. p r i v a t e .

[Skittle]

Oo; Mmmkay Siki, I shalt start us off. ;D

<3

Ic;

A yawn escaped the mouth of a slim youth, her eyes half shut in mockery of her teacher. She fluttered delicate fingers across pale lips, and dropped her pallid, pointy head into her newly folded arms, snoring lightly. She heard her teacher give an exasperated sigh and grinned into her arms, knowing she'd had her intended effect. Almost to add to her satisfaction, a close-to-tears shriek followed the sigh.

"CHARLOTTE! How will you learn if you don't LISTEN?!"

Instantly, the girl's face was pulled from her skinny arms, livid and set into a snarl. She leapt from her seat, to stand upon her desk and look down on the teacher, who's expression had turned from one of weary exasperation to one of fear.

"LEARN!? I'M CHARLOTTE LOGAN! I HAVE AN UNCHARTERED IQ AND YOU THINK I NEED TO LEARN!? YOU'RE A PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING, AND YOU DESERVE TO BE SHOT. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT, YOU UNWORTHY CREATURE!"

The teacher fled the room in nigh-on shock. As the door slammed, the precocious ten year old clambered as gracefully as she could muster from her soap-box. She smiled to herself as she sat down, placing her narrow face in her arms again, and beginning to set her immense brain power into action.

Far away from the blonde-haired, blue-eyed child, the teacher she had just successfully reduced to a jibbering wreck met with the rest of her unsuccessful teachers, to discuss her future.

"She must have discipline!" One alledged, tired of the constant bickering among the staff about the girl in question.

"But how to deliver it to a student that just doesn't care?" Another contradicted.

"We could expell her." This comment produced a murmuring of agreement among the more disgruntled staff.

Finally, the head of Charlotte-related affairs, who had been wearing a rather secretive smile all the while, placed down his papers on the desk.

"Gentlemen and women. I have a plan."

And, somewhere in the grounds, their plan was arriving, to be taken straight to Charlotte by a staff member.

This was sure to stir things up.

[drybrid]

Apparently, Leonard Price had no choice in the matter.

If there was one thing that boy hated, it was being forced to do something. It probably stemmed from the fact that he was so used to forcing others to do things, that being the object of orders did not sit well with him. To be honest, not many things sat well with him, but that was just because he was the type of person who enjoyed - if you could say he enjoyed anything - being difficult.

You could, however, very easily say that he pretty much had a degree in being difficult.

He did not enjoy being the one 'under control', he did not enjoy rain, and he did not enjoy being dragged to an unknown, "somewhat dangerous" location, and least of all enjoyed having all three pushed upon him.

"Y'know, anybody else would probably be screaming at me."

Leo gave a half-hearted tug on the death-grip on his arm [at any other school he would've been able to sue the bastard's ass from here to kingdom come for such rough handling, and that would have been another thing he would have actually enjoyed] but knew that nothing would come of it, and settled for scowling. Seeing as he was cowling already, there was little difference. "If you're honestly disappointed by that, I'll sort it out immediately."

He'd already tried to use his 'powers' [though he resented calling them that, he always insisted that he was simply a persuasive person], but knew they'd have no effect. The asshole in charge, though, had sent the only member of staff in the whole fucking establishment who seemed to have a skull thick enough to guard him from Leo's voice.

He also had tree-trunk arms to match, and Leo, who, ever since his 'capture', had been testing the blood flow to his fingers, was positive that his insanely thin arm was going to snap. Not arrogant enough to lose a limb over the indecency of the whole ordeal, Mr Price had taken to sulking and his silvery tongue.

"Ya're'a li'le prick, I hope ya know that."

Leo's expression, unfortunately, couldn't darken any more. "You're just lucky nobody else can witness this unfair attack on my personality."

"Yah, 'snot often I getta bash ya on my own."

The huge PE teacher gave a brutal tug, lurching the rag-and-bones boy forwards several feet, and proceeded to drag him across the grounds towards hell.


"Here ya go, you fuckin' brat."

"I love you too."

"Twathead."

Leo, who usually kept himself out of physical harm, couldn't help but appreciate the unique pain of being bodily thrown on the floor by a talking Kong. Muttering, he picked himself up and dusted his dusty self down, before staring at the door indicated by a fat finger.

"Is my gravestone in there or something?" he said with a smirk, but shut up at the growled reply. Raising one arm over his head in defeat [for he needed the other to open the door] he turned the handle and stepped inside what looked like a classroom.

That was odd. He could have sworn he knew of every classroom in the school, but no, here was a new one. However, the being sat at one of the desks was not unknown to him.

His dark eyes widened in horror, and he turned to promptly leave the way he had come; to his distress, the door had been shut behind him, and he was left with his hands against the wood, running his fingertips slowly down the grain as he considered his rather unpleasant situation.

He hadn't realised that the teachers had devised yet another form of punishment for their beloved students.

[Skittle]

Her face had lazily risen itself from her arms the moment she had heard a scuffle outside her classroom. With a pale brow arched, she watched the door, fiddling with her thick goggles and looking tiredly bored. She had kept herself up all last night, what with her new experiments, and was thusforth in dire need of a nap. She wasn't exactly likely to admit so, though, and so remained in her half-awake state for much of the day.

As the door handle twisted, she felt a knot of rising apprehension begin to take control over her stomach, and silently cursed herself. She, the great Charlotte Logan, be phased by an opening door? The very idea was laughable. Giving her wrist a light slap, she settled to watch the door once more.

The aged mahogany creaked open, and in walked an unfamiliar face. She cocked a brow as he immediately tried to retreat, a slight grin taking hold of her pallid features. So, she had been sent a fellow pupil to torment? Did the teachers never learn? Human company was...was beneath her.

Parting her pale lips, she spoke to the alien invading her premises, her tone both condescending and amused.
"So, they've sent me some fool kid now? What, do they think I'll give you a break? Please. Spare me."

[drybrid]

Leo had never been a fool. He had made bad choices in many things, but to stay out of Logan's way was something he was careful to do. The stories he heard were enough to ward him off.

Now he was trapped with the great white herself.

"So, they've sent me some fool kid now? What, do they think I'll give you a break? Please. Spare me."

Deciding that his situation, hardly able to get worse from here, was something he was pretty much stuck with, he swallowed the bitter tasting cowardice he had fleetingly experienced and turned to the monster herself, a small smile in place.

With anybody else, he would have acted above them. It was because he pretty much was above everyone in the school - he was smarter than the lot, with a few notable exceptions. The most prominant was sitting in front of him, leering at him. He felt his face grow slightly red, but was genuinely scared. He had a good memory, and right now it inconveniently decided to retell all those wonderful stories he had heard about the charming lady in front of him.

He always resorted to sarcasm.

"I don't know what they were thinking, but for you to give me a break probably wasn't it. I wouldn't mind one, so long as it doesn't involve me bones."

He didn't even try to use his power against the demon. If he had possessed any charm, he might have tried that instead [though it would have sickened him]. He was left with survival instincts.

"Just leave me intact enough to get out of this door and into the nearest hospital and I'm happy."

[Skittle]

The brow raised even higher, and for a moment Charlotte was silent, her expression unreadable, watching Leo as a cat might watch a mouse before going in for the kill. She was now considering how exactly to respond, and pondering his words carefully, not because she was slow, but because she was fast.

A few moments afterwards, her face of stone cracked, and she laughed mildly for a few seconds, smiling at him.
"Well, aren't you quite the comedian?"
Was her initial response. She turned her attention back to her desk, still chortling lightly. Beneath her arms, a set of psychological tests lay, their sole ambition being to test whether or not Charlotte was actually clinically insane.

Charlotte being Charlotte, she already knew which answers would result in which conclusion, and thus had scrawled
'Come back when you get something that doesn't bore me to sleep.'
across the middle. She twirled the pencil in her hands for a few seconds, before leaning over and delving into her schoolbag, apparently having forgotten about her company.

She withdrew a plain green notebook from within it, and placed it lightly on the desk, flicking through a few pages. A muttering of 'Ahah' could be heard as she found her correct page, and her pencil moved at an impossible speed down the page, her brow creased in concentration. Every now and again, she looked up, her expression irritated, and muttered some very complicated-sounding calculations under her breath.

After around ten minutes, her voice sounded from her work, and she sat up again, to cast her gaze towards Leo once more.
"You any good at mathematics? C'mon, you might as well make yourself useful while you're here."

She threw a tattered yellow exercise book in his general direction. In it, several algebraic equations had been noted in her scrawly, italic handwriting. She sneered slightly at the book.
"I have more important things to be doing than menial homework projects."

[drybrid]

Leo wasn’t a bully, but he most certainly wasn’t kiddy fodder either. He had his place in society – by himself – and was content with it, having strived for that lonesome position.

It suited his personality and preferences perfectly, and nobody complained. He was one of the loners of the school – but, yet again, Logan managed to beat him at that too. She had also perfected her imposing nature, for Leo felt completely uncomfortable under her blank gaze. What the hell was she thinking?

However, his survival instincts took him to different ideas than the average person’s would. Instead of covering, he stood – albeit nervously – in his place, matching her gaze with a calm one of his own, arms crossed. He wanted to explore the room with his eyes, but felt that cutting the eye contact would have been showing unnecessary weakness.

He was strong-willed, afterall; most likely not enough to survive Logan’s worst, but he was better than average.

That’s why the fuckers chose me.

"Well, aren't you quite the comedian?"

Comedian? Whether the remark was sarcastic or not, he was rarely called funny; there were the dumbasses in every class who laughed mechanically at the stupid things he said to piss various teachers off, but there was no satisfaction in that. He narrowed his eyes at her remark, but said nothing.

Her attention then seemed to shift from the uncomfortable twelve year old, and he was rather happy for the distraction. Being the type who was difficult to bore, he simply leant back against the door and considered his situation, taking the minutes to observe the room and Logan properly without feeling like he was under inspection. Thinking she was doing homework, he ignored her muttered words until a book was hurled at him. Not being the athletic – or physical in any form – sort, his reaction was terrible, and he was brought to gathering the book, with several loose, scattered pages, from the floor. He opened it to the last used page, and found the calculations. An eyebrow shot up.

He lifted his face to stare at Logan as she proceeded to explain. “I have more important things to be doing than menial homework projects." Alarm bells ringing, he cautiously sat himself at the nearest desk, looking around for a pen or pencil. He had expected something worse than maths, but wasn’t about to assume that this was all she was gonna put him through. He levelled a questioning glace at his roommate, but it only lasted a moment before he put his found pen to paper, and began to write slowly but confidently. His handwriting was neat and compact next to Logan’s messy hand.

He was a very bright child, and although he exceeded at math – the main reason he wasn’t too put off by the task – English was his forte. Anything academic was what he was good at – PE, art and other creative arts [that had nothing to do with storytelling] he hated.

He was putting up a surprisingly small resistance. He did not look Logan’s way as he worked steadily through the problems. He could handle being her homework slave – it was a dent to his ego, since he usually did homework for nobody, and passionately loved his classmates’ desperation – he could’ve been rich by now, had he taken all the bribes. He was more worried about what was in store for him, if this bash to his dignity was step number one.

He hadn’t intended to say anything. However, at times, he would swear that his tongue was sentient. “So what important things can you possibly be doing stuck in here?” Though he wasn’t horrified he had spoken, he was tempted to smack himself, but he decided he may as well look as though it was intentional. So he gave the younger girl a sideways glance, as though it were just innocent curiosity speaking.

Because, of course, Leo was the perfectly innocent type.

[Skittle]

Innocence, however, was something Logan knew all-too-well. For example, the green notebook on her desk was not half as innocent as it appeared. For inside the neat notebook, secrets and horrors that no ten year old should know about lurked. The book was practically a reflection of Charlotte herself; the green, tidy (the only book that was tidy), flawless, innocent cover... And then the sheer grotesque content on the pages.

The book held her ‘projects’; things she did to pass her time, and to make her existance a little less.. Well, a little less boring. Her first ever one had been on the Bermuda Triangle - it's better if one does not mention that particular expanse of water to her these days. Other notable projects included the Holy Grail, Spontaneous Human Combustion (complete with stomach-churning pictures), Atropa Belladonna and Various Other Toxins, and, of course, her second-to-last one, which had been something to do with Satanism. No one knew about the projects, but even if they had, the names would have been all they would have heard. Charlotte kept her ideas highly classified.

But her latest project capped them all. Her latest project had had genius puzzling and attempting for centuries upon centuries. Her latest project was the pinnicle of success... And by hell did she know it. Her latest project was a mixture of every subject under the sun... History, Geography, Religious, Art, Latin, various other languages, Science, Mathematics, English, and even physical education to some extent. Her new project... was alchemy.

Her face remained bent over her work, a far-too-skinny hand reaching upwards and placing itself on her creased forehead. The pen in her hand was still racing across the page, and every now and again she would tut and sigh, or curse under her breath. Alchemy was not, like everything else, fallen at her feet. She had been working at it for weeks and weeks, and had gotten little to no further. And that pissed. her. off.

Her concentration was so absolute that it took a moment for Leo's comment to register in her brain. The pen in her hand paused before she looked up, her face hidden by the shadows of the massive rubber goggles on her head. Agonisingly slowly, her face turned, hidden until the last second. Her face was blank, and she merely stared at him with icy eyes for a moment, before replying.
“So what important things can you possibly be doing stuck in here?”

She took a moment to consider, her eyes half shut, again with that predatorial stare. When she spoke, her tone was mercifully soft. But what she said was the most surprising thing of all; afterall, someone nicked The Great White is not generally deemed to be particularly nice, no?

"Importance is a perception. To a terminal cancer sufferer, perhaps, a cure would be 'important'. To me, a cancer cure would mean little. To the world in general, what Adolf Hitler did was evil... To Hitler himself, he was doing the right thing. We are quick to judge each other on whether what we do is 'right', or 'wrong'. Important or trivial. To me, what I do is important. To others, it might be laughable if they weren't so afraid that I, a mere ten year old female, would tear them to shreds. I haven't even reached puberty yet, and already I can pass University degrees with ease.

"But you wanted to know what was so important. Think back, if you will, to a time when scientists were branded Devil worshippers... and a time when some of them were almost that."

She smiled delightedly, as though the next few words were a joy to let slip.

"I am working on the secret, the most coveted secret, of alchemy. Believe if you would like to; I'm not naive enough to think you'd believe a single word of the excrement I expell through my mouth - few others would. But few others know me. I'm assuming, from your reaction when you entered, that you know my reputation. Perhaps the fact that I'm a very intelligent child will persuade you..perhaps not. In the end, it doesn't at all matter to me. Who would believe you in comparison to me? And anyway... I'd hardly be burnt alive today."

She laughed harshly, a wild fire glinting in her eyes.

Evidently, alchemy was something of a passion.

[drybrid]

The fact that she did not reply instantly put Leo even more on edge; had he offended her in some way? His ultimate goal in this room, despite anything the teachers had plotted against him, was to keep Logan content and give her no reason to hurt him. He was more than confident that she was more than capable of doing so.

When he dared another glance, that familiar, dangerous gaze compelled him to meet her eyes again. She seemed to be considering her answer, or studying him – maybe he was going to get an actual reply from the beast instead of laughing dismissal, which Leo had expected. The fact that she seemed prepared to tell him intrigued him, and he found it to only be polite to pay full attention. Pen abandoned, as she uttered her softly spoken words he found himself turned completely towards her.

How fascinating.

"Importance is a perception. To a terminal cancer sufferer, perhaps, a cure would be 'important'. To me, a cancer cure would mean little. To the world in general, what Adolf Hitler did was evil... To Hitler himself, he was doing the right thing. We are quick to judge each other on whether what we do is 'right', or 'wrong'. Important or trivial. To me, what I do is important. To others, it might be laughable if they weren't so afraid that I, a mere ten year old female, would tear them to shreds.” Aah, so you’re at no loss to what the rest of the world thinks of you, then. That’s interesting. “I haven't even reached puberty yet, and already I can pass University degrees with ease.” Leo had been the opposite. He was only twelve, but had undergone the whole ball and voice dropping at the tiny age of eight; before then, he had simply been a persuasive little boy. Afterwards, his voice would cause people to commit suicide.

He hated to think what she would be like if puberty had similar effects on her.

"But you wanted to know what was so important. Think back, if you will, to a time when scientists were branded Devil worshippers... and a time when some of them were almost that."

Now that Satan was brought into the mix, Leo felt even more interested – but wary at the same time. He, himself, considered himself to be more of a Satanist over any other religious type, but had never committed himself to anything. "I am working on the secret, the most coveted secret, of alchemy.” Alchemy? To make gold? Isn’t that a rather tame subject for a demon as yourself? “Believe if you would like to; I'm not naive enough to think you'd believe a single word of the excrement I expel through my mouth - few others would. But few others know me. I'm assuming, from your reaction when you entered, that you know my reputation. Perhaps the fact that I'm a very intelligent child will persuade you… perhaps not. In the end, it doesn't at all matter to me. Who would believe you in comparison to me? And anyway... I'd hardly be burnt alive today."

Throughout her little speech, he had been blank – save for a slight widening of his eyes every now and then – but the minute a certain sentence had left her mouth, he smiled, and notiably. “Perhaps the fact that I'm a very intelligent child will persuade you… perhaps not.” He hadn’t really considered whether or not she was telling the truth until she mentioned his favourite word, and now he put the ‘powered’ side of his brain to use. Due to his skill in persuasion, it was nigh impossible to play the same trick on him. It was a card game, and he was the champion; he knew the tricks, and all the rules. It was his turn to fall silent as he considered her words, and he ran over her impressive speech over and over, narrowed eyes studying her expression and obvious delight.

He drew the conclusion that she was very much telling him the truth. A twisted truth from a twisted mind, but it was truth to her, and that enough suddenly brought a very different mood over the boy.

His smile grew slightly, but it was one of triumph rather than happiness. His head tilted to one side as he continued to observe the girl. His mind ran through what his purpose here must have been; maybe to try to tame Logan, or persuade her to follow the ways of the school, but the teachers had chosen very much the wrong person for that job. It wasn’t their fault; Leo wasn’t one of the many who screeched about taking over the world, or killing everyone who crossed his path, but his thoughts were rarely harmless.

He wasn’t foolish enough to think that he could control Logan. And he also wasn’t foolish enough to let her control him – completely. As he looked at her, he suddenly saw escape in her feral eyes, and knew that, if he succeeded, being trapped in this room was possibly the best thing to have happened to him since being born.

“Leonard Price,” he said smoothly, extending a hand.

“At your service.”

[Skittle]

Now the speech was over, the smile began to fade from her face. Fast. Evidently, whatever spell that her obsession wrought over her had been broken, and now she seemed irritated that she had spoken. A brow arched and fixed on her forehead, a slight frown tugging at her pale lips. Her hand picked up the pen again, and her gaze, thankfully, no doubt, directed away from Leo and onto the blackboard at the front of the classroom. The pen began to twirl, round and round and round...

"Leonard Price. At your service."

Her face turned again, the displeased, blank-eyed expression still fixed firmly upon her visage. For a moment she merely stared down at him, her eyes moving from his face to the hand and back again. The brow arched higher; Logan hardly had any reason to trust the boy. But, then again, Logan's reputation was probably enough to demolish any 'gifted's' hope of hurting her in the slightest.

Then again, Charlotte had strict rules when it came to human contact. Her eyes locked onto his again, and although the facial expression didn't change, the pen stopped twirling for a moment; a hesitant pause in her actions. Finally, she appeared to decide what to do, and her pallid, cracked lips parted once more.

"Although I'm sure you are in no doubt of my name, to conform to the shallow pleasantries of the human race, I will offer it forth.

"Charlotte Marijke Logan, and I suppose I'm mildly pleased to make your aquaintance. "

She ignored the proffered hand, turning instead back to her green book. In it, the handwriting was remarkably neat, in comparison to the scrawl of the maths book, but completely illegible. Evidently her calculations, plans, hopes and dreams were coded. Well, one could hardly expect less from the child prodigee, no?

She stared down at the writing, her face still a displeased blank, flicking through pages and pages, to reread what she had written. The book itself was huge, evidently thousands of pages long, and A4 size, and already Charlotte was over halfway through it. Eventually she stopped flicking, her eyes scanning the pages and turning those same pages at impossible speeds. It was rather awe-inspiring to watch, really.

As she neared the back, she suddenly snarled in frustration. The pen, which had been steadily gaining momentum as she read, suddenly snapped between her fingers, sending a tidal wave of ink flying everywhere, splattering Charlotte's already tattered clothes. Glass or metal, which of the two wasn't certain, had embedded itself in the tips of her fingers, but she seemed not to notice or care, letting fly a stream of Latin swear words as she desperately blotted the ink from her book. Hell, the girl even swore intelligently.

When she had blotted the last of the ink from the page, she closed the book with a snap, viewing her fingers for damage. She looked mildly surprised when she saw the blood dribbling down them, and pulled the shards from them without so much as wincing. Giving an expressive sigh, she placed the book back in her bag. A delicate (if not bloodstained) hand brushed the shattered pen and ink from her desk absentmindedly, and she got up from her seat, to study the blackboard. A moment later, a delicate fist pulled back and smashed the middle of it. There was the sound of tinkling glass, and she turned towards Leo, the expression having darkened.

"Camera. I disabled the microphone a while ago. Been looking for the camera for weeks."

[drybrid]

To be honest, he hadn’t expected his hand to be taken, but he did not regret offering it. He pulled it back, watching her apparent bothered state with much interest. Had she let her guard down? Why would she have done that? He watched her hesitant, but calculated response, and listened to her words. "Although I'm sure you are in no doubt of my name, to conform to the shallow pleasantries of the human race, I will offer it forth. Charlotte Marijke Logan, and I suppose I'm mildly pleased to make your aquaintance."

Mildly pleased was better than expected. Leo already knew her full name; he had only heard it once, but his memory was exceptional. He was extremely interested in the way she seemed to treat the human race as something below her; seeing as she was most certainly human herself, it meant that she was most definitely screwed up.

Nothing different there; every person in this school was fucked in the head, Leo included. He was just one of the more subtle ones about it.

His previous ‘assignment’ – the maths problems – was unfinished, but he no longer had any interest in completing the pointless exercises. He instead took to watching his roommate as she sped through her notebook, but she was too far away for him to try to see what was within. It was probably best he kept his curiosity at bay for the most part; he had been lucky last time he had spoken before thinking. He promised himself he would carefully monitor his every move around this volatile girl, for he was confident that he could handle her in a way that would ensure his safety. Their brief encounter so far had only certified that she was as bonkers as the stories made out to me, but at least she wasn’t foaming at the mouth. The fact that she seemed to calculate her every move was rather intimidating, but he was determined to match that skill, at the very least, step for step.

If this meeting was to be repeated, it looked like nothing rash was going to be happening, and it was almost creepy – the idea of two such young children acting so professionally, and maturely, with each other. It was like politics. Leo could do politics.

He may have been closely watching Logan, but his mind was racing back and forth, coming to conclusions and asking more questions and deciding the best courses of action. He listened as she cursed in Latin, sorting out the mess she had made.

So she wasn’t perfect. That was a comforting thought.

His calm expression did not change as she approached the blackboard, proceeding to smash it. "Camera. I disabled the microphone a while ago. Been looking for the camera for weeks." Not perfect indeed; she may have been a child genius – as an understatement – but she wasn’t all knowing. He based that also on her obvious passion for alchemy; he didn’t know how long she had been going at it, but from her level of obsession he had witnessed so far, it was probably a rather long time, for her. He suspected that she solved problems within weeks, days; alchemy was obviously proving to be more of a challenge than she was up to.

No, she was up to it, but it was just actually testing her.

He let himself a ghost of a smirk, and absently stroked his bottom lip with a long, pale finger as he watched her. He had nothing to say, so, like a good little boy, he said nothing. If anything, his respect for Logan had increased when presented with her subtle flaws.

[Skittle]

It had been long known that Charlotte was not a particularly pleasant person. At four years old, the precocious toddler had come close to suing her parents. By six, she owned the house and had effectively divorced her parents; restraining orders were taken out on them and they were thrown bodily from their own home, by their own daughter. Legend had it that the girl had seated herself on the doorstep and laughed as they dragged their things away. Legend also had it that their parents new home had burnt down three weeks later, killing them both and making Charlotte an orphan. Of course, the truth behind the tale is sketchy, but one can't help but wonder when it comes to someone like Logan. Afterall...surely there's a valid reason that she's normally kept segregated from 'normal' students, and surely there's a valid reason that she isn't allowed her own dorm...?

In any case, the rather dangerous female was now moving swiftly away from the shattered blackboard, and towards Leo, with that same, dangerously blank look fixed firmly upon her face. She stared at him with alarming indifference, her goggles protruding from her thick blonde hair like dark metal gun barrels. A pallid hand reached out to him, and gripped his collar loosely, attempting to haul him to his feet. The ghost of a smile flickered over her pretty (but pale) features, gone as soon as it had been visible. Still with that blank look in her eyes, her hand tried to guide him to a desk, with full intention to seat him in one of the chairs. She didn't speak to him once, which must have made the whole ordeal that much worse to bear; he could not have known whether she was happy or angry, or whether she intended to reduce him to a gibbering wreck.

Her pallid fingers left his collar as soon as she assumed her task was complete, and she walked away again, drifting to the window like a ghost (her pallor only added to this effect). Her palms planted themselves firmly on the windowsill, and her blue eyes stared out of it, into the fading sunlight. The day was already drawing to a close... Funny, today it had gone extremely quickly. She turned her head momentarily, as though to check on Leo, but turned it back without really seeing him; in truth, her 'toy' was no longer interesting her. Yes, the great Charlotte Marijke Logan was bored. Very bored. She allowed herself a small sigh, and slid her pale fingers up and down the sealed catches of the window. If she were stronger, she'd be able to open it. Unfortunately, she was particularly lacking in the strength department, as her twig-like arms and legs showed. A fist hammered on the window, but not as though it expected it to open, merely a pattering, really. Another sigh escaped her throat, and she moved away, to ponder her existance for a little while longer.

Unfortunately, she never got this chance. A footstep echoed upon her steps in the distance, and her head turned towards the door, a suspicious eyebrow raised. Her eyes darted between Leo and the wood, now properly seeing him, and her fists clenched. The footsteps got closer and clearer; they were sharp, and unhesitant. A low growl escaped her and she continued staring, her blue eyes set in something like anger. Yes, it was unmistakable; those icy pools were blazing. The footsteps got ever closer, and now her own feet carried her to the back of the classroom, so she would not be immediately visible upon entrance. The door handle turned, and she supressed whatever emotion was struggling to the surface. She heard the door scrape on the floor as it was pushed open, and found herself to be holding her breath as she waited. She scolded herself quietly; that was ridiculous. She wasn't afraid of anything.

A tall, familiar figure strode in with a serpentine smile fixed firmly upon it's features, black hair slicked back with oil of some kind. A small moustache wriggled uncomfortably between his top lip and nose, and he carried on smiling that unnerving smile, his thin hands folded around each other behind his back. He was, as per usual, wearing an immaculate grey suit, a green tie hanging primly from his throat. His teeth held almost an unearthly radiance, glowing against the black of his mouth and tongue. His lips, bizarrely, were stained black, as were his eyelids, giving him a horribly creepy impression. Charlotte's most loathed teacher (and the most intelligent in the school) stood directly in front of her. At his side lumbered the same PE teacher that had dragged Leo bodily to the room earlier, a leer set firmly upon his own features.

A sharp intake of breath signified that Charlotte had seen and acknowledged the entrance of Mr. Black Moustache and Mr. Tree Trunk. For a moment, just a moment, mind, she looked mildly out of her depth. But her superior attitude soon returned, and she let a mild smirk paste itself across her features. Well, she had called for entertainment...

A smooth, cool voice boomed from the thin man, that dazzling smile still stretching his black lips wide.
"Now where, oh where, is my beloved Charlotte?"
He seemed to ignore Leo completely, looking straight past him and around the room. His swirling black eyes soon located her, and the black lips stretched wider, giving him a horrendous skull-like visage. Charlotte didn't flinch away, indeed, she took a step forward, almost threateningly, as he turned towards her.
"Charlotte, dear, there's no need to be so confrontational. I'm only here for your wellbeing, remember."
The smooth voice continued, only this time the smile was less of a smile and more of a triumphant smirk.
"I see you've found yourself a friend."
The first hint that he had acknowledged Leo's presence.
"I hear from my friend here,"
He waved a dissmissive hand at Mr. Tree Trunk.
"That your friend is quite the smart one. Perhaps you've finally met your match, eh?"
"I doubt that." Snarled Logan in reply, her blue eyes practically emitting fire.
"Yes. Somehow, Char, I doubt that, too." He stroked his chin, eyeing her with an unreadable look upon his face, the grin now gone.
"Kindly refrain from calling me Char. My name is either Charlotte or Logan." She sucked in a breath and moved rapidly across the room, to stand just at the side of Leo (she would have stood behind him, but he was taller than her).
"But of course. I will respect your wishes. Charlotte."
There was a notable pause between the sentence and the name. She scowled, and he smiled.

"What do you want, then?" She asked, letting free a disdainful sigh. He smiled all the more.
"Oh, you know, the usual. I'm just here to check on you.

And your friend."

Mr. Tree Trunk leered all the more and stumbled further into the room.

Oo; You can be Mr. Tree Trunk; I'll be Mr. Black Moustache. <333 And I'm finished, finally.

[drybrid]

If Leo had been stronger physically, his first reaction to being manhandled may have been to resist. Fortunately for him, all of his focus was so often on his mind and words that the whole instinctive-jerking-away mechanism was growing redundant with disuse. He also had no intention of displeasing Logan; whether or not this sudden grappling was a sign that he was too late in this wish or not, he felt that struggling would get him two things; a possibly angrier Logan, and absolutely fucking nowhere.

To say he was all right with the silent order would be a lie. Though he did not struggle, he found it hard to resist his own personal method of choice for escaping from such uncompromising situations: his tongue. Just to be sure, as he was forcefully ‘guided’, he clamped down on that damn silvery organ of his. His own silence wasn’t something he was used to, but he was prepared to endure it for the greater good.

Ooh, you could almost taste the bitterness.

Once released, to be ignored was practically a blessing. He soon established that the seat was not booby trapped, and the desk he was at was equally as safe. Content that being at the back of Logan’s mind was, really, the safest place to be, he sat back and watched her as though nothing physical had happened. It may have been a blow to his ego, to be disregarded as a threat – or, indeed, something interesting – but it was better than being under harsh inspection. This way, at least, he could ascertain all he could about his roommate in peace. He sat sideways, coolly observing the younger girl, with one arm rested on the back of the chair and the other on the desk. He wasn’t a fidgeter. Unless he was supposed to be concentrating on something material, he didn’t have the mindset for fidgeting. He could almost seem comatose when really thinking.

Right now were just idle thoughts, nothing major, so he wasn’t too distracted to notice the footsteps that turned Logan’s head, and seemed to completely alter her attitude. It intrigued Leo that the idea of someone approaching her lair could bring such a furious turn in the girl. The legends were beginning to show themselves to, possibly, be a little exaggerated. What he saw before him was a very bright, very intimidating, very disturbed girl, who nonetheless still possessed the ability to react badly to simple things like footsteps, and was not the answer to the universe. She may have been part of the equation, but ‘Charlotte Logan’, Leo mused, was not the final calculation.

He liked to wrap his thoughts in odd metaphors like that.

Leo reacted extremely differently to Logan, who had retreated to the back of the classroom, when the door opened and the assailant strode in. The man was one of the slimiest Leo had ever met, but the young boy didn’t feel anywhere near as much emotion at the sight of him as Logan appeared to. His powers may have been greatly subdued on most of the teachers, but there was only one who was completely unaffected by his tongue. The others knew to be wary, but Leo had had the delight of manipulating the gentleman in front of him on a few, priceless occasions: they had been very subtle, and very bad mistakes on the adult’s part.

This didn’t mean that Leo liked him. Leo liked nobody in the school. There were a few he tolerated, others he had to. This slick bastard was definitely one of the latter. Leo did sneer openly at the sight of his beloved PE teacher – so aptly nicknamed Mr Tree Trunk – but reacted no more than that. Unless he was being recollected – in which case, the presence of Mr Moustache seemed unnecessary – these two were most certainly here to see Logan. Not wanting to draw anymore attention to himself than was needed [which was none] he did nothing, and simply watched the proceedings with dark, but bright, eyes.

Their relationship was extremely amusing. It seemed Logan had met her match, arrogance and attitude-wise. Leo raised an eyebrow at the throwaway mention of him being a ‘friend’, but remained otherwise blank to the next few moments of conversation.

Then something truly anomalous happened; Logan chose to stand at Leo’s side. The boy’s fleeting expression showed nothing but how amazed he was at this – and he doubted that the teachers, or Logan, did not manage to notice. He recomposed himself as quickly as possible, however, for the conversation did not stop. He was being used as nothing other than… protection? Support?

When he thought about that, he decided that he most certainly would back his fellow psychotic student than either of the two teachers. That, alongside the fact that Logan had acknowledged him in such a way, gave him plenty more to think about.

It was a shame that he wasn’t given the opportunity to comatose himself, since the sight of the approaching Moustache and Tree Trunk sent his danger alarms ringing. His personal space was larger than the normal person’s, and although Logan did not bother him too much, he didn’t like to be anywhere near staff. They made him sick.

There was one aspect of Leo’s physique that he liked to use to his advantage. His muscles may as well have been non-existent for the good they were, but the length of his bones were very useful indeed. Instinctively, he stood; Logan had chosen to stand beside him, but not behind him, which turned out to be a wise choice. He completely and utterly towered over her. He wasn’t tall enough to overshadow Mr Moustache, but the move was impressive nonetheless. Mr Tree Trunk was smaller, though.

Leo didn’t often tower over everyone, as he was accustomed to slouching. It nearly took a quarter off his height. Now, however, he stood as straight as his crooked bones would let him. It wasn’t to protect Logan or himself, necessarily, but… to make sure he wasn’t overlooked, so to speak.

“I’m sure you’ll be disappointed to see that I’ve acquired no bite marks yet,” he drawled. “Give her another hour or so for that.

“But I’m intrigued. May I ask what this ‘usual’ is about? I see absolutely nothing ordinary about this... setup.”

[Skittle]

There was one thing in the entire world that interested Logan more than anything else. Even more than her current alchemy project. And that, my friends, is the study of the human mind; Charlotte was a keen (and extremely able) psychologist. And, goddamn, she used it. Par examplia, she had been using her skills during this entire charade. The changes in personality were carefully orchestrated; she wanted to have an upper hand on both Leo and the adults. In this way, she could make herself out to be far less than she was... Indeed, every single move she makes, even the slightest twitch of a finger, is analysed and thought through. She never makes any kind of move without first analysing the pros and cons. And, by hell, was she good at her chosen profession. The child was a born actor; one intellectual that was both highly academic and highly creative.

Music was another forte; like mathematics, it involved logical progressions to reach the intended goal. Of course, she was rarely let near instruments for fear of what her immense brain power might turn them into. Yes, some of the fears involving Charlotte are completely manical, but one cannot blame them; the human race fears what it does not understand. In the end, intelligent and analytical, and amazing as she was, Charlotte was still a child. And children crave the ability to run free - else they find other things to direct their skills into. So, maybe, by limiting her access to musical instruments, by limiting her access to other children, by limiting her access to normality... Maybe they were making a bad situation worse. And maybe, just maybe, they were destroying any sense of reality that the young sociopath had once had. For the moment, she still had small vestiges of humanity, sympathy and empathy. But what will the future hold?

As Leo spoke, Charlotte appeared to hesitate for a moment, a playful grin sparkling in her eyes for less than a nanosecond, and then her face collapsed; the angry expression vanished, to be replaced with her usual blank banality. Her counternance betrayed her nil, and a hand wandered to her elbow, holding it lightly as a brow raised benevolently on her forehead. Inside her head, a thousand different thoughts continued to race, calculating thousands of different reactions by the second. She was working out what to do in any situation that would arise from her anger being swiftly dropped, and, all the while, the banal, blank, almost idiotic smile remained perched on her lips, giving an impression of naivity, and innocence. Let's not kid ourselves, here. There's very little innocent or naive about Logan.

Her mind, having calculated all the odds, sent it's messages along thousands of nerves, twitching her tongue into action inside her red mouth, her pale pink lips parting to let loose her words. It came of little surprise to her, however, that Mr. Moustache had parted his own black lips and that his literal silver tongue had begun twitching before hers could start. She shut her mouth gently, and leant to one side (away from Leo, it should be noted), her blue eyes looking to him, round and wide, and totally naive. Yeah. Right.
"The only unusual thing in this situation, my dear boy, is you. I have little doubt that you don't belong here, but I have left questioning the Powers That Be for now." Although his voice was smooth and his smile remained, the hint of displeasure was notable in his tone; he quite clearly resented Leo's presence. The black pools that were his eyes gazed upon Leo with an expression that was little less than disdain, before responding to his former comment.
"And as for bite marks, why ever would she? She's a creature of intellect..."
He cast a single, short look at Charlotte, smiling creepily.
"Not a savage."

She merely continued smiling, finally being given her turn to speak. Her pale lips parted once more, her thin, red tongue running along her lower lip momentarily, in a serpentine manner, as she whet her dry skin. A slow breath was pulled in, and then her eyes twinkled once more with innocence. Ultimately, her surprisingly childlike voice began to speak. She didn't quite add a lisp to emphasize her words, but one received the impression she was stationed somewhere along those lines.
"A savage? Of course not. I'm just a child, obviously."
Her smile stretched, looking almost pretty on her features.
"Afterall, I hardly possess the physical strength to attack someone,"
She turned and looked Leo up and down, slowly and deliberately.
"Especially someone about twice my own height."

However, Logan and Mr. Moustache knew that she didn't need physical strength; she had educated herself in disarming tactics and pressure points, and could take down virtually any enemy with one move. Her small size meant that speed and agility were greatly improved, too, and that she could get away easily in a situation even she couldn't control.

Mr. Moustache, however, appeared to have had enough of games.

"Come now, Charlotte. I'm assuming I am supposed to bring your 'friend' with you, but we have classes to attend, no?"

Although nothing showed upon her visage, or in her body language, an icy shot of fear zipped up her spine.

"I suppose." She replied, cautiously. Perhaps this time it would be different? Surely they wouldn't want to expose Leo to the secrets of the school? Unless, she mused, they want a new participant.
The sympathetic part of her hoped not. For Leo's own sake, at least.

[drybrid]

Leo was making exceptions to all his life rules about now. His most prominent one was not to speak if it was likely to result in pain. Though Logan had, apparently, decided to side with him, he had no way of knowing if it was a trick or not, and he was most certainly talking out of turn – and making snide remarks to a teacher – and not just any teacher?

It was lucky he was a nutcase, that’s all I have to say.

Logan’s fleeting gleeful expression almost went unnoticed; he was too tall, and she was too close to his side, for him to see her face properly, and what he did see he would swear he imagined. It was probably best; he was a tough cookie, but better suited to much milder situations than this. He was the serious one amongst fools, not the foolish ones around solemnity. This was getting too much for him, but he wasn’t a coward. Not entirely. He wasn’t backing out yet.

Backing away from what was the question; and from whom. It suddenly occurred to him that he wasn’t entirely sure which side he should be on. Psychotic teachers, or psychotic pupil? It was either a lose-lose situation, or, at a stretch, a win-lose situation. Now, he wasn’t number one at maths, but he didn’t like the odds. And Leo always, always played for the odds. He was still alive so far, wasn’t he?

He didn’t react when he moved away from him, and tried his best to look completely nonchalant [which was becoming increasingly difficult; his imagination was providing all sorts of sick endings to his day] as the tall man replied, in an obviously displeased manner, "The only unusual thing in this situation, my dear boy, is you. I have little doubt that you don't belong here, but I have left questioning the Powers That Be for now." Leo resented that fact that that made sense; this was obviously a common occurrence for Logan, and Leo was an anomaly.

Having been an ‘anomaly’ all his life, you’d have thought it wouldn’t affect him much. Very much to his surprise, however, he felt a sudden burning in his stomach, and he had to work hard not to scowl too deeply. The bastard’s next, snide words didn’t help much either; Leo was suddenly growing to realise why he never felt the urge to run away from this hellhole. He may not have liked the ‘school’, but he loved what he knew, and he knew the place very well indeed. Familiarities delighted him. Patterns pleased him. In this place, it was normal to be abnormal; to suddenly be different was somewhat of a shock. To not be entirely sure how he differed, and whether he was better or worse than these people, scared him.

Yes, he could admit it now; he was afraid for himself, and hated every moment of it.

He prepared some cutting remarks about Logan simply being a civilised savage, but held them back. Now was not the time to be digging a deeper hole in the doggy-doo. Now that he had briefly established that he wasn’t sure which side to support, he had registered the two [admittedly despicable] teachers as a possible get-out-clause, and, as he assumed, if he had failed his purpose of being shoved in here in the first place, it was likely [he prayed] that he would never see this mostly-empty shell of despair ever again.

He was just about to begin weaving some subtle mind games into the fray, when the most chilling remark of the day was spoken. Leo felt his grave abused by more than idle footsteps, and almost visibly shuddered.

"Come now, Charlotte. I'm assuming I am supposed to bring your 'friend' with you, but we have classes to attend, no?"

Always the one in control of himself, he managed to make little outward responce, though his eyes did widen a fraction. Classes? Leo being brought? Logan’s gentle, almost nervous reply did nothing to help. It sounded like she hadn’t expected it, and that…

… well, Leo didn’t want to think about it. He simply suspected that his skill for blocking everything out would turn out to be the best thing he had ever taught himself.