Boarding school (Yare and BloodletLove)

[Yare]

So we've decided to do a boarding school, right? Here's my character.

Name: James Smythe
Species: Human
Age: Sixteen
Sex: Male
Appearence: Black hair, parted on the left and his bangs hanging over his brown eyes;has a small silver medallion (somewhat corroded with age) on a silver chain around his neck with his family crest on the front and his name and his parent's names on the back.
Background: James was playing one day when he was two when he slipped near an open window, and fell. The fall didn't kill him, but left him paralysed, and changed his whole life. Suddenly worried for him, his parents kept him indoors, home schooling him and hiring a nurse for him. Their work took them out a lot, and James saw them only sparingly throughout his life.
It wasn't long before James got bored with his life, and began to rebel. One day, when he was sixteen, he signed himself up for school without telling anyone else and demanded he be let out. His nurse let him go grudgingly, but noticed a marked improvement in his behaviour.

[BloodletLove]

We're both doing guys, right? I forgot.

[Yare]

Yep, I just checked. You chose guy ^-^

[BloodletLove]

OK, then, I will post my profile, then.

Name: Derrick Lang
Species: Half-Demon, ages at human rates
Age: Seventeen
Sex: Male
Appearance: Shaggy reddish-blond hair that hangs to the bottom of his shoulderblades. Icy blue eyes with gold flecks that look like fire. Tall, skinny, looks like the average human beanpole boy.
Background: Derrick's father, an ice demon, raped his mother, and she got pregnant and had him. When he was really little, the demon in him would shine through - horns, wings, and a tail. These features have since disappeared, and the only indication of his half-demon heritage is the color and nature of his eyes. When he's angry, the gold flecks will flash bright as anything, and usually something will freeze over. Most likely Hell, because he doesn't get angry often. His mother was never around. She signed him up for boarding school to get him - and his powers - out of her hair. He hates her for it.

[Yare]

That's cool, but we said we'd do a realistic one.

[BloodletLove]

Oh, right...sorry, spacing. Tired. I ought to do it tomorrow...when I can think straight...

[Yare]

Okay.

[BloodletLove]

Ah, and today, I live. (My brain's fried, and my teeth are throbbing on top of it, but at least I can think.)

Name: Derrick Lang
Species: Human
Age: Seventeen
Sex: Male
Appearance: Shaggy reddish-blond hair that hangs to the bottom of his shoulderblades. Icy blue eyes with gold flecks that look like fire. Tall, skinny, looks like the average human beanpole boy.
Background: Derrick's father raped his mother, and she got pregnant and had him. When he was really little, he was very much the problem child, throwing tantrums and destroying things. These qualities have all but disappeared, and he has a very slight criminal record, but is set on keeping himself clean for the rest of his life. When he's angry, the gold flecks will flash like fire, and Hell will freeze over because of the rarity of his full-on bursts of anger. His mother was never around. She signed him up for boarding school to get him - and his behavior - out of her hair. He hates her for it, and will likely never forgive her for the abuse she gave him when he was a child.

[Yare]

Teeth throbbing? You seen a dentist yet?

But that character sounds nice, so I'll make my post. Glad you're feeling better

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The wheelchair was generally the first thing people noticed. It was, he noted bitterly, his most distinct feature, if an acquired one.

The second thing people noticed was his accent - soft, and English, which lead people to ask the rather obvious "So you're from England?" as a way of distracting themselves from his wheelchair.

James didn't know what the third thing they noticed was. People didn't usually talk to him much after that.

Books had been somewhat deceptive about that. The main character would start off at a new school, and by the end of the day would have as many good friends as they needed to get through the story. It had been three days. People didn't tend to speak to him a second time.

James was sitting at the front of class. The desk he was at was the only one that didn't have a chair attached, so he'd had no choice but to sit there. He was in Math, his favourite subject. He was very good at math, though currently the rest of the class didn't know it.

The teacher had a question up on the board, a long and complicated one that the class had been trying to solve for ten minutes. James already knew the answer. He always knew the answer.

'Doesn't anyone know?' the teacher pleaded. 'Are you telling me nobody can figure this out?'

James decided he might as well speak up. 'It's forty-nine,' he said.

The teacher stared at him. James didn't even have a piece of paper out.

[BloodletLove]

(I saw my orthodontist yesterday, and she's the reason my teeth are throbbing. Damn braces.)

"Look at those eyes!"
Derrick heard it everywhere he went, usually followed by, "God, that hair!" The first two things people noticed about him were his unusual eyes and his abnormally long hair. And the fact that his hair was an extremely odd shade of red-blond. He attracted attention because he was attractive. Usually, though, it was only because of his attractiveness. Not the scar running down the length of his forearm. Not his abnormal eloquence with words. Not his odd fetish for writing. His looks, the least important thing to him.

And now, sitting in math class, the whispers surrounded him and deafened him.
"Man, look at those eyes!"
"And that hair!"
"Must be contacts."
"And a dye job."
"God that's unfair!"
And then, out of nowhere, the kid in the front of the class said, without paper or a calculator, the answer to the problem on the board. He was impressed - the kid was usually so quiet, and never said anything, just went through his day getting ignored because of his wheelchair. It was unfair. He didn't deserve that treatment. Derrick decided that once class ended, he'd take the initiative and talk to him. Two outsiders. Seemed fitting enough.

[Yare]

(Wow. My dentist says I need braces, but I can't get them yet because of a few different things.)

James could feel eyes on him, and noticed the teacher glance at him occasionally throughout the remainder of the lesson. He deliberately didn't look around or acknowledge these glances, and for the last half of the class he very deliberately did his homework. He didn't have to show his work, which made it go faster. He finished just a few minutes before class did.

It was hard for James to get out when everyone else did, so he pushed his wheelchair away from the desk and waited for the rest of the class to leave.

[BloodletLove]

(I got them over a year ago and they're a beotch.)

Derrick grabbed his stuff, including a personal notebook full of short stories and poems that he'd written himself, when the class ended and made his way to the front of the room, stopping at the boy's desk who'd answered the question before.
"Hi," he said. "I'm Derrick." He extended his hand, the arm with the scar - he was right-handed, and the scar was on his right hand, so...he couldn't really hide the rope-like scar his mother had given him. Bread knives left ropey scars like that, he'd found out the hard way. Arm wounds bleed a lot, too, as he'd also found out, especially if you hit the right veins, as his mother had done. He didn't really care about that, though, it was in his past, and the past was easier to leave behind if it hurt.

[Yare]

(Damn, that sucks.)

James, surprised, took Derrick's hand. 'James Smythe,' he said. He glanced at the scar, but didn't comment - he didn't like being defined by a physical feature and so didn't do it to peers. He hesitated slightly - James wasn't sure how to carry on a conversation from this point.

[BloodletLove]

(Yeah, it definitely does.)

Derrick smiled. "It's nice to meet you, James," he said. "I noticed that you answered that math problem without writing out any equations or anything. I'm impressed. How'd you do it?" He ran a hand through his hair, through its full length of red-blond strands. Such an odd color combination, and yet, it suited him just fine. He didn't look at the wheelchair. He didn't see a disability. He saw a person, an average person, who was really smart and probably a nice guy.

[Yare]

James thought a moment, trying to answer. '...Normally,' he said. 'That's all I can say. I go through the normal steps for solving an equation - just in my head, and apparently rather fast.'