>>28259535
>Keep the note carefully and relax for a while. It's 3.40 in the morning, there's not much point sleeping again.

>>28259535

> Keep the note carefully and relax for a while. It's 3.40 in the morning, there's not much point sleeping again.

Sit back, watch rain.

Maybe fap to Elina?

>>28259575
>>28259590

'Man,' you fold the note carefully into quarters, and then stick it into your drawer at first. But then you see how messy the drawer is with stuff and hesitate. Best not put it here, lest you throw the note away as well when you clean it up.

Instead you put the note into your stationery box and close it securely, and just as the thing clicks closed, another question comes to you.

... how did Elina know this was *your* window?

... and how did Elina get to this window? You lean at the windowsill and see that it is right above a wide gap which goes down to the basement and her apartment. Come think of it, it's really far down, about 12 or 15 feet. Maybe she's just living directly under you? But then how does she throw a note so accurately as to land right outside your window?

Oh well. Sitting down, you look at the time and figure it's best not to try sleeping again. Mom will be back from her job in an hour or so, and you should be up by then, making breakfast for her. Working at Orinoco.com filling in orders doesn't sound hard, but mom always looks so exhausted...

Just then, you hear a noise from below you. Wait, not a noise... it's a voice. You recognise it easily, though the anger in it surprises you.

It's Elina; she's yelling something.

> Try to listen in somehow.
> Ignore it, do something else.
> Other.

>>28259797
>> Try to listen in somehow.

Stay in your room though.

>>28259797
> Try to listen in somehow.
By sticking our head out the window?

>>28259797
Bye the way, before we go to school we should try throwing a piece of paper at our window to see if we can get it there like Elina might have.

>>28259890
By*** damn

>>28259797
> Try to listen in somehow.
And kill the lights.

>>28259847
>>28259851
>>28259890
>>28259913
>>28259981

Your room is already dark - you've been reading by streetlight all this while. That's how bright the bloody white lamps are, but you're kind of used to it by now at least.

Well, even in your room you could hear a little bit of it, but you'd hear a lot more if you could open the window a little, and maybe lean a bit... your hearing has always been quite sharp, which is a bit of a curse - you know what people say to each other, and what people say *about* each other, even when they whisper it in class. The only comfort is that they've stopped talking about you nowadays.

What you hear is intriguing... if you could understand it. Just as you thought - English isn't Elina's first language; she's speaking that, or rather yelling it, right now. What... what language is this? Her voice lilts and drops and rises, just the same way as it does when she speaks English, but the words are completely unrecognisable.

One more thing you note - it's mostly Elina who's yelling. She's absolutely *furious*. And she has to be yelling at Kelvin, who's... silent.

> Roll d100 to try and pick out words.

Rolled 83

>>28260098

Rolled 38

>>28260098
Come on Stan!

Rolled 59

>>28260098

Rolled 48

>>28260098
We like high, right?

>>28260123
>>28260133
>>28260232

> 83: nicely done.

Even when suffused with rage, though, the voice somehow sounds... nice, and attractive. Maybe it's just because it's a girl who's yelling, or maybe it's because she's yelling in her language.

Leaning almost out of the open window, lying low to get as close as you can, you can pick out what you think are certain words. Sometimes she says 'me', just like in English, and sometimes she says 'ya', while Kelvin - you can tell because you can now hear him, he's just talking very softly - is referred to with 'dei' and 'du'.

There's other sounds that keep coming up too. Ohh. Och? Also, the 'or' sound seems to be very prominent, popping up all the time.

What, is she speaking German? You've heard people speak in German, and it sounds a little similar, but then you don't know enough to be sure... what languages sound like German? Was it Danish and Swedish?

Is Elina either of those three, maybe? Or, like, Norwegian maybe?

> Try looking it up on the net.
> Wait until Mom comes home. Stop eavesdropping, you busybody.
> Get ready to make a nicer than usual breakfast for you and her.
> Other.

> Yes, we do take high rolls.

>>28260416
>Try looking it up on the net

Then go make breakfast for the family

>>28260416
>> Try looking it up on the net.

>>28260416
Our machine is lower end, but does it have a mic? Try recording some of the yelling if it yes. Also, do we have a webcam?

>>28260416
Do we have a laptop or a desktop?

>>28260620
>>28260536
>>28260510

You go to your cheap and cheerful - well, cheap and grumpy - laptop. It does indeed have a webcam, and a built in microphone as well, not that you ever use it.

The attempts to record their conversation, however, is foiled by the constant drizzle which patters on the floor and leaves just outside your window. All you can hear is a faint 'shhhh', and lots of distant yelling - the rage without the words.

What the fuck has Kelvin done? You wouldn't trust that guy with anything, to be honest. But then again, you kinda presumed that if they got into a fight, Elina would have by far the worse of it. Looks like you might be wrong...

Sighing, you end up doing things the old fashioned way. It's not German, for sure. Danish sounds like people talking with marbles lodged in their mouth. But then you bring up a clip from some Swedish love story or something, and blink as they begin lilting and toning their way around the words.

... So she might be speaking Swedish? What... why's she *here* then?

Absorbed in your searches, you are suddenly jerked out of your reverie by the door opening. Mom's home. Running out, you see her face - sallow and exhausted - peek in, and then she puts some groceries from the 24 hour supermarket on the floor.

'Hey, Stan.'

'Morning, Mom...' her look at you is, as it has been for three or four years, somewhat lost. As if you were nothing but a reminder of someone else she's lost.

> Make a nice breakfast for Mom. Talk to her.
> Rush breakfast, let's head to school early. The early morning is the only school time you really enjoy.
> Other.

>>28260724
>Make a nice breakfast for Mom. Talk to her.
Tell her about the neighbors, and the cake. Do not tell about the fighting, yours or Elina's.

>>28260724

> Rush breakfast.

Best we can do for mom is leave her alone.

>>28260724
Seconding nice breakfast and chatting >>28260815

>>28260815

Seconded. Surely she'd like a good breakfast?

>>28260724
>> Make a nice breakfast for Mom. Talk to her.

We could just not go to school today.

>>28260887
>>28260879
>>28260854
>>28260815

> Aww, you people are sweet.

You hurry up to get the groceries, and hear Mom slump on the sofa as you sort out what needs freezing and what needs the fridge. The kitchen, if nowhere else, is your little kingdom; you like cooking, though you don't really like eating food that much. It's just the whole magic of things. Slap a bunch of cold, hard shit together, put it in a pan with heat, and BAM nice smelling stuff.

Well, unless you've been beaten up the day before. Then you do just feel like sticking a fucking Ready Meal in the fucking nuker. 'How're you, Stan? Could I just have a coffee please?'

'Don't worry about it, Mom,' you say, having an idea. The half a baguette you bought on offer from the local 'patisserie' is rock hard anyway, and the eggs will be going bad soon, so you soak one in the other and heat up the pan. Mom takes the coffee gratefully. 'Weather's terrible, isn't it?'

'Yeah, but business is great because of that. I'll have to be at Orinoco today at 5, until 3.'

Dear god. You shake your head while making the French toast, the air diffused with that lovely smell. Mom smiles when you put it down at the coffee table, and then you realise your little mistake. Cath used to like French toast. Heck, Cath would eat anything you made. She's the sort who eats and eats, and never gets fat.

Well, that was then.

> Cont'd.

>>28261005

Mom slowly forks a slice, her hand visibly trembling - from fatigue, cold or memory you don't know. She doesn't tend to talk a lot, not really.

'Do you know we've got new neighbours?' You ask, then realise it was a bit silly. Of course she does. She told Serena, didn't she? But Mom seems momentarily confused.

'Oh. Oh downstairs, you mean?'

'Yeah.'

'Have you seen them?'

'Serena baked a cake and I took it down. It's a man, and a girl.' The memory of her sniffing the cake, her grimace of curiosity of concern when you said you'd been beaten up, and the note - everything comes back to you again. You must have smiled at that.

'Oh? Is the girl going to your high school, then?'

'Huh. I... well, I suppose she is, yeah.' You almost forgot about that. Maybe you can skip school on Friday. Then again, the idea that maybe Elina would just get sucked into the crowd and cliques and become like everyone else is troubling. You know plenty of people you thought were cool - then they enter the campus, and become just like everyone else.

Everyone is just like everyone else. They're *in* the world. But you, you're always two steps outside. There's nothing you can do about that...

> Say something else. (Write-in)
> Prepare for school, go in very early.
> Skip classes anyway. Wait till Mom sleeps, then go get a slip.
> Other.

>>28261147

> Going to lunch, will be back in a bit. But do vote, of course.

>>28261147
> Say something else. (Write-in)
> Prepare for school, go in very early.
"Elina, that's the girl, can't have cake. Gluten allergy or something. But, I think they're Swedish. You know of any good Swedish dishes? I was thinking we could invite them for tea on your next day off? Sound nice to you?"
Then get ready for early school.

>>28260724

Voting for >>28261250
But I'm willing to bet she doesn't know any good Swedish dishes

Also, throw a piece of paper at our window like Elina (maybe?) did with the letter this morning before we go to school.

>>28261250
>>28261411

Silence reigns for two, three, five minutes as you continue eating. You think the toast isn't too bad, and thankfully Mom seems to think the same way too. After several minutes, she looks up.

'So that would be nice,' she says. 'If you have a schoolmate who comes from here. Another friend like your many others, eh?'

'Yeah, that'd be good.' You've been making things up occasionally, telling mom you're going somewhere with friends when you're really walking around alone, just so she doesn't worry and kick up a fuss. Or have another breakdown. But the result is that she simply has no idea what you're becoming, or really what you already are. 'Elina is Swedish, I think. Maybe we could invite them for tea the next time you get a day off?'

'Oh, I don't know when that would be,' she sighs. 'But that's a nice idea. Will you make something, then? Or, we could go to Ikea and get some of those pastries. Those are Swedish, no?'

You know what, that's a good idea. Well, at least the morning begins on an okay note. You get changed as your mom showers and prepares to sleep, then get out into the drizzle, where- wait a minute.

Going around to the deep pit under your window, you take a piece of paper, flat, and attempt to throw it at the windowsill. Once, twice - no, it simply won't work. Even when scrunched, it's really difficult.

But maybe you could write a message for Elina and throw it down to *her* window. That's not hard.

> Do so.
> Forget it.

> What would you do in school normally, Stan? When you're there early, and most people aren't around?

>>28261624
>> Forget it.

Why don't we just ask her if she's going to that school? If not we could take the day off.

>>28261624
> Do so.

Write a message asking Elina if she is going to our school. If she responds yes, then go to school, if she says she isn't, skip it.
If she doesn't give a response within 5 minutes, just go to school

>>28261624
>> Do so.

Tell her to come around some time and see what other food you can make for her to smell.

>>28261624
>>28261763
I'll second this.
>What would you do in school normally, Stan? When you're there early, and most people aren't around?
Goto library, read ahead on our English lit. assignments, maybe place useful recovery items in key locations so we don't have to cross the entire campus in the buff.

>>28261658
>>28261754
>>28261763

Well. Even if you threw the note, what would it do? You could just go down and ask her up front if she's going to- no, wait. She's just had a massive argument...

... right, let's not get sucked into other people's fights. It's not like you aren't in enough of them yourself. Tearing a page off your notebook, you scribble, leaning against a parapet.

'Elina. Are you going to school? Do you go to our school?

Also, why not come round some time? I'll make some other food you can smell.

Stan.'

Scrunching it into a ball, you throw it so it makes a nice *tap* on her window. If she's in her room, she'll hear it easily, and since she had an argument, she'd be in her room, right?

... wrong. You wait until you can see your bus coming down the road, but nothing happens, and the note just sits there in the rain. Damnit - at this rate, when she does pick it up, everything would be too smudged to read. Just as you're about to run for the bus, though, you hear something strange from that window.

Thump. *Thump*. Thump. Dull thing being dropped - or slammed - onto a soft surface.

'Fuck,' you mutter, glancing back twice as you run for the bus. It's not... it's not Kelvin paying her back for the yelling fit, is it?

> cont'd.

File: 1384325465658.jpg-(168 KB, 800x600, 7A Old high school buildi(...).jpg)

168 KB JPG

>>28261898

The bus trip and walk to Mackelmore takes just 15 minutes, and when you get there, practically no one else is. It's a pretty dismal place, really - a central yard, surrounded on three sides by red brick buildings, and then the sports grounds on the back.

A bit like a prison. Actually, not a bit - quite a damn lot.

Still, there are parts of it you do fancy, such as the library. Today is packed with boring lessons - Math, Physics with Mr. Mumbler, History with the Queen Bitch - but there's also English Literature, which is nice if only because the teacher's quite a bro.

Heading to the library, you pull out your lit text - Othello, by Shakespeare. It has to be said, you kind of like this play. You're not a black guy in a world full of racist white people, but you... you can see what it's like, somehow.

Only about 20 minutes in, however, you see the girl you wish were your Desdemona. Sofia and some of her friends saunter into the library, talking at normal volume and settling at the table next to yours. Her back is turned, but two of her friends catch you looking at her hair and give you dirty looks.

> Stare back.
> Look away.
> Get out.
> Other.

>>28262029
>> Get out.

>>28262029
>> Look away.
We might be able to overhear some gossip.

>>28262029
>> Look away

I would say stare back, but I like the listen for gossip idea.

>>28262191
>>28262126
>>28262074

Your initial instinct is to look down and then fuck off, but then something holds you from doing so. Maybe, maybe, if you can sit tight a little while, you can hear some gossip...

So instead you simply look back at Othello, making sure to scribble some notes, while keeping your ears peeled. You know that Sofia is very much desired by most of the other boys in school - and why should she not? But the lives they lead are almost completely alien to you, and perhaps because they know that, the friends have no problem talking about that while you're around.

For your efforts, you are rewarded with plenty of gossip about the weekend's plans - someone is holding a house party, someone is planning a big skip-class-go-smoke-and-club part on Friday. There's some talk of who's boning who, and some names you even recognise - Darren and Lisa? Is that the Lisa from dance? It must be, if it's Darren from basketball.

'Oh man, I would jump him if I could,' one of them says. 'Sof, didn't you-'

'Please. Darren?' Laughter.

And then you hear something mentioning Gerald, and freeze. He's one of the ringleaders of that group that focuses on tormenting you - and others, but often you. 'I think he's going to try something new on Freako over there.'

'Look, if you give it away-'

'Then what? Gerald *loves* Minnie. He wouldn't do anything.' Sof sounds almost like she's presiding over the conversation. She must know you're behind her as well, now...

This school is fucked up, man.

> Timeskip until recess and look around for Elina.
> Timeskip until recess, try to approach Sofia.
> Timeskip until recess, food as usual with good ol' Jeremy.
> Other.

>>28262272
>> Timeskip until recess and look around for Elina.
Then Jeremy if we don't see her.

>>28262272
>> Timeskip until recess and look around for Elina.

>>28262272
>Timeskip until recess, food as usual with good ol' Jeremy.
But keep eyes and ears wide open for Elina or Gerald. My hope is that they won't try anything with the big guy right there.

>>28262326
Seconding this

>>28262303
>>28262307
>>28262326

Class - what is there to say, even? Someone chucks a paper ball at your head during Maths class. The Mumbler mumbles his way through Physics, talking about sound waves and how they propagate.

'In a denser medium, sound can travel several times faster than in air...'

Someone repeats the words, softly and mockingly, and when the Mumbler turns around he points to you. Just like a crap teacher, when you can't recognise your students' voices. He gives you a glare and goes back to murmuring sweet nothings at the whiteboard.

From your place in the classroom, though, you are in a position to make a certain few observations and notes. Just now, in the library - what happened to Gina, one of Sof's best friends? She wasn't with that group. She's always with that group.

Also, there seems to be a certain tension with the teachers today, even the Mumbler, who looks absently worried. Something must have happened that affects the school at large. But there're no exams looming. Huh.

> cont'd.

>>28262433

The sky cleared for all of twenty minutes in the morning, but when brunchtime rolls around, it's again a uniform grey and sprinkling water all over the city. Fucking hell, when the weather's like this is almost feels like you're in a nuclear winter. Everything's dead. Everything's chilly. And cold, and you're the only one around.

Like Sweden. Sweden's chilly and cold, isn't it? Maybe not dead, but... you sigh when you trudge down, getting shoved this way and that by your classmates, and finally reach the cavernous space of the canteen.

Everything's dead - that would be quite nice. It wouldn't be very bad at all. Except today there's a little possible excitement... you walk slowly around, looking down each queue, occasionally getting stares from people. Everyone knows you as Freako these days, and you're not helping that reputation, but who cares?

Elina is not here, though. She's not queueing for food - you don't even try the bakery queue. She's not at the tables, where the classes each have their own kingdoms. She's not- oh there she is!

You go up and tap Elina on the shoulder, excitedly, but then blink when someone turns and glares at you. Pimples on her face, but seriously, what's with the foul expression? 'What do you want?'

'Oh. Nothing. Sorry.'

She's not here... so she's not in this school after all. Well, typical. Nothing good comes to Stanley, does it? You queue and get a sandwich, then sit down with Jeremy, who's easy to find. 'Sup, Stan? You look down.'

> What say to Jeremy, Stan?

>>28262530
Say we heard Gilbert is going to try "something new" to us

>>28262530
Tell him we were looking for a girl, our new neighbor called Elina, but after that brief explanation change the topic and see if he knows what's going on with the school and the staff being on edge. Mention the hens yesterday; maybe that's something to do with it?

>>28262530
"Nothing new: weather, ribs, mom. You know, usual stuff. Got anything planned later?"

>>28262573
>>28262583
>>28262613

'Eh? Nah, it's nothing. Was just looking for a girl.'

'Can't do that, mate, that's called attempted rape.' Jeremy bursts out laughing as you nudge him hard. 'But seriously, what girl?'

'I've got a new neighbour. Someone moved into the downstairs shithole, called Elina. And I figured she's in school too.'

'If she's just moved in, surely it'd take a short while at least? Maybe next week she'll start, that seems more likely.' Oh yeah, that does... kinda make sense. 'Did you hear about the case of that guy over in Mitham clubbing, though?'

'No...?' Mitham is just ten minutes away by bus. Used to be a shithole of a neighbourhood too, but cheap rents and a few cool guys, and suddenly it's one of the hipster capitals in the city. You don't go there a lot, but you hear it's changed dramatically even in the few months since you moved here. 'What happened?'

'Oh, a few of the footballers were there, clubbing, and someone moved on one of them with a knife. They chased him away but he got cut up a bit. So now the school knows there's people clubbing illegally.' Jeremy shrugs. You have to be blind, deaf, *and* very fucking stupid to think anyone isn't clubbing illegally at Mackelmore. But hey, teachers are teachers...

> Ask about Jeremy, in the meantime.
> Ask about the hens in the chicken coop.
> Ask about Gerald.
> Eat quietly, timeskip until after school. God, school is *boring*.
> Other.

>>28262772
>> Ask about Jeremy, in the meantime.

We should skip school early.

>>28262772
> Ask about the hens in the chicken coop.

There might be some insidious secret behind the chickens escaping.

>>28262772
>Jeremy, and then The CHICKENING.

>>28262828
>>28262825
>>28262804

'So how about you, meanwhile?'

'Hmm?' He sighs. 'Well, what's new? The world is round, I'm fat... but man, I've recently been reading vampire stories.'

Oh, dear. Jeremy's a pretty intelligent and bright dude, not to mention a general bro, but he does have his... let's be nice and call them preoccupations, every now and then. Not too long ago he was in a werewolf phase, and he actually saved up to buy a werewolf costume for some games convention. You went along, wearing t-shirt and jeans... and you probably had a much better time of it than he did.

A full body costume in 28 Celsius weather is pretty close to suicide, after all.

'So, vampires,' you mutter, but then something strikes you about the hens in the coop. 'Come think of it, did you know that the chickens they were rearing...'

'Oh yeah. All six of them disappeared without a trace.' Jeremy nods. 'They're still looking.'

'Reckon there's a vampire around? Or, less supernaturally, a serial killer?'

'What, of chickens?' Both of you laugh. 'Well, vampires don't normally take animal blood, do they? Just human. Otherwise it'd be a bit too ethically easy. Come think of it, didn't you say the basement apartment in your downstairs is a dark shithole with hardly any sunlight...?'

You see his implication coming from a mile off. Yes, of course. Kelvin, or Elina, are vampires. Of *course*...

> Play along, and then skip school. Not like anyone would know. Why do you ever bother going in anyway?!
> Tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageously boring lessons!
> Other.

>>28262772
> Hens
Cluck cluck.

Bring up the staff acting odd too. "You reckon that's anything to do with the hens?"

>>28263101
why would the staff be overly worried about six missing hens?

>>28263092
Ask Jeremy about Gilbert

>>28263092
>> Tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageously boring lessons!

Look for Jeremy after class so we don't get our ass kicked.

Actually I'll change my vote >>28263145 to >>28263145. The main priority is not getting another toilet bath and towel beating.

>>28263210
To >>28263180**

Let's skip class, guys. Why do we want to stay behind and suffer?

> Right, was away getting somewhere. Back now.
> Typing.

>>28263496
Because what if they follow us? I'd rather get lost in the crowd.

Plus we can always try to hide behind Jeremy

>>28263516

Also, while the vampire explanation is of course very cute and *highly* plausible, it wouldn't quite explain why the teachers are in a tizzle. You ask Jeremy if he's noticed it as well, and he thinks about it.

'Yeah, I kinda see what you mean. Maybe it's a school inspection or something? Those things are pretty bad, aren't they?'

Damn, maybe that's what it is. It's either that, or it's something that would be terrible for school PR, such as an accident involving the kids. Oh. So if it isn't the chickens, it'd have to be those guys going clubbing, then...

Well. If it's that, then you have nothing to worry about. It's not your problem, as the great philosopher Plato said. Jeremy prattles on a bit about vampires and their habits, and you obligingly listen...

'I've always wondered, though,' he said. 'They can't see direct sunlight, right? So what if it's cloudy?'

You make a joking note that you'll go check on your neighbours later today, if it remains rainy, just for SCIENCE.

> cont'd.

>>28263586

The only bright spot in the afternoon classes, of course, is the English lit class. Mr. Lewis, as usual, is animated, though the class seems to become even more bored in response. You end up answering a few questions here and there, which only makes the whispers of 'Freako!' and 'Nigger-reader!' louder.

Do these people using that word even know what it means? There's hardly any black people around in the city after all. Also, Othello is pretty much Arab... you use those thoughts to try and shut them out.

Chemistry comes and goes, and finally it's time to leave. You know what you need to do, of course. If you're with Jeremy, sometimes Gerald and the bunch come after you anyway, but you have a bit of safety at least. A shot at getting out unscathed... you slip out of class, avoiding the shortcut which goes past Gerald's class, and go downstairs.

> Roll d100.

>>28263710
dice+1d100

Rolled 75

>>28263710

Rolled 3

>>28263710

Rolled 41

>>28263710

Rolled 85

>>28263710

>>28263765
>>28263750

> 85, 75: success!

Going downstairs, you turn and spot - oh fuck, it's Andrew, Gerald's sidekick, waiting right there. Reflexively, you hide behind a girl who gives you a disgusted glance, but then quickly leave her cover and dash down a walkway before dodging into a classroom to avoid Gerald himself, turning round the corner.

'Hey, what are you doing?' You glance round to see a guy packing his bags, one of the last to leave his class, and shrug before walking to the other door, emerging behind Gerald... and in front of Jeremy.

'Hey, St-'

'Shhh!' You gesture behind you, and Jeremy sees. He quickly guides you down the stairs to the foot exit, crammed with students leaving, and a minute later you're safely out of campus. 'Oh man. Thanks, mate, I-'

'Oh bus is here!' Jeremy points and begins running. 'Yeah, sure, cheers, bye!'

You wave at him, then realise you're still within range of the campus and could be taken back in by them at any time. Quickly as you can, you walk across the overpass and get to your own bus stop, also crammed with people...

... and you spot Lynnette among them. She's the class monitor, and one of the few girls who is neutral or a little better towards you. She's standing alone, as usual, staring into space, seemingly unheeding of the raindrops falling on her.

> Go talk to Lynette.
> Heck, just get home. (What do when you're home?)
> Other. God, school is boring when you're not in a clique. Then again, is drinking and fucking really all that life is for...?

>>28263882
>> Heck, just get home. (What do when you're home?)

Talk to Elaine. Go on your computer.

>>28263905
*Elina. Damn auto correct.

>>28263882
>> Go talk to Lynette.
She might know something about what happened to the missing chickens.

>>28263905

Second this.

Also check if the note we threw is still there. Maybe Elina took it?

>>28263882
>Go talk to Lynette.
"You know it's raining, right?
Shoot the shit untill ghe bus comes.

>>28263961
It's like Blade runner - it's always raining

>>28263905
>>28263934
>>28263952
>>28263961
>>28263966

> It's always raining. And the storm is always about to come.

You sidle over to Lynette, who notices you quickly. 'You know it's raining, right?'

'There's no space,' she gestures at the bus stop. Well, she's right. It's a cauldron of noise and the smell of sweat and people yakking and yakking and yakking. How do people find so much to talk about? In cruelty, probably. In keeping people out, or in seeing them suffer. There's a lot to talk about when you have the power to make people suffer. You think so, anyway. 'You?'

'It's noisy.' You shrug. 'Do you know what happened to the missing chickens?'

'Oh I heard of that,' she says. 'It's... I think they were stolen. Sara said there were feathers all over.'

Oh yes, that girl you saw yesterday searching - that's Sara. 'Huh. Who would do that?'

'If you want meat a lot, I guess? But anyway, there's plenty other problems. Like that guy who nearly got knifed, you know? Also, last night there was a stabbing near my place. Guy got away but died in hospital.'

'Welcome to M&M,' you shrug again. The precinct in the city with the third highest youth murder rate in the country - Mackelmore and Mitham. And you're in it. Whoopdefuckingdoo. 'Oh, my bus is here...'

Getting back from the bus stop, you stop by the hole and look down. Huh! The scrunched up note is gone; Elina must have taken it. Perhaps she's in school now, or perhaps... you go back to put down your backpack, and wonder.

Maybe she's at home. You keep very still, trying to listen for any sounds from downstairs. But there's nothing. Dead calm. Upstairs, though, there's music and singing, which is annoying.

Mum, meanwhile, seems to have gone off to work earlier still. These days will be busy, she said, after all...

> Shower, relax.
> Read something, take a nap.
> Go down and see if Elina's there. Kelvin is unfriendly, though...
> Do something else at home. Maybe clean up.
> Other.

>>28264114
>> Shower, relax.

>>28264114
>> Shower, relax.

>>28264114
> Go down and see if Elina's there. Kelvin is unfriendly, though...

>>28264148
>>28264181

Ah, there's nothing like a warm shower. And it's true in this flat - with the water heater taking so long to work, there really is nothing like a warm shower now, and there won't be for a long time.

Fuck it. At least your clothes are clean today, so you hang them up and get the rest of your laundry in order, before jumping in and doing what you can. The water is *cold*. Everything shrinks, and you mutter and swear while scrubbing yourself quickly, all your muscles tensing up - including your chest, which seems to creak painfully when you gasp at the water. Elina seems to be right - you might have really suffered some damage there.

A quick rub-down with soap, another spell shivering and wincing as the cold water tightens up everything it touches, and then you wipe down and bound out. How is it that the water always ends up colder than room temperature? This isn't even a Swedish winter or something!

> cont'd.

>>28264371

You're thinking a lot about Scandinavia today, for some reason, Stan. You pathetic crush-haver, you tell yourself, sitting at the laptop. The news... the news has more news on that dismembered person, who turns out to be a man living in the outskirts of the city, and when it notes that this is the 5th such case over the last 6 years, you again feel the coldness tensing you up - except this one is inside, and wrenches at all of your organs, telling you not to scroll down.

... you scroll down. Oh god. Catherine is there. As a dismembered foot, belonging to a teenage girl. That's all there is. Suddenly you remember to breathe again, and take a deep gasp as if surfacing from an ice bath.

In other news, there's been a massive typhoon in Asia, earthquakes in the Middle East, floods in Germany and Poland. You read them, just to calm down a little from seeing your sister as a footnote in some murderous history, when you hear someone knock at the door. Huh? There's a doorbell, man...

You walk over to open the door and pause.

It's Elina. And she has... a plate... of something, wrapped in paper, in her hands.

'Hey,' she says, liltingly.

> What... do/say to Elina?

>>28264389
Say hello. Ask if she wants to come in.

>>28264441
Seconded

>>28264389

'Hey. You got the note, then? What's that?'

>>28264389
"Oh, hi, missed you earlier. At school I mean, didn't see you there. Not like I was missing you like a relative that's gone or something. What's that? Smells like... well, paper, I guess, can't smell it myself. I'm rambling, come in, come in."
> Spagetti intensifies.

>>28264482
Seconding this

>>28264512
>>28264482
>>28264464
>>28264441
>>28264532

> Oh, you guys.

'Um, uh... hey,' you manage to get that out at least.

'Good afternoon,' Elina says, as if talking to a teacher or an adult.

'So, well, I suppose I missed you earlier. I mean, at school. Were you at school? Because I was, well, of course I was, but then I didn't see you so I don't know-'

'Stop,' she whispers, again, a breezelike command which you obey. Again. But this time she doesn't give an answer, and a moment later you continue, the words tumbling out. It's... it's actually nice to have someone to be an utter dweeb in front of, even if she's just staring at you with those honey-coloured eyes...

'Yeah, sorry. I'm rambling. So what's that you got there? Did you get my note, I'm guessing you did? Is this for me to smell?' You chuckle, and Elina doesn't. She looks at you like you're slightly mad. You probably are. 'It, uh... it smells like paper. I'm terrible at smelling things. But I don't smell, at least, eh-'

'Stop. Once more. May I come in?'

Oh you *dumbfuck*, Stan! 'Oh, yeah sure. Come in! Of course. Come in.'

You close the door behind her, then realise that the laundry pile is right there on the couch, including your briefs. Fuck. Elina glances at it, then goes to the kitchen and puts the plate down.

'I don't go to school.' Pause. 'Is it nice? Do you like it?'

Then, when you come close, she pulls the paper away deftly. Oh look, it's cakes shaped like steak! Wait, no. It *is* steak. You blink, leaning close, looking at the marbling, the snowflakes of fat in the muscle.

... this is *good* steak. The sort you've never eaten before. 'Beef,' she says. 'You said you can cook.'

> What do/say, Stan?

>>28264637
Cook that steak.

>>28264637
Cook it real good.

>>28264637
Admire steak a little and then fire up the grill, ask her how she wants her steak cooked.

While cooking ask her what she meant by 'I don't go to school'.
Homeschooled?

>>28264779

Second this. Does Kelvin teach her, then?

>>28264787
>>28264779
>>28264740
>>28264732

You stare at the pink flesh a little more, then look at Elina. Isn't it a little strange that all mammals, including you, and her, will look like that if butchered and sliced? Or perhaps even *worse* than that? You're all just slabs of animated meat, is what it is.

More to the point, how did she get this? This is expensive stuff. She's living in a basement flat. So if she's living there by choice...

Jeremy's little obsession flashes in your mind now. She can't eat cake because... because she drinks blood? ANYWAY. 'This is... really good steak. I don't know if I'm good at cooking it.'

'It's fine.'

'No man, it's not. It'd be a waste. How do you like your steak?'

'This one,' Elina points at the smaller piece. 'The other one's yours.'

'No I mean, how do you like it?' What, she eats steaks and doesn't know... you take out your pepper and fire up the cheap cast-iron skillet. Damn thing's heavy. 'like... medium? Rare? Not well done I hope.'

'Oh. Uh...' Elina looks confused, her eyes glimmering. 'Which... is the rawest?'

'What, blue?' You chuckle, feeling the temperature. 'Seriously?'

'Blue's good.' Girl's adventurous, she is... 'don't rub anything on mine. I don't like spice.'

> Roll d100 to not fuck up steak.

>>28264637
>>28264779
Thirding, and also ask if she wants anything else with it. Like carrots.
Inb4 she can't eat the steak.

Rolled 11

>>28264877

Rolled 2

>>28264877
Not even salt&pepper?

Rolled 77

>>28264877

>>28264878
I bet you she can't eat the carrots

Rolled 89

>>28264877
Oh god. We're gonna mess it up aren't we?

>>28264877
Inspect steak and see it resembles any possible part of a human body

>>28264779
>>28264787

> One or two more posts and I'm done for today.
> If the thread is still up tomorrow, I'll continue. If not it's either tomorrow nonetheless, or Friday. Thanks for playing.

As you separate the two steaks and rub some pepper on yours, Elina begins to walk around a little, looking at the kitchen behind you.

'So what do you mean, you don't go to school? Like, I don't mean to pry, but is it like... are you homeschooled?'

'Homeschooled?' You see her looking at the toaster, inspecting it. 'Oh. Yeah.'

'Kelvin teaches you stuff? Really?' Kelvin doesn't strike you as much of a teacher... of anything at all. 'I mean, so do you stay home all the time, then?'

'Well, I don't-' she pauses and turns around, not leaning against the counter. When she speaks again, her voice has hardened somewhat, sounding a little like she's on the way to screaming in Swedish at you. 'Why do you keep asking?'

'Eh? No, I... I'm just asking. Sorry. I don't mean to pry. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to.' You can hear your heart racing, trying to defuse a situation that could lead to a beating, could lead to you being locked in a closet, could lead to this or that or- wait, wait, CALM THE FUCK DOWN.

Elina's walking away now. 'I'm sorry,' you say again.

'It's okay.' She sits down. 'Is school nice? Do you like me to go to school? Where is your school?'

> What do/say?
> I'll collate this with the dice rolls into one post.

>>28264948
>> What do/say?
Tell her that school sucks. Which is true.

>>28264948
Tell her school sucks except for English literature

Rolled 53

>>28264948
"Honestly? It sucks, and I'd rather not go there myself. I guess you being around might make it a bit.. less unpleasant? It's Macklemore High, on x_ street."

Still there OP?

>>28265700
>>28265106
>>28265042
>>28265020

> Sorry. Internet borked while I was at the library.
> Reading and typing now.

>>28265700
>>28265106
>>28265042
>>28265020

> 89: Huh, nicely done steakmeister.

'My school? It's Mackelmore. Over at Cedar Lane, off the high street.'

'Never heard of it...'

You're making your steak first, and as it sizzles you turn to see Elina now standing in the middle of your tiny hall, looking around - at the TV, the remote, the couch, the coffee table. It's almost as if she's trying to burn the details of the living room into her mind or something.

'It's a good thing you never. It's a shit place.' She has a strange, slightly loping gait as she walks. 'Teachers are shit, the place is awful. People just gossiping about each other all the time. And then, as you know, there are the people beating other people up.'

'Do a lot of people get beaten up?'

'I suppose- give me a minute.' You know how to do this. You must know. Keep cool, Stan. Flipping it over, you wait a short while, then take the skillet off the heat into the oven to finish. Medium will take no time at all. 'Anyway, yeah. I suppose quite a few do. Everyone bullies people though, just in different ways. If you don't hit them, you talk shit about them. There was a case of someone last year who hanged himself in the classroom-'

Why did you mention that? You freeze, realising how loose your tongue has become while you were relaxed and rambling. Just then, you feel a hand on your upper arm. OH FUCK NO DON'T HIT ME-

You flinch violently while turning around, but Elina doesn't let go, and you look at the hand then at her. She looks a little curious. 'Who do you bully then?'

'What? Me? No one.'

'Why not?'

The oven beeps. You want to move, but Elina's holding you.

> Shake her off. Medium steak, bitch!!
> Answer her. (Write in)
> Other.

>>28266096
>Answer her.
I have enough enemies as it is.

>>28266096
>>Answer her
"I don't know, it just kind of ended up that way"
*shuffle feet uncomfortably before changing the topic*
"Now who wants some steak!"

>>28266220
>>28266184

> Showering. Will be back in almost no time at all.
> More suggestions always welcome!

>>28266096
> Answer her.
"Dunno, never really understood the how or why of it. That, and I guess someone has to be at the bottom of the shit-heap. The meat's burning."

>>28266184
>>28266220

'Look, that's my steak-'

'Answer me.' The drop in pitch as she says 'me' is enough to make your hairs stand on end. 'Why?'

You look back into her eyes, whose light have now darkened somewhat, and a strange cloud of frustration settles over you all of a sudden. The steak is burning, and you're getting bullied, and nothing's good, and everyone who's been nice to you suffers, and- 'I don't know. I don't know, okay!' You raise your voice without even meaning to, and with a newfound strength, you shake her arm off. 'I don't know. I just know I have enough enemies as is. I don't know how it got to be like that,' you take out the skillet, plop the steak onto your plate. 'I don't know. It just got to be. Maybe I'm life's butt-monkey, that's just what it is, right?'

'Life's butt monkey?' Elina repeats, slowly, and in that moment the idiocy of what you did comes to you. Damn. Here's someone who's so nice to you and you're snapping at *her*, of all people. Shifting your feet a little, you laugh to release the tension a little.

'Well. I'll get on to your steak, eh? Doesn't even need the stove...'

Elina says nothing, wanders over to your dining table as you plop her steak on. The time it takes to piss - that's how long you'll let it sear. This thing is going to be pretty much alive when she eats it... 'Do you want any carrots or veg?'

'I'm fine.' You can hear her cleaning your table. Then she reappears to get the knives, just as you plop the seared steak on the plate. 'Is that mine?'

'Mm.'

'Smells really good.'

And for the first time, you see Elina smile - briefly, but sweetly, like a little girl given a candy.

> What do you talk about over... tea, Stan?

>>28266365
Good idea, offer her a drink, at least four options. Then ask after her friends, if any, etc. Reply in kind with kind words about our bro, and neutral words about the class monitor. Basically, try to small talk.

>>28266365
Also, mention how great the steak was.

>>28266416

Agree with small talk, friends. Maybe ask why she moved here as well.

Ask if the steak is okay.

>>28266416
>>28266425
>>28266448

> Last post for this evening. I'll continue tmr if it's around. Thanks for playing!
> Again, questions etc. welcome.

Elina's cleaned the table thoroughly with a tablecloth, and set everything out - a little too formally, you'd say. Forks to one side, knives to another. 'I couldn't find any napkins. Do you-'

'No, it's fine. We haven't napkins.' That's a pretty ridiculous question - look around the house, seriously - but, well, you already knew she's a little weird. Thankfully your steak is still on the far side of medium, and it smells amazing; but even more amazing is what happens when you cut into it, the juices almost spraying off the plate. Right. No wonder napkins were useful.

'Oh wait,' you mutter, dashing to the fridge. 'Sorry, I forgot - do you want something to drink? I've got, uh, coffee, there's apple juice, and... tea. And water.'

'Water is good. Thank you.'

> cont'd.

>>28266557

Water for the lady, and apple juice for the gentleman. Heh. You continue to be amazed at the juices flowing out, and when you take a bite - oh dear *god*, this is heaven. The thing practically melts once you prod it with your teeth, falling apart, flavour bursting all over your mouth. You close your eyes, swallowing the mouthful of meat fluids, and let out a 'mmmm' that might have sounded more like a 'grrrr'. 'Man. This is so good. So, so good.'

'Is it?' Elina, on the other hand, looks like she's trying to pare off even the few seared bits, to reveal just the gelatinous, pink flesh underneath. Even her frown is quite cute as she's concentrating.

'Yeah. So... why did you move here? Do you know anyone around in this part of town?'

'Rent is cheap... and the place is nice.' Wow, they sure set the bar pretty damn low. 'I don't know anyone here. And you?'

You tell her, in your usual rambling way, about Jeremy, and then wonder if you should add on any fictitious friends like with Mom. In the end you decide against it. 'Well, he's the main good friend. I know a few others, but then he's the main one.'

'Mm. One's enough, for friends.'

Uh. That's an odd thing to say. You look at her steak - she's pared it down into a smaller version of the original raw steak, basically negating your work. Now it wriggles and struggles across the plate as she attempts to cut it, and it's only with effort that she cuts a strip off and eats it. Still, she looks distinctly unimpressed.

'It's good,' she says, softly. She doesn't look like it was. She watches you eat another two chunks, looking a little envious - though probably at your pleasure, rather than the steak. 'Stan?'

'Hmm?'

'Do you like... weird people? Do you mind if they're weird? Really weird?'

> What say to that, Stan?

>>28266590
Would be pretty silly if I did, beggar's cannot be choosers

>>28266590
"I spent a great weekend walking around with a guy dressed like a wolf. Meanwhile, some normal guys cracked my ribs. In my book, weird is good."

Thanks for running, OP.

>>28266590

I don't care how weird somebody is, as long as they're nice to talk to. Most people think I'm weird anyways.

>>28266700
>>28266648
>>28266634

Thanks for playing!

I'll be running this tomorrow, or Friday.

>>28266700

Second this.

Beyond caring about weirdness now. You're cool with me, I'm cool with you.

>>28266700
Agree with this, when half the school calls you 'freako' already the meaning of weird just loses its meaning