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Name: Riley Doyle (Irish origin - Riley means 'Valiant' and Doyle means 'Dark foreigner')

Age: 19 (but in year 11. - Reasons to become clear.)

Appearance: He has a rather fair complexion. He stands at about 5'9, making him about average size for his age. His build is extremely powerful, and one can tell easily from looking at him that he works out a lot. Riley is a natural redhead. His hair is relatively short, and usually gelled into stylish spikes on his head. He is usually seen wearing a black hoodie and slightly baggy jeans. He seldom shows any skin, besides his hands and face, and even those he keeps well hidden with his hood and his pockets. He shows the potential to be pretty handsome, but doesn't seem to take very good care of his appearance. His face is often quite pale and his eyes often seem bloodshot. He usually has a faint stubble growing on his chin. However, Riley has a kind and charming smile, and his pale, ice-blue eyes often make people want to smile if they do manage to meet his gaze, which doesn't happen often, since he has a habit of avoiding meeting the eyes of others. Riley has several scars, but the only ones anybody ever sees are those on his left cheek and across his right hand. He also has a tattoo at the back of his neck, but nobody has been able to work out what it is since it's almost always hidden by his hood, and one would be lucky to catch a glimpse of it.

Other: Riley was born in Ireland and has a slight Irish accent. He often misses school - sometimes his absenteeism goes on for days on end, and he often pitches up with new injuries, for which he always has unbelievable excuses.

Riley sat in a hard-backed wooden chair opposite the Principal's desk. His hood hid his fiery head, and the shadow it threw over his face hid his downcast eyes. His hands twisted anxiously in his lap, and his icy blue eyes watched them with unwavering attention, though at the same time, his gaze was slightly unfocused. He was doing his best not to listen to the Principal's words, and the roaring wave of sound was crashing over his deaf ears again and again - yet not managing to penetrate. "For Goodness sake, son, are you listening to me?!" The principal roared, and this time, his words broke through. Riley glanced up briefly, met his eyes for a moment, then quickly looked away. He played it dumb, gnawing on his lip but refusing to speak. "ANSWER ME, BOY!" The principal demanded, his voice rising into an angry yell. "Yes sir." Riley replied simply, his tone quiet and unfeeling. "Good!" The principal snapped, "Then you'll know that your absenteeism has dragged your grades so low that you're on the brink of failure. Again." The man's eyes narrowed as he glared at Riley. Once again, Riley said nothing, but simply watched his twisting hands in his lap. "Do you even care about your future, Riley?" The man asked, his voice slightly softer now as he addressed Riley on a more personal level. "I'll catch up my work." Riley said simply, still refusing to look at the principal. "Riley..." He began softly, his tone gentle and concerned now, "Let us help you. Tell me what's bothering you." He pleaded, watching the boy with a sorrowful gaze. He knew that Riley was not as stupid as his grades suggested. The boy had talent, but he wasted it... The principal simply hated to see that.
With an effort, Riley dragged his gaze upwards and met the Principal's gaze, a reassuring smile lighting up his face and extending quickly to his eyes. "There's nothing bothering me Sir, really, only I haven't been feeling well these past few days so I thought it better not to come to school." He explained, his tone kind and cheerful. The principal returned his smile, almost without intention, then finally succumbed to Riley's wishes. "Very well, then..." He said with a defeated sigh, "You're dismissed, but make sure you catch up what you missed, and for goodness sake try get some extra credit projects done! It's high time you graduated from this place!" The Principal concluded in slightly desperate incredulity. He shook his head, then dismissed Riley with a wave of his hand. "Thanks, sir." Riley said simply, flashing another of his charming smiles before leaving the office. He walked down the corridor with his eyes on the floor, glad of his success, but still not seeming particularly heartened by it. After he had been walking a short while, he heard approaching footsteps. Glancing up, he saw a girl limping toward him. She seemed vaguely familiar, but at the same time, he knew he definitely had not seen her recently. "Hi." He greeted her tentatively, not quite looking her in the eye. He thought for a moment, and some piece of gossip he remembered hearing at some stage drifted into his mind. "Are you Lucinda Valentine?" He asked politely, "I can... I can show you where to pick up your timetable if you like..." He offered with a shrug, his pale blue gaze dropping to his feet as he waited for her answer.

Lucida-
I glanced up at him doing my best to hold my tongue and be polite. The nerves vanishing from the scene. "I'm going to say this and I'm only going to say this once, so listen good and hard buddy boy." I started glancing up and as i did my hood falling showing the deep gory scar that marinated my cheek. "I am not dead. I have no brain damage i can remember perfectly fine. Just because i am partially paralysed from the waist down don't mean i am going to take any of your crap. I may not be able to be the good lookin popular gal anymore but i can still get you on your cute little ass faster than you could blink. Got it?" I asked him, waiting for my answer as i tapped my fingers rhythmically against my leg. In such a way a keyboard player could.

Riley blinked in surprise at her sudden outburst, slightly thrown by her intense words and manner of speaking. "I-I'm sorry...?" He apologised questioningly, watching her with a slightly confused gaze, yet always somehow evading her eyes. "I didn't mean any harm." He assured her, "I just thought I'd offer." He concluded with a shrug, seeming slightly stand-offish. "Well," He said with a shrug, his tone seeming a little less hazy now, and starting to show his Irish accent, "It's been a pleasure meeting you 'Not Dead'." He said, his face breaking into a smile that seemed to uplift his features and make them seem much gentler and more handsome than they usually cam across. He met her eyes for a brief moment, but soon dropped her gaze again. Though his eyes were clear, hiding them had become a habit, since he had never been able to stand the awkward questions that popped up when people noticed they were bloodshot. He was running out of excuses on that front... "I guess I'll leave you to it, then." He mumbled, staring at the floor. "I'd rather not acquire any bruises on my ass anyway, since I'll be needing to sit on it all day." He concluded, flashing her a brief smile and chuckling softly. "See you around, then." He added with a friendly, strongly Irish tone, raising a hand in farewell before making to step past her and continue on his way. He was obviously not at all offended by her words. In fact, after his initial confusion, he had hardly seemed concerned at all.

Lucida-
"Take away my fun. It's Lucy." She called. Before heading back to the principles office knocking before letting herself in. Smiling at they elder male before taking a seat as asked

Riley raised a hand to acknowledge that he had heard what she said, his lips twitching in a slight smile, but he kept walking. The moment he lowered his hand he shoved it back into his pocket and walked on with his head bowed. He still had a little while before class began, but he still had to try remember the combination for his locker and gather the books he needed before the day started. Riley watched his feet as he walked, briefly returning the friendly greetings of those who bothered to acknowledge his presence. He liked to do what he could for others, and he liked to befriend them, but he sill kept to himself for the most part. The reasons were complicated, but he supposed the simplest would be that he could be just a little shy at times. Riley paused as he reached his locker, removing his left hand from his pocket to rub his thumb thoughtfully over his chin. His skin rasped against the faint stubble covering his face, and eventually Riley found himself simply cupping his chin in his hand and staring at the locker - demanding that it reveal its secrets. Finally, the numbers came to him, and Riley snapped his fingers in realisation before twisting the dial to the appropriate numbers. The locker sprung open, and Riley quickly gathered up all the books he would need for the day.

Riley glanced up from his books as he suddenly heard his name being called. "Riley? Riley Doyle?" Came the voice, and Riley turned his head to see a boy he recognised as a perfect holding up a sheet of paper and glancing around - evidently looking for something. From the boy's words, he assumed that this 'something' was him. "I'm Riley Doyle." He said quietly, walking over to the boy and waiting with downcast eyes for whatever the boy had to say. He kept his hands firmly hidden under his books, for he was not keen to have anybody see them if he could help it, and whilst he had books to carry he could not hide them in his pockets. "Riley." The boy greeted him formally, "The principal has asked me to notify you of several things." He went on, his tone slightly cold and professional. Riley merely nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground. The fact that he would not meet the prefect's gaze seemed to annoy the boy, as he found it disrespectful, and his tone became more snappish with each word leaving his lips. "Firstly, you need to present a doctor's certificate and schedule to rewrite the tests you missed - Otherwise you'll get zero, and from what I hear, you can't afford many more failures." The boy smirked slightly at his own smart-mouthed comment, only to have his face creasing back into an ill-tempered frown when Riley merely nodded and accepted his mockery in amiable silence. "The other thing," The boy went on stiffly, "Is that he has assigned you a study buddy. He says you are to make sure she can find her way around, and that nobody picks on her, since apparently she's been under some sort of stress or something." The boy shrugged, then went on, "And she'll be helping you to better your grades and improve your work ethic, or so we hope." With that, he slapped a test schedule into Riley's hand, along with a piece of paper bearing the text 'Lucinda Valentine'. Riley considered it for a moment, then glanced up at the boy as he began to walk away. "Thank you." He said simply, allowing a slight smile before he turned away and headed toward his class, the piece of paper with the name of his new study buddy crunched in his hand - the hard creases in the folded paper digging sharply into his palm.

Riley sighed as he entered the empty classroom, aware that he was running early but unwilling to stall any longer. He was more likely to get curious looks if he walked in after the others... The way they constantly peered under his hood trying to see his face never failed to make him feel uncomfortable, but he always tried his best to ignore it, for he did not want to come across as rude. Speaking of which, he hoped Lucinda, or Lucy as she seemed to prefer, wouldn't mind too much about being assigned to him, or vice versa... Actually, it seemed the principal thought they would both benefit from it. He was a good man. Riley wished he could pull his own weight what with the effort the principal was putting in to get him to pass, but it wasn't always that simple... Riley sighed again, then walked into the class toward his desk - his footsteps sounding loud and echoey in the peaceful pre-class silence. "Hood down, Riley." The teacher said automatically as he walked in, barely even glancing at him. The teachers no longer bothered to tell him to catch up his work, or demand a doctor's certificate. Instead, they just let the principal speak for all of them. Riley ignored the teacher, keeping his hood up as he walked to his desk in a pretense of inattentiveness, or feigned deafness. He sat down and pulled out his maths book, then crammed his hands firmly into his pockets. He stared blankly at the cover of his book as the students gradually began to file in - glad of the shadow of his hood hiding his downcast face. Finally, when the last student walked in, Riley heard some commotion, and glanced up. Seeing Lucy, he glanced instantly away again. He knew what it was like to have everybody stare at you when the last thing you wanted to be was the center of attention... He was not going to join that gawking gang of students making her feel so uncomfortable. No, he would simply ignore her unless she gave him reason to do otherwise. She didn't seem too keen to have to endure his presence anyway, so he would simply be naught but a shadow, as was his custom.
A short while later Lucy was sitting beside him, swallowing various pills. Riley glanced pointedly away, a slight tension showing in his actions, as though he felt extremely awkward. Then the teacher asked them to open their books and take out a pen. Riley sighed heavily, but resigned himself to doing what she said all the same - though it did mean showing his hands, which he was not keen to do.
Riley removed his hands from his pockets, took out a pen and flipped his book open. He rested his hands casually on his desk, hoping not to attract too much unwanted attention. His knuckles were split open, jagged cuts running along the back of his left hand. His right hand was slightly purple and swollen. The injuries seemed mostly superficial, but quite severe, despite the fact that they were half-healed already. Riley paid little attention to his hands. People were seldom observant enough to notice such details - especially on somebody as quiet and understated as himself. He hoped they would not see... And of course, he hoped they would not question.

Riley frowned in concentration as the teacher explained, copying down everything she wrote on the board - but not really understanding it. Given a little time, he knew he could grasp this work... But he had missed so much, it was impossible. It reminded him of that song, the one they had all sung as kids... "The foolish man built his house upon the sand..." The lyrics and melody escaped him now, but he remembered the message. Without a solid foundation, the house came tumbling down again and again. That was exactly how he felt in maths. As though he was trying to build a tower of cards on a pillow. They just would not stand without proper grounding. Riley sighed, quickly refocusing his attention on what he was supposed to be learning - desperate to take it all in.
Suddenly, a low hiss of pain distracted Riley from his note-taking, and he glanced briefly at Lucy. She was leaned over in her seat, trying to reach a piece of paper on the floor that seemed to dance just out of reach o her fingertips - taunting her like little boys taunted their dogs - waving hot-dogs in their faces before gulping it right down themselves and leaving the poor dogs with saliva dripping from their jaws, and no food to moisten with it. It was a cruel and miserable sight, but he dared not interfere. Riley jumped as the teacher's voice broke through his thoughts, reminding him that he needed to pay attention if he wanted to have any chance at all of finally progressing to he next grade. He jotted down notes a while longer, clenching his jaw to keep from wincing as the scabs on his hands cracked from the actions of his writing. His knuckles were skinned almost to the bone, and the cracking of the scabs made the old wounds burn as though a white-hot pokes was being pressed against his skin. He ignored it - focusing on the soft scratching of his pen as it inked dark words and symbols into the pale paper. Why was it that none of them made any sense...? Okay, so X was equal to 3, but why? No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't comprehend... Yes, so when he divided with fractions he had to use a reciprocal. Well, that made sense... If he could remember what the hell a reciprocal was! Damn, damn, damn... He just couldn't keep up with all this...
Feeling his stress and frustration building, Riley glanced briefly at Lucy to distract himself. He cast his gaze instantly away as he noticed the tears on her face - feeling instantly guilty for intruding, yet unable to stifle a stab of sympathy. His tongue darted nervously over his lips, and he turned back again, quickly leaning over and tipping his chair sideways. His long arm reached the spot easily, and his fingers whisked the note off the floor without a fuss. "Here." He whispered softly, placing it gently on her desk. His brilliant blue eyes were still cast aside, staring at his desk, almost as though he was afraid to see her reaction. He snatched his hand away from her desk quickly as soon as he had deposited the note there, but apparently he had been too late, for the next moment Riley jumped half out of his skin as an appalled voice jolted violently through his ears. "RILEY DOYLE! What on God's green earth has happened to your hands?!" The teacher demanded, clapping a hand over her mouth in utter horror. As one, the class all turned to lock their greedy, curious eyes on his hands. Riley shoved them firmly into his pockets, staring even harder at his desk as he felt the heat crawl into his ears and cheeks until they matched the colour of his hair. "I tripped." He muttered feebly. "Tripped?" The teacher inquired disbelievingly, raising her eyebrows. "Yes... Down the stairs..." Riley added lamely, clearly not keen to speak. The teacher scoffed and rolled her eyes, then ceased her interrogation, obviously deciding that Riley wasn't worth her time. The students, however, continued to stare. Riley wished they wouldn't.

Riley glanced at Lucy in vague surprise at her sudden bold outburst. He glanced over her briefly, as though seeing her for the first time, and even met her gaze and held it for a moment - which was exceedingly rare for him. His icy-blue eyes were soulful and enchanting - seeming as though they ought to belong to somebody far... 'different' looking to himself. In the brief moment that they skimmed Lucy's face, they held some gratitude, but he soon dropped his gaze and glanced away again - the shadow of his hood hiding his face for the most part. "Thanks." He murmured, his strongly accented whisper barely audible. He couldn't remember the last time somebody had stood up for him like that... He had become something of an outcast recently, and though the others seldom showed him malice or ill intentions, they did not exactly embrace him with open arms either. He was simply 'there'. Just one more picture in the yearbook. Just one more 'classmate', or 'that guy'. He did not blame them... How could anybody know him? He seldom spoke, unless spoken to, and he wasn't around often enough to forge any real friendships. He tried not to let it bother him though. It didn't matter what they thought, as long as they let him be. Gnawing thoughtfully on his lip, Riley turned his attention back to the board. Oh great... What was this - Greek?! He didn't remember this stuff... Besides, he couldn't focus now. He was still trying to work out why Lucy had stood up for him... He had thought she hated him for some reason... Then again, perhaps this was some sort of 'eye for an eye' deal. Though the way he saw it, it seemed more like 'pinkie finger for a lung'. He had picked up one little piece of paper... She had stolen the unwelcome attention focused on him at her own cost. Now that was a noble thing to do...

Riley nodded slightly at her comment, still looking away, twisting his hands nervously in his lap. He glanced back at Lucy as she leaned over, frowning slightly before turning his attention to her pencil-tip. He listened intently to her words, nodding slightly from time to time. Blast it, he knew all this! This was basic... He had learned it ages ago... But why hadn't he remembered? As the basics clicked back into place, Riley glanced at the board again, and a soft laugh burst from his lips. It all made sense now! To think that it had been so simple... Just one stupid lapse of memory... He shook his head at his own silliness before glancing over at Lucy, not quite meeting her eyes, as usual. "Thanks." He mumbled quietly, "I remember now." His lips twitched in a slight attempt at a smile - but it slipped instantly from his face as the bell sounded. The sudden sound caused him to jump twitchily in his seat, acting almost like a big squirrel, and he quickly gathered up his books and slipped them into his bag. Slinging it over his back, Riley stood up ad began to step away from his desk, but as he moved, one of the students walking past shoved past him, pushing him sideways. Riley bit down on his lip to hold in a grunt of pain as his right hand was crushed against the desk. One the other student was past, he pushed away from the desk and released a soft sigh, plunging his injured hand into his pocket before anybody could see the extended damage to it. He began walking toward the door, then hesitated a moment and turned back, fidgeting uncertainly as he waited for Lucy. He was supposed to help her out... Whether she liked it or not. Besides, he had reason to, now. He owed her... And in his world, debt was a factor of huge importance.

Riley frowned slightly, trying desperately to remember, but his mind failed him. He pulled his timetable out of his pocked and glanced over it briefly. Health class... He had health class... Joy. Well, at least it was break afterwards. He would just wait it out... "No... I mean, yes." Riley replied quietly, his eyes still downcast, his fingers fiddling nervously with the timetable. "We go to separate lessons now." He explained quietly. "Goodbye." He added, flashing a gentle smile before walking out of the door. He paused briefly as he entered the corridor. "And thanks..." He muttered quietly, his words barely audible. With that, he walked briskly off to his class. Riley felt his jaw clench as he reached the door. He stared through the window for a moment, then shook his head violently and turned away.

Riley walked through the empty corridors, glancing around edgily and hoping he wouldn't run into anybody. He broke into a jog every now and again - as though desperate to get somewhere - and urgently. He suddenly saw a bathroom up ahead, and he made a dash for it. Only on the way, a sweet melody caught his attention. He paused and doubled back on his tracks, glancing through the dirty window to see a somewhat familiar figure sitting at the keyboard - glorious music trickling like wine from her fingers. Suddenly, Riley no longer had an urge to escape. He slid down to the floor and sat outside the classroom, listening peacefully to the music.

Riley's head jerked up as the figure he now identified as Lucy broke into song. Still sitting and leaning against the classroom wall outside, Riley listened more attentively than before. His expression stiffened slightly and he glanced at the ground, though there was nobody around to hide from... Nobody to see his shame... Except himself. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the stab of empathy those lyrics brought. They were so... Fitting. And the way Lucy sang them - with such emotion - he could almost feel them crying out from his own heart. Ah, but who was he kidding...? He wasn't that guy any more. He'd accepted his lot by now... He knew that he had long since forsaken that innocence, and that it was never coming back. He knew that his life would never be whole gain... That he could never be restored... And he had accepted it. So what the hell was he moping about? Nothing. One sad song, one stab of empathy, one moment of sorrow. Undetectable and meaningless... And now it had passed, and he would never think on it again.
He raised his head again as Lucy ceased playing, and slowly heaved himself to his feet - surprised at how difficult it was to balance with his hands shoved into his pockets. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he leaned his back against the wall, waiting for Lucy to emerge, not really caring if she did or not... Not really caring if she noticed him... Yet waiting all the same.

Riley shifted his gaze to the ground and sat in silence at Lucy's words, which somehow seemed more like an accusation. When she turned away, he raised his head and watched her - his enchanting ice-blue eyes locked upon her in a gaze that was clearly meant to see - but not be seen. "You play well." He murmured softly, keeping his words simple as always and speaking in a slightly shy tone. He dropped his gaze as she turned back to him and began talking again, even though she wasn't looking directly at him. "If it helps you sleep at night..." He murmured softly in response to her words, shrugging vaguely. He was sure she'd heard the 'It's not your fault, don't give up' card a thousand times or more. That was what everybody thought you wanted to hear... But unless he was simply one of a kind, he knew that quite often those with sincere problems, not jut attention-seeking ones, actually wanted people to understand their decisions, empathize with them, and accept them - rather than trying to convince them that thy were wrong... Happiness could not be forced. If self-blame was what gave her comfort, then who was he to dictate? Perhaps it was a bad thing... Okay, it was definitely a bad thing, but sometimes those bad things were necessities. Sometimes the more people pushed you to stop and change, the more you longed to keep going... The more you longed to stay the same...
"I am sorry..." He added hesitantly, shifting himself back from thoughts into speech "For what happened, that is... You have my condolences." He trailed off for a moment then, struggling as always to find words for his thoughts. "Just... Don't start chasing the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow." He advised timidly, "You'll never find it, and you'll just forget to enjoy the beauty of what's been given to you in the struggle." Slightly ashamed by his words, Riley pushed himself to his feet and began walking away - his hands still shoved deep into his pockets. "Whoever that was playing in there, they were brilliant." He called back as he continued to walk away, "If you know them - give them my compliments." And in those words Riley swore himself to secrecy. He continued walking down the passageway - unaware of where his feet were taking him, and not really caring. There was but one place he wanted to get: Away.