[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/vcyTlTu.png[/img][/center][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center] [hr][center][color=silver]π•Šπ•–π•‘π•₯. 𝟝, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / π•Œπ•Šπ”Έβ„π•€π•ƒβ„• 𝔼𝕒𝕀π•₯ / / β„π• π•€π•‘π•šπ•₯𝕒𝕝 π”Ήπ•¦π•šπ•π••π•šπ•Ÿπ•˜ β„‚ / / πŸ˜πŸœπŸπŸ™[/color][/center][hr] [quote][i]A simulated smile at the door. Eyes watching him, blinking in slow motion. Body as still as a mannequin. Can't break eye contact. Can't move. Can't breathe quickly. He hadn't failed, yet. But his nosebleed was spiteful, and he swiped at the dripping blood. The door crashed against its frame and the house reverberated with the impact. A lock clicked into place--only from the outside.[/i][/quote] He woke up in a panic again, the strain of the new, hostile environment dredging up nightmares that sloughed memories off like layers of sludge. Christmas waited until his heart stopped threatening to beat out of his chest before getting up. Returning to the hospital after Sander had effected something of a rescue had not been his first choice, but when the other option was to remain in the same room as Sander, the hospital and their cold doctors now seemed more appealing--in a complete reversal of his sentiments from before. If there was one thing Christmas feared more than dying, it would be the justified resentment of people who understood him. A Band-Aid around his right index finger was the only evidence that he had almost given in to the temptation of 'friends' again and Christmas slipped the adhesive bandage off his finger, examining briefly the fine, red line that remained of the wound. Too many ways to run away from himself and he knew the bad end there in shocks of heat and bruises blooming on his skin. Too easy to tell himself this was okay as long as he could rely on someone. The hospital hallway was chillier than the room he had been directed to and Christmas looked for someone to point him towards a bathroom. Most of the hospital staff were gone at this time of night and he wandered through the well-lit hallways, avoiding the darkened corridors. Perhaps it was better that he remain in the hospital building. If he reassessed it properly, he could just spend the rest of his days here, relatively safe from the dangers of the outside world until they decided he was no longer useful. That might be a better fate than dying on the battlefield. It bothered him that he couldn't definitively pin that onto his mental billboard. [i]Might be.[/i] Several guards on patrol threw him suspicious glances, but curfew seemed more relaxed in the hospital building, something Christmas was infinitely grateful for. He wasn't sure if he could avoid using the bathroom until six in the morning. The humming of hospital machinery and some distant footsteps almost drowned out the raised voices coming from an adjacent hallway. Closer, he could distinguish several voices--loud, with occasional stops where they seemed to be waiting on a quieter response. For a moment, he almost considered just going somewhere else and not involving himself in that mess, but he really needed to use the bathroom and there wasn't anyone else in sight. Had he remembered the way towards the lobby, he would have gone that way, but the signs pointing towards different wards and stairwells were more confusing than helpful. He'd just ask and quickly run away, he decided. [hr] [color=f7976a]"W-well, if it isn't Mr. Francisco. Late night for you?"[/color] the short, balding Dr. Patterson greeted the subnatural staff member's sudden appearance in the bathroom at almost five in the morning. He had just entered a bathroom stall when the sound of movement against the stall door had made him turn around. To the man's credit, he composed himself quickly, refusing to be cowed by the Director's left hand. Looming over the stall door, four red eyes peered at him from within a crest shaped black mask with four large horns. The two longest and centermost horns partially followed the curve of the man's crown, extending backwards and parallel to his scalp before curling forward at the tips several inches past the back of his head. The lower two horns weakly imitated the same form, flanking the sides of the head. Finger-length spikes jutted out from the temple on either side, along with two smaller spikes spaced out along the masseter. The face of the mask split at fine, rigid edges along the vertical center, cordoning off into three horizontally layered sections in the shape of shallow V's that contoured around the profile of the head. At an angle, the layering of the partitions would give the vertical junction down the center of the mask a sharp protrusion. Further down, the mask tapered sharply past the chin, dipping towards the Adam's apple in a vague hook. The structure of the mask very losely followed the contours of Fredric's cheekbones and brow, with the four faintly glowing red eyes lining up in parallel, vertical pairs, positioned in the pointed, angled recesses forming the illusion of pitch-black sclera below the first and second V's--roughly where the man's eyes and cheeks would be. [color=f7976a]"Hey there, Dr. Fatterson!"[/color] Fredric's smile behind the mask was practically audible as he drummed his fingers along the top of the door. It remained a wonder how the mysterious mask failed to muffle his voice to any degree as he spoke. [color=f7976a]"Whatcha doin'?"[/color] he asked, cocking his head to the side as he ignored the question. [color=f7976a]"I was...it's quite obvious, isn't it?"[/color] the doctor blinked away his instinctive trepidation at the sight of the mask, ignoring the slight against his surname. He had seen Fredric's power before. It wasn't dangerous. He kept telling himself that. [color=f7976a]"Not that, silly,"[/color] he responded, with slightly less pep. [color=f7976a]"What are you doing with our new healer?"[/color] [color=f7976a]"I...I'm not quite sure what you mean, exactly."[/color] Fredric chuckled. [color=f7976a]"You wanna try answering that again, Doc?"[/color] [color=f7976a]"I'm [i]quite[/i] sure I don't know what you mean,"[/color] the man tried again, more firmly this time. [color=f7976a]"What? You don't trust me, Dr. P?"[/color] He sounded offended. [color=f7976a]"I thought we were friends."[/color] [color=f7976a]"Please get to your point, Mr. Francisco. Benediction may be around, but he hasn't deigned to heal anyone other than the Director's select group. We're all still very busy. Unlike you,"[/color] he couldn't help trying to take the subnatural down a notch, not only because Fredric was literally talking down to him. Over a bathroom stall, no less. [color=f7976a]"Not as busy as you would've been without young Mr. Halvost, though. Right?"[/color] Fredric ventured with that infernal smile in his voice again. The doctor didn't respond. The mask faded away, revealing Fredric's freckled face, beaming down at him triumphantly. [color=f7976a]"Bingo!"[/color] The smile faded next, [color=f7976a]"Now why don't we start from the top?"[/color] [color=f7976a]"You have no idea how difficult this is without a healer subnatural. Don't pretend like this isn't beneficial,"[/color] Dr. Patterson spoke through gritted teeth. [color=f7976a]"Don't get so defensive, Doc. I heard dodging questions leads to hair loss. Look, I'll make things really simple for you and your follicles--" [/color]the mask appeared on his face again, [color=f7976a]"I don't see Mr. Halvost back here unless he's got a reason to be and [i]you[/i] don't see me coming back and asking questions. Deal?"[/color] [color=f7976a]"Then you'll be glad to know he came back of his own volition earlier,"[/color] the man ran a hand nervously through his thinning hair at Fredric's repeated jabs. [color=f7976a]"Clearly he [i]wants[/i] to be here."[/color] Fredric was silent for a moment. Exhaling slowly as the red pinpricks of light on his mask narrowed. [color=f7976a]"Is that so?"[/color] he said slowly. [color=f7976a]"Well then, Dr. Patterson, I'm sure you wouldn't mind taking a brief walk with me?"[/color] [color=f7976a]"I have to get back to the patients--"[/color] [color=f7976a]"Oh, please, Dr. Patterson. You always have time for me. Step out of the stall now, if you wouldn't mind."[/color] He stepped away from the door, tapping his foot rhythmically as he waited. The doctor considered refusing. Considered just saying "No" and seeing what Fredric Francisco would do about it, consequences be damned, but he wasn't keen on Fredric ordering a nearby guard to break the stall door down, and he [i]definitely[/i] wasn't keen on the Director herself getting involved because one of her doctors was busy cowering in a bathroom stall. It was an unwritten rule that Rosa Schur and Fredric Francisco had free rein of the place, to a certain extent. But that extent was, without a doubt, much higher than the regular staff members. Furious, but holding his tongue, the man slid the stall door's lock open and stepped outside. [color=f7976a]"Make this quick,"[/color] he spat. [color=f7976a]"Of course, amigo!"[/color] Fredric grinned, gesturing for him to leave first. Dr. Patterson grudgingly ambled out of the bathroom, doing his best to keep discomfort and hatred off his face long enough to get Fredric out of his hair--or lack thereof. To be frank, he hated the smug bastard, and a little niggle in the back of his mind told him Fredric was 100% aware of this, even if the subnatural had never directly asked the question. Why else would one of the Director's advisors choose a bathroom stall at five in the morning to harass him? And he still needed to take his shit. In his irritation, the good doctor nearly ran into someone just around the corner. Like speaking of the devil itself. The surprised healer boy in question was standing in front of him, stammering out an apology and looking like he was ready to flee. Fredric's mask, a good head and half taller than the doctor, popped out from around the corner at the sound of his voice. [color=f7976a]"Hey! Just the kid I wanted to see!"[/color] he chimed energetically as his body followed, lingering just behind the doctor as he rested a hand on the man's shoulder. Christmas jumped, shouted, and stumbled several steps backwards at the sight of the black, horned mask with vicious, red points of light where eyes and cheeks should have been. As the cherry on top, he lost his balance and fell onto his ass where another yelp of pain resounded through the otherwise deserted hallway. He had needed to go to the bathroom, but that could wait until night stalkers with four-eyed masks weren't prowling the corridors of the hospital. [color=f7976a]"Whoops!"[/color] the mask faded away and Fredric's face appeared with a sympathetic grimace, [color=f7976a]"Sorry about that, kiddo. You're our super duper new healer, aren't you?"[/color] The "super duper new healer" slid a bit further away, nodding fearfully in response. He wasn't sure if the "super duper" part applied to him, but "new healer" was close enough. Fredric frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in a wounded sort of expression. He crouched down and held out his hand, offering to help the youth up. [color=f7976a]"You're not scared of my silly mask, are you?"[/color] he smiled warmly, just before the mask reappeared. [color=f7976a]"Name's Fredric. You can call me Freddy. Can I ask you a quick question?"[/color] Christmas nodded again, words still not ready to form on his lips. He took the proferred hand only because he was distinctly afraid of what this particular subnatural could do to him if he didn't. It seemed most of his decisions lately were just ways of avoiding other consequences. [color=f7976a]"Why are you here?"[/color] [color=8493ca]"B-bathroom...?"[/color] Fredric paused for a moment before laughing quietly to himself. [color=f7976a]"I should really stop asking vague questions around the bathroom, huh?"[/color] he chuckled, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, [color=f7976a]"Why are you here at the hospital?"[/color] [color=8493ca]"I--"[/color] the doctor in front of Freddy was glaring daggers at him, and Christmas had no idea what he had done wrong, but between the red eyes and the angry doctor, he decided not offending Freddy was more important. [color=8493ca]"I was...helping?"[/color] [color=f7976a]"Because you wanted to?"[/color] Christmas stared at the four unblinking red lights. When he finally answered, it was with a duck of his head and a barely perceptible [color=8493ca]"No."[/color] [color=f7976a]"Oh, is that right? Then stop wandering around in here and go back to your room. Shoo. And if the doctors give you trouble--"[/color] he handed him a plain black business card from his pocket. The name 'Fredric Francisco', followed by a phone number, was printed in white type-writer font. On the back were four red diamonds, aligning in the same pattern as the lights on his mask. [color=f7976a]"Please don't hesitate to give me a call."[/color] [color=8493ca]"Oh--I--uh, thank you,"[/color] he took the card automatically, caught up in the tall man's pacing. Fredric returned his hand to Dr. Patterson's shoulder, [color=f7976a]"Now, if you'll excuse us-- the doctor and I are going to finish taking our walk. Have a nice night, Mr. Halvost!"[/color] With a quick gulp, Christmas waited until the pair had turned a corner before pocketing the card. It occurred to him then that Freddy had already known his name. He shivered in the aftermath of the strange encounter, bathroom urges temporarily forgotten. When the sounds of footsteps and Freddy's smooth (and vaguely sinister) chuckles had faded, he at last ventured into the bathroom, taking care of business there before returning to the hospital room they had set aside for him. He'd return to the suite later, he decided, figuring he could hide out somewhere not-the-suite for a while to sort out his almost instinctive reliance on others. Even conscious of it, he was too easily caught up in someone else's stride [i]and before he knew it, they were friends, and he'd belatedly realize this wasn't what he'd signed up for--the expectations of connections, and guilt, and confessions, and consequences he never wanted to deal with.[/i] Because the cowardly tendencies overshadowed everything else, people never realized how unbearably selfish he was until it was too late. [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center] [hr][center][color=silver]π•Šπ•–π•‘π•₯. 𝟝, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / π•Œπ•Šπ”Έβ„π•€π•ƒβ„• 𝔼𝕒𝕀π•₯ / / π”Ήπ•¦π•šπ•π••π•šπ•Ÿπ•˜ β„‚: β„π•–π•˜π•šπ•€π•₯𝕣𝕒𝕣'𝕀 π•†π•—π•—π•šπ•”π•– / / ~πŸ™πŸŸπŸ˜πŸ˜[/color][/center][hr] The registrar's office was as classy a building as the rest of campus, but Christmas didn't remain to admire it. He had added several more things to the request form: Lawrence's book [i]Meditations[/i], which he had left in the military truck prior to the battle, and Lawrence's jacket, which had been removed by the hospital staff, presumably, since he hadn't found it despite a general search around the original room he had woken up in. The former he requested sent to his room and the latter to Lawrence, wherever he was. The rough results of the battle he had gleaned from excited chatter around the campus and the quiet conversations among the hospital staff. It had, apparently, been a total victory, but he could hardly rejoice in that. He couldn't remember most of it. And apparently [i]the[/i] Benediction had healed some people in the hospital. An hour after hearing it, he pieced together why he was completely healed. And then he stopped thinking about it, turning his thoughts elsewhere to dodge the incoming panic that a Precursor had come for the group of students. Too much to think about. Ramifications that extended too far. It was tempting to return to the suite and tuck himself into bed for another quiet session of aimless daydreaming on his Vita, but he refrained. He had been lucky enough to not encounter anyone on the brief stop to pick up his tests and forms and he wasn't about to try his luck more often than he could help it. That left the question of what to do for the rest of the day. After the emergency, the terrifying Director had been surprisingly unobtrusive--entirely absent, actually. He thumbed his sleeve in thought, the battery-dead Vita clutched in his other hand. Previous classmates had sketched in giggles and rumors rough renditions of how things worked for subnaturals while he had been [i]one of them[/i], but it had never seemed like anything he cared about. Never would be his problem, right? So he had simply tuned it out and focused instead on the in-class work assigned. The bulk of everything he didn't want to think about revolved around the crumbling world and the magical humans, so being here, at what was effectively the heart of the chaos, felt like a nightmare he was just having trouble waking from. In the glimmers of moments where his mind wandered too far into its own depths, he distinctly understood his new status as a "subnatural," but the thoughts stopped there, refusing to go any further. He knew--faintly, like something on the periphery of his vision that he wouldn't acknowledge--what was at the back of his mind, even deeper than the fear and panic. Scared of it--his own shadow. He would have chanced a trip to town for some essentials, but had absolutely no clue how to navigate his new home, map or not. Resigned to just the campus and the locations he had somewhat explored, Christmas whiled away the hours peering into buildings that seemed open to the public, watching other students head into and out of certain rooms with books and bags in hand. Almost a regular school, if you didn't look at the guards patrolling with their weapons at the ready, the cuffs on the students' ankles, and the disturbing lack of students on such a large campus. Eventually, he parked himself at a corner table in the dining hall, a light plate of food in front of him as he willed himself to pretend like everything was okay if he closed one eye, tilted his head, and maybe turned off the lights. It helped that a nearby table drowned out his churning thoughts with excited chatter about Benediction. Settling into the familiar rhythm of surrounding background noise, he ended up staring out the window for hours, lost in dreams about [s]better[/s] different days. As night fell, Christmas remained in the dining hall for as long as he comfortably could before the dearth of people made him aware of the mostly empty space. His plate had remained largely untouched, and he finished the cold food before wandering out. He considered sneaking into the suite and going straight to bed, but the thought that he might encounter Sander awake made him veer straight for the hospital building instead. When a nurse asked him what he was there for, Christmas had stammered out a series of noises that failed to form proper excuses. Eventually, he settled on a bumbling request to just sleep in the hospital for a(nother) night, if that was okay. She had asked for his ID and he had produced Freddy's card with his ID behind it. At the sight of the card, the nurse had laughed sheepishly and shown him to an empty room. In the lingering smell of antiseptics and body odor still clinging to the room despite a freshly prepared bed and polished floor, Christmas reluctantly fell asleep.