life-from-art:

Addie’s hues slid away from his form, settling on the miniscule details of the way her cardigan was woven. “I’ll consider it. For the moment you are just going to have to suffer my intolerable company, and I yours. We both know I’m privy to the risk I run sitting here, or the risk I’ve run every day I’ve been at your side. I’ll take my chances for the time being.” Azure voids settled back onto his raven-haired form, how it seemed so much darker in comparison to his slightly paled skin. She let a slight silence settle between them, a short nod of her head, “You aren’t a waste of her time, Ben.” was all the blonde could muster. She knew her mother well enough to know that each person was cared for as her own child, each one given undivided attention, regardless of how petty their ailments were, or who they were.

Addie’s body shifted as he moved from the covers, her gaze taking in the ragged edges the electrical current had left behind. Their red agitated appearance would fade in time, but the scars would always remain. Her lips tightened, hands coming back to rest in her own lap, fingers interlaced to keep them from fiddling. “Manticore.” A heavy paused fell between them, hesitance obvious as she weighed whether she wanted to divulge more to him. Whether she should or shouldn’t. She owed him that much, didn’t she? She had lied, and kept so much from their conversations in these past months surely telling him a few things wouldn’t come to harm anything too badly, would it? One look into the depths of his dark eyes and the emotions what whirred around behind them was enough to lure the words from the confines of her mind and into the open space between them. “The beast is called a manitcore.” A slow breath left her hardly parted lips, still very doubtful about the information she was going to present him with. “This isn’t the last time. But you do gain control, Ben. You’re never as powerless to it as you were before. It progresses from here, gets better. And no. You’ve never harmed a hair on my head.” Then again he had hardly been given the chance. Their friendship, relationship, what ever it was, in the future was still so new when she came over that he had hardly been given the chance to harm her. Yet in her mind she doubted it would happen considering the level of control he had gained at that point. “What else do you want to know?”

image

"I don’t want to be responsible for that." Ben clarified, turning his face half into his pillow, avoiding contact with her eyes. Helpless would be an accurate word to describe him, alongside guilty. Living with the knowledge that he had lost control, that he had killed others, that he would do it again … it was far more painful than the aches in his bones or the scar that spidered up his side. Despite her correction of the head nurse Ben scoffed, rolled to face her and considered her for a long moment as she spoke.

It was when she gave it a name, when she directed him as a beast that he felt it stir. Almost as if something were stroking it, as if it were purring somewhere, he felt that sick sensation in his stomach. He hated the name, he hated the term. His face showed sour, though he knew it wasn’t her fault. She had answers from a reign of impossibilities. She was trying to help. Despite the desire to be alone, to throw himself so far into solitude that he could never claw his way out, he never wanted this. Ben, as arrogant as he had ever been, did not want to hate people. He just wanted to protect them, and so he lashed. Lot of good that did, he noted sourly. It took a very long moment for him to move, to consider anything outside of the name and the tender information she had provided. When he did it was slow, as if he were afraid of spooking her, though he reached out for her hand and grasped it in his own. He hated being alone like this, it was torture, but he deserved it. “No, nothing else,” his voice was soft, defeated, and those dark eyes of his studied her for a long moment before he spoke again, “Just stay for while. Please?”

Mar 24 · 3 weeks ago · 8 notes

williampeterrobinson:

Yeah, getting pelt with those baseballs hurts, too. That’s the part where it’s pointless, doesn’t it? It’s a school where we teach ourselves and everything is backwards. We’ll agree to disagree and when I catch you, you’ll learn that you do. Until then, fine, you maybe brood. What about a game of football? Fresh air and no frustration. 

image

Are you okay? I know it seems like a silly question and I get why you wouldn’t want to answer it and I— are you okay?

I was never a fan of baseball, too much of a Yankee sport. You Americans have a healthy habit of taking things and convoluting them —- case and point in soccer. Perhaps what you consider brooding is normal and you are far too peppy, at your base nature? I don’t brood. What … you’re going to play? Do you have any experience, outside of gym class?

I- … I don’t know. I’ve been sleeping a lot. I don’t feel like doing anything, it seems pointless. I ache. Are you alright … ?

Mar 24 · 3 weeks ago · 26 notes
· g;Will

williampeterrobinson:

I don’t think it would be much of a hell if it were elsewhere. Here? Here feels like a bunch of pointlessness bundled up into bad karma and then thrown with an automatic baseball launcher. I’m ready to graduate, how about you? You do brood, by definition and appearance but that’s irrelevant. You shouldn’t do that but that’s like telling me not to brood and I can’t help that any more than you. Sulking? That doesn’t sound right. You should try playing Impossible Game again. That should get your spirits up. 

image

That’s a pretty good comparison, actually. I’ve been ready to graduate the moment I walked through these doors. There’s not really anything for me here. I never came to make friends, I’m sure as shite not getting a better education and the whole lack of progress with anything remotely related to an ability. Oh this is all money well spent, mate. I don’t brood. The Impossible Game would just frustrate me and I don’t particularly want to be frustrated at this point in time.

Mar 24 · 3 weeks ago · 26 notes
· g;Will

williampeterrobinson:

I thought you were sometimes but only when it’s conveniently placed to cause others frustration. I mean that’s probably why I’m repetitious, being a stubborn cock… cock. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were caught in a groundhog day and that’s why things seem too familiar for comfort. You know, the “this is beyond deja vu repetition” and it just weirds you out? this place can get all sorts of strange at times. But no, you’re not the only one. I’ve even taken on brooding as a hobby among the others so you’re not alone in that either. 

image

What, that I was stubborn? I am stubborn by nature, but it’s usually because I know I’m right. I wouldn’t go out of my way to slight someone … they’re usually not worth it. Not here, at least. I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a loop like that: doomed never to leave, to relive the same things over and over again. I think that’s a circle of hell, actually. I don’t brood, and I never have. As of lately I outright sulk.

Mar 23 · 3 weeks ago · 26 notes
· g;Will

williampeterrobinson:

I feel like I’m repeating myself in thought. That roughly around this time last year, I was thinking the exact same thing with a similar situation and I think it’s kind of funny: it doesn’t matter which side I’m on, or what I’ve experienced or how I have changed over the past year. I’ll still react to similar situations the same way. Good to know.

image

Oh good, I’m not the only one then. I figured maybe I was being a stubborn cock, but if other people are being exposed to similar situations and reacting in a fashion that they deem repetitious I don’t so much feel like I’m stuck in groundhog day.

Mar 23 · 3 weeks ago · 26 notes
· g;Will

ellie-fredrickson:

The red-head saw the boy’s mouth move but could barely make out what Ben had said as his volume had been so low. In response Ellie put on a smile and gave a nod as if she had heard him. Noticing he wasn’t stopping Ellie felt the urg to follow the boy to talk to him. Running a bit to catch up to him she asked “How are you Ben, how are your classes going?”

Although she hadn’t been able to get a good look at the teen’s face before seeing him give her a slight nod Ellie got a better look and couldn’t help but think that he looked as if his mind were elsewhere. “Penny for your thoughts?”image

"Don’t know, haven’t been." His response to the question about classes. It was true, he’d been locked up in his room since the attack had happened, too afraid to go near others and more prone to keeping to himself. The Head Nurse had been regular company, and even then he didn’t bother her with idle chatter. Aside from that Ben did his best to keep Addie away, though it seemed to no avail. "Been on bed rest." And that was the most he’d offer.

At the offer for his thoughts he shifted his free hand (for his room key had been in the other) out of his pocket and gave a slight wave, still not raising his eyes to make contact with her. “Keep it. Nothing but air up there right now.” A lie, of course. He couldn’t simply divulge these thoughts onto anyone. Hell, he held them back from Addie and he had trust in her. There was no way he would share with someone who was just a step above a stranger.

Mar 06 · 1 month ago · 7 notes

ellie-fredrickson:

Ellie had finally finished grading that days assignment and was ready to go home. Stretching a bit to get rid of the stiffness in her neck Ellie looked outside and thought it was as good a time as any to go out. the red head put  on her coat and grabbed her handbag.

Taking a deep breath once outside the woman started walkingn her usual route. Ahead of her she saw someone wearing a pair of shorts. Buttoning her coat up, she couldn’t help but say out loud “Never really thought today as being shorts weather.” Upon closer look she saw that the person in the shorts was Benedict Adams. “Ben, hello.”image

His hands were jammed into the front pouch of his sweat shirt, turning the room key this way and that. Had it not been for the voice he may not have noticed that someone was speaking to him at all. The stone in his stomach dropped —- was it so hard for people to see him as invisible? Raising his dark hues from the floor he caught sight of the woman who had greeted him and did his best to maintain his temper. Thankfully as of late, it had been easy to do. It was as if all of his energy had been bled out of him at once.

"Hello," he murmured in a voice too quiet for himself, as if he was hoping it would slide by unnoticed. How far was the mess hall from here? He could make it down for something to eat and back in no time at all. If she wanted to putter along with him that was her own choice, though Ben did not shift in his stride or accommodate. Instead he offered a slight nod and returned his gaze back to the ground.

Mar 06 · 1 month ago · 7 notes

life-from-art:

"Mmn, I think I left those down the hall, or on the other side of the portal." Her gaze soaked in his resistance, the way he kept his own from her’s. Addie questioned her reason for coming, what her own intentions were, if they were timed appropriately or not. The topic of his power had always been a sensitive one, in her eyes, and now it was only multiplied by a hundred. With a slow movement she inched her body closer, to where her hand could come to rest on the curve of his legs that he had curled beneath the blanket. "I’ll make sure to ask her, though you are in the best hands. That I can promise you. She will make sure you heal as best as you can." Addie rubbed her hand back and forth in the attempt of a comforting method. "Give it time…." The small blonde’s words were soft, reassuring as they could be in this moment. She wanted to badly to comfort him, to take his ailments away, hold him if she could. She couldn’t know the pain he was in, but she badly wished she could siphon it from him, rid him of it somehow. Yet all she could really offer at the moment were soft words, a gentle touch, and infallible company. "Is there anything you need? Something I can bring you?"

image

"You should go get them, and lock yourself out while you’re at it." He didn’t want to be so dismissive, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Had she known what he did? Was she really so care-free about it? The blood of others was on his hands, in his mouth, down his stomach. How sick he had been with it for the days after, bile rising at the back of throat when he thought about what he had done. Even now he felt his stomach clench at the thought, his body curling just-so in case the sick threatened again. "I don’t really want her to waste the time. There are people hurt worse than I am. I’m just achy and burned. It’ll be fine." And he was sure it would be, that everything would heal up proper. Yet there was the Nurse coming to check in on him, to medicate him, always without judgment in her eyes. She had to have known, surely … perhaps she just hid it well. "Time for what? Another flare of my temper to rear the head of the monster? Say it, Addie … you know what it is. You’re from … ahead, the future, right?" Now he shifted, pushed the covers down and sat up a bit. From his right side the lightning scar eked out and tingled at his chest, beneath bandages that didn’t cover wholly. "How many times have I lost it then, hurt people? Killed people? Do I ever learn control? Who else do I injure? Do I hurt you?” Selfish, maybe. All of those he had caused heartache to, and all he could think of was how thankful he was that she was fine. He could never truly forgive himself for what had happened —- had it been here the effects would be irredeemable.

Mar 06 · 1 month ago · 8 notes

Ritual of habit had made it so that he only came out for necessities, and when that time came Benedict did not speak to anyone. Out he came for food when the aches in his body weren’t too terrible —- food wasn’t worth harassing Nurse Llyr for. He merely nodded with the most weak and ill-fitting of smiles to the chef when she gazed at him, collected his food and shuffled back to his room.

But it was growing stuffy in there. He wanted the light, he wanted some air, and he wanted solitude. So when he made the executive decision to shower, throw on a pair of shorts and a hoodie over his head, he drew himself into a tight ball and locked his dorm room behind him. The key went into the pouch of his sweat shirt, his eyes downcast on the ground. Just a short stroll, he told himself, enough to stretch and go bac to solitaryThere was no harm in that … right?

Kit Harington and his publicist at the 2014 SAG Awards.

· **