On The Other Side

It had been a couple of days yet Roscoe’s utter hatred of this place hadn’t ceased. He couldn’t even remember hating Hadley as much as he hated this place. That familiar feeling in the back of his neck that he was being watched was more prominent now and it truly felt like he had no privacy... not even in areas that he felt he should have privacy such as the bathroom or his dorm room. It left him uncomfortable to do simple things such as change and have a shower but he did so anyway, but not while thinking to himself what kind of life is this? What kind of life was this where he was constantly uncomfortable in the place he was meant to sleep? Hell he didn’t remember hating his home quite this much... but when he thought about this island it was only to think about how much the loathed it and it constantly put him on an edge that he was begging to find an outlet for. But instead... he would distract his mind.

Going for a walk around the facility or the grounds would provide him something else to think about and so he just let himself explore around his new... home while trying not to think about how much he hated this place. It was the only thing that stopped him from going around and trashing everything in sight, after all. Thinking of other things that calmed him, the first thing he thought of was his motorbike... something he would probably never be reunited with again and that truly saddened him. The second was his friends... he never thought he would have lost contact with them as much as he had and while he knew that he may not always remember to write or have the time... well... he thought that they would’ve tried harder than that. But he supposed he couldn’t really blame Ellen for not writing back if the letter he had written to her all that time ago had actually gone through. Though he doubted he did. But he hadn’t been thinking when he had written that, he had been confused and angry and guilty and... Upset, yes he had been upset and now he didn’t even know whether his best friends were still as such anymore.

So who did that leave him with? Well, for the most part no one... he didn’t really think he had made any lasting friendships here. There was Blake but her eighteenth had come and gone and so had she, and with all the moving it had left them little time to say goodbye to one another. There was also Mariah, but he hadn’t seen her in a while but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t left an impact on him in a big way. Yes, something about the mousy brunette allowed him to be calmer, softer even... like he had been with Ellen but it was different somehow though he didn’t quite know what to make of it. All he knew was that he found himself greatly caring about her and wanting her to like him. Roscoe had never actually wanted someone to like him before and yet he wanted Mariah to like him... he wanted to be worthy of being her friend but he didn’t even know where to start. As he continued to walk around the outside of the grounds he noticed that the look of the beach that surrounded part of the area reminded him a little of Los Angeles and that only made him feel that much more homesick...

Roscoe turned his head and saw a petite little blonde sitting down on the grounds drawing. Roscoe had never really been an artistic soul but he had always been interested in people who were, instruments, singing and visual art... it was one of those things he found fascinating watching other people do while he knew he couldn’t himself. So naturally he couldn’t help his curiosity as he walked over to the blonde and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “That’s an interesting drawing you’ve got there... have you been doing that for long?” He wondered if she took requests, because if so, he might just have an idea...

Just one day had passed since Ellen's last meeting with Nate, so it was hardly a surprise that she couldn't get him out of her head. The ink he'd covered her torso with had barely faded, and the scratches, well, she was amazed at just how much they stung. The red lines still covered her pale skin too, and idly, she wondered which would last longer. As painful as the scratches were right now, she wouldn't hesitate for a second if she ran into Nate again today, assuming they could stay out of the way of Doctor Bjorgen at least. She'd felt so amazing when he'd been putting the marks onto her skin, so much like she actually mattered, she'd do anything to get that feeling back.

Not wanting to run into the doctor again, she wasn't sat under the same tree. She did make sure she could see yesterday's spot from her new patch of shade though, in case Nate came looking for her. Clad in her usual jeans and pink hoodie, she'd settled down on the grass again, and got on with another piece of art. The night before, with the aid of a couple of mirrors, she'd copied Nate's designs into her sketchbook, and now she was redrawing them all, onto her usual mousegirl avatar. It was yet another topless piece, but there was nothing new about that. She was drawing front and back views though, so it wasn't all porn, that was a good thing, right? So what if the mouse was only wearing a skirt?

Smiling, she put the finishing touches to the front view, and started on the back. Hopefully, she'd be able to add to all of this soon, if she could ever bring herself to wear her skirt anyway. Neva had given her one, a long time ago, a nice, pink one from the lost and found bin in Hadley's infirmary. The only problem was getting over the vulnerability she always felt when she wore things like that, not to mention the revulsion at the thought of showing off her fat legs. People would talk, and she'd hate that. Shaking her head at the thought, she blinked a couple of times and got on with the drawing. That was the important thing right now, getting her piece finished.

Just as she was drawing on the last of the scratches, she heard a voice, and almost jumped out of her skin. This wasn't Nate, she didn't know who this boy was. Hurriedly, she flipped to a blank page, looking nervously up at him. Interesting? that usually meant terrible, didn't it? frowning a little, she nodded, not wanting to speak too much just yet. "Can I help you?" she asked, clueless as to who the boy was and what he wanted. requests weren't something she'd ever really considered, but...maybe she would take them, if people had anything to trade for them. Just what she'd want was a mystery though, but, well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it, as if such a thing would ever happen.

Hazel eyes stared curiously at the drawing of a mouse with patterns along its back taking shape. It really was quite an interesting design and Roscoe had wondered where she drew inspiration for things like that from. In fact he felt as if he would be quite content to just sit there and watch her draw in total silence despite how creepy it would seem. But he appeared to have made the wrong move by speaking as the young girl automatically panicked and flipped the page over to a blank space and looked up at Roscoe with startlingly blue eyes. Apart from how skinny and frail the girl looked –and he most likely added that up to her having some sort of eating disorder- he couldn’t help but notice how blue her eyes were, clear and lucid like swimming pool water. Eyes were something that he tended to notice quite a bit, he found out, it was proclaimed to be the window to the soul after all. Perhaps that was why a certain pair of brown orbs popped up into his mind once in a while.

When she asked if he could help him Roscoe gave a light nod and cleared his throat. “Excuse me...” he looked at her awkwardly, damn his social ineptness, and began shifting from foot to foot again. “It really was a good drawing, you have an exceptional talent there...” he decided that he would sit down on the grass with her to make himself seem less imposing, plus he was getting a little tired of standing and shifting perhaps if he was sitting down then he wouldn’t be so restless but he knew that wouldn’t be the case anyway. “Would you be willing to draw something for me?” He paused for a moment before adding “I mean it’s okay if you don’t want you as you don’t seem to like people seeing your work. That’s okay, I just thought I’d ask,” he waited patiently for her answer, whatever it would be whilst trying to think of pictures that Mariah would like.

A fairy, perhaps? Or a unicorn or a butterfly? She struck him as someone who would like pretty things, sweet, pretty, girly things not that Roscoe knew much about that sort of thing to be honest. He only knew what he had been able to pick up from hanging out with girls of all different personalities. Would she even like a drawing? Would she think less of him for it not being drawn by him? Roscoe was starting to feel inferior, that wasn’t a rarity for the boy as he truly was just filled with feelings of inferiority and self-hatred but he had never really let another person make him feel that way before. Especially someone whom he had known for such a short time, Roscoe wondered if it was simply because he was lonely and that she had been the only one still at the facility who remotely seemed interested in being his friend. He felt like he owed her something for that, even though she didn’t know who he truly was and why he was here. What would she think of him then? Why was he agonizing about this so much?

((OOC: I'm sorry, I totally missed this thread!))

As the boy spoke, Ellen squirmed. She wasn't used to compliments, even when Nate gave them they were still new and strange to her, from a stranger they were just downright uncomfortable. She had no idea what he'd want from her now, but knowing her luck, it wouldn't be good. In her experience, contact with strangers rarely was, they almost invariably wanted something from her for nothing in return. Only Nate and Neva had done otherwise, so it wasn't much of a surprise that she was not expecting good things from this boy. As he continued though, her expression changed. Suspicion turned to confusion. He wanted what? A drawing? that was it?

"I..." she began, her voice quiet. "What sort of something?" she continued, shuffling a little way back from him as he sat down. She still didn't trust him, not in the slightest, but if he wanted art..."Who is it going to be for?" she added, closing her eyes for a moment, and looking back down at the blank page when she opened them again. Was there even any point in asking for something in exchange for a drawing? If the boy was ward A, like her, the chances were he didn't even have anythign to trade, but...maybe he had contacts she didn't. Maybe she could use him to get herself more of the stuff Nate wanted her to wear? It wasn't like she could just walk out to the store after all.

"What..." she began, looking up from the page, "If I draw this for you, what will you do for me?" she continued, her voice little more than a whisper. She'd probably draw whatever it was he wanted regardless of any form of payment, but still, she could always try, right? If she could get something pretty out of it, something Nate would like to see her in, this would be well worth it! Of course, that was asking a lot for a simple drawing, but...well, there had to be something. Hell, at this point, she'd probably trade it for a hug and be happy if he wasn't willing or able to get her anything pretty, but whatever he offered, she was intending to do her best with the drawing. hopefully, it wouldn't be too far from the fantasy and furry art she usually drew.