Welcome!

[Ariel Foxworth Mallory]

Tap, tap, tapping was heard across the living area as Fox’s feet click-clacked to Out Tonight from the musical Rent. Considering it was late and most – if not all – of the Aureus residents were snoozing, he ensured the tune burst into his eardrums via the earphones attached to his laptop. Simultaneously, he tried to refrain from humming the melody while allowing his head to bop a smidgen as he typed on the familiar contraption in front of him. Biting his lip, he concentrated on the screen, attempting to make a decision that was perhaps the single most important decision he had to make since he came to Lakeside Valley.

He needed advice desperately – he needed some sort of professional at this sort of thing. He wasn’t very experienced in these matters and usually relied on the helpfulness of others when it came to such things. Unfortunately, he was now at a facility where he didn’t really know anyone, and he wasn’t about to tap the shoulder of the nearest emotionally disturbed individual for an answer to the question birling inside of his skull. Sure the people were nice enough, but you never knew if you’d encounter one of the more unstable characters around Lakeside. Who wanted to take the chance? Besides, it’s not like anyone was awake to inquire anyway.

As he sat slouched in his slightly uncomfortable seat, he thought that if he didn’t make a decision soon that catastrophe would strike – the world might spontaneously explode or somesuch terrible thing. The screen illuminated his face in the darkness, and he knew that he had to come to a conclusion soon for sure – it was getting so late that it was almost “early.” He couldn’t just let something this important hang in the air for much longer – oh no, it would be a tragedy in the making. He couldn’t allow this injustice to continue; he had to take a stand, he had to make a decision for himself, he had to…

Think of an instant messaging screen name.

For some reason, he couldn’t think of a single suitable screen name for himself no matter how long he sat in his chair typing various words and phrases. Nothing looked right, nothing sounded right, nothing was… right. He thought about quotes he found entertaining, song lyrics that he enjoyed - even random words that seemed appealing - and nothing was even remotely what he was looking for. Fox had already exhausted the entirety of his MP3 collection in search of something – anything. If he found anything even resembling what he desired, he would tap it into the text box and find that the screen name was already taken.

Fox propped his chin on the middle of his palm in frustration, he figured there had to be some username still out there that was witty and appealing... right? Oh, forget it, Fox thought to himself as he removed the palm from his chin and tapped _{RandomUsername001} into the text box field – it wasn’t important to be witty - he just needed a username. He figured he could always change it later if he felt the need. Upon hitting the enter button, Mallory’s jaw nearly struck his lap in shock when he was presented with the message: _{Username unavailable. Please choose another.}

Mallory’s eyes bulged in astonishment, his ajar jaw hanging precariously as jumped to his feet, shouting, “BUGGER!” Unfortunately for Fox, as he jolted, the cord of his earphones flung free from the plug in his laptop and the Aureus cabin filled with the song’s melody as it reverberated through the walls,

“Let’s go – OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUT TONIGHT!”

Instantly tensing in the dark, Mallory fumbled for the cord to his earphones in order to plug it back in – like an idiot not even thinking to hit the mute button on his keyboard – making even more of a racket while repeatedly muttering, “Oh, my god, oh crap, oh jeez!” The earphones plummeted to the floor as he fumbled, and the music seemed like such an intrusion on the quiet of the night that Fox found himself wondering if the vibrations could be felt as far as the Burkhart cabin. He had to get his earphones plugged back in before someone woke up to all of this bustling rumpus!

[Avery Kenneth Emerson]

Ave wasn't an insomniac. He just had problems sleeping. There was, in fact, a very subtle difference; tonight, however, he was feeling more restless than usual; though he was used to having to wait at least half an hour for slumber to finally stop being a prima donna and just take over him already, this particular evening Somnus apparently had previous engagements. Thus, Ave had to modify his usual evening attire (as in, nothing) to a pair of wholly unremarkable boxer shorts and a white t-shirt that had to be from middle school, judging by the size, wittily embroidered with english majors are the best ninjas. they're subtle like the b in small pins that were roughly the color and shine of duct tape. Ave had pulled up the short sleeves of the shirt over his shoulders, as they had started to chafe (apparently, his torso hadn't gotten much longer since he was 13, but his arms had), and a few sliver-width tendrils of scar tissue snaked out from underneath the white cloth, looking more like a tattoo than a scar.

Nights like this usually called for more than a glass of water or casual masturbation; thus, Ave was trekking about the upper levels of the cabin without much purpose. He had learned how to sneak around at night from a young age-- since about the time the new punishment for breaking curfew was being woken up at 5 and made to do chores for the three hours before school-- and it was paying off now; the brunet had been tip-toeing up and down the stairs, pacing, and randomly hiding in storage closets (it was a weird habit that came from a long-instilled thrill of his own claustrophobia), trying to ease the wretched wakefullness that haunted him. Unfortunately, it was an unholy hour of the morning and he was reduced to sliding around on the oak panelling of the upstairs hallway, having pulled on a pair of blue-and-white toe-socks after the third splinter. It was weirdly entertaining-- the sliding, not the socks, although they were admittedly very nice socks.

Ave rubbed his eyes, squinting down the length of the sparse-illuminated hallway and setting his destination for just shy of the coatrack outside Anger Management Patient #23's room. With a near-silent running start, the newly not-teenaged youth slid towards said coatrack-- only to be jolted out of his concentration by an intensely sonorous howl from the lower levels of the cabin. Several things happened all at once; for one, his sock snagged on something-- likely another splintering bit of wood-- and sent him off balance; as if that weren't enough, he was still casually careening forwards, although his target area had suddenly been shifted from a humble and benign coatrack to the staircase that led downstairs; and, just to rub salt into the wound, he let out a very undignified half-yelp.

Albeit a very deserved yelp, seeing as the stairs showed no sign of moving slightly to one side and apologizing for the inconvinience; Ave attempted to push his momentum backwards, but it was to no avail; his center of gravity was way too off for him to do much more than brace himself, but by the time this occured to him he had already managed to lose his balance completely, slip and fall onto the floor, and barrel over the stairs. He clattered down the stairs in an awkwardly shaped mass of limbs and clothes, tripping over his feet as he reached the first landing and falling backwards down the second, shorter flight of stairs. His head thudded against the floor, his body still sprawled across the last few steps and his much-too-small shirt likely riding up, groaning in sore defeat, to the sound of Rosario Dawson proclaiming her love of nightlife and ability to get into any shady store of ill-repute on notoriety and cleavage alone; a noble feat, but nothing that would help Ave with the ache that was quickly threatening to settle into his arms, shoulders, and knee. Avery did the only thing he could think of doing, other than just lying there and dying.

He snarked.

"I'm actually more partial to Rubin-Vega, myself," he groaned vaguely, the words coming out more pained than he'd meant them to. He closed his eyes, not bothing to move incase he'd broken something and he'd slice an artery. "More gutteral, more real. Dawson's too much of a-- fuck-- an actress." Ave hissed, sitting up slightly to examine his right shin. Yeah, that was going to bruise in the morning-- in fact, it wasn't even planning on having the decency to wait for the morning, by the looks of it.

[Ariel Foxworth Mallory]

"You wanna prowl, be my night owl?"

Pulsing music pierced the night as Fox bumbled in his attempts to cease the surprisingly booming sounds that poured from his laptop computer. Cursing Bill Gates and anyone that ever had anything to do with the process of inventing computers, Fox looked up from his search to notice his laptop’s plug in a nearby wall. Dashing to the plug, he yanked the power cord from its socket, only for the music to continue blasting throughout the cabin. “What the hell…” Fox muttered to himself, and briefly mused whether his laptop was possessed by some evil spirit determined to get him grounded… or whatever it was they did to unruly folks around here, as Fox wasn’t entirely sure at this point. He wouldn't put it past these people to have dungeons with chains and iron shackles.

Realisation dawned on him – his laptop not only had a battery in it, but a fully charged battery. Fox briefly considered throwing the machine out of the window, but quickly thought better of it – not only would that make even more noise, but an awful mess of things as well. He stood there in shock for a moment, adrenaline pulsing through his veins as he fidgeted and attempted to collect his frazzled thoughts. As he fidgeted nervously, his head glanced downwards to view his traitorous earphones lying on the floor near his bare feet – he had been practically standing on top them! Sometimes Fox swore that he was a blonde mentally as well as physically.

"So dark we forget who we aaaaaaare!"

Snatching the earphones from where they were relaxing comfortably on the floor – almost taunting him, Fox would have sworn – he dashed to his laptop in order to plug them into the earphone slot. In the dark of the cabin with only the laptop light for his poor night vision, Fox fumbled a moment before finding the small circle – the home for his earphones and what would be the end to all of this blasted noise. As Fox was about to plug the earphones into their socket – to finally cease the tune of Out Tonight – he heard the yelp of what he guessed to be an animal emanating from upstairs. He paused, thinking that whatever it was – a dog, maybe? – it certainly didn’t sound as if it were in the best of circumstances to say the least.

Fox heard stumbling and rustling from upstairs, for a moment wondering if perhaps there was a break-in or something equally as horrible. Surely thieves would be smarter than to pilfer from a nuthouse like Lakeside Valley, Fox thought, unmoving from his position. Then again, Lakeside Valley was home to some rich and famous clientele… it was probably a good target for thieves, though he had thought that the security was too good for that sort of thing. Fox heard the stumbling approach closer, and his jaw dropped to the floor – not far from where his earphones had been – as he witnessed a body flail helplessly down the stairs to land with a thud, its journey ending on the final steps by the floor.

If it was a robber, then Fox thought that it had to be a rather inept one. He slowly raised his body from the crouched position by his laptop, simultaneously raising his jaw carefully from the floor in order to get a better look at his intruder. He couldn’t tell if the figure was moving, but he crept towards it carefully, taking note of their boxer-clad state. Fox allowed himself a sigh – it was a resident, not a robber, however he was only halfway encouraged by the thought. Mallory could now tell it was a male-someone, and turned his head toward the laptop for a moment, briefly debating whether to attempt to help him up or deal with the music situation first.

"Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?"

The poor fellow uttered a groan, bringing Fox’s attention back to him as the gent remarked, “I’m actually more partial to Rubin-Vega, myself.” Mallory blinked a moment, not quite sure how to take his comment. Here they were, whatever-o-clock in the morning, with music nearly shaking the walls and people falling down staircases… and he questions Fox’s choice in his versions of show tunes? Truth be told, in many of the songs from Rent he actually preferred the Broadway cast as well, but did he not realise how much more difficult the Broadway versions were to find on Limewire? The boy finished, “More guttural, more real. Dawson’s too much of a – fuck – an actress.”

Though he was a bit thrown off by his frankness, Fox was about to agree with the boy when the song reached a close and blissful quiet entered the cabin once again. “Are you okay?” Fox inquired of him, bending down on a knee, and leaning next to the boy’s fallen form as he shifted himself upwards. While the fellow took what seemed like a great interest in his battered shin, Fox noticed the boy’s partially exposed abdomen and had a few unclean (though admittedly brief given the situation) thoughts in relation to him. He quickly pushed them aside, though he didn’t know what people expected of him – he was a sexually deprived nineteen year-old guy. Of course he fantasized occasionally… sometimes often a lot.

“Can you move… or stand… something?” Mallory asked, flinching as his playlist finally cycled from silence onward to La Vie Boheme. He looked at the boy sheepishly and gave a small shrug, “I’m a Rent fan, if you can’t tell.” Fox then blushed furiously, which he hoped his companion couldn’t perceive in the dark.

“Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goooooodbyes!”

[Avery Kenneth Emerson]

"Are you okay?" Avery resisted the urge to snort derisively, incase that set off a flare in the burning in his back. He pulled himself up a little more, trying to quickly take stock of whatever injuries he might have based on pain alone. "I just fell down two flights of oak stairs," he replied grimly, hissing at a new-found sore spot on his shoulder, "the best I can hope for is that I didn't break anything. Anything important." It came out a bit harsher than he'd intended it, likely because he was trying not to let an agonized groan seep through into his tones, so he offered a brief smile to the no doubt natural blond kneeling beside him.

"I think I can move," Ave replied lowly, more focused on attempting to ease himself (or rather, his legs) off the remaining stairs. Thus far, he'd managed to locate a few sources of his pain; his right shin, for one, which was quickly coloring, and what felt like a rugburn but was more accurately oak-burn on his back; he'd hit his knee on a stair on the way down, which accounted for the dull throb in his left leg, and his right shoulder had taken a bit of a beating at the initial fall. Other than that, any injuries he had sustained were relatively painless, and, seeing as he didn't have CIPA, this was a very good thing. Avery managed to get himself into a mostly-sitting position, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair aimlessly. "Not sure about the standing part, however." He tugged on a stray lock of black aimlessly before pushing it behind his ear and simply sitting stonily still, eyebrows knitted together pensively.

The blessed silence gave way to Anthony Rapp's admittedly amazing voice, something that Ave couldn't very well snark about (well, unless he brought up the fact that Anthony wrote horrible, horrible porn, but that had more to do with his autobiography/memoir than his singing), and Avery sighed. "It's very unlikely that I'll be able to stand initially after a fall like that--" he gestured to the staircase, as if to remind Fox that he had, in fact, fallen "--without assistance. So, my gallant knight," he sighed, offering a hand. "Help me up?"

He smiled at Fox's last statement, albeit a bit wryly. "Honestly? I hadn't noticed. And to let you in on a little secret," he added in a conspiratorial whisper, "I am too. An injured Rent fan, but a fan all the same."

[Ariel Foxworth Mallory]

”To days of inspiration.”

Fox had to admit that this was one of the rare moments where he regretted the fact that he paid so much attention to people when they spoke. If he could’ve ignored the boy for a moment, just one moment, then he could have stolen time to silence the tunes of Rent. Not that he wasn’t enjoying the music itself, but waking people out of their slumber wasn’t exactly a bright move to make anywhere – much less Lakeside Valley. The smaller boy shifted slightly as Fox watched awkwardly, unsure how exactly he should offer his assistance. Depending on the extent of the boy’s injuries, Fox could both boost him up and help him walk, or pick him up and carry him somewhere. “I just fell down two flights of oak stairs,” He said, and Fox flinched as the boy spoke with a hiss of pain upon his lips. Fox could be a very empathetic person, and if someone looked as if they were in pain, he tended to almost feel it himself. The fellow finished with a fleeting smile, “The best I can hope for is that I didn’t break anything. Anything important.”

Returning the boy’s smile with a sympathetic one of his own, Fox hadn’t noticed the harshness of the uniquely dressed boy’s tone. Mallory was focused on ensuring the person in front of him was something resembling okay, while his heart simultaneously raced nervously due to the pounds emanating from his nearby laptop. “Does anything feel broken?” Fox inquired carefully, shaking his head while adding, “And how is it you managed to fall down the stairs, again?” Fox immediately bit his lip; he hadn’t meant it to come out quite that way. So much for tact, he thought with frustration – the last thing he wanted to do was offend the poor (figuratively speaking), injured guy.

“I think I can move,” The bumbler stated, as Fox turned his head once more to glance longingly at the laptop. He had been so close! Returning his gaze to the brunette hastily, Fox nodded and waited to see what he could do for the boy. He allowed himself a moment to wonder why this boy was at Lakeside, but decided against asking for now – it was even more cliché to ask around here than the oh-so-original, ‘What’s your sign?’ Fox was immediately shaken from his thoughts by the boy’s admission, “Not sure about the standing part, however.” Fox nodded again – he was beginning to feel like a bobble-head doll – trying not to crowd the boy while ensuring he could be there for him should he need him. Fox noticed him tuck a lock of hair behind his ears and he thought that if the guy was well enough to care about his hair, he was A-OK.

The boy sighed and said, “It’s very unlikely that I’ll be able to stand initially after a fall like that –” As he gestured towards the staircase, Fox’s eyes followed, causing the blonde to frown as he thought about how a fall like that might feel. The thought wasn’t bringing to mind pleasant images. “—without assistance. So, my gallant knight,” the injured boy said, drawing Fox’s attention from the staircase back to him as he noticed him hold a hand outward. Fox couldn’t help but smirk a little – he hadn’t ever been referred to as a ‘gallant knight’ before, and he rather liked it - he could be easily flattered sometimes. “Help me up?” The boy asked. “Of course,” Fox said, taking the boy’s outstretched hand and wrapping it around his larger shoulders in attempt to prop up the smaller boy and carry most of his weight. “Is this uncomfortable for you?” Fox asked before adding, “I’m sure I can carry you if it is – and though I’m a bit of a klutz, I would promise not to drop you… um, much.”

The brunette smiled and said, “Honestly? I hadn’t noticed. And to let you in on a little secret,” He whispered, “I am too.” Fox found himself blushing even harder than before and cursed the boy mentally, biting his bottom lip with his upper teeth in order to suppress a nervous giggle. “An injured Rent fan, but a fan all the same.” Fox grinned and inquired, “I don’t suppose this injured Rent fan has a name?”

To being an "us" for oooonce -
Instead of a them!
La vie boheeeeme!

[Avery Kenneth Emerson]

Ave paused at the question. Now that the initial stinging pain had subsided into a dull throbbing, it was rather unlikely that he had broken something-- at least, he was moving well enough to suggest that nothing of any particular consequence was fractured. Still. It hurt. "Yeah, I think I broke my most of me," he replied, a bit petulant at this point, but deservedly so, considering the nasty fall. He cocked an eyebrow at Fox's inquiry. "I should think it would be obvious. I was upstairs, minding my own buisness-- to be really honest, sliding around on the floors, it's the best cure for insomnia-- and I was attacked by a sonic boom of music." He drummed at his lower lip as Fox bit his, trying not to smirk too patronizingly. "What a diplomatic question."

"Ah, ah, not so quickly," Avery hissed, wincing as the taller boy pulled him up. His left leg screamed indignantly as he rose, nearly giving out and dropping Ave back on the floor, but the brunet leaned heavily on Fox (hey, he'd offered to help) and managed to keep his balance, if only barely. When Fox asked if the position was uncomfortable, Ave nodded grimly-- he was stretched a bit, for one, and feeling like he was going to keel over any moment. Being carried, however, was out of the question-- by a self-proclaimed klutz, no less."Yeah. Here--" Ave grabbed Fox's other hand, placing it firmly on his hip and managing to be very satisfied with himself for the point-two seconds it took for him to remember his shirt was still well over acceptable location on his torso "--fuck, sorry," he muttered, pulling Fox's hand away and tugging down his shirt again before replacing the hand, "there. Now just... stay like that. For a second." Now that he was standing properly, the pain wasn't as bad; give it a few moments, he figured, and he'd be right as rain, besides a slight limp in his leg, if that.

"This injured Rent fan is called Avery. Avery Emerson." Ave stuck out a hand, albeit a bit awkwardly considering his position and current motor ability. "Call me Ave, everyone does. Well, everyone worth talking to me." He flashed a somewhat cocky smirk-- but of course, he was practically defined by his borderline smugness, and therein lay his charm.

[Ariel Foxworth Mallory]

||Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion||

Fox had found that life enjoyed throwing curveballs at mostly innocent people, and it was painfully obvious that he was no exception to this bothersome rule. “Yeah, I think I broke my most of me,” The stranger claimed, and Fox couldn’t decipher if it was sarcasm, irritation or humour – but it slightly entertained him regardless. When Fox asked him how the fall occurred, the stranger replied, “I should think it would be obvious.” Not to me, Fox thought with a blink, and he was beginning to feel as if he suddenly became even blonder. The boy continued, “I was upstairs, minding my own business – to be really honest, sliding around on the floors, it’s the best cure for insomnia-” Fox’s eyebrow rose slightly – sliding around on the floors? “And I was attacked by a sonic boom of music.” He finished, Fox’s heart sinking further and further with each word. As if Fox hadn’t felt humiliated enough before, he felt even more so now – this was his fault – and he forced himself to stay silent. The stranger added with a smirk, “What a diplomatic question.” Fox considered dropping him for funsies, and might have done so if the boy hadn’t echoed Fox’s own thoughts about himself.

"Ah, ah, not so quickly," The boy spoke with another hiss of pain, causing Fox to grimace slightly as he uttered, “Sorry, sorry, sorry…” The smaller boy seemed to nearly lose his footing and he shifted most of his weight onto Fox’s frame. Fox uttered a slight oomph sound as he adjusted to the new weight, but he had anticipated something similar might occur and had adjusted his footing accordingly. “Yeah here—” The boy said in reply to Fox’s inquiry, as he grabbed Fox’s free hand and placed it on the skin of his hip. Fox fought another arising blush - regardless of the circumstances, the brunette seemed to have that effect on him. “—fuck, sorry,” The stranger realised, removing Fox’s hand from his hip as he pulled down his shirt. Fox’s hand was placed onto his companion’s hip again as he said, “There. Now just… stay like that. For a second.” Fox tried to steer his mind away from the thought of their close proximity, nodding to his suggestion as he confirmed with an elfish smile, “For a second.”

||Life's too short babe, time is flying||

“This injured Rent fan is called Avery. Avery Emerson.” He revealed, thrusting his hand in Fox’s direction awkwardly. “Well, ‘Avery Avery’ Emerson,” Fox mused, mimicking the brunette and thinking that it was a rather nice name, “This enormously embarrassed Rent fan is called Fox.” Idiotically, his first instinct was to release his hold on Avery in order to shake his hand comfortably, but he thankfully thought better of it before he moved. Unfortunately, Fox couldn’t reach Avery’s hand with the hip-holding hand, and Avery’s other hand was thrown over Fox’s shoulder – not exactly ideal circumstances. Fox managed to reach his index and middle fingers to Avery’s hand clumsily offering, “Two out of five ain’t bad?” So it was a bit silly, but at least it was an attempt at being polite.

||Wine and beer!||

“Call me Ave, everyone does. Well, everyone worth talking to me.” Avery claimed, a smirk displayed upon his lips. Fox was flattered to have “Ave” consider him worth talking to, especially considering the whole stairs-incident. Fox bit his lip nervously while trying not to stammer, “It’s… um, nice to have… er, bumped into… well, not quite bumped, but met um… you.” Fox’s mental processes just weren’t working as they should be tonight, that much was clear. As La Vie Boheme came to a close, Fox couldn’t help but wonder... he wasn’t normally this inarticulate, was he? He also couldn’t help but wonder which song would boom from his laptop next, as he had his playlist set for random on his Rent folder.

It could be anything.

[Avery Kenneth Emerson]

"For a few seconds," Ave amended with an indulgently dorky grin. "Sorry, again, about the-- well, you know. Are you ill? Or dehydrated?" The brunet cocked his head slightly to one side, momentarily forgetting the soreness in his limbs. "You're blushi-- oh. Oh. Apologies, I didn't mean to freak you out with my--" with his what, exactly? Ave panicked a bit, realizing he was rendered inarticulate by the combined delicacy of attempting to apologize (he had to worry about offending Fox, embarassing Fox, possibly angering Fox if he was homophobic, though how likely was that, he was listening to showtunes) and the fact that he was already significantly jarred. "Sorry, I'm not usually this infernally... I'm generally a very loquacious person," he said finally, a bit exasperated with himself.

Ave rolled his eyes at Fox's mimickry of his introduction-- it was an overused gag, in his opinion, although some unidentified air about Fox made him smile indulgently, if not a bit twistedly. "That's it, just Fox?" He grinned at Fox's attempt to meet the handshake. "Am I foolish to wager that your brothers and sisters are named Rain, Tree and Leaf or were your parents just lazy and not hippies? Not that there's a recognizeable difference." Ave nodded, laughing quietly. "Three out of five ain't good," he replied, despite the fact that chances were slim Fox would catch the Old Springs Pike reference, "but I suppose it will have to do."

Ave bit his lower lip to prevent a smirk-- that would be cruel, after all-- and nodded, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from turning. "It's nice to have bumped into well not quite bumped but met you too, Fox," he replied. "Also, I think I'm all better. Or, at least, able to support myself." Tango: Maureen began to play in the background, and he remembered the very thing that had started the fall in the first place. "You might want to go turn that off," he added conversationally, "unless you'd like to tango." The question wasn't actually that much of a joke-- hell, he was already awake, might as well dance despite the pain, but he added a wry smile just because it struck him as funny. In a somewhat masochistic way, considering the fact that he'd probably have to be the girl and his back was not in good condition for spinning, dipping, or sashaying.

[Ariel Foxworth Mallory]

“For a few seconds,” Ave grinned, and Fox couldn’t help but grin in return. “Sorry, again, about the—well, you know. Are you ill? Or dehydrated?” Fox tried to find a word to say, but nothing was coming to him, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his skin radiated a neon-coloured red. “You’re blushi—oh. Oh. Apologies, I didn’t mean to freak you out with my—” It relieved Fox a little that his fellow Rent fan appeared to be flustered as well – he wasn’t alone! “No need to apologise, I mean I didn’t mind really, it wasn’t… that is, it was fine. Yes. Fine and good.” Fine and good? Fox thought to himself, Get a grip, boy! Ave continued, “Sorry, I’m not usually this infernally… I’m generally a very loquacious person.” Blinking, Fox made a face that said, "what-the-hell-is-that?" while muttering, “Lowhashis?”

"Eh…" Fox replied to Ave’s inquiry, “Well, honestly, it’s short for my middle name, which is much more tolerable when shortened to Fox.” He scratched his head a moment, and was surprised that the words had come so easily – not even one stammer! Fox was proud of himself for once. A barking laugh emanated from Fox’s abdomen at Avery’s comment on his moniker, and he admitted, “The Mallorys are not quite akin to the Phoenixs – I’m an only child, actually – but Fox is a better alternative than my first name. Thankfully, you aren’t in the best position to attempt to drag it out of me either.” Fox finished with a wink in his acquaintance’s direction. “Three out of five ain’t good,” Ave seemingly teased, “But I suppose it will have to do.” Ave was right – though Fox thought his comment was adorably cute, especially his usage of ain’t, as the incorrect grammar sounded odd coming from his lips – he didn’t catch the reference. A smile crept upon Fox’s face without his knowledge, and when he realised it was there it made him smile all the more.

“It’s nice to have bumped into well not quite bumped but met you too, Fox,” Avery jabbed, “Also, I think I’m all better. Or. At least, able to support myself.” Wow, Fox thought, That was quick. For some reason Fox found himself a little disappointed to break contact with the brunette, but he cautiously supported him a tad less in attempt to let Avery test his strength. Tango Maureen began to vibrate through the house, causing Fox to sigh slightly as he watched Avery with caution. Round three, he thought and looked at Ave when he said, “You might want to go turn that off.” Fox nodded, though tonight had certainly been an adventure, it was later than late by this time.

He was about to wander to the laptop when he heard Ave utter, “Unless you’d like to tango.” Fox raised an eyebrow, was he serious or was he being facetious? “I don’t actually... know how to tango,” Fox admitted ruefully, “Do you?” He asked, curiosity dripping from his words. He kind of hoped that he did, as he wouldn’t mind learning how to do so himself. Frankly, Fox was beginning to believe that if the folks around here hadn’t woke by now then they were either dead (meaning he could go home sometime soon) or they were insanely sound sleepers. What could it hurt? He wasn’t about to admit he was willing to tango, however, until he determined if Ave was serious.

Fox took in Ave's features and smiled awkwardly as he awaited his reply.

[Avery Kenneth Emerson]

"Loquacious," Ave repeated, momentarily wondering if in his somewhat panicky state he'd forgotten a vocabulary. "Verbose. Articulate. Garrulous, voluble, wordy?" Ave made a vague hand motion that was apparently supposed to illustrate his point, though all it really did was manage to throw him slightly off-balance and push him harder against Fox.

"What's your middle name?" Ave coaxed; he had a strange neuroses that compelled him to learn peoples full names; it might have come from a tendancy to call people by their surnames that ran in his family, or the fact that he had several unfortunate cousins who went by their middle names and middle names only. "Mallorys? So you have a surname, then," he interjected, smiling momentarily before his mouth was twisted into a petulant moué. "Well, now I want to know what your first name is," Ave said indignantly. "You can't say something like that and then expect me not to ask-- it's just not acceptable. Though in good state to coax I may not be." Ave found himself smiling like an utter idiot at Fox's near-grin, curiously intoxicated by Fox's inherent simplicity and straddling the line between laughing with him and laughing at him.

Ave stumbled slightly as Fox pulled away, not expecting the blond to retreat that quickly-- figured, he probably wasn't that comfortable with male contact-- but caught his balance quickly. Years of swimming injuries had built up his endurance, after all, regardless of how petulant he might act about said injuries. Ave pulled back the rest of the way, pausing unsteadily for a moment before throwing up his hands and grinning victoriously. "I'm cured! Or--" he grimaced, bringing his right arm down and gripping his shoulder with his other hand "--ow, alright, mostly cured." He rubbed his shoulder for a moment before remembering Fox existed and flashing a brief smile. "Your assistance is much appreciated, my gallant knight," he half-teased, a real thank-you lost somewhere in the snark.

Ave cocked an eyebrow at the inquiry. "Of course I do. What kind of rich kid do you think I am? Ballroom tango, admittedly, but that's the only kind worth learning unless you're sexy and Hispanic, of which I am neither. Although considering the state of my back, and the fact that I am much shorter than you and would likely have to be the girl, ie the one who does all the fancy spins and turns and bendy things, I probably have the proficiency of... well.. you. At this point, at least."

[Ariel Foxworth Mallory]

||It’s a dark, dizzy merry-go-round.||

In the recent past, Fox had felt relatively secure in his intelligence. Tonight, however, challenged his belief in that arena. His eyes widened as Ave attempted to define “loquacious” for him. Verbose sounded familiar, and though Fox offered a weak smile followed by a nod, he wasn’t entirely sure. Articulate, now there was a word he could grasp onto and start to… garrulous? What on earth was garrulous? Fox blinked a moment and was about to ask when… voluble? Fox had the sinking feeling that Avery had not mispronounced, “valuable.” As Ave arrived at ‘wordy,’ he immediately perked as if to say, ‘Ah! I know that one!’ Before Fox could get any words of his own to erupt from his mouth, Ave gestured and fell even further into Fox than he already was previously. Fox found that he didn’t mind, and whispered slightly, “What would be a –” Fox stumbled over his next word, “Loquacious term for, ‘oops?”

As Ave asked him his middle name, Fox countered, “What’s yours?” He threw out his tongue playfully in the other boy’s direction, though Fox genuinely expected an answer to the question. While the moniker ‘Fox’ was acceptable to him, he was never really fond of ‘Foxworth.’ He sometimes seriously wondered what his parents were thinking when they named him. “Mallorys?” So you have a surname, then,” Ave said. Fox nodded, he didn’t really mind his last name all that much. “Doesn’t everybody?” Fox asked with grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Well, now I want to know what your first name is,” Ave said, to which Fox shook his head in denial profusely. Avery continued, “You can’t say something like that and then expect me not to ask – it’s just not acceptable. Though in good state to coax I may not be.” Fox smiled at him, eyes enlarged innocently in awe while giggling, “You know, you sound so much like Yoda, it’s adorable.” When in doubt – change the subject! Fox found himself grinning so much it almost hurt – he was actually enjoying himself.

||Has she ever pouted her lips and called you, “Pookie?”||

Fox noticed Avery stumble and moved to support him again, but the other boy pulled back farther and after a moment announced, “I’m cured! Or – ow, alright, mostly cured.” Fox looked him over cautiously – he seemed to be supporting his own weight okay – and not wobbling… too much. “Perhaps you should have a seat?” Fox offered, abandoning his notions of a tango. “Or maybe we should take you somewhere to be looked at?” Avery didn’t seem like he would go willingly, but Fox was beginning to think it might be a good idea. “Your assistance is much appreciated, my gallant knight,” Avery said with a brief smile. “Any time, my delicate damsel.” Fox teased, flashing teeth awkwardly in a smile.

“Of course I do. What kind of rich kid do you think I am?” Avery responded in answer to Fox’s tango-inquiry. Fox thought a moment… he was fairly well-off himself, though he didn’t know how to tango. Then again, given his upbringing, it was hardly surprising. Fox had to suppress a chuckle, as even Avery’s brutal honesty made him blush a little, “I probably have the proficiency of… well… you. At this point, at least.” Fox blinked a moment, and despite that statement, he had to correct Avery from an earlier part of his diatribe. “You may not be Hispanic, Ave,” Fox cooed, “But you shouldn’t speak so quickly about sexy.”

Fox immediately hoped that he hadn’t just made a ginormous fool out of himself.

||You should try it in heels!||

[Avery Kenneth Emerson]

"Learned. Or sophisticated. Not loquacious, I mean, that's the improper use of the word, you're very patient aren't you?" Avery smiled, more to himself than anything, as he regained the meager semblance of balance he'd had before he'd decided to gesture vaguely and throw off his center of gravity. "And I should think 'oops' would suffice, although I'm more the type to say 'blast and double damn'. That's just the anglophile in me, though."

"Ah, ah, not telling until you tell me yours. I have leverage in the situation, you see, and with the proper leverage I will find out your full name. It's simply inevitable." Ave wrinkled his nose as Fox stuck out his tongue, rolling his eyes and making an exaggeratedly grossed out face. "Ah, not everyone. There are some cultures where surnames are superfluous. Also, strippers." He nodded sagely, grimacing through a smile at the Yoda comparison. "I would take that as a compliment, but telling me I sound like a small green sock puppet isn't really the most flattering thing I've heard all day." Ave tugged a lock of hair behind his ear. "And adorable's not exactly what I was aiming for, but I suppose it works. Hopefully not adorable in the way small, stupid puppies are? That would be utterly... depressing."

"Seat sounds good," Ave replied, completely ignoring Fox's proposed alternative and looking around him. He limped over to and flopped down on one of the numberous overstuffed scarlet loveseats in the living area, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and sinking into its morbidly obese cushions. "Delicate damsel my shattered left shin," Ave snorted, "I'll have you know I'm manly." He said this with a very serious look on his face, and managed to keep it for almost ten seconds before grinning and cover his face with the hand that wasn't slung over the back of the couch, stifling a self-deprecating giggle.

Ave had closed his eyes and had his head tilted back, listening to the song and idly wondering if Fox was still going over to turn it off, when Fox spoke again. Ave paused for a moment, then grinned without opening his eyes. "Are you hitting on me? Because that's funny. And kinda cute." He rubbed his shoulder, running a hand through his hair idly. "Not usually the way I go about it, but to each their own. Your music is still on."

[Ariel Foxworth Mallory]

||Dance a tango to hell!||

“I was attempting to be facetious,” Fox explained, purposely using the biggest word he could think of to toss at the smaller boy. However, if he had to be entirely honest, he really didn’t have a good grasp on what ‘loquacious’ actually meant as of yet. This Avery Emerson certain wasn’t predictable, that was for sure. Unpredictability scared Fox a little, but at times it could be a good thing – it livened life, right? Besides, this was the first time he had felt anything even resembling content since he arrived at Lakeside Valley, and he found himself rather reluctant to part with that feeling.

He shot Ave a small, mock scowl. “Oh, will you?” Fox asked, and now that he was becoming more comfortable around Avery he found himself stumbling less. “I am perfectly content knowing your first and last name; I don’t need to know your middle name.” Fox said matter-of-factly. “Therefore your leverage, my acquaintance, is null. That being the case, I don’t see how you could coerce me into revealing my name.” Fox was rather proud of himself for how eloquently his words presented themselves – he felt his glaring blondeness dull slightly and beamed a bit too happily at the thought. That is, until Avery countered his statement regarding surnames, causing Fox to frown slightly in frustration. “Like Cher?” He offered, tracing his lips with a fingertip.

||Gotta dance till your diva is through!||

At the mention of sock puppets, Fox replied, “Ah, but I doubt it wasn’t the least flattering either!” Blinking a moment, he realised what he had just said and stammered, “Erm, noooo – I didn’t mean – that is to say that I… I only mean that it wasn’t – but I just… oy.” Just when he had felt cool, calm, and collected – he had blown it. At Ave’s question regarding his manner of adorableness, Fox attempted to regain his composure, running a hand through his hair tiredly while he tried to suppress a yawn. He offered, “It’s the non-depressing kind of adorable?”

Fox breathed a little easier once Ave took a seat upon one of the loveseats. He would have preferred Ave taking the other option, but whatever the smaller boy thought was best for himself Fox would certainly accept. At Ave’s seemingly serious insistence that he was manly, Fox simply nodded and noticed when the boy clasped a hand over his mouth – though he couldn’t tell if he was giggling or yawning. Either way, it made another smile creep over Fox’s features. He stared at Avery a moment and decided he seemed like a pretty cool guy – he was glad to have met him, even under these less than ideal circumstances.

||Why do we love when she’s mean?||

He continued to watch him as Tango Maureen played in the background. Fox’s back straightened in recognition, and he nearly dashed to the laptop again before – “Are you hitting on me?” Ave asked, “Because that’s funny. And kinda cute.” Busted, Fox thought. It was silly, it was stupid, he shouldn’t have done it – he had bumbled yet again, made fool out of himself and… cute? Wait, did he say cute? “Not usually the way I go about it, but to each their own.” Ave admitted, and at his reminder that the music was still on Fox muttered, “Crap.” He dashed to the laptop, expeditiously seating himself in his chair as he hit the mute button out of reflex, plunging them into silence. Fox blinked a moment, jerking his head back and feeling mighty dim. He was missing something. Shouldn’t that have been harder?

Fox thought about Ave's previous comment and asked, “How do you usually go about it?” He caught himself quickly, “Not like that’s what I was doing,” Fox lied, chomping down on a fingernail nervously – he was such a pitiful liar it was almost sick. “Do you always think people are hitting on you when they gift you a compliment?” Fox asked a little defensively, wondering if it sounded like a convincing question. He decided to cover by asking something else, “So, why is someone as seemingly collected as you are stuck at Lakeside Valley anyway?” Fox blinked, that wasn’t really the brightest thing to ask – because then Fox would likely have to provide an answer for the same question.

Forget what you’ve heard about green. It’s not easy being blonde.

[Avery Kenneth Emerson]

"In that case, you failed abysmally," Avery replied with a somewhat inane smile, managing not to be completely cruel about the whole thing. He'd been smiling for ten minutes straight, at this point, a facial expression his muscles weren't used to; he felt like his lovely visage might split in two if he kept it any longer.

"I will," he replied with a savagely determined nod. "I took all my senior finals on the same day to go to the swimming state finals, I can certainly find out your middle name, Fox Mallory. " He twisted an imaginary moustache diabolically. "And I have my ways," he added with a slight and almost unnoticeable leer. He snorted at the mention of the diva, rolling his eyes. "If you insist on being unbearably pop culture about it, then yes, like Cher, although that's an implication that Cher is a stripper and that's a mental image that even Clorox won't remove."

Avery smiled collectedly as Fox shattered a bit, shrugging. "I'd take offense, but I'm something like infallible, ineffable, and without flaw, so I can't say I get any unflattering comments made in my general direction. At least I wasn't found comprable to Jar Jar Binks. I may have been forced to shoot myself. Commit seppuku. Listen to a Kelly Clarkson album -- twice." He peered at Fox as he bit back a yawn. "Don't stifle yawns, it's unhealthy; it's better to get the pandiculation out and over with. Tired?"

The silence made him flinch as if it were a loud noise; he'd gotten used to the euphonous backdrop to their conversation, and the lack of noise made him feel as though he were supposed to say something. Fox cut in first; sighing dramatically, Avery pulled himself to his feet, limping so comically he was rather obviously not in substantial pain anymore. He rolled his eyes as Fox stammered an explanation and sidled up to Fox as best he could, considering the fact that the other boy was seated. He looked around for a moment before turning to Fox completely, demeanor changing completely.

"Okay," he started, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and letting his fingers settle on his jawline idly, "I came over here to ask you to go out with me, but I'm kind of concerned." He shifted onto one hip. "I mean, we could hit it off really well, end up having a few drinks, next thing you know you're giving me your number because I'm too modest to ask for it, I finally get the resolve call and we go to a ridiculous romantic comedy, have some dinner, I relax, you relax, we go out a few more times, get to know each other's friends, spend a lot of time together," Avery paused for air, running a hand through his hair. As he rambled somewhat inanely he shifted almost imperceptibly towards Fox, his words proving an acceptable distraction, "then finally get past this ridiculous sexual tension and develop this intense sex life that is truly incredible, decide our relationship is solid and stable, so we move in together for a while, then a few months later get married, I get a promotion, you get a promotion, we buy a bigger house."

Avery pushed his hair back again, putting a hand on Fox's shoulder. By this point he was very nearly in Fox's lap, leaning his other elbow on one of the arms of the chair. "You really want kids, but I really want freedom, but we adopt a kid anyway, only to find that I am resentful, the sparks start to fade and to rekindle them we acquire two more lovely kids, but now I work too much to keep up with the bills, have no time for you, you're stressed and stop taking really good care of yourself, so to get past our slow sex life and my declining self-confidence I turn to an outside affair for sexual gratification. You find out because I'm careless and an admittedly pathetic liar, you throw me out -- justifiably so -- and we have to eludicate to the children why daddy and, ah, daddy are going their seperate ways."

By this point well beyond the boundaries of personal space, Avery shook his head mournfully, as if he had just prophesized their entire relationship. "That's just too sad. I mean, think of the children. For God's sake," he continued, by now on leaning forward toes to whisper conspiratorilly into Fox's ear, "if you go out with me and we hit it off, let's just keep it purely sexual, because we both know where it's going." Avery leaned into Fox, half to enhance the effect and half because his legs felt like they were about to give out (and half because Fox just sort of smelled nice), leaning back suddenly and keeping his hand on Fox's shoulder.

"I think I need to sit down," he said abruptly, half-stumbling backwards and deciding that sitting awkwardly at Fox's feet was a preferable alternative to dragging himself over to the loveseat. Apparently, he wasn't as healed as he had thought; his shin flared with pain, and Avery rubbed his temples, groaning. "It's my second year and at this point I'm here for the hell of it," he replied. "I'm the Allison of this little Breakfast Club. And that makes you, what, Andy?" He realized the innuendo a little after he'd spoken, but shrugged it off. "Or a Brian, whichever. Does my shin look swollen? Life threateningly, I mean, I cant see well from this angle." He tapped his lower lip. "So what are you in for?"

[Ariel Foxworth Mallory]

“Abysmally?” Fox asked. “You use so many big words, Ave.” Fox bit his lip in thought for a minute, attempting to decide how much he should tell Avery. He didn’t want anyone to know his first name – Ariel – but he wasn’t as opposed to his full middle name being revealed. Maybe Avery would let it go at that? “My middle name is Foxworth. Happy?” Fox asked, running a few fingertips through his hair. “Your turn; I supplied my middle name, now what’s yours, Mr. Emerson?” Fox wiggled his eyebrows in mirth, adoring the sound of a ‘Mr’ attached to Ave’s surname. It was so cute. He continued, “Also, I can’t help but wonder… what ‘ways’ could you possibly have had to persuade me anyway?”

Fox bit his tongue, fully intent on ceasing the chuckle which threatened to pound through his lungs at Avery’s snort. He didn’t tend to snort – even when he laughed or scoffed – but it entertained him when others did so. “Please. Cher has a killer body for… um… a grandmother?” Fox blinked, wrinkling his nose at the thought. Yes, that was definitely a mental image that even Clorox wouldn’t remove. He wasn’t entirely sure that Cher was a grandmother, but she was old enough to be one.

As Avery claimed flawlessness, Fox suppressed a giggle as he heard mention of Jar Jar Binks. He knew some people just couldn’t stand the character, and it appeared that Ave was one of them. Not knowing exactly what ‘seppuku’ was, Fox gave a blank stare before Avery reached Kelly Clarkson, perking as he crooned, “A moment like th-” Fox stopped himself in mid-note, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze to Avery. He hated singing in front of people, but he decided not to beat himself up for the slip. It wasn’t like he erupted into much of an aria – he merely quoted a few words of lyric. “Pandicuwhattion?” Fox bumbled, and he flirted with the idea of carrying around a pocket dictionary just incase he happened to bump into Avery after this.

Fox watched intently as Avery lifted himself and made his way to the chair in which Fox sat. He wanted to ensure that Ave could handle himself okay and that he wouldn’t spontaneously collapse or something equally as dramatic. Avery turned to him and Fox’s jaw hung agape – did Avery just ask him out? But he didn’t even know Ave, how was he to know that he wasn’t some lunatic who… wait, he was concerned? Fox moved his mouth to ask why, but before sound sprouted from his lips, Avery shifted onto a hip and began to explain further as Fox tried to keep up.

Even as Avery took a moment to collect his breath, Fox found himself without words and kept opening and closing his mouth in attempt to make some form of sound escape his lips. Fox’s eyes had long been as wide as a doe’s in headlights, and he fidgeted as he finally found something acceptable to say. However, before he could utter the precious words he had found, they quickly vanished into air as Avery continued his speech. Fox gulped audibly as Avery mentioned the sexual tension, and then… wait, sex life? Sex? Whahuhwha? Moving in together? Getting married – was that even legal?! Promotions? HOUSES? Sex?!

Avery inched closer to him, and Fox’s breathing erupted rapidly from his lungs as he began to register just how close he and Avery were to one another. "K-k-kids?" Fox mumbled almost inaudibly as Avery continued on and on and on. He found himself flaming for a moment – Avery would have an AFFAIR?! How could he do such a… wait. Fox shook his head, clearly flustered and trying to collect his thoughts. What was he saying? This wasn’t making any sense! Eludicate? What was Eludicate? And why would they do it to children?

Fox huffed for air as Avery mentioned keeping their relationship purely sexual, and gulped again as Ave leaned into him. His eyes flickered left and right, as if it was difficult to focus them properly, and Fox took a couple deep breaths to calm himself down. He finally managed to focus his eyes as Avery sat at his feet, and his brain buzzed repeatedly – what-the-hell-was-that?! He shut his eyes as realisation hit him like a mac truck – forget about blonde, he was sure his hair was stark white by this time. He had asked Avery how he went about hitting on someone, and he fidgeted at the thought, bumping his keyboard as he hoped he hadn't hit the unmute button. Fox swallowed before stumbling, “Very ef-effective.” He peered down at Ave, allowing a moment to pass before asking, “Are you okay?”

His breath evened, and Fox managed a smile at Ave’s mention of the Breakfast Club. He loved that movie, though he couldn’t really identify with any single character. He wasn’t as brainy as Brian, wasn’t quite as brawny as Andrew, or stereotypically popular as Claire. Thinking for a minute, Fox joined Avery where he sat and took a look at his ankle before finally offering, “Andy with a twist?” He inspected Ave’s ankle, but he couldn’t really tell much from the dim lighting. “I can’t really see it very well,” Fox admitted honestly, looking up at Ave as he asked why Fox was at Lakeside Valley.

Immediately, Fox turned his head from Avery – what was he supposed to say to that? "Oh, I’m in for rehabilitation – I’m addicted to sexual feelings toward other men.” He didn’t think that would be quite appropriate. He bit his lip and tried to think of something suitable to say, but in the end he decided to tell a half-truth. “Corrective rehabilitation,” Fox provided. “Maybe I’m the John Bender of this little Breakfast Club?” Even Fox rolled his eyes a little at the thought – he should’ve just stuck with ‘corrective rehabilitation,’ and let it go at that. He just had to try to be witty. He withheld a sigh, hoping that Ave wouldn’t pry deeper – but he knew by now that Lady Luck just was not on his side tonight.