Bugs

[Onira]

Onira sat on the bench of the courtyard, looking intently at the gloomy night sky. Not even one star could be seen amongst the depressing clouds. It had been raining all day, which although was a nice change from the incredible heat, got really annoying, really fast. Then again, Onira hadn't really been outside that much lately. A LOT of his time had been in his dorm. He had been spending a good amount of time (8 days) trying to build the beetle Torm had given him. It was a very hard task, because the size of the creature meant Onira had to make every alchemic melding and angles and placement absolutely exact. He had gotten through what he thought was about a quarter of the project, but was doubtful it would work. It was just, so, damn, annoying. Onira rubbed his eyes.

"Time passes too quickly."

The truth was, Onira had spent almost the whole day on the beetle, and it was now almost midnight. He needed a short break. Just a short one. He couldn't take too long out of buildingthe bug, or he would start to lag behind. Sleep seemed to be something he couldn't afford. Not on this particular project. Onira sighed.

"Sometimes I wonder."

A drop of water fell on Onira's cheek and the young man put on a slight look of annoyance.

"Why do you hate me so much nature?"

[Jonathan Winters *Deceased*]

Arcane Academy. Still and ever yet trying to find out where everything was, Jonathan came to the conclusion that most of his maps were very inaccurate, so he put on some generic Sniper Suit, but just kept his mask latched onto his back. Habit forced him to carry around his Beretta as well as strap on his M82A1 to his back. Back straight, walking almost if he were marching, it was suprising to see that he barely even made a sound, the big part of his army boot's heel's taking in most of the pressure, then stepping in lightly with the rest of the toe, able to maintain minimum noise. Yet, here in the courtyard, from several visits, he'd notice that sometimes it would be flocked with people, and other times, just empty as if a plague were there. To his suprise, someone was sitting here, alone. He stood in the background, watching him for a little bit.

In the gray clouds, Jonathan watched as some birds flew overhead, not quite ready to rain, but just on the eve of perhaps what would be a light drizzle. Just a guess, nothing more. Curvatures of stone led him away from his stationary position, until he was standing before the bench, to the right of the student. Why not?

Taking a quick glance at the the water that fell on the man's face, a sparkle in Winter's eyes flashed, as if he were smiling through his eyes, amused. He paused there for a moment, just staring at the bench. Taking a few formal steps to turn himself around, he then sat backwards, onto the bench beside the fellow student, hunching forward, his hands together, not saying a word, just staring ahead, watching the patterns in the stone floor before them, in this courtyard. What it must've taken to create such wondrous designs... did it form into a phoenix, or one of the constellations? He was certain it formed some sort of pattern.

[Onira]

Onira ignored the new-comer. He was too tired to be nice. Didn't really want a chat. He just wanted to relax. Do nothing before returning to his project. Otherwise he feared his brain would explode. Well, not really, but he sure felt that way.

The young man rubbed his eyes again, leaning over to stare at the ground. He placed his hands behind his head and let out a bit of a sigh. Part of him was saying to talk to the stranger, and the other was saying to just ignore him and relax. He chose the first option.

"May I ask what another would be doing out on a night like this?"

OOC: Sorry... short. Can't really think of anything else.

[Jonathan Winters *Deceased*]

What would another person be doing out on a night like this? Jonathan shrugged his shoulders, not saying anything. But he leaned back, comfortable with how things were, his hands supporting the back of his neck. Why was he out here, late at night? It bothered him, not knowing the answer he should be asking himself. Sitting back up, his right hand first pointed to the ground, following a certain color of bricks, until it trailed off into another, to indicate the possible pattern there. But the point of his hand raised up higher, higher into the sky, until he was pointing at the stars, not even looking at them himself, but just with his hand.

Shrugging his shoulders again, he nodded quietly at this. Peaceful night, very quiet, very likeable. Contenting himself, he looked up, first again the the just barely visible sky, with the gray clouds coming in, and then looked back down, his eyes still trying to determine what that pattern was.

[Onira]

Onira sighed lightly. Part of him was amused with the stranger, and part was annoyed. He didn't seem to enjoy talking. That seemed pretty obvious.

"Very talkative aren't you?"

Onira figured it probably for the best. If the stranger didn't wish to talk, then that meant Onira could just relax. Just let his mind rest and wander freely. Searching his memories for something peaceful. He moved back to a relaxing position, resting his head on the back of the bench. His violet eyes turned to the sky. What was to be there? Stars. Onira closed his eyes, remembering the stars. On that beautiful night. With Phae. Relaxing indeed. The stars shown to him like heaven's tears. Peaceful. Warm.

"It's beautiful."

Onira muttered the words to himself. They were Phae's originally. Well, Onira guessed you couldn't really own words, but you could possess them. He smiled, eyes still closed, thinking of the stars. And Phae.

[Jonathan Winters *Deceased*]

"Very talkative aren't you?" Ah yes. Very. Jonathan wanted to laugh, but, only a small smile came out instead, as he just kept on looking at the ground. "It's beautiful." Jonathan's ears perked up, hearing something, but uncertain if he had heard correctly. Unable to resist fully, he swiveled his head over to look at Onira. His eyes were wrapped with attention at the starry sky. His own eyes followed Onira's sight, and watched as well, in slight awe and amazement, feeling a little nostalgic, but a blank-face as always.

What made it so that cosmical gases were so... so visually pleasing? It was the the fact that so many years away from them, lay these stars, great, huge, beautiful, in all its magnificience and glory, and yet, here, from their small world, they painted the skies, creating works of art, the greatest masterpiece, a never-ending symphony, lighted with shooting stars, decorated with unknown planets and the possibility of other worlds like their own elsewhere. And yet, for all he could bring himself to do, Jonathan could only just.. smile.

His gave returning, he looked again at Onira, but then... why were his eyes violet? Blue, green, black, brown, but violet? Perhaps, it was the fact that he had a family history of magic users.. either way, Jonathan did not know for certain, but nor did he press to know. It was only his curiosity that kept him staring at Onira's eyes, blinking a few times, arching his his right brow, but the smile definetly still there. Very interesting place.

[Onira]

Onira gave a small frown. His brain was moving at a steady pace now because he had presented himself with a challenge. It seemed the stranger didn't like to speak, or laugh, or let even the sound of breathing escape his lips. Yes, Onira's challenge was to make the stranger atleast speak. Of course, his first idea was alchemy. Make the stranger open his mouth by morphing the jaw. Maybe form a couple of his teeth into a sort of wedge so he really had no choice to open it. Add some pressure to the lungs to make him breath, and then coax the throat so he made a sound. However, that eventually became just a liiiiiiiittle gruesome. Too much pressure on the lungs and the guy was dead, not to mention the wedge in his mouth might make him get a bit of a gag reflex. Then there was the fact that the throat might implode from pressure, so overall, Onira just decided on a more... orthodox, approach.

"May I ask what this stranger's name is?"

Okay, so maybe not original. Asking one's name wasn't exactly something cool, no matter how you looked at it. It was simply a noise to create a noise. Then again, that was all a conversation was. Multiple noises resonating at different frequencies in waves that eventually find their way to the ear, through a series of vibrations and conversions, and finally to the brain through the auditory nerve. However, speech tended to carry a more spiritual approach at times. When a master speaks to his devout apprentice, the voice seems to carry both hard and connective properties. As Onira already knew.

OOC: I like to ramble...

[Jonathan Winters *Deceased*]

A frown, then, with a pause.. Jonathan began to wonder what this man was thinking. He too was staring into this man's eyes, still wondering why his pupils were purple.. but no, he shouldn't get too attached into the eyes. His eyes travelled a little more, noting in the sandy blonde hair. Hair that went down to his waist. In the military, that would be chopped off, something Jonathan had been able to avoid, thanks to his duties as a sniper. He wanted to say something, but, just couldn't. Although... why should he be embaressed to talk, despite himself? No.. hmm. Had to think on this one, really, he had to get to know his classmates somehow, and being silent wasn't the way to go forever, at least. But it was just.. "May I ask what this stranger's name is?"

This man caught on, at least. Reaching into his vest, the area around his neck, he pulled out his dog tag:

Winters, Jonathan
Blood Type: AB
Occupation: Sniper, D-13

Extending his right hand out, keeping the dog tag still out with his left, he tried to smile, and mouthed the words 'hello'. Didn't work out to well, just looked like he opened and closed his mouth. Oh dammit, he was so out of practice on talking.. had to work on it more. But, as the moon became clearer, Jonathan began to notice more. The classmate before him had on a white cloak, black shirt.. huh. His eyes lit up again, smiling to himself and this man. He liked this guy, seemed very amiable, despite his comments on his person, which was understandable, considering his own silence. He'd better say something soon. His pills? No, those were his own personal thing, for his own sanity.. the D-13 wouldn't be appreciative of that, even despite his 'transfer'. Sniping? Not too many people really cared about the details snipers noticed, like how a man may have about exactly thirteen hairs on the booger that fell from his nose at a rate of about fifteen feet per second.

OOC: Same. Nice to meet you.

[Onira]

Onira looked at the stranger. He seemed to be very intrigued. He couldn't find exactly what he was so interested in. His hair was regular in the moon-light, his clothing wasn't really that different, and all in all, his random personality hadn't seeped out too much. No jumping off of roofs, out of windows, or onto pedestrains. He hadn't transmuted a set of boobs (yet), and he hadn't made a stone monkey juggle. No lighting his coat on fire. No lighting the drapes on fire. No lighting a priest on fire. No lighting a dorm on fire. No lighting a tree on fire. No lighting Bob's hair on fire. No lighting Jane's hair on fire. No lighting Bill the hobo on fire. No lighting a roof on fire. No lighting of cats, dogs, gerbils, hamsters, snakes, crocodiles, frogs, fish, tigers, elk, horses, camels, and any other wildlife on fire. Not even the large (even freakishly so) Venis fly trap on fire. Nothing. Not even performing random slashing and healing jobs. Or Dorm-personalizing. Everything had been normal. Well, apparently not. Cause he was still being stared at.

The shiny chunk of embroyded metal found it's way from the stranger's neck to his hand and infront of Onira's face. His violet orbs scanned the writing.

"Winters huh?"

Onira relaxed and laced his fingers behind his head. A common relaxation position. Onira didn't even know why. Maybe it was because the position resembled some sort of comformation pillow. Like the one's you saw on TV. Maybe it was because it really possessed no point. Sort of showed off the fact that one didn't care and didn't want to try anything. One could only guess.

"Nice name. Sounds..."

Onira searched his mind for the conclusion.

"Official."

OOC: Woohoo! More rant! -Edit- Same.

[Jonathan Winters *Deceased*]

"Winters huh? Nice name. Sounds... Official." All Jonathan could do was shrug. Almost smiled. Almost. There was growing curiosity to ask who this guy was, but, Jonathan still felt a reluctance to talk. And with it, he reasoned against it. Why not? "..." Just didn't know what to say. His mouth opened for a little, but, closed slowly after. Had to take to pantomiming. His pointing finger went up to his eye, and went back and forth, as if almost getting ready to jab into it. Then, using that same finger, he pointed it with solid emphasis at Onira, then, quickly, back to his eye. For all the difficulties of what he was trying to say, all he was trying to ask was 'why is your eye that color?' He was gonna have to say something soon, or else, he'd get irritated with himself. His mouth opened again, trying to speak. "...aa....." A syllable. A damned syllable. His mouth closed up again. Shaking his head, he noted to himself of exactly how out of practice on talking he really was. He could normally react a little better to his squad mates in the D-13, but here... well. Arcane Academy was great and all, but, he didn't feel completely comfortable. Just yet, anyways.

Jonathan's thoughts turned again to Onira, making him stare a little bit less inconceivably, but, enough as if to enquire something. When he had walked in, this man looked somewhat depressed or distraught. Probably not to an extremity, but something of slight concern. On the battlefield, sometimes small things could in reality be huge things that dictated whether a whole squad died or not.. no. That was an extreme case, however. Again, he tried to ask about the eye, pointing to his own, raising his left eyebrow, and then back to Onira, and then repeating again, for five seconds, finally stopping, hoping to give Onira the hint.

[Onira]

Onira gave a curious stare. Winters was staring at Onira's eyes, pointing at his own, and obviously looking for an answer. But, as expected, the blunt Onira couldn't piece jack all together, and started letting random answers blurt out.

"Pink eye? Eye infection? Contacts? You've got a piece of wood stuck in them? A bird crapped on your eye? A bug layed eggs in your eye? Your eye has special powers? Your eye is actually your mouth and that's why you don't talk? You need cordizone cream to put on your eye? You have a rash on your eye? Someone stabbed your eye? Bob flicked your eye? The venis fly trap bit you, inserted it's seedlings into your eye, and soon they'll hatch and you'll have a veni fly trap for an eye? Did an owl morph itself into a really tiny version and made a nest in your eye? Is your eye on fire? Does your eye have a roof? When you look at something does it tend to turn into a monkey?"

Yup, random answers. Onira's specialty. It wasn't like he didn't try. Well, yeah actually. He didn't try. But that wasn't the point. Well, then again, there never really was a point with Onira. Just random after random comment. Nothing ever too insane. Usually to do with fir, plants, animals, or lighting plants or animals on fire. Not exactly a large main bank, but like most banks, it branched off. Many small topics. Bob. The local Priest. The local nun. Bill the hobo. Anything really. Anything and everything.

[Jonathan Winters *Deceased*]

"Pink eye? Eye infection? Contacts? You've got a piece of wood stuck in them? A bird crapped on your eye? A bug layed eggs in your eye? Your eye has special powers? Your eye is actually your mouth and that's why you don't talk? You need cordizone cream to put on your eye? You have a rash on your eye? Someone stabbed your eye? Bob flicked your eye? The venis fly trap bit you, inserted it's seedlings into your eye, and soon they'll hatch and you'll have a veni fly trap for an eye? Did an owl morph itself into a really tiny version and made a nest in your eye? Is your eye on fire? Does your eye have a roof? When you look at something does it tend to turn into a monkey?" ...This just wasn't going to work. Jonathan slid forward, his hands outstretched, as he fell into them, making a huge 'face-slap' sound. He paused for a bit, contemplating. Should he? Should he really? Ack, he needed to start talking sometime, and he was sort of amused, if a little... he didn't know how to put it off. His face shook in his hands for a little bit, almost sniggering, but not quite. Shaking his head, he raised it back up, and stared straight in front of them, giving an audible sigh, the first audible noise he had made all night. The bones in his neck slowly redirected his face again to look at Onira, and to add further emphasis, he pointed to his own eye.

"..E-e-eye." His finger then jabbed towards Onira, at his eye, not provokingly, but to make his point. "Wh-why i-is ya-y-yours v-v-v-v-v... VIO..violet..?" Ugh. He had struggled on the 'vio'. Really needed to get back in the habit of talking.. wouldn't be able to communicate at crucial moments. Stuttering just made it so hard. But, he seemed kind enough. And his antics were just. Funny. This guy, this guy was awesome in his own way, but freaked out Jonathan by the way of his thought process. Taking out a little pill bottle from his vest's holding pocket, which read, 'E-Killer', he unscrewed the top with what seemed to be common ease, a generic practice he did several times a day that felt so automatic, and with an open hand, popped one into his mouth, making a very subtle gulping sound.