessity, the balance was driving me crazy." Bastien almost smiled but a sudden thought crossed him and his expression turned very serious. "And always wash your hands. I can't imagine why you wouldn't, but if I ever hear the toilet flush and you come out without the sound of you washing your hands first, I'll shove you back in there myself and hold the door shut until you do. It's a disgusting habit and I won't have it."
"But," He sighed, crossing his arms. "as I said, I can't imagine why you wouldn't wash your hands. You do seem very clean and reasonable. I think things should work out nicely."
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Post by IOSIF PETRIKOV on Aug 26, 2016 18:36:37 GMT
[googlefont=Play] [attr="class","howllyrics"]A MAN WHO'S PURE OF HEART & SAYS HIS PRAYERS BY NIGHT MAY STILL BECOME A WOLF WHEN THE AUTUMN MOON IS BRIGHT | [attr="class","howlborder"]A humored smirk curved his lips as he returned Bastien's handshake with a firm grip. He figured the other was only joking, but it was always fun to toy with the typical stereotypes that others seemed to offer him. And for a moment, it was a relief the other could joke with him so freely. Most were often intimidated by Iosif. He'd take the joke with a grain of sand and offer a slight rebuttal of his own, probably one that wasn't exactly the best, but still a joke nevertheless in his eyes. "They wouldn't let me bring my booze or hookers. But you win some and you lose some, I guess," he began. "...I'm only kidding, my work was nowhere near the human trafficking ring. But if you need anything, I can hook you up."It probably wasn't the best on his end to joke about crime in such a cavalier manner. However he figured why not. Obviously the other was in there for bad behavior or something of the like. He'd probably be used to those sorts of talks. However he did offer a nod. Iosif loved cleanliness quite a bit. It helped make up for his grizzly afterschool activities. Plus, he couldn't stand the thought of living in filth to begin with. When the other said about moving his clothes to his side of the room, Iosif couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow as he pivoted on his foot to go check his side of the room's closet. Lo and behold, the younger male had been honest with his words. Iosif supposed he didn't mind, they needed to be moved sooner or later, but the fact the other had gone out of his way to move them was surprising. As the other spoke about his own belongings, Iosif offered a nod. "I can respect that, then. And I do make sure my hands are clean. However if I would have known I was getting a roommate, I would have moved my belongings myself, but thank you."He wasn't too worried about stipulations that came with having a roommate. But he didn't care to share such a small living space with another person. Well, it wasn't too small but it wasn't exactly big enough, at least in Iosif's opinion, for two people to live comfortably. Obviously, however, it was given the fact that they'd managed to fit students in two at a time every single year. But he digressed. His next question though, probably seemed a little tactless, however it was probably best that he knew. Of course he wouldn't ask without offering an answer of his own. Iosif closed his closet door and sat back down on his bed, only to meet eyes with the flaxen haired boy once more. "So if you don't mind me asking, what are you in here for? You don't look like a bad kid. I'm in here for blowing up the science wing at my old school with a wrong mix of incompatible chemicals."The Russian offered a careless shrug. What could he say? While sure, he didn't actually do it but rather took the fall for his younger brother, that detail was better left unsaid. Instead, he brushed it aside and awaited a response from Bastien. The boy looked like a prissy private school kid who probably got send to Birchwood for running with scissors for all Iosif knew. [attr="class","howlnotes"] Bastien Duval // One day I will be on time with replies. /sweats |
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Post by Bastien Duval on Aug 27, 2016 5:14:54 GMT
"Oh?" He smirked and withdrew his hand "I should color myself lucky to stay off any hooks you offer." He walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. "I wouldn't want to end up on display myself." He said with a grin, humorously striking a lavish pose as he spoke. "Small, soft skin, blond. If all those gruesome documentaries I've seen are any indication, I'd be quite the little money maker over there." Dropping the act, he watched as Iosif went and inspected the closet. Listening to the Russian thank him for the act of moving his clothes confused him more than it seemed to praise him. "You're welcome...?" Bastien raised a brow. "There's really no need to thank me. It's not as though I moved them for your sake or anything. Though I do appreciate knowing this place didn't even tell you someone was moving in..." He sighed sarcastically. "It really makes me feel as though I'm in good hands." Bastien scoffed when Iosif questioned him in regards to his enrollment. He knew he shouldn't be annoyed at the question, but then again, he shouldn't be annoyed at a lot of things. Despite his annoyance, the statement that he didn't look like a bad kid almost made him laugh. Bastien knew well how his appearance lied. He was somewhat short, feminine looking, and dressed in clothes that suggested he'd been born with not just one, but several silver spoons in his mouth. Not exactly the delinquent look. Bastien felt that this could give him a bit of an edge as he was likely to become the target of bullying for his fancy, well bred demeanor. Not that he had any delusions of being a "bad boy", it wasn't as though he had acted without reason after all. Looking the Russian over, he decided Iosif did seem the type to do something so drastic as blowing up the science wing. But Iosif had also said "wrong mix"... If he had intended to cause such a scene, why not own up to it rather than making it sound like an accident? He was already here anyway. "Ooo, aren't you fun~" Bastien grinned at the mention of the explosion. "I certainly hope you don't plan on making any bomb threats here. Assuming you did it on purpose, that is." Bastien hinted at his suspicions but dropped the subject to answer Iosif's question. Crossing his legs, Bastien recalled the incident which had lead to his being sentenced to the academy. "As for me, I bludgeoned Timothy Hewitt to the point of unconsciousness with a metal cafeteria tray in the lunch hall at twelve-fifteen PM on August the ninth." Bastien recited, a faint smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. "Timothy suffered orbital fractures above and below his right eye, a large contusion spanning from his under his right nostril, up and over his right eye, into his hair line, and pissed himself in front of everyone while laying on the floor." Bastien sighed and looked up to Iosif with a listless look in his eyes. "I was forcibly removed by the security guard and detained in a small, gross room I didn't even know existed in the school. Then I was escorted to the principal's office where I was greeted by my father and I had to sit and listen to Timothy's mother call me a "horrible monster" while I stared Timothy in his one functioning eye... Then I was expelled and dropped off here." "I heard they're ordering flimsy styrofoam lunch trays now." |
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