Two Batty Kids :: Me and Polo

So. Here is the post. I actually have a lot of homework, so I will post a character description tomorrow or something.

Name: Orion Deverell

Age: 21

Appearance: Orion has black hair, with one dramatic green streak slashing through his long fringe. It is dead straight, and reaches just past his jaw in length, fluffing out to cover his ears in a spiky fashion. His fringe sweeps sideways across his forehead, often covering one eye. His eyes are a brilliant shade of green, toxic and enticing, but since he seldom looks anyone in the eye, this doesn’t matter much. He has a hard, set jaw and handsome high cheekbones. He has several piercings, one at the top of each ear, one on his eyebrow, and two on his lower lip. He is tall and well-muscled from years of workouts - he finds that exercise helps him unwind, which he needs to do startlingly often - and overall, he's a strikingly handsome guy – but still not the type that most people are keen to get involved with.
He’s hardly ever seen without his favourite black hoodie, even in hot weather, and he usually keeps the hood up. Most of the time he wears shades, not so much for the sun as to avoid looking people in the eye (they tend to stare and ask awkward questions about colour contacts when they see the remarkable green shade), and he spends most of his time with his hands shoved into the pockets of his tattered black jeans. His clothes always seem to be adorned with studs and chains, and it’s not rare to see him with a studded leather band around his wrist or neck.

Personality: Nobody really knows much about Orion. He keeps himself to himself, and for good reason. He’s quiet and somewhat antisocial – perhaps even a little intimidating, at least at first glance, and never really bothers to interact with anybody. Overall, he seems rather the grim and broody type. When he’s drawing, however, he seems to act quite differently. He shows a rare sense of content, and sometimes seems almost accessible without the dark cloud forever lingering over his shoulder

Other: Orion wasn’t always the ‘dark’ character he is now; when he was younger, he was actually quite the social butterfly – always chirpy, happy and bubbly – but if something happened to make him change his ways, then he certainly doesn’t speak of it.

After being abandoned at birth, Orion grew up in an orphanage, and though the place could afford no education, he took every opportunity to borrow books from the local library. Thus, when a prestigious highschool in the area allowed the orphans an opportunity to write their entrance exams, Orion managed to produce a shocking sweep of one hundred percent in every subject, once and for all proving his genius at the young age of thirteen. This was what attracted the wealthy businessman, Mr. Han Chang. After noticing his talent, Chang decided to adopt Orion, thus adding him to his 'collection' of human orphans that he was sculpting into gems of society, forcing each to flourish in their respective field so his name could grow far and wide.
His wife, Lucy Chang, had been a kind and nurturing woman, and at first, Orion managed to find some happiness in the home, even despite the atrocity that was Mr. Chang.  Unfortunately, Lucy passed away just before Orion graduated from highschool, and by the time he had to leave for college, he had a black spot in his heart reserved solely for the man who had sent him there - and a black eye to match.


((There's my character. If you get a chance, will you please start? ))

James Doran
Twenty one years old.
He has straight golden brown hair that falls in front of his eyes and to the bottom of his neck. He carries himself with an air of arrogance, which is only accentuated by the fact that he only ever wears polo shirts and khaki pants. He looks every inch the son of a wealthy CEO who owns a lakehouse, two yachts, and six cars. James stands fairly tall, at a height of 6'2. His arms have only a minimum of slim muscle, as he doesn't get a lot of physical activity. His complexion is light tan, with a dusting a freckles sprinkled over his arms, chest, and face. His eyes are light hazel with flecks of gold.
James is majoring in medical sciences and minoring in musical composition. He is very passionate about classical and orchestral music, but he has a shy liking of electronic dance music. He can play flute, guitar, and a smattering of trumpet, but his real talent lies in the piano. He is a musical genius as well. Where words stumble over themselves when he tries to speak, melodies come out clearly. He finds that it's easier to express emotions through chords and rhythms than language. He has already made some money by composing solos and duets for various instruments, and even arranged a woodwind quartet once. His main goal that he's working towards is to compose a full piece for a band.
James is the oldest child in his family. He has two younger sisters, Tess and Lucy, and an old golden retriever named Tate. He doesn't particularly care for Tess; she's sixteen and shameless, and whenever he visits home, he hears tales about her latest scandal. He finds her choice of clothing - or rather her lack of it- distasteful. Whenever he visits home, he prefers to spend his time with Lucy. The eight year old is strikingly similar to him. She shares his natural inclination to music and his passion for math and science, although she is much better at English than he is. His parents are the epitome of the ideal couple. His father, also named James, is the CEO of a very successful school supplies company. The extra money always his mother, Elle, to stay at home and care for the kids.
James was usually considered a nerd in high school and unpopular, until he threw a party one day when he was a junior. His parents were on vacation, and his sisters at friends' houses. He finally got laid at this party - his first and only time since - and got drunk for the first time ever. It was great. However, he fell in with the wrong crowd after this, and although he didn't get sucked in too deep, he developed a small drinking problem. There was never a shortage of beer in the house, so he never had any problems with withdrawal in high school. In college, he bought from the upperclassmen, and now that he is twenty one, he can buy it for himself. He never gets completely and utterly tanked, but drinks at least a few times a week.
The first two years of university were good for James; now that he had gotten his general education classes out of the way, he was excited to take courses he actually wanted to take. All music and art and science. It was going to be fantastic.
James likes girls a lot, even though he hasn't been with one since the drunk blonde at his party. He knows that he's straight. Except for sometimes when he notices a particularly attractive male across the campus. Since he doesn't want to admit it, he overcompensates on the other end; he's a bit of a homophobe, and although he really isn't mean to any gays, he'll probably succumb to peer pressure if he's with a group of friends that are picking on one.

James grunted as the box of clothes fell from his arms just inside the doorway to his dorm. As a senior, he was finally allowed to keep a car on campus, and so he drove himself here from home. That meant this was his first time moving in without help from anyone else.
With a sigh, he kicked the box to the corner of the room that he'd already claimed as his. Another perk of being a senior - they only had to share their dorms with one other person, and they finally got the good dorms. The room was twice as big as the one he had last year, although that wasn't saying much. That was barely more than a closet. In fact, his closet back at home was bigger than that room. But it was no matter; he and his roommate Kevin had had nearly opposite schedules. James left early every day to get to the music hall and work on his compositions before his music classes. Then in the afternoon, he went over to the science building, and then the lecture halls for gen ed. By the time he got back at about three, Kevin would be gone. His classes were all in the afternoon, and he worked nights at the campus diner, so when he would arrive home after his shift, James would already be asleep. Kevin wasn't the kind of person James would normally get along with, but they saw so little of each other that it made no matter.
This dorm room was much better, though. Instead of a bunk bed, they had two lofts, raised up to accommodate for storage underneath. James had selected the right half of the room. Also included were two small desks with lamps, a tiny bathroom that was joined with the next room, a chest of drawers, and a microwave. He made a note to himself to pick up microwave macaroni at the grocery store to stock the room. He sensed a lot of late night medical papers in his future, and macaroni would be lifesaving.
James leaned down and picked up the box, arms straining against the weight, wondering if he had placed rocks in there instead of books. He dropped it down on his desk and began unpacking, pulling out some polo shirts and some of his textbooks. The top two drawers were his, he decided as he placed his folded shirts inside. His roommate could have the other two.
He left the box on the desk and grabbed his car keys, heading back out to the white sports car that was parked out front. He absently thought about his roommate; hopefully it wouldn't be Kevin again, he thought with a dry smile.

[[Sucky post is sucky but hopefully you can enjoy it because you're so excited about roleplaying with me again whoop.]]

((I enjoyed it an indecent amount, thank you. XD ))

It was the fourth year at university, and the final one before Orion made his medical school debut. So far, the work had been easy. He enjoyed lectures, so he attended them, but when it came to exam time, he never failed to present a paper with perfect work, yet an entirely contradictory answer. If the aim of this spiteful art of coasting by on the arm of failure was to drive his foster father, Mr. Chang, into an early grave, then it certainly hadn't worked. But then again, it was a long term project, and judging by his red face, raised veins and flying spittle when Orion had seen him over the holidays, his cholesterol simply had to be rising.
He snorted at the thought, and revved his Honda EV06 bike faster as the light above him turned orange. The engine roared as the vehicle shot forward, and he leaned into the turn as he swung it to the right, speeding ever closer to his University.
Minutes later, he arrived, the Honda's powerful engine sputtering as he eased it into a bay, and shut off the engine. He had arrived late - it was already getting dark out - so there was nobody around to see his arrival, and that suited him just fine. Swinging his stiff leg wearily over the saddle, he dismounted from the motorcycle, and removed his helmet, scratching at his flattened hair. His handsome face displayed evidence of his latest fight with Mr. Chang, from ugly bruises around his eyes to a nasty split on his right cheekbone. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of pummeling his jackass of a foster father - which he still maintained he was - but it was rather that if he ever so much as laid a hand on Han Chang, he knew with absolute certainty that he would be locked up for life before he could so much as draw his fist back.
Huffing at the thought, he lodged his shades roughly onto his face, ignoring the pain from his bruises, and tossed up his hood. Then, hauling his luggage out of the storage compartment on his bike - coming from such humble beginnings, he never needed much - he hefted his bag over his shoulder, and trudged up the wide stone stairs to the university entrance.

A few minutes of cursing his crummy printed map later (No matter how much time he spent at the university, he could just never seem to get his head around it), Orion finally found his new room, and knocked briefly on the door before entering. No doubt, his new roommate was already inside.
And, sure enough, when he entered the room, he saw a tall figure lying on the bed - he'd laid claim to the right one, it seemed - and reading a medical journal. Orion sighed at the sight of it, and didn't bother introducing himself as he tossed his bag onto the empty bed on the left. He wasn't good with people, and if he never exchanged a single word with his roommate, then that was just fine with him.
With his back to the other man, he unzipped his bag, pulling out a few pairs of tattered jeans and faded band shirts, then walked over to the chest of drawers. After finding the first two full, he shoved his things into one of the lower ones, then straightened up, scratching absently at the green streak in his hair. After a moment's pause he turned around, and as he did, he caught a glimpse of his roommate's face, watching him from across the room.
In an instant, Orion froze.
He looks just like him! He thought, suddenly lightheaded as a powerful rush of reality crashed coldly over him, dragging his mind back to somebody who was never far from it. He looks like Luke...
Orion swallowed quickly, clenching his jaw against the welling emotion in his throat that only Luke could bring. Then, like a robot on standby, he suddenly powered up - realizing a moment too late that he'd been staring. Not for the first time, he was grateful for the shades hiding his face. He didn't even care that he looked like a total douche wearing them indoors.
"You must be my roommate." He tried, clearing his throat awkwardly and taking a step toward the brown-haired boy on the bed. "Sorry, I didn't notice you," He lied, "I'm Orion." He held out his hand, and added robotically, "Nice to meet you."
He didn't mean it, but the social protocols that Mr. Chang had drilled into him came in handy at times. It helped to put forward a halfhearted farce of normality, if only to save himself from future awkwardness. Perhaps it was not quite as convenient as ignoring this man's existence entirely, but it would do.


( Click -> Bike  Except it would be a black one, obviously. )

((Well. That sucked. But likewise, you'd better enjoy it just because I'm awesome and stuff. ))

James had finished bringing his things into the room. He stored his flute and his trumpet in the top drawer in the chest. His guitar and keyboard were kept under the bed. When his roommate failed to arrive as the hours passed, he had pulled the latter out and played a few chords, sketched the few notes in his notebook, and pulled out a medical journal. It was ponderous reading at best, and at the moment it was boring. It was required reading, and he had already gone through the text twice, but it was always good to read it again And since he had nothing better to do, read it again he did.
When his roommate finally walked in the door, James found himself unpleasantly surprised. He seemed to be the kind of scum he would never have dreamed of associating himself with. Tattered black jeans, a black hoodie, chains, and green hair. Even sunglasses. Inside. At night. What a jerk.
Plus the guy was making a point of ignoring him as he went through all the drawers and stuff. He finally pulled out his few belongings and stowed them in the other drawers. James watched him haughtily with narrowed eyes, judging him intently. He was just thinking about excuses to ask to change rooms when the man finally turned around, caught sight of the blonde lying on the bed, and caught his breath in his throat. His eyes widened a little in surprise. James arched an eyebrow with a condescending glance as his roommate quickly composed himself.
"I'm Orion. Nice to meet you."
He closed the distance between the two of them, hand outstretched. James shook it, halfheartedly attempting to hide his distaste. All of his thoughts about the dorm being big had vanished; it seemed no room with this Orion kid in it would be large enough for him to stay a proper distance away.
"James. Nice to meet you as well." He was nothing if not courteous.
As Orion moved away, the man swung his legs over the bed and pulled out his bag from under the bed with a sigh and grabbed a can of beer. Usually drinking wasn't allowed in the dorms, but he felt that he wouldn't be able to handle the rest of the night completely sober. A nice little buzz would serve him well. He popped the top with a quick flick of his thumb and took a large swallow, the alcohol burning slightly down his throat. It felt nice. If only he could burn away his roommate in a similar way.
"What is your schedule like?" James asked after some period of silence. He was hoping that the guy was like Kevin and that they'd never see each other. "I have classes Monday through Friday and I'll be at those from about nine to two."
As he waited for an answer, he marked his page in the journal and set it on the desk, picking up his music notebook in its place. He already had the beginnings of a tune worked out. It would be an angry piece, played with rough hands and dissonant chords on the piano. He was thinking of titling it "My Roommate Walked In" but thought that would be mean. Especially if he ever became world famous and Orion found out that it was about him. A small part of James felt that Orion should be pleased if that happened; after all, not many people have pieces composed about them by such prominent figures. However, he knew better than to seriously think that.
He quickly flipped to a new page, drew a treble clef, the key, and the time signature, and began plotting down his first few notes.

[[I enjoyed your response, do not fear, and oh man, I am seriously enjoying this.]]

((Me too, and it's barely even started. XD Haha! ))

"James." The other man answered, sounding no more pleased than he was about the introduction, "Nice to meet you as well."
Orion nodded politely at the lie, then turned away back to his side of the room, content to go on pretending that James didn't exist until the end of the year. Sitting himself down heavily on his bed, Orion began unlacing his heavy black boots. He had just started trying to kick the first one off when James suddenly asked him, "What is your schedule like?"
"My schedule?" He repeated stupidly, starting to claw off his second boot.
"I have classes Monday through Friday and I'll be at those from about nine to two."
"I dunno my schedule." Orion yawned, and stretched his arms over his head, "I figured I'd work it out on the job. I'm doing medicine and art." He wrinkled his nose, as though the very word 'medicine' came with its own putrid scent.
Looking back at James, Orion noticed a different notebook in his hands, and a closer glance showed the boy jotting down a series of music notes inside. He watched for a while, trying to imagine how the piece would sound if it was played. He soon reached the conclusion that, if James had just sucked all that out of his thumb, he probably had some sort of talent in the musical field.
"You play?" He grunted briefly, curiosity overcoming his social anxiety, but not enough to make him sound any more civilized than a moderately smart caveman.
He stood as he waited for his response, dragging off his hoodie and tossing it on the end of his bed, then starting to search his drawers for some pajamas. It was late, and he was tired. He had been traveling most of the day, after all.

[[I seriously miss RPing, I think I'll stick around.]]

Medicine and art, damn him to hell. They probably had similar classes, which meant running into each other often and being in the room at the same time. James tried to cover him groan of dismay, turning it into an obviously fake cough at the last second.
The next few moments were spent in a strange silence, James fingering a few notes quietly by his side on the mattress. This piece was going to be a bitch, that much was obvious. It was hard for him to get down on paper without being able to listen to the notes - there was so much wrong with it. All of the sharps and flats and accidentals. None of the chords made sense. This was going to be magnificent if he finished it, he realized, but it was not going to be pretty.
"You play?
The man bit back a sarcastic response. No, he was tempted to say. I'm just pulling random notes out of my arse.
But he didn't. "Depends which instrument you're asking about." He answered with a shrug. "Piano, yes. Guitar, yes. Flute, yes. Trumpet, depends on the day. Any other instrument, no, but if I have it for long enough I'll learn how."
Glancing back at his sheet of music, his fingers ached to play the beginnings of it, but for once he felt a little shy about his musical abilities. Well, not that per se. But just pulling out his keyboard and playing would seem very show-offish, something a real dick would do. And yeah, James knew he was a dick, but he liked to think others didn't.
In the end, he gave in.
"Would you mind terribly if I play?" He asked, voice quiet. "I can't exactly figure out some of the notes for this thing that I'm working on. It's really weird." He made a face and a vague hand gesture, as if Orion should know exactly what he was talking about.

((Please do.   I approve of that choice. ))

Orion had just managed to locate his pajama shirt when James answered - perhaps a little snobbishly - "Depends which instrument you're asking about." Before Orion could specify, he continued, "Piano, yes. Guitar, yes. Flute, yes. Trumpet, depends on the day. Any other instrument, no, but if I have it for long enough I'll learn how."
"Hm. Impressive." He nodded briefly, tossing his shirt over his shoulder. It may not have seemed like much of a reaction, but for him, any response at all was a compliment. After rummaging through his clothes a moment longer, he found his pants, then started walking toward the bathroom, only to pause with his hand on the doorhandle as James spoke again.
"Would you mind terribly if I play?" Orion shrugged, but James still continued, "I can't exactly figure out some of the notes for this thing that I'm working on. It's really weird."
"Whatever." He answered with a dismissive flick of his hand, "I don't mind."
Without awaiting a response, he vanished into the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind him, punctuating his disappearance minutes later with the running of the shower. He spent a good half hour in there, warming up from the cold ride over, then brushed his teeth and shrugged on his loose pajamas - They were black, a simple tee and boxers. Nothing fancy, but they suited him fine, and they were comfortable.

He kept his eyes downcast as he left the bathroom, suddenly self conscious in the absence of his hoodie and shades, and grunted a brief 'Night' without so much as looking at his roommate. When he was young, people had told him that he had soft, gentle eyes - like a doe, or some kind bovine creature. At the time, perhaps, this had been a compliment, but as the years went by those kind eyes had become a burden to him. He had built a hardened exterior, spiky and unwelcoming as a cactus, and that was all that he ever wanted to show to the world. He wanted them to loathe him, fear him, and steer far clear of the tattoos on his neck, and piercings in his lip.
As he tossed the covers off his bed and climbed in, back to James, Orion couldn't help but remember the muffled, distant sound of his roommate's music in the back of his mind. He had heard it, hollow and faded, through the running water of the shower, and it had lodged itself into his thoughts. He would never admit it, but the melody had been hauntingly beautiful, in a rough, disjointed fashion. He had always appreciated good music, and it was clear to him that his new roommate was a genius. This alone had already earned him a spark of Orion's respect.

A small sigh escaped James's lips as his roommate gave an uncaring wave of his hand. He could play his music. He said a silent prayer of thanks that Orion was not a music-hating demon sent from Hell to plague him. There was no need to go to the room assistant tonight to change his room then; he could until the morrow, or the day after, or whenever it became absolutely necessary to request a new lodging. And who knew - maybe he would actually grow to like Orion.
He almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of the thought.
As the dark haired man closed the bathroom door behind him and turned on the shower head, James pulled out the keyboard from under his bed, running his fingers over the keys lightly. It had been a graduation present to him, a recognition of his exceptional GPA all throughout high school. He smiled slightly at the instrument, marveling in its beauty. It had cost a fortune, he knew. It hadn't mattered - his father could afford it - but still, he didn't want to damage it. Gently, he set it down on the mattress and ran the cord across the room to plug into the outlet at the head of Orion's bed. That was the one thing he did wrong when he picked his side of the room - he didn't get the electrical outlet.
The man climbed back onto his bed and sat with his back to the wall, keyboard on his lap, notebook and pencil at his side. He plunked out the first few chords he had already written. The tones rang loud and deep, causing him to wince. He adjusted the volume and began playing again, and this time the music was more in agreement with his ears. The melody itself was strange; angry pounding - gentle pounding, though - all across the different octaves, disconnect, and unhappiness were prominent keys. It would be in E flat minor. He found that E flat tended to have the general dark tone that he was working for, and putting it in a minor would just be perfect.
As he expanded upon the ideas, the world around him nearly faded away, until it was just him and the piano in front of him. Even the angry thoughts of his roommate disappeared, and soon the piece wasn't really about him anymore. It was anger, sadness, disappointment, at all of the bad things that had happened in his life. How much trouble he had gotten in after that party, how angry his parents had been when they found the first can of beer, how Tess had reacted when she saw him smoking, Tess in general. Everything that was a stain on his perfect life. He let it all out.
This was not the first time that this had happened. His notebook contained dozens of little pieces of all these emotions. However, none had ever been developed to the extent that he had decided that he was going to develop this. He quite liked this tune, he found.
James took a quick pause to jot down all of the notes. His memory served him well enough that he could go on playing for quite a bit longer than most people and still remember what he had already done. Then he set the notebook aside and continued to compose.
He had filled out two pages of the notebook when Orion finally reemerged from the steamy bathroom, still clad in black, although he had lost the hoodie, jeans, and sunglasses. James finally noticed what his roommate actually looked like - at least from behind. The shirt strained against the muscles of his shoulders and his arms. Powerful biceps that looked like he could lift anything. James swallowed nervously, hoping that he wasn't an insane murderer or something, because James knew he didn't have a prayer if it ever came to a fistfight. He didn't turn to face James, just crawled into his bed, pulled the covers up around him, and faced the wall, seemingly falling asleep in an instant.
James played for a little while longer, taking a few occasional breaks to write down his thoughts. He ended his progress on a sad chord, one the resonated with feeling and longing, no anger from before even there. He didn't know why; it just felt fitting. Maybe he longed for a better roommate, or maybe a better life. That seemed selfish though. He knew he had it a lot better than most kids out in the world, and she he felt bad complaining. But that was honestly how he felt.
With a sigh, he pounded out one last angry fingering for good measure, then turned off the keyboard and put it back under his bed. Orion's eyes were closed when he passed by the man's bed to retrieve his cable. Hopefully he was asleep.
He quietly headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Halfway through, the water turned icy cold. James bit back an angry shout of surprise and lept out of the shower. He ended up rinsing the shampoo out of his hair in the sink, muttering irritably the entire time about his stupid, inconsiderate, annoying, weird, careless roommate. When he finally went to go back to the room, he realized he had forgotten a change of clothes. Sighing, he wrapped a towel around his waist and quickly fumbled around in a drawer, pulling out a pair of sweatpants. He headed back into the bathroom to pull those on, and then back out, climbing up into his own bed. Carefully, he pushed his music journal underneath his pillow, whispered good night to it, and promptly fell asleep.

((Sorry, I'm at a show so this will be a short, crappy one, but I'm keen to get something done for you, so... XD ))

Long after Orion had turned to face the wall, his body hunched beneath the covers, he laid awake in bed - still and silent, and listening to the final notes of James's composition. As he lay there, the music echoed his thoughts, and his bright green eyes traced patterns on the wall before him, his thoughts drifting back to a time not so long ago, when the life he had once loved - even despite its downfalls and challenges - had suddenly turned to shit. It was remarkable, really. A single day was all it had taken. A single minute, really. A second.
And in the last throbbing, heartrending tones issuing from across the room, Orion heard that second repeated, over and over and over. Until finally, it stopped. Slowly, he closed his eyes, swallowing the rising emotion in his throat. He just didn't get it... It had been a while since he'd thought of Luke with such sorrow and clarity - but something about his new roommate made memories of his old friend play out in his head like a movie.
And remembering, he had to admit, was harder than he cared to endure.

Quietly, the floorboards creaked beside the other bed, and Orion's spine stiffened as he heard James cross the floor, his steps light and agile as a cat's. It was a wonder to him, how anybody could move with such lightness. He himself hadn't the grace, or the spring in his step. Perhaps it was the perpetual weariness that ate at him, or the crushing weight on his shoulders forever dragging him down. Whatever it was, he felt it then. He felt it in his every troubled breath, and in the tension in each muscle as James moved nearer, crouching beside his bed to unplug the keyboard. Feigning sleep, Orion regulated his breathing. He didn't much care whether or not the other man believed his act, so long as he was left in peace.
Eat, sleep, study. That was what his life had become. What else could it be, when he hadn't even the will to rebel? He'd had it once, but everybody gave up eventually. Himself, he'd had no choice. Mr. Chang's hold on him had always been too strong.

Angry thoughts - perhaps triggered by the music - kept Orion awake long into the night, listening in tense stillness to the running of James's shower, and the padding of his wet, bare feet as he hurried back into the room to fetch some forgotten clothes. Orion caught a glimpse of his shadow on the wall as he vanished again, but by the time he was climbing into bed, Orion had started to succumb to sleep at last. It took him, weary and hopeless, away from the crushing reality, and back to a time when life had made sense; when Luke was beside him, and their crappy lives had somehow become amazing, intertwined with one another. Those were the days. Those were the days that he treasured with all his soul; that kept him going when nothing else would.

***

When Orion awoke the next morning, it was to the grating sound of his cellphone's alarm, beeping rudely in the silence. He shut it off with a curse, and after lazily clinging to the last dregs of sleep, he huffed and sat up in bed. A glance across the room showed him that James was still sleeping, but he paid little mind at first. However, after he'd brushed his teeth and looked out his clothes for the day while James continued snoring in the background, he checked the time again and decided that perhaps the right thing would be to wake his roommate. They had the same first class, after all, and frankly, Orion had been planning to follow James to find his way there.
"Hey," He called, cautiously approching the bed, and giving it a brief kick. "It's already quarter to, you know. You'll be late if you sleep any longer." He paused a moment, then shrugged, retreating back to his side of the room and pulling off his pajama shirt. Whether James got up or not, he had to be ready. He didn't like being late, despite his total disdain for his studies. He had always been a model student, despite the evidence to the contrary. It was a difficult quality to unlearn.

[[Short and crappy my butt.]]

The distant sound of an alarm went off in James's mind and quickly became a part of the dream he was having. He was back at home, walking Tate down the maple-lined sidewalk through their wealthy neighborhood. A few people nodded at him from their porches, and he nodded back politely in greeting. Soon the alarm went off and the world around him faded, and Tate, even sweet old Tate, was gone. He was by himself in a black abyss of nothingness. Suddenly a bright flash of green nearly blinded him. Little wisps of black smoke, barely visible upon the black backdrop hung in the air, causing him to choke. It smelled like a phosphorous match had been struck, and that meant-
A light kick to the framework of his bed awoke him.
"Hey," A strangely gentle voice prodded at his thoughts. "It's already quarter to, you know. You'll be late if you sleep any longer."
Late. That was the word of all words that could make James run. A quick glance at the clock told him it was 8:45, and that was definitely late.
He threw off the covers and quickly climbed down the ladder, nearly falling down at first because he'd totally forgotten that there was a ladder in the first place. He only spent one minute brushing his teeth, but there was no sensible part of him awake yet, only a driving need to be on time, to not be late.
He sprinted out of the bathroom, to his drawers, and back into the bathroom, and quickly shrugged out of his sweatpants and pulled on the clothes he would be wearing for the day - a sky blue polo, his typical khakis, and a pair of dark brown dress shoes. He was not the sort to change in front of people. Public exposure would make him less of a dignified person, he knew. One was not like to respect another if he had seen said other's morning stiffness thrust out into the air like a sword.
He grunted and, after running a few fingers through his mess of bedhead, reemerged, sweatpants in hand. He flung them on top of his bed, and began pulling out the books he needed for the first class of the day - Advanced Genetics. This was probably one of his least favorite classes, but he would learn to deal.
When James turned to look at the clock, it said that the time was 8:52.
When all of his books had been placed on his desk, he turned to face his roommate. "Thanks..."
The words stuck in his throat as he was met with the most strikingly beautiful and haunting eyes he had ever seen in his life. The hue of green was the same as the blinding light from his dream he realized. It was impossible though. How could his subconscious have known what color - what incredible, stunning, breathtaking color - was trapped in eyes set deep into the sculpted face of the dark man in front of him?
Somehow it had.
"We had better get going if we're going to get there on time." He said with a heavy swallow, turning his gaze to the ground after realizing he'd been staring. He also didn't want to look into those eyes any longer than necessary. Sighing, he picked up the books, slid them into a grunge-y messenger bag, and headed out of the room, not checking to see if his roommate was going to his class, wherever that was.

[[THIS was short and crappy.]]

((The show ran even later than expected. XD So it wasn't short.
And oh my goodness, THANK YOU for playing the 'notice eyes' card. :PThat's like, Orion's 'thing'. And people hardly ever use it. o_0 ))

Before Orion had even managed to undress, James was up like a flash, bolting into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. He uttered a snort of amusement, not quite cheerful enough to chuckle, and tossed his pajama shirt untidily onto his pillow, wrestling his way instead into a long-sleeved shirt with a 'Demon Hunter' logo on the front. He rolled his shoulders briefly, then tugged a pair of ripped jeans over his boxers, and buckled up his belt.
By the time James came flying past him again, he was already dusting off his favourite hoodie

By ten to, Orion was ready, but to his surprise, he had barely a minute to wait for James. Apparently his roommate had pulled off some kind of world record, because by 8:52, he was remarkably dressed - pants and all - and sorting through his books for the day. Orion watched with an interest bordering on fascination as a whirlwind of books flew onto the desk, James grabbing them quicker than any mere mortal ought to have been able to. When the other man finally turned him, Orion realized that he was still watching him like some kind of TV show, and he looked up attentively, meeting his roommate's gaze without really thinking.
"Thanks..." James started to say, then trailed off, staring openly at him. Orion tensed, then looked away, suddenly shy, and offered a non-committal shrug of his shoulders in response. The awkwardness lingered a moment longer, crackling like electricity through the air between them, then James averted his gaze, and the current was broken, rushed away by the sudden return of their race against the clock.
"We had better get going if we're going to get there on time." James pointed out the obvious, and Orion nodded, crossing the room with swift steps to grab his shades, and shove them onto his face. By the time he turned around, James was already fleeing the room, and Orion had to grab his bag in a hurry to jog after his roommate. He locked the door behind him - just in case - then jogged a few steps to catch up, and fell into step behind James, following him to their first class like some kind of shadow.

They made it to Advanced Genetics in the nick of time, and Orion claimed a corner seat right at the back, as far from the rest of the class as he could possibly manage. He didn't have to try hard; his fellow students avoided him like the plague, sensing the dark aura that he so clearly exuded.
The lecture was tedious and mindnumbing, but as he always did, Orion enjoyed learning, and he took notes even as their monotonous professor droned on and on in his flat, gloomy voice. The hours crawled by, and when the class finally ended, half of the students had to be shaken awake before they could leave their desks. Orion didn't have that problem, but he was fairly certain that if he didn't get to the cafeteria pretty soon for lunch - what with skipping breakfast and all - he was going to pass out from hunger.
He packed his books slowly, allowing the bulk of the students to bustle out through the double oak doors, then hefted his bag onto his shoulder and began trudging in the direction of the cafeteria, eyes downcast.

[[I was waiting so much for the eyes thing, you have no idea. Also does Orion's name have anything to do with constellation?]]

The rush around campus was hectic, but the grounds were mostly empty. Most students were ready for their first day of classes and wanted to get there a little early. Their punctuality might decrease as the year went on, but for the most part, everyone went to class on time the first day.
James shot past a few freshmen who tried to stop him to ask for directions, but he paid them no mind. His only focus was on the large building he could see from here - the McEnroe Science Building. Apparently some big-name movie producer Michael McEnroe had donated a large amount of money to the school, but James had never seen a movie by him.
In his haste, he didn't even notice that Orion had followed him the entire way until they arrived at the heavy double doors. He grunted as he strained against them, and then politely held one open for Orion. The man was able to find the lecture hall that he was going to - which happened to be the same one as James's own. He sighed and entered into the hall behind Orion, choosing a seat farther down in the front of the room.
The professor was a middle-aged, stout man, who was balding a little. He had a tiny pair of glasses perched on the tip of his nose, pinching his nostrils and giving him a very nasal quality to his voice. James wrinkled his nose. Already, he couldn't stand the man. All the same, he pulled out his tablet as the professor introduced himself - Professor Albridge, was his name - and began to take notes. This first lecture was all review from all of the other genetics classes he had taken in his lifetime, so he simply opened the folder containing his notes from those courses and made minor adjustments, adding little tidbits that the professor said but weren't already typed out.
By the time the lecture ended - four dreadful hours later - James was about ready to die. The professor's damned voice. The tone would be stuck in his head for weeks, if not longer. He shuddered and packed his books into the messenger bag over his shoulder and stood, stretching backwards. As he glanced around, he noticed that a solid half of the students were asleep in their chairs. One girl had made an honest attempt to look like she was working - her head was propped up by her arm, and her hand was poised as if to write - but her pen had dropped onto her lap, and she was snoring quietly.
James sighed at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight and began to walk out the doors. Orion had stayed awake, he saw, or else the man had just woken up. He still wore his shades, which James was thankful for. As his eyes studied his roommate's face, Orion's head turned slightly, so that he was looking almost directly at James. The blonde pressed his lips together in a hard line and turned away, continuing to climb the stairs until he was at last at the doors and out of the lecture hall.
Orion seemed to follow James all the way to the cafeteria, although he seemed to genuinely be going there for food and not just to follow his roommate like a lost puppy. That was good.
When he entered the doors, a long line had already formed at the buffet, but the tables were mostly empty. No one had gotten to sit down yet. He sighed and walked over to a table in the corner, pulled out his wallet, dropped his bag on a chair, and joined the rest of the students in line. It seemed like he was waiting forever. When he finally got to the food, he was silently cursing everyone at the university. You're a slob, he thought about the young man in front of him, who looked to be a sophomore. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a baggy shirt. And slippers. Slippers! The girl in front of the slob finally paid for her food and went to go join her friends at a table. You're a whore, he thought at her. She was wearing a pair of tight fitting leggings, and a shirt that was probably not even allowed here. She reminded him of Tess. He gave the cashier his food card, and after paying, he went back to his corner table. A few boys had sat down, and were absently poking through his bag. James felt a flutter of anger and indignation in his stomach.
"Excuse you." He said to them as he approached, setting his salad and pasta down on the table and reaching for his bag.
One of the boys - a acne-ridden man with long blonde hair - slapped his hand away. "We're not done yet." He said, quite harshly.
The man going through his bag took out his chemistry book and placed it on a stack with the others. When he pulled out his tablet, a wicked smile came over the man's face. "Tell you what, champ. We'll just take this and you can have your table back."
James rolled his eyes. "I'll tell you what, 'champ'." He said, voice low. "You give me back my bag, my books, my tablet and my table."
"Why would we do that?" The third boy said, obviously confused. He had close-cropped brown hair and clear blue eyes. He was a little chubby, too.
The blonde sneered. "How about we just keep all of this then?"
"Give it back."
"Make us."

((You rock. XD And no, it doesn't have anything to do with the constellation, but that fact is still fun to play with. ))

Orion didn't notice James walking in front of him until they finally reached the cafeteria, and he lifted his gaze to study the room, taking in the layout of the tables. It never changed, really. Each little group and clique had it's own table, just like high school. They sat there, judging each other silently for the most part, though some even did it out loud. Personally, he didn't much care what they did or said. They were all scum to him. Dirty, rotten little people with their spoiled smiles and perfect teeth. He'd bet half of them had never even paid for their own meals, or washed their own clothes. That was the thing about attending such a pristine institute. Everywhere he looked, he saw these wealthy spoiled brats - merely children without any clue of reality, trying to make it in the world of adults. He scoffed at them under his breath, then hooked his bag more firmly over his shoulder, and trudged wearily through the throngs of people toward the lunch queue. He had lost sight of James some time ago, but he didn't really care. Roommate or not, he was just one more number. One more pathetic blip on the radar of society. ((Oh my GOD, shut up, Mr. Doom n' Gloom. XD ))

The queue moved forward at a snail's pace, and Orion shuffled along slowly like a prisoner in shackles until he reached the front, ordering himself a chicken pie that looked less than appetizing, with its pale, pasty crust. But, as hungry as he was, he didn't really care anyway. Balancing his tray on one hand, he started picking ravenously at his fries as he made an automatic beeline for his usual table - the corner in the back, where else? - only to be stopped when he nearly walked into a rather stout back bordering a small group of boys - horrible looking things, with faces like dart boards and ugly sneers to match. The one he walked into shot him a glare, and just as Orion was about to retort with a withering look, he caught sight of what was at their center. A slightly taller man - obviously the leader of the bunch - with greasy blonde hair was searching through a bag, roughly emptying the contents onto the table, and just before him stood James, looking suddenly small despite his height, yet nevertheless defending himself against the group of gorillas who, Orion suddenly realized, seemed to be giving him a hard time. He seemed pompous as ever, but all the same, Orion couldn't help but admire his roommate's grit. 
"Give it back." James ordered calmly, and Orion noticed a tablet - presumably his - in the blonde's grubby hand.
"Make us." He sneered back, and as he stepped threateningly toward James, suddenly, Orion's vision flashed white with rage.
"There a problem here?" He asked coldly, placing his tray of food quietly on the neighbouring table as the group of bullies turned as one to face him.
"If there is, it ain't your problem." Blondie sneered, his thin lips reminding Orion of some kind of worm or centipede - the sort of crawling filth you'd find if you lifted up a great rock, and scratched at the underside of the earth. The longer the man smirked at him, the more desperately Orion wanted to squish his revolting, slimy little face.
"Hm." He shrugged, then nodded briefly toward James. "Give him his stuff back."
Blondie's eyebrows shot up as though in disbelief, and after looking left and right to his friends for support, he uttered a bark of laughter, then swung around to face James again, turning his back on Orion.
"You want me to give it back?" He taunted, swinging the tablet from his fingers in front of the man's face. He waited for James to try to grab it, then laughed and shoved him roughly in the chest, knocking him back. "Nice tr-" He began, but before he could finish his taunting, a yell overpowered his voice, and then Orion's fist had smashed into the side of his face with sickening force. His entire head snapped round, sending him staggering back. He nearly fell, but one of his friends caught him at the last minute, leaving the other to turn shocked, furious eyes on Orion, who was snarling in distaste as he shook out his fist.
"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Blondie's chubby companion demanded as he scooped up his friend, "You f*cking bastard, we'll knock your block off for this! Just you-"
He broke off suddenly as Orion began advancing toward him, looking suddenly taller as his menacing aura grew. Suddenly, the man seemed to have more destructive force than a volcano - and the group felt it. "F*ck!" Blondie cursed as he finally caught his balance, shoving his friend roughly off as he found his feet, tenderly touching his split lip. "F*cking punk!" His face was bright red from anger and humiliation as he turned to his friends, and snapped, "Grab this retard so I can kick the shit out of him!"

The scuffle that broke out was not a pretty one. Orion's temper had been roaring ever since Blondie had first laid a hand on James, and as he dodged the first punch thrown at him, another struck him a startling blow in the side of his head, knocking his glasses to the ground, where they got stamped on and shattered in a moment. Losing patience, Orion grunted as he tackled the man nearest him, throwing him to the ground only to wheel around and deal a hefty punch to the chubby guy about to smack him in the back of the head. It sent him reeling, and as he toppled back into Blondie, who nearly tripped over his other friend still sprawled on the floor, it was clear that the fight was over. The three barked some empty threats and flashed a rude hand gesture, but Orion had already turned his back on them, shoving his hands sulkily into his pockets as he stomped off, eyes trained shyly on the ground.
Without a word, he retrieved his tray of food, set it down on James's table, then sat opposite him.
Ever since he'd started at the university, this was the first time he'd chosen not to eat alone.
Without so much as raising his eyes, he picked up his crappy plastic fork, stabbed it into his pie, and started to cut.

James's head was reeling from the moment the blonde said, "Make us." He knew that he really had no way of making them. He would never be able to beat them up - he was outnumbered, three to one - and besides, he was in no condition to take on even one of them. Sure, he had ways of coaxing them - namely bribery - and coercing them - telling them who his father is. But both of those ways would make him a lesser person in their eyes, which he was not very keen on doing.
He was saved from making that decision, though, as a hulking shadow settled next to him. James turned around to see who it was, and was startled by Orion's face, deadly serious and flashing with anger. James had been thinking that the man was incapable of emotion.
"There a problem here?" He said with classic movie-star coolness. How weird that he would be the guy that came in and saved the day. Suddenly he felt himself blushing a little, as that made him the beautiful damsel in distress. Although he was beautiful and in distress, he preferred not to think of himself as a damsel.
The next few moments were a blur. The fight couldn't have taken that long, but honestly it felt like just one instantaneous thing. One moment, Orion was punching the blonde haired man, the next, the trio was stalking off, grumbling threats under their breaths.
Orion didn't even say a word to him, just sat down with his pie and began stabbing his utensils into it, as if it were the face of a man he despised. James sat quietly as well, stomach churning. He felt like he was going to be sick, for no other reason than Orion had just shattered all of James's judgmental views about the man. He poked his salad with his fork, ate a few mouthfuls of spaghetti, but that was all he could really handle just then, despite how hungry he had been during the lecture. All of the adrenaline from the fight had worn off, and he was left with an overwhelming sense of emptiness. Was he really that weak, that he couldn't even fend for himself? That he needed to be nannied by his creepy-ass roommate?
A part of him wanted to resent Orion for being there, but he knew that was folly. He would have been screwed up the arse if it hadn't been for him.
"Thanks." James said, almost repeating this morning. Except this time Orion had his shades on, and those green eyes couldn't attack him. "I really mean it."

[[Storm is over. Mostly.]]

((Maaaan, and here I gave up on you and went to sleep. XD This is why you need to have Facebook, so you can let me know when you've miraculously come back from the dead. ))

There was tense silence for a few minutes as Orion attacked his pie, ripping it apart like a starved lion, although by this point it was more from fury than from hunger. Being the rather grim, emotionless type that he was, it usually took quite a lot to get him going - but once he flipped his top, he truly exploded. Even as he tried to calm himself, he knew that he would be fuming for hours. He hated bullies. Well, everyone did, but he loathed them above all else - even Mr. Chang - with an indescribable, burning passion. Frankly, if he'd had a gun back there, he was fairly certain he would have massacred the lot of them. It was a wonder he hadn't stabbed them to death with a plastic fork.
Snarling at the thought, he stabbed his pie roughly again, but before he could start cutting off another piece with the blunt knife, James finally spoke up beside him.
"Thanks." Orion froze, knife poised over the mangled surface of his pie, then James added, "I really mean it."
At last, he looked up, rather surprised by the man's sincerity. So far, he'd got the impression that James didn't particularly like him - which was a good thing, of course - so to see him now looking so grateful was in fact somewhat confusing.
Orion considered him a moment, then shrugged as if to say, 'it was nothing' or 'don't mention it'. He dropped his eyes back to his plate, then paused and muttered, "I can't stand kids like that. They think they're so f*cking cool... They don't even realize the damage they can cause." He felt his jaw clench, and suddenly, the plastic fork in his hand snapped in half, causing him to grunt in surprise and shake it free from his hand. He'd not even realized he had been gripping it so hard.
"Man, this cutlery sucks." He sighed wearily, secretly feeling a little better now that he had broken something - even if it wasn't Blondie's stupid nose. With a vague shrug, he put down his knife, and started eating his chips instead. They were cold, but that didn't matter. When he was so angry, everything tasted like cardboard.

James sighed at the look of sheer confusion on Orion's face. It was clear that the other man had not been expecting even a simple "thank you". For some reason this made him feel a little indignant, but he let it go. There must have been some reason for his defense, then, if he wasn't doing it to get on James's good side.
After a moment that seemed like forever, Orion dropped his gaze back to his pie and shrugged, and began stabbing his food angrily again. There was silence, and then he spoke again.
"They don't even realize the damage they can cause."
His voice was deep, gutteral, filled with emotion. It made James think that he had bullies that didn't know the damage that they had caused. Maybe that was why he was so quick to come to James's aid.
The blonde swallowed heavily just as Orion snapped his plastic fork in half, not even realizing it until a few seconds later. The plastic material had been digging into Orion's skin so tightly that the man needed to physically shake it out. He said something about the quality -- or rather, the lack of quality -- of the cutlery. James nodded in grim agreement.
"It sure does." He murmured under his breath, more to fill the silence than to actually start a conversation. The rest of the meal was quiet, although it was enough to listen to the passing conversations around them. Some girls were giggling among themselves at the table next to them, talking behind there hands and laughing pointedly at Blondie and his crew, sitting dejectedly at a table a little farther off. When the boys noticed, they grumbled, grabbed their food, and left the buiding.
"Saved by a bunch of girls." James muttered darkly under his breath, rolling his eyes and letting out a bitter chuckle. "Who would have thought."
A quick glance at his watch told him that it was about time to leave, so he began packing his things, casting sideways glances at Orion every now and then. The man seemed to have calmed down a bit.
"What class are you going to next?" He asked politely, knowing that he should probably make light conversation. Secretly he hoped that it wouldn't be the same. If it were, he would most likely be expected to sit next to Orion or something in gratitude for saving him. Again, James gritted his teeth against the damsel in distress image. "I'm going to Advanced Chemistry."

[[Managed to get on to post during study hall, wee! And when I get home, I can give you a link to my Facebook and then you shall know when I have been resurrected as a zombie!!!]]

James agreed with his comment about the cutlery - apparently out of sheer awkwardness - and then silence fell again. Orion continued eating, making a bold attempt at using the broken half of his fork, since he wasn't keen on walking the gauntlet of stares to get himself a new one. Apparently, his little stunt had earned him a fair amount of attention, which was something he usually tried to avoid.
The silence went on as he and James finished their meals, but they both glanced up as the girls at the table beside them giggled loudly - their ill-disguised points and stares coercing Blondie and his gang into leaving. Orion's eyes traced their progress in a predatory fashion, and he uttered a 'good riddance' huff as they walked out the door.
"Saved by a bunch of girls." James chuckled bitterly under his breath, "Who would have thought."
Orion glanced toward him, and offered a vague shrug in response. He had never been a man of many words. After a glance at his watch, his roommate began packing, and after he'd finished his lunch a moment later, Orion did the same. Luckily, his bag hadn't been emptied onto the table, so he was ready to go even before James was. He stood up to leave, but before he could, the other man asked, "What class are you going to next?" His voice was too polite. "I'm going to Advanced Chemistry."
"I guess we're taking most of the same subjects." Orion muttered in response, hooking his bag more firmly over his shoulder, and shoving his bruised hand into his pocket. He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back at James.
"For the record," He added, with the usual icy chill in his tone, "You don't owe me for all that." He jerked his thumb to indicate Blondie's gang's empty table. "So don't feel obligated to hang around me or anything." He glanced away, scratching his chin awkwardly. His social skills really had gone to shit in the last few years.
"Anyway..." He pointed vaguely to the door, taking a step back to leave, "If they hassle you again, you know..."
Trailing off, he shrugged, then gave up on what he was trying to say, and turned around, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked toward the exit, shoulders hunched defensively as always. There was just something about James that made him, well... Almost comforting to be around. Even the awkward, silent lunch was the most tolerable company Orion had endured in quite some time. It was strange, but he supposed it made sense, in a way. Though they were near opposite in personality, James's physical resemblance to Luke was... It was uncanny. Perhaps that was why, when he'd first seen Blondie backing James into a corner, he had felt more furious than he had in years. It was as if history was repeating itself...

For a moment, James was disappointed that he and his sullen roommate would have the same classes. Despite what had happened, he wasn't to keen on spending time with the other man, and had been hoping that genetics would be the only common thing in their schedules. With a sigh, he resigned himself to walking with the other boy to the lecture hall when he spoke again, nearly answering his thoughts out loud.
"For the record, you don't owe me for all that. So don't feel obligated to hang around me or anything." He said icily. James was taken aback by the tone. He couldn't tell if the man was angry or if that was just how he naturally was, and the fact that he still wore his shades was not helping matters. He looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet awkwardly as blood colored his face. He felt ashamed for thinking the way he had been, about not wanting to spend time with Orion or anything, about not feeling grateful at all.
"Anyway, if they hassle you again, you know..."
Actually, James didn't know. What? Was he supposed to call Orion for help? Squeal like a little girl? Maybe even get a rape whistle or something that would summon the menacing hulk-boy to his side to defend his honor? He sighed and absently adjusted his grip on his handbag as his roommate walked out the door.
He didn't remember walking out of the cafeteria, or across the campus, or into the lecture hall, but suddenly he was there. He took a seat near the front of the hall and waited for class to start. His thoughts were heavy, his mind like lead. He didn't even notice when the professor walked in until the whistles and cat-calls from the back of the room started. He had assumed the slender, auburn-haired woman was just another student. She looked to be about their age, so she couldn't have been that long out of university. He watched her through hazy eyes as she frowned at the men in the back and began teaching. All throughout the lecture, she had to deal with profane comments and vulgar language. She kept her cool, though. James knew that if he had been thinking properly, he would have lost it at the beginning of the talk. He was nothing if not respectful to women.
When the lecture finished, he headed back to his dorm room, feeling incredibly weary, despite the fact that it was only about two in the afternoon. After opening the door - which Orion had remembered to lock, bless his soul - he dropped his bag gently on the ground, climbed his ladder, and promptly fell asleep on top of the covers, fully clothed.
---
He awoke some hours later at seven. James opened groggy eyes and glanced at the red numbers on the alarm clock. They swam around, like little red bugs, for a little, and when they stopped, he realized that he'd missed dinner.
"Sh*t." He muttered, sitting up slowly and rubbing his eyes fervently.

The next class was frustrating, to say the least. The moment the teacher walked in, the immature whistles started from the back of the class, and Orion groaned, dropping his forehead into his palm. He was just so sick of it all - the immaturity, most of all. He couldn't help but wonder, now they were in college, just when his classmates planned to finally grow up.
He took in nothing of that lecture - though whether it was from the run-in with Blondie and his gang earlier or from something else entirely, it was hard to say. In any case, he left that room in a daze, and after a few minutes' wandering, he found himself in the library. His feet seemed to carry him there automatically when his mind was filled with unrest, and right then, he felt as if he needed some time to unwind.
Finding himself a quiet corner - although the whole library was quiet - he sat down withe a faint creak of the wooden chair, pulling a random book from the shelf, and starting to read. As his mind slowly relaxed, time slipped away from him, and it was not until supper time that he finally put the book down, half finished. Yawning and scrubbing his eyes with his fists, he mumbled to himself, then began trudging toward the cafeteria, keen for his next meal.
He arrived to the smell of hot lasagne, and by the time he had ordered himself a plateful, his mouth was already watering. Taking a deep whiff, he uttered a sigh of contentment, and quickly wolfed down the food - suddenly starving after a long and tiring day.

As he returned his tray, he could not help but notice that James had yet to show his face. Assuming that he had simply missed his roommate, Orion shrugged it off, and bought himself a couple of packets of crisps from the vending machine in the corner. He planned to stay up and study what he'd missed in Chemistry. Even if he didn't plan to achieve the greatness expected of him, he still liked to stay on top of his game. Failure was a choice, not a weakness. If he failed by accident, the whole balance of power would be shifted. Then, things would turn really bad.
Yawning wearily at the mere thought, he scratched the side of his head, and strode on back to his room, where he found James fast asleep on his bed.
Well, that solved one mystery.
Closing the door quietly behind him, he sat down, and started on his studies. He had been reading through the textbook for nearly an hour when the creaking of bed springs caught his attention, and a quiet voice muttered, "Shit." He glanced up, eyes straying to the clock on James's bedside table, and saw that it was already after seven. Too late for dinner. No wonder the poor kid was upset...
Empathetic to the pangs of hunger, Orion sighed, and dug a packet of crisps from his bag.
"Here." He tossed them casually at James's head, "You missed dinner."
At first he merely tried to turn back to his studies, but as he glared at the page, the usually sensible equations swam before his eyes, and he realized that it was useless. He was still too distracted. Those punks from earlier had really messed with his mind...
Cursing under his breath, he flipped the heavy textbook shut and dropped it into his bag, then ripped open his own packet of crisps, and started crunching absentmindedly on them. Whether it was that his roommate's exhaustion was contagious, or just the sight of his bed a few steps away, Orion was starting to feel tired. It was only seven, but really, what else was there to do? Eat, sleep, study, as always. He'd done two of three already.
Orion yawned, scratching at his green-streaked hair, then uttering a little grunt of pain as his fingers brushed against the painful bruise on his face - all the worse now that Blondie's goons had added to Mr. Chang's handiwork...

[[I forgot that you people say crisps and not chips... and that chips mean french fries.]]

The bag of chips hit James square in the face, as he was too sleepy to see them coming. He shot an angry glare at the offender, but he wasn't paying attention. He looked as if he was attempting to study the chemistry textbook, but soon gave up, instead opening a bag identical to the one he'd thrown at James.
The man looked exhausted as he sat at the desk, munching idly on his snack, seemingly only because he was bored. Groggily, James opened his own and took a tentative bite. His stomach was still a little touchy from earlier in the day, and he didn't want to chance anything.
"Thanks." He murmured, leaning back against the wall and shutting his eyes. He couldn't go back to sleep; there would be no point in that. Already, he knew he had napped too long and it would be a bitch to try to fall asleep tonight. With a sigh, he got up and climbed down the ladder before heading into the bathroom to relieve himself.
As he was washing his hands, James noticed that the skin under his eyes was a little darker than the rest. Oh no, he thought. This is only the first day.
He sighed and splashed some water on his face, ran his hands through his bedhead, and brushed off his polo. How could he have slept in that? Now it was all wrinkled, and he was in no state to go out in public and-
Why the hell would he need to go out in public?
James rolled his eyes and headed back out into the dorm room, plopping down at his own desk and pulling out his music composition textbook, idly flipping through it. Most of the things were basics that he already knew, so he doubted that the course would be very informative. However, it was required for his minor, and he may as well take it to get a good grade.
He got up and paced around the room for a minute, completely and utterly bored. He could study, although there was nothing really new to learn, and he had already read the required materials. He could go back to sleep, although he wasn't that tired anymore. He could try to talk to his roommate. A sideways glance at the man told him that he hadn't miraculously transformed into someone James wanted to be with, so he quickly pushed the thought away.
Absently, he grabbed his keyboard, set it on his bed, and then plugged in the cord next to Orion's bed. He shrugged apologetically at him, and then climbed back onto his bed, laying the keyboard across his lap and cracking his knuckles.
The music flowed smoothly as soon as his hands touched the keys; fingers danced intricate patterns across black and white, notes and rhythms pouring forth as if they had been locked away and hitting the keys in the right order could release them. It was one of his earlier compositions that his mind numbly told him to play. It was a soft, sad melody, written right after a character in a book that he loved died. He did that often - wrote themes for characters in books. One time, for a project in high school, he had written a composition for The Scarlet Letter, telling the tale through music instead of words, and performed it for the class. He had earned an A+ and the praise of his classmates, but others throughout the school ridiculed him for his ability to play. Queer, they had shouted. Faggot.
Unbidden, Orion's words from earlier flashed through his thoughts.
They don't even realize the damage they can cause.
James glanced to his roommate. "Any requests?" He asked quietly, for he had finished the piece.

((Dude. I totally say chips. But then I thought that you said crisps, so I changed it. XD Now I remember that you're American and not British. That was awkward. ))

Orion shrugged off James's thanks as if he'd not even heard, still munching steadily away at his own chips like some kind of robot, if robots could eat. For a while the room was filled with the quiet crunching of chips and rustling of packets, but then James stood up, and his creaking footsteps were added to the sound as he wandered over to the bathroom, leaving Orion alone for a minute.
He shook his bag of chips quickly, then squinted into it, and clawed into the corner to get the last crumbs, which he quickly licked off his fingers while nobody was around to see him behaving like an animal. With a quick, self-conscious glance in the direction of the bathroom, he scrunched up his packet, and tossed it into the bin. Wiping his hands on his pants, he retrieved a battered library book from his bag, then stood up and shuffled heavily to his bed, where he sat down with a grunt, just in time to see James emerging from the bathroom, still looking rather disheveled from his nap. 
He watched from behind dark glasses as James picked up his keyboard, then walked over to plug it in. Orion's eyes followed him, and although he was far from annoyed, he earned an apologetic shrug from his roommate anyway.
Then, after a moment, James began to play. At first Orion feigned disinterest, tossing aside his cracked sunglasses as he opened his book to read, but as the beautiful melody began stringing together, he soon found that he couldn't pretend any longer. Before he knew it, the book was shut - abandoned on his pillow - and his bright green eyes were fixed intently on James, tracing every movement of his elegant fingers as they danced on the keys, creating the very masterpiece that so moved him as it reached his ears. There was no denying; this man really was a genius.

Slowly, yet all too soon, the piece drew to a close, and as Orion began to slip out of his spellbound slumber, he realized that James was looking at him, almost expectantly. "Any requests?" He asked, his quiet voice sounding strangely loud in the absence of the music. Orion hesitated a moment, deciding not to answer straight away. Instead, he murmured sincerely, "You're very talented. I've never heard anybody play like that..." He trailed off, glancing away to hide his expressive gaze. He was not used to complimenting people, and frankly, it made him feel a little shy. But James had earned it. And he was a firm believer in giving people what they deserved - whether it was a beating, or a simple acknowledgement. 
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Orion quickly reverted back to the original question, pushing his green-streaked fringe back from his face. "I guess it's a long shot, but... Do you know 'Carry me Down' by Demon Hunter?"
Actually, who am I kidding? This kid is no metalhead.
"You know what," He grunted, swinging himself off his bed, "I'll play it for you. He squatted down, reaching underneath the bed to drag out a guitar case, beautifully adorned with pictures and inscriptions on the worn black leather. He lifted it carefullly, sliding it onto the springy mattress, then vaulted up and undid the clips, taking out a slim acoustic guitar. He plucked at the strings, quickly checking the tuning, then glanced toward James, his expression somehow softer and more relaxed than usual. Music tended to have that effect on him, especially his favourite song. It was a sad one for him, full of difficult memories, and yet somehow, hearing his sorrow in the form of a song seemed almost to ease it.
"Right..." He plucked a couple of chords, "I'm sure you'll have no trouble picking it up, so here goes..." With a soft sigh of breath, he began playing the song, fingers moving over the strings with a delicacy unfitting of his harsh exterior. As he played, his brow furrowed in the middle - just a little - and his hair fell softly over his face, brushing against his cheekbones, and casting a shadow over the softened lines of his jaw. He was a good guitarist, without a doubt, although his skills were nothing on James's, but he had already realized that that was an unfair comparison.

((So I found a piano version of 'Carry Me Down' for you. Here: Link. Don't cry, it's only one of the most amazing songs in the world. XD The original version is equally amazing, if not more so, but listening to that about 6 times in a row has kinda made it grow on me. Anyway... YAY, got character to talk and stuff, kind of. It's a start. ))

The compliment was an unexpected response to a question. James ducked his head and blushed slightly, letting his hair fall over his eyes. He gazed down at his hands resting over the sleek keys, suddenly very shy about his playing ability; he'd never been like this before. Three was no need to hide his natural inclination. He was always eager to accept compliments with a bright smile, because he knew that he was amazing. But somehow it seemed Orion was complimenting not only his ability to move his hands quickly and accurately, and not even his ability to compose such an amazing piece. Anyone who knew the basics of music theory could create a rudimentary song. However, what made a tear-inducing composition that made you question your life different from a mediocre one that a student created for a midterm was the feeling behind it. And James had put a feeling, a memory, a piece of his soul into every note.
"I guess it's a long shot, but do you know 'Carry Me Down' by Demon Hunter?"
James shook his head, but before he could answer that his best friend Carson was absolutely fanatic about them, Orion was quickly backpedaling. "You know what? I'll play it for you."
The blonde was about to tell Orion that no matter how much he was complimented, he would not let anyone else play his precious keyboard. But the other man just crouched by his bed and pulled out his own guitar. James sucked in a breath of air in shock - he could play guitar.
Suddenly it didn't seem so bad to be rooming with the freak anymore.
He slid the guitar out of its case - it was a real beauty, almost as good as James's own - and began playing after quickly making a minor adjustment to the tuning. The man's slim fingers danced gently over the strings, gently picking at the melody and creating a sad tune filled with longing and despair. Orion had told James he could pick up the melody at any point, but somehow he felt that it would be wrong. And while his own hands ached to mimic the chords that Orion was so expertly playing, he knew that it wouldn't be the same. So, with a sigh, James closed his eyes and dropped his hands away from the instrument, letting the music flowing from across the room carry his mind to a different place.
When the song ended, and Orion looked up at him expectantly, James opened his eyes and his face broke into a grin. "That was fantastic, I can't believe you play." He gently set the keyboard aside and jumped down from the bunk, not bothering with the ladder. He landed on the ground with a loud thud, but he ignored the stinging in his feet with uncaring quickness. His guitar was pulled out from under the bed and suddenly in James's hands. He tuned to Orion's guitar and began to play the first few notes of the melody. "Show me how that went again?" He let his eyes wander up to meet Orion's, a large, genuine smile on his face.

[[Ah, and so it begins. James has a soft spot in his heart for anyone who can do music stuff, and since Orion can do that, it will go a long way. We could maybe have them do a music project or something together. Not for class or anything, but James just wants someone else to play with. A bigger plot would still be necessary, though. What things could happen... And chips. Chips are good. So it that song. I listened to both versions :3]]

((Aaaaaw, good little characters. XD Project sounds good. And I'll keep my thinking cap on that master plan... Know what I need? Cake. Cake makes me think.
Also, you rule for two reasons: 1, you listened to the song - both versions. 2, you appreciate its complete and total awesomeness. XD ))

As the beloved chords of 'Carry Me Down' flowed from Orion's fingers, he soon found himself lost in the song, barely even noticing that James had yet to fall in as he was supposed to. He felt every note of the music in his very bones, and as he played, images of Luke flashed through his mind, wonderfully beloved and staggeringly sorrowful all at once. That song was the only one that could perfectly express how he felt, and though listening to it was painful, it was a good kind of pain; like the stinging of a healing wound.
With this thought, his fingers strummed out the last chords, and the sound slowly reverberated into silence. For a moment he was lost in its spell, then he looked up, and found James grinning at him. He nearly did a double take in surprise. His roommate's face was a picture. Orion had never seen him look so excited before. In fact, he very nearly smiled himself at the sight of it, but of course, his lips lifted no higher than their usual grim line.
"That was fantastic," James enthused, still grinning, "I can't believe you play."
"I taught myself." Orion shrugged, feeling faintly pleased by the praise, "I've been playing since I was a kid."
Still looking uncharacteristically excited, James leaped down from his bed, and Orion watched in stunned disbelief as his refined, dignified roommate suddenly turned into a child before his eyes, wrestling out his own guitar. He tuned it expertly, then quickly mimicked the first few chords of the tune. Once again, Orion was amazed by his musical ear. 
"Show me how that went again?" James said, looking up brightly, with all the eagerness of a child in a candy store.
"Hmph." He breathed, a half-amused sound. "You really are a genius." This time, it was not intended as a compliment. It was merely a fact that, for some reason, seemed to tickle him.
"Here," He began plucking the strings again, and soon enough, James was playing along with him. He had never played together with anyone before, and hearing the way his roommate's playing harmonized with his own was truly an incredible feeling. Within minutes, he was actually enjoying it. Gradually, the harsh line of his jaw began to relax, and after a while, he took to singing the lyrics quietly, "Will you carry me down the aisle that final day, with your tears and cold hands shaking from the weight..." His eyes closed, and his face was full of a sorrowful peace; a side of himself that seldom emerged, except with the music, and never in the public eye. But he was comfortable around James, for no matter how much he reminded himself that the man before him was not Luke, the likeness would always be there.
"When you lower me down beneath that sky of grey, let the rain fall down and wash away your pain..."
His voice was raw and untamed, but even as he mumbled the words quietly, barely audible above the music, he could clearly sing. He didn't, usually - not in front of people, anyway - but he could.
Finally, they reached the end of the song, and as the music dissipated into silence, Orion's fingers remained hovering over the strings, still trapped under its spell. As he stared down at his own hands, there was a deep-set grief in the premature lines on his face, remembering Luke, and all he had lost. Then, suddenly, he cast off the heavy atmosphere, pushing his guitar aside and glancing toward James.
"That was actually pretty fun." He admitted, pushing his fringe away from his forehead, and messing up the neat dyed streak, so he suddenly looked as if somebody had just dumped green paint over his head, "I've never played with anybody before. Thanks."
This time, it was his turn to be grateful to James.
He's not half bad, this guy. I actually think, maybe, I could learn to get along with him.