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[ 𝘛𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 | 𝘕𝘰𝘯𝘦 / 𝘛𝘉𝘋 ]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈

༻⏝༺༻⏝༺

Another Day...

Audibly groaning, the teen threw an arm over his tired eyes, shielding them from the hellish light that was so rudely waking him up. That same arm, releasing its presence as the male's shade for just a moment, stuffed a pillow and threw it over his face. The day was here, or so it seemed. No, absolutely not. He was not moving. It wasn't time. It couldn't be that time again. His fifth alarm hadn't rung yet... It couldn't possibly be time to actually be a functioning human being. Five more minutes, five more years, five more decades, just not-

BEEP 
BEEP
BEEP

Nevermind.

Rolling over, still wrapped in his sheets, the male reached to his night stand, still ever blindly, to stop the absolute blaring that was happening in his ears. A smart person would actually look to see where he needed to hit, but it was still too bright to be smart. No matter where he slapped on the damn thing, the sound continued, much to the male's dismay. One more stretch of his arm, and it seemed he'd reached too far, as soon he found there was nothing under the top half of his body to shield him from the inevitable. The boy fell face first onto the cold, hardwood floor of his bedroom, taking his blanket with him and rolling into his nightstand, half of him laying lifelessly on the ground, the other half still clinging to the comfort of his bed. 

Virgil's mornings didn't always start like this, no, this only happened about once a week.

"...Ow." The slumped body on the floor moaned, sitting himself up against the wall. A hand went through his dark brown and messy ombre violet locks of hair, rubbing the side of his head. That would be a lovely headache to deal with today. Eventually succumbing to the fact that he had to get up, Virgil stood, stretching his still-tired and now sore body. One day, he just had to get through this one day. It was a Friday, meaning the day that ended social suicide days of school. Just have to make it through.

Staggering to the other side of his room, the teen yanked open his stubbornly stuck drawer just enough to pull out some folded clothes. Throwing on his uniform, which was a strikingly dull all black (though all solid colors were accepted, really, what was more neutral than black?) short sleeved polo with the school's white crest embroidered in the corner, and full length khaki dress pants, Virgil stifled a yawn. He hadn't gotten much sleep, then again, did he ever? The dark circles under his eyes were as noticeable as ever. Such a fashion statement. Eh, who cares.

Then, he had to tackle the 'mess', also known as his hair. It did its own thing, though he did put his own choice of color in, that was one thing he could like about his hair. Quickly running a comb through his naturally waved strands to flatten them out, he swept it all to the side. There really wasn't much to be done to his appearance otherwise, because he quite literally didn't care enough to be a 'pretty boy', but he wasn't enough of a barbarian to walk outside saying he woke up a certain way, and actually have it be shown how he woke up. That, in his opinion, was chaotically hideous. Remus would and had done that many times though, it was hilarious. But him, average. He would be average. That was okay.

Walking down the stairs, Virgil made brief eye contact with his father, who was tucking a black ascot underneath his white button up shirt. The man had a strict dress code at work, but for crying out loud, no one wore those old fashioned scarves  anymore, and he knew that even though he was not well-versed in fashion. "Mornin'." The teen mumbled, dragging himself the rest of the way down with the railing. His dad, a man of his late 30s, 37 to be exact, let out a small, stifled laugh. 

"You look dead." The other male taunted, his gravelly voice being lined with hints of his remaining amusement. "In a seventeen-year-old burn out way."

Glaring at the figure, the emo clicked his tongue in retaliation. "You made me, old man." Virgil bit back, taking a brown paper bag out of his parental's hands. The two had an interesting dynamic of both calling both out for their flaws, yet still somehow tolerating each other. Their bond was probably forged from Friday take-out, though, and it would likely stay that way. "Hey, tonight, get us food from that Chinese place down the street. I heard it's pretty good."

Virgil's father only nodded, watching his son with a weird smile on his face. Ah, he was in one of 'those' moods again. Those weird days parents would just contemplate their life's work, in this case, him, with a weird satisfaction. Parents.

"Do all your homework?"
"Got nothing better to do."
"Have everything you need."
"Yeah."

Smiling to himself, the father nodded, "Okay then sport. Seems like you are ready to go."

The violet haired teen raised an eyebrow. Sport? Typical dad. He wasn't eight anymore, that's for sure, but he would be in his dad's eyes, probably until the end of time. At least he was trying. "Yeah, right..." Virgil awkwardly laughed, grabbing his backpack and putting a hand on the doorknob. It was always great to talk with dad, but he really just wanted the day to be over with already. No time to waste. With one last glance in the other's direction, and a bit of a salute, the teen twisted his wrist, letting the door open. "- Well, see ya later." He spoke, turning and taking his first steps out into the sand-covered wastelands that were the outskirts of his house, before yelling back inside. "By the way, we're burning that ascot after today. You really need to learn how to tie a real tie." 

☁︎

Well if he thought it was bright before, then this was either the gates to heaven, or his own personal hell. Still, at least the walk to school was more or less peaceful. Just him, the blazing sun, the waves of the ocean, and the sneaky grains of course sand that somehow always found their way into his shoes. Yes, yes, there wasn't a singular place in all of Saefiah City that you could walk to without getting sand-invaded footwear. Having so much beach was supposed to be part of the whole rich and upstate tropical getaway aesthetic, but Virgil personally would appreciate just a little less aesthetic and a little more functionality. Island paradises were overrated anyways.

Seeing a group of seagulls headed his way, the young teen started to quicken his pace. Seagulls were mean, and he had food. There was absolutely no way he was about to be bullied and beaten for his lunch by a flock of birds. Lucky for him, it seemed like they weren't interested today, and kept on flying by. One good thing, maybe today wouldn't be so bad then. Even so... his gut was telling him to be on guard.

There was always the patch of noise, though, that was in his route to the school. The coastal, public beach. People came from all around just to stare at their water and get murdered by UV radiation. Still, it was nice to see all the non-locals just having a fun time. The Elementary school was on their field trip today too, they did trips around the beaches often, so there were a lot of kids today.

Worming his way around the colorful umbrellas of morning beachgoers and tourists with excessive sunburn, he spotted a group of said elementary kids playing around one of those little tiny pools in the natural rock formations. Actually- they were on a very unstable cliff-like ledge. Ridgeback. He'd heard someone had once died after they fell from there because there used to be other sharp rocks surrounding the area that they'd landed on. Still, he imagined a fall now from that height would still be just as dangerous. Where was their teacher? They shouldn't be up there... One wrong move and... 

It was like a scene from a movie. A figure moved their foot just a little too far over, and like he'd experienced this morning, there was nothing underneath her to stop the inevitable. Her body tipped backwards, falling gracefully like a bird without wings. Or, you know, as graceful as a toddler falling to certain doom sets. Like a cry from a Banshee, she wailed, "Ahh!"

Shit. Shit Shit Shit.

Virgil wasn't a hero, he wasn't the type to jump headfirst whenever there was danger. But something inside him told him he needed to run. He was a protector though, if it could be helped, and considering there was no imminent danger on his side of things, he had to be such. Adrenaline and fear pumped through his veins as he darted across the edge of the shore, though to him, it seemed the world was in a dark blur of slow-motion hysteria. No matter how fast he ran, though, he- he wasn't going to make it. He wasn't going to make it. They were going to hit the ground. In desperation, the teen leapt into the air, reaching out his arms for the figure, bracing for the impact. The child, who he now recognized to be the Jenson's, his own teacher's, little girl, Abigail, fell into his arms. Virgil hugged her close right before the two hit the ground. Hard.

.

.

.

Still alive: check. No broken bones: check. Good enough for now. The teen slowly sat up, shaking his head as if he was snapping back into reality. Abby- was she okay? Virgil looked down, only to find her, seemingly unharmed, still clinging to his chest, whimpering. Taking a few shallowed breaths, still in a bit of a panic, the teen fell back onto the sand, processing everything that just happened. Safe, he was safe, she was safe. Everything was fine. It was fine. Breathe.

It seemed as though a crowd of those who had seen the event were gathering around the pair. Abigail soon hopped out of his arms, hugging the leg of one of the men standing over him, who held out his hand. Virgil's violet eyes stared at it for a few seconds, before grabbing ahold, letting himself be pulled back up. Woah, wait- there were way more people here than there were before. Was that the news? Wha-

" You- You saved my daughter!" The man, who Virgil now recognized to be Mr. Jensen, exclaimed, shaking his hand vigorously. "He saved my daughter!" The grown man cried, staring back at the mass swarm of people around, now picking up his child, protectively. Ah, yeah, that was great and all, but did he have to make a scene..? It wasn't a big deal... 
"Look up there!" A voice called out, interrupting his thoughts and attempt to respond to the other. Someone had their finger pointed in the air, back to the rocks, where the rest of the kids were still standing. There was another person with them now. Tall, tanned, dark chestnut hair and somehow sparkling umber eyes. Please, wait, don't let it be /him/.

"Fear not! I will aid the rest of these children!"
Roman.
"Yo! Stop with the speeches and send the kids down already! I wanna go talk to Virgin!"
  At least Remus was here too.

Virgil sighed. The Kingston twins. Polar opposites. Roman, the valiant, princely type of guy. President of the Student Council, popular, Straight A kind of guy. Disgusting. On the other end was Remus. Remus was... a character. He had the tendency to be quite direct, er, flamboyant, violent, and a whole new dictionary full of uninvented words that could be used to describe him. Let's just say, he was a not-very well liked person. That's why he, besides a third in their little group, was Virgil's best friend. God help their mother though... Seeing those two had the situation handled, Virgil dusted off his clothes, quietly dipping through the sea of people, now cheering the pair on, to get his backpack, which he'd apparently thrown in the heat of the moment. Everyone was focused on that ledge, it was the perfect time to escape. He still had to get to school, after all. No way was he about to be late for some act of heroism. That wasn't his game. There was, however, one person who hadn't taken their eyes off him, and they were running back his way. Without the time to say a word, he was greeted with a pair of blissful eyes as the young girl stopped in her tracks right before him.

"Thank you Vee-Vee." Abby whispered, holding out her hand, turning over one of Virgil's own, and placing something in it. It was small, smooth, somewhat round. The male slowly reopened his palm. It was one of those small, pinkish-peach seashells that you could find pretty much anywhere buried around the water. Smiling softly, he dropped it back in the girl's hand.
"Keep it, it matches your pretty dress." Virgil responded, curling the other's fingers around the object for a tighter grip. "No more going up there though, 'kay? You could get hurt."
Abigail grinned back at him, nodding. "M'kay!" She answered, quickly, before running back to her father, and her friends, who were just about down and safe. Time to book it, before he was swarmed again. As anyone could tell, he wasn't a "people" person. Without a moment to lose, Virgil was heading down through the streets of the nearby marketplaces. Hopefully he wouldn't be late...

☁︎

He was a bit over-anxious when it came to the concept of time. He'd run all the way across town, and still had fifteen minutes to spare. He could have picked up a new lunch, as his had gotten practically crushed under the weight of his books during the whole "incident". Squished lunch was better than no lunch, though. Because everyone knew that the school food war either some brain-rotting chemical from the government, or poison. Obviously.

Opening the door to his class, he immediately recognized a familiar face. Virgil took a seat next to him. "S'up Dee." The still slightly sand-covered teen mumbled, acknowledging the other's existence, and putting his head on his desk. He was tired, and now, even more sore than when he'd first left the house, thanks to his swan dive headfirst into the not-as-soft-as-you-would-think beach floor. What a sad excuse for a painkiller Ibuprofen was...

Dean, or as Virgil and Remus called him, "Dee" raised an eyebrow. "Well you /totally don't/ look like death now, do you?" The yellow-beanie-wearing seventeen-year-old sarcastically commented, staring him up and down. "And just what, might I ask, were you doing THIS time?" Dean inquired, giving his friend a bit of a 'disappointed but not surprised' look. A thought then came to mind, as he put a hand up to cover his mouth, looking as if though he was shocked. "The government didn't send their spy birds after you again, did they?"

"Wha- no!" The other picked his head up yet again. "And for the last time, seagulls are just seagulls. They were not sent by the government to spy on us." Virgil rolled his eyes, to which Dean smiled coyly. Slightly annoyed, as he'd managed to get underneath his skin yet again, the male clicked his tongue. "I had to help Mr. Jensen's girl. She was going to fall off Ridgeback Peak."

Dean seemed to be genuinely taken aback at this. "Really now?" The snakelike (in mannerisms) teen mumbled. "How unusual, I never took you as the hero figure of the city Virgil. Have you been holding out on me?" The artistic boy asked, putting away his sketchbook. Dee was always good with art like that. He was also one hell of a sly, lawyer-type of debater. The other considered it a shame that he didn't sneak a peak at whatever he was working on while he still had the opportunity. Oh well.

"Yeah, fat chance of that happening." The groggy teen half-laughed, running a hand through his purple and now sandy-tipped locks. "Besides, Sir-Sing-Alot and his slave Remus showed up afterwards." Virgil commented, sighing. "We really need to just steal Remus one of these days. I'm sure living with one of us would be waaay better than living with Roman Kingston-"

"Did someone say my name?" A voice spoke from behind, resting their hands on Virgil's shoulders as if he were a piece of furniture. Ah, great. Speak the Devil's name, and he appears. "Nice job with the rescue today, padre. I didn't know you had enough strength to catch her. Then again... You did fall."

"Stop. Get away from my acquaintances before I rip your hair out of your skull and bludgeon whatever pea-sized brain you have hidden away inside of it." Remus chimed in, smiling maniacally as he took the other seat next to Virgil. Then, as if he didn't just make the threat of the century, he changed his demeanor. "I can't believe you left me alone Virgie! To help kids too! It was awful!"

His brother let out a "tsk" before mumbling to himself as he sat on the far end of the room, right in the front row. Virgil smirked, satisfied in watching the other retreat from this battle. Served him right after all these twelve years of relentless name calling. He looked back at his friend. "Sorry, but I'm pretty sure I'm allergic to your brother. I couldn't take another second of looking at his face" The dark-clothed classmate jeered, still staring at Roman's outline with a death glare.

The bell rang with his last statement, as all of the last-minute stragglers quickly sat down. "Alright class! Settle down now!" Mrs. Jensen, their homeroom teacher, cooed. She was just one of those nice teachers everyone liked and didn't cause problems with, so the room got quiet relatively quickly. Still Virgil knew she didn't like him. But her golden-ribbon curls bounced in the same way of a certain little girl he knew as her feigned bubbly personality shone through. "Now before we begin, Roman, thank you for your bravery this morning in saving my daughter and her friends." The teacher praised, giving him the biggest of smiles. News traveled fast it seemed, as it looked like the whole class knew what she was referring to, as a round of applause was had. Typical Princey getting the glory. Not that he cared, in fact, he was grateful Roman was getting the credit for this. He was worried he'd be exposed once the news got there...

"Hey! Wait a second! Virgil saved Abby! Roman just got the other kids down!" Remus yelled, pulling out his phone. Sure enough, there was already a video... Oh god why did there have to be a video?!?! Virgil watched in public humiliation as he relived the whole ordeal. It was so much faster than he remembered. "And I helped too! See!?" The chaotic twin pointed out, accidentally pausing the video as he tapped the screen, but the proof was still there. Remus could just picture Roman sulking in the corner of the room as some of his glory was stolen away from him. 
  Mrs. Jensen too, seemed conflicted at what she'd just witnessed, seeming like she didn't want to acknowledge this. It wasn't just the work of the golden child anymore. Now she owed the welfare of her child to the brother and the loner emo kid of her class. "Right- well thank you to the three of you then. Now everyone open up your planners..." The woman stated, her sentence mildly trailing off as he went to go get chalk and write something on the blackboard.

Virgil, whipping his head around, immediately hissed at Remus, mentally strangling him from his seat as he heard the muffled laughter of his other friend on his right. Yeah, he knew today wasn't going to be a good day. Why did he even bother being optimistic..? None of that mattered though, because the period was starting, and that meant he was that much closer to having it done with. Just... he just had to get through it. Then everything would be okay.

☁︎

Lunchtime. Finally. He thought the absolute torture that was Calculus would never end. Math, right when you are the most hungry, and are so close to the sweet release of food, absolutely sucked. At least he understood what they were learning today. Derivatives were pretty easy for the most part. Concepts were easy, and, not to brag or anything, he was pretty darn good back in Algebra. If he wasn't so antisocial, he could probably be a Mathlete. Actually, on second thought, it was probably good he didn't like most people. He had enough of a bad reputation already.

Picking up his textbook and shoving it back inside his bulked-up backpack, Virgil stumbled back out into the hallway.  He'd have to stop by his locker before heading to the cafeteria, because his back did not appreciate the extra weight of his now unnecessary Calc book. Maybe the nurse would give him more Ibuprofen if he stopped by there too. Then again, he could accidentally overdose and die, so pain it was. Walking to his little corner in the emptied hall, Virgil keyed in his password, which, of course, was 'MCR1219.' With a soft yet always somewhat startling click, the door opened. He didn't have much inside, just a black-and-purple patchwork hoodie he kept with him when it got cold. It wasn't dress code approved, but he only wore it off school grounds anyways, so no one would ever know. He took his heavy blue book and shoved it back on its top shelf before sealing 'the vault' back up.

With that, he was now walking in the complete opposite direction to get to the lunchroom. It wasn't far, just a floor down, Taking the elevator would just take up more time, and he wanted to eat his flattened sandwich already. So, he descended a flight of stairs. To the immediate left was his destination. Virgil snuck in, only to be flagged down by Dean, who'd once again, saved their table from the evil freshmen who always tried to steal their territory. The teen sat down, taking out his paper lunchbag, and digging into the remains of what used to be two pieces of fluffy bread with peanut butter stuffed between.

"Virgil! Virgie! Virgin! Hey!" Remus chirped, trying to get his attention. The other only glanced at him, before continuing to eat. The chaotic twin growled, "Fine, I'm just gonna tell you. Mom said me and Roman can have some friends on the yacht tonight for our birthday party! Dee's gonna come! You should too! By the way, I really hope you choke on that sandwich. It'd be so much fun to watch!"

Well he didn't choke, but he almost did. "I'm sorry- party? Did you forget who you're talking to? I don't do social gatherings. " Virgil stated, half-coughing thanks to Remus's wild suggestion. "Besides, your brother probably invited the entire Student Council already. Those kids are legitimate assholes." He continued, resting his head in his hand. The Council kids were mostly the school favorites, goody-two-shoes on the outside, but every single one of them were completely evil underneath their little facade.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You do remember I am also seated on the Council, night?" The seventeen-year-old pointed out, hissing slightly as he continued. "Oh come now Virgil. Is it not our duty as comrades to accompany Remus on his endeavors?" The teen raised an eyebrow, folding his hands in the process.  He looked like a homeless lawyer, which was a terrifying combination. "Is it not the job of a good friend to attend a celebration in their honor? Are you choosing your own selfish desires instead of upholding your unspoken promise of brotherhood?"

Oh No

  Virgil's eyes locked with the golden ones staring back at him. That was an understatement. He was being stared down. Remus was averting his own gaze, knowing better than to try to talk to either of them when... this was going on. They were doing 'it' again. Dean was playing V's insecurity- and it was working. The violet haired teen looked like he was going to shit himself. It was hilarious, and there was no way the other could counter. Looked like it would be party time. After all, it was HIS friendly duty to drag him into uncomfortable situations.

Biting the inside of his cheek, the emo turned his head, picking up his sandwich again. "You son of a bitch- fine. But if anyone tries anything funny, I'm throwing myself into the ocean." Virgil grumbled, a little ticked off with the other teen. Hopefully this wouldn't be like the time he was forced into the woods and then left at their campsite alone for hours as a prank. To this day, those two bastards swear he cried, which is entirely not true... he had dirt in his eye...

"Yaay! We're gonna play video games and bother Roman's friends all night bitches!" The chaotic teen practically yelled. Unwanted attention was surely drawn, because half the lunchroom was now staring at the three. A faint, "No you won't!" could be heard from the other side of the room. Yeah, sure, try to deny it. Even Virgil couldn't help but feel bad for Roman in this moment, and that was a major stretch. A major, major stretch.

"You're dragging us on a boat at night just to play video games? Which we could do at your house? On land?" Dean pondered, looking suspicious. "This better not be an attempted assassination by the government or I swear to whatever false god you believe in, I will take you down first." The male promised, adjusting his beanie to cover more of his hair, and giving Remus the side eye.

It- It was time for class.

☁︎

Virgil stood in front of his mirror, having a bit of an internal crisis. He was dressed, his phone was charged, and there most likely wouldn't be alcohol on a yacht full of teenagers. There was absolutely nothing to worry about, besides the usual uncertainty of a freak natural disaster or the launching of a nuclear weapon in his vicinity. Still, the knots in his stomach were coming from somewhere. Was this teenage hormonal mood shifts? No, it was just like before. He needed to be alert, and most importantly, careful. Checking his phone one more time, he knew he wouldn't make it if he waited any longer. One horrible, horrible truth plagued his mind as he swung open his bedroom door.

Here we go.

༻⏝༺| ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ༻⏝༺

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[ 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 | 5,019 ]
[ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 | 29,023 ]
[ 𝘛𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 | Sexual and Dark Humor, Arguing, Mentions of Alcohol, SLIGHT Panic Attacks.]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈

༻⏝༺༻⏝༺

Virgil stood at the edge of the docks, awkwardly waiting around, with at least fifty other kids being too close in his personal space. God, where were they? How could a giant boat be absolutely no where in sight? Where the hell was Dean? Why did he always end up alone in uncomfortable situations? He had to ditch Chinese takeout with his dad for this. Of course, the old man was over the moon about this. After all, his son hadn't gone... anywhere in a year or two at least. Dad even let him wear his old black ripped jeans and leather jacket from his old college band. Apparently you had to look a certain way at these things. He just really wanted to go home

"Hey, don't freak out before we even get on the boat." Dean, who'd once again appeared out of nowhere, spoke. Oh, he'd switched his beanie from yellow to black, now wasn't that fancy? Plus he'd put on a black unzipped zip-up hoodie, but he still had his signature yellow t-shirt on. Since they were out of school, he took full advantage of the lack of dress code to put on the shirt that said "I will find you, FBI Agent that stalks my phone." A true sign of rebellion. Virgil had jumped a little upon the sight, not immediately recognizing his friend. A reassuring smile met his eyes. Still, it wouldn't be enough to calm the teen's ever increasing anxiety, but at least Dee wasn't being an ass to him right now. "Do you need me to go through our breathing exercises again V?"

The emo shook his head. "M'no, I'm fine... I just wanna get this over with though." Virgil admitted, averting his eyes from his friend. He couldn't help but fidget with his hands a bit, though, force of habit. "People are judging and everyone is too happy to be human. Maybe your robot theory wasn't all that crazy." The teen continued, laughing just a bit, trying to relieve some of his built up internal stress. "Remus better not be working for the bourgeois."

Dean chuckled himself, which was uncommon. "Please, Remus is way too idiotic to be working for such a skilled organization. Maybe the aliens at Area 51 would have him though. He would do anything to bang an alien and we know it." The teen theorized, only for the two to make brief eye contact, before they both burst out in laughter. It seemed whatever tension they had from earlier was gone, until a more sullen expression lined the yellow clothed male. "Hey- I'm sorry about... Earlier. I just didn't want you to miss out. Y'know?"

"Yeah yeah. But you... you know how I feel about stuff like this Dee." Virgil started, equally as gloomy-seeming. "I get you want me to have fun, but- I like the way I live right now, and I don't like... other people." The down-cast stricken male tried to explain the way he was feeling. It felt like he was trying to iron out the creases on a stubborn shirt. No matter how many times you went over it with a searing hot piece of metal, there would always seem to be folds and wrinkles in the fabric. No matter how viciously you tried to flatten it, it just wouldn't get the memo, and in the end, you're the one who'll get burned if you aren't careful.

'Ah, stop being edgy and philosophical at the same time...'

The other opened his mouth to answer, seemingly conflicted, right when a booming sound of an airhorn rang about the waters. Virgil fearfully grabbed ahold of Dean's arm, his grip being tight enough to leave marks on the other's skin. The aesthetically golden adorned male brought a hand to the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply at the sight before him. Remus was hanging off the railing of a moving sea vessel with a megaphone in hand. Roman was shouting something inaudible, but it seemed that their compatriot was blatantly ignoring his brother. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to drag Virgil here.... Considering he himself now was having second thoughts about his attendance, and, his life priorities.

"Hi there bags of human flesh! Time to get on the boat! Don't worry, we totally are kidnapping you!" Remus natually shouted, which meant the sound amplified by the megaphone was e x t r a loud. Music was now blasting as well, as the whole dock shook with the beat of whatever song was on. Probably some trashy pop anthem or something. The majority of the group of teenagers laughed it off, as if it was nothing. Pretty much everyone in the school knew to ignore the chaotic twin by now. Still, his two friends couldn't help but feel slightly threatened, and also publicly humiliated by association.

Roman, walking over to the edge of the rail, snatched the object from his brother's hand before quite literally pushing him off the side of the yacht, into the lukewarm ocean. A decent sounding 'sploosh' came from the waters on impact. Roman paid no mind to it, a satisfied grin on his smug face. "Hey everyone! Sorry I'm late! I was getting some more drinks for everyone. We have food, every type of soda you can imagine, a dance floor, an on-deck hot tub, and a giant flat screen for your viewing enjoyment!" The twin called out, sliding down the railing back onto the dock like the inner Disney Princess he was. Virgil silently wished he'd fallen off too as he ran to where Remus had gone under.

"Very classy, Mr. President, sir." Dean smirked, devilishly, making eye contact with the proclaimed man of the hour.

"Indeed, Vice-Me!" Roman shot the look of pride right back at him, either smart enough to give sarcasm, or stupid enough to not detect the sour meaning behind the other's statement. A lion and a snake enter the ring... two to start, one to be the last standing. The higher-up, being 'merciful' in his own point of view, thought of a quick compromise to their little confliction upon seeing Dean's apparent disapproval in his eyes. The Princely figured hummed to himself, a satisfied grin on his face, as he took the other's hand in his own. "Look, you don't have to hang out with those two dorks. Grab some punch and join the real fun. I can teach you how to repair a reputation such as... yours, and we can put this little incident behind us, second-in-command."

Quickly pulling his hand away, a polite scowl on his scarred-in-more-than-one-way face, Dean quietly snicked. "I'd rather die." The figure spat, turning around without any further interaction with his 'regal' boss. Forfeiting such a formidable opponent, how humiliating... but Dean knew how to play his cards. He had that much going for him in this moment. Postpone the battle until he was better armed. For now, he just had to make sure his rival hadn't drowned his friend. Because in that case, there would be blood shed. Upon swiftly making his way to the other's side, he was somewhat relieved to see a drenched head pop its way out of the water. Remus was grinning like a madman, as if he hadn't just fallen at least two stories into shallowed waters. Actually, maybe it was more important to make sure Virgil wasn't going into cardiac arrest...

"That was fun! Your efforts have been in vain, dearest brother!" The disheveled teen shouted, shaking out his wet hair much like a dog. Remus, the living sprinkler, launched himself out of the water, and threw his body back onto the platform. Virgil and Dean glanced at each other briefly, sighing in apparent unison, knowing this would be a long night. A long, long night.

☁︎

When they'd all gotten on board, things were a lot more colorful than expected- and loud. All pigmentation known to the human eye were flashing from disco lights overhead as giant speakers blasted music that was almost unrecognizable as it clashed against the shouting, laughing, and cheering of the group. Roman was already the center of the mayhem, somehow maintaining his regal composure around his band of followers who were already acting like they were drunk on adrenaline and hopefully not alcohol. Virgil glared in the twin's direction and his teeth were soon gritted. He was still not exactly pleased at what had happened on the docks. Not only that, but he was trying exponentially hard to not have a meltdown in front of literally all of the kids with the power to completely murder his social life from his anxieties. Not like he had much of that 'social life', but still.

Fun. "Yeah as much as I love a teenage rave, we have bitches to stab." Remus forcefully grabbed the two who could tolerate him in a bloody video game war and pulled them into a small lounge-like area. There was a hot-tub, a TV, their own speakers, and most importantly, no people. "Welcome to mi casa amigos!" The emerald-eyed male presented. He quickly grabbed something off from the nearby glass coffee table, beaming as he hurried back to the door frame where the other two stood dumbfounded. The teen had so generously presented them with game controllers.

Virgil grabbed the black one out of his friend's hands first, twirling it in his hand a bit before holding it firm and still in his grasp. "Hell yeah, this is much better." The seventeen-year-old walked his way over to one of the luxurious leather sofas and sat himself down. Dean was soon to follow, visibly distraught due to the fact that the only other controller was light pink with sparkles all over it. Probably Roman's. A knowing look of badassery was shared between them all. The three were wickedly competitive when it came to these types of things. Most of the time, the chaotic friend would crush the other two in spontaneous brute force, but quite a few times had the slick one of the bunch bested the others. But, today, an unsuspected two of three had come up with a new battle strategy. Not a second to spare, Remus slammed the power button on the device, and the war began.

They were playing a sort of 'end of the world and every man for himself' PvP game. The name was in a foreign language, so the three weren't exactly sure what to call it. Over the years, they somehow came up with, "Gun Gale IV, the Final Embarking," even though they were pretty sure they'd seen other versions, so maybe the final embarking wasn't the true finale. Everyone pretty much had their own style of gameplay. Remus would go straight for the weapon stash and play the merciless god. Virgil would stick to the camouflaged sniper approach, while Dean would be a mixture of both, playing whatever strategy got Virgil killed first, because he was never a threat. Still, Remus would lay down the most firepower once the two gave away their positions. But no, not today. There was a plan.

☁︎

"Boo! You whores!" Remus exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air at his defeat. "You can't team up! That's against the rules!" A mixture of annoyance and amusement spread across his Cheshire cat-like smile. Instead of trying to fend off their scarily-good-at-shooting friend alone, Virgil and Dean stuck together and lured him to the end-zone area of the map and killed him before he could fire at them again. Not exactly a very 'difficult' idea to come by, but it take all these years for the duo to figure out, so perhaps they were all equally as bad at playing this age old game. "You are both going on my hitlist now!"

Loud fumbling with controllers assured the battle wasn't over as Virgil yelled, "We're already ON your hitlist!" He and Dean had taken Remus out, but that was the easy part. without Remus in the ring, they were pretty evenly matched, but the other always somehow got the better of him. Yeah, not today Satan.

Dean was equally as vigorous as his fingers skillfully clicked his pink controller's buttons. His focus did avert momentarily as he gave his defeated comrade a cocky side-glance. "And since when have you cared about rules? Last I'd recall, you hacked into the server to change the amount of weapons spawned-"

GAME OVER. WINNER: VIRGIL

...Just like that, the war was over. Seventeen years, and tonight was the first time he'd won. Catch him when he thinks he's won, and the crown was his. Two pairs of widened eyes stared at Virgil, who was panting as he dropped his controller. What... even happened? How did he even win? He couldn't remember. It wasn't even that unique or difficult of an accomplishment, and yet, it was as if Virgil had a knife held at the other's throats, and the other two were cowering. He never won. It just didn't happen. It shouldn't happen.

"Holy shit... Virgin beat both of us. Virgin beat /Dean/ at one on one..." Remus spoke up first, a hand covering his mouth. Much like a cat, it was as if his untamed hair was sticking up in alarm. The male looked over to the other, loser, who had somewhat of an unreadable expression. That is, until he began to clap, slowly. The twin did the same, though shrugging it off as Dean hitting the point of insanity.

"Well done Virgil. Seventeen years in the making, that was." The teen commended, every clap echoing as though with a hint of sarcasm. "Today marks a special occasion for two reasons now. Remus is old, and Virgil finally won against us." Bitterness lined his voice ever so slightly, but in his adrenaline, Virgil didn't notice, instead just smiling like a goofball. Dean raised an eyebrow, upon seeing the emo so giddy. "Oh no, Remus, he cracked."

The other, without hesitation, ran toward the violet-haired teen, tackling him to the ground. "Get rid of the evidence!" He shouted, pinning the emo to where he laid. "No witnesses! Dean! Go find me the body bag!"

The citrine-eyed male looked at his hands, like one of those TV villians that always checked and double checked to see if their manicure was still intact while smooth-talking their helpless victim. "Now Remus, he could still be useful to us. Let's see if he values his life enough to plead for it." Dean advised, a smirk hugging the corners of his mouth.

"...As if. Let me perish, see if I care, I'll just haunt you from my grave." The seemingly 'defenseless' Virgil snapped, shooting that same glare back at the kingpin of the group.

The three glanced at each-other, briefly, before succumbing to laughter. Remus rolled off the emo of the group in the mass hysteria, Dean hugging his chest as he dropped to the floor, and Virgil smacking his fist on the wall that he propped himself up against. He could faintly feel the vibrations of the bustling party on the other side of the room divider. The amethyst-eyed teen had almost forgotten about the social trap he was in, and his momentary sense of relief vanished without a trace. He could feel the constant beating of his heart speed up just a bit at his revelation. It seemed as though the other two took notice, and their laughter trailed off with an awkward tension hanging in the air.

Everyone in the room had their own agendas in life, or at least they thought they did. Sometimes, they lived in harmony with their similar ideaIs. They were teenagers, they played video games, hung out sometimes, talked about much they hated school and their classmates, and life was supposed to be simple. And yet, they weren't getting any younger, and they all had to start developing themselves as individuals, and that's how things started going wrong.

"...Why do we have to hole away here? To cower in the presence of Roman and his brain dead followers?" Dean inquired, averting his gaze from the pairs of eyes looking back at him. The politician. He was the type of person to push his beliefs onto others, both good and bad. Remus didn't question him, being a loyal hound on a leash. But his second hound, recently, has been slipping away . "Shouldn't we be out there? Holding up our middle-fingers to their hierarchy? Why do we stay like this? You guys?"

"I don't care about any of that, I just wanna annoy the shit out of everyone on the other side of that wall. V? Wanna go put some ice in Roman's pants?"

"I-"

Did they listen to what he's been saying for weeks now? Once?

"I have an idea, how about we just dump the whole punch bowl over his head?"

He didn't want to.

"And then shove the ice in his pants?"

This isn't how he remembered his friends. Stop, please...

"...Sure. What you do with your brother's pants is your business."

"I don't want to be an ass to people!"

Boom .

A mighty crash came from the sky, booming over all else. All three boys jumped at the sound. Thunder. There wasn't supposed to be any storms tonight, the forecast was clear skies for the whole state, and every person on this yacht knew that for a fact. So... what was thunder doing here? Invading their party on the high seas? A dagger-like drop went through Virgil's whole body as his vision illuminated into a flash of white light for a split second. He didn't like this, thunder, yes, but something was wrong. Something /is/ wrong.

"You... We all heard that... Right?" Remus asked, his breath hitched as if he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. He wasn't the type to get spooked by this type of stuff, so that was unsettling. Until- "It's the Kraken! We get to be his sacrifices! This is the best fucking day of my soon-to-be-over life!" Nevermind.

"Oh pipe down, will you?" The snakelike teen hissed. His self preservation instincts were kicking in. He brought a leather gloved hand to his chin, in sudden, unreadable thought. It seemed that after a few seconds, he formulated an answer in his head. "It was probably just someone blowing a speaker, but let's go check. Because I am not about to die at sea. Gunpoint only." Dean spoke, eyeing Virgil with a sense of extreme hesitance. The two, for now, could only stare at each other, wondering just what was going through the others' mind. Probably a lot, all things considered.

With that, the male slid open the door, to an unnervingly quiet outside world. The music had seemingly stopped, and only the sounds of shaken mummers could be heard from the open sitting room not too far away. Remus followed eagerly behind as Dean took the lead, a spring in his step, dragging along a fear-stricken Virgil, who was trailing behind. The twin gave him a half-reassuring, half-terrifying grin as the trio trudged through the endless, twisting, contorting hallway. Or maybe it just seemed that way in a terrified state. It was probably nothing though, and then they could all go back to their little room and- talk.

When they arrived, everyone was shocked at what they saw. Snow. In a tropical region. The boat swayed as monstrous waves crashed against the glass windows/doors separating them from the deck, a stream of water trailing into the room from very small cracks in the clear dividers. Roman stood at the front of all the mayhem, of course, carrying at least five sandbags in his arms. "Everyone stay away from doors and windows! Able bodies please assist in blocking all entryways!" Ah, his hero instincts were in full force. That was twice in one day. Grimacing from the pressure of the weight pulling him down, his honey eyes caught a glimpse of his twin. "Remus! Get over here!"

The teen let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms. "Damn... Why can't we just submit to a watery grave?"

"Remus!"

"Oh fine." The twin sneered, rolling up his sleeves as he took a scoop into the pile of sandbags on the floor and grabbed as many as he could physically lift, lugging them across the room with his freakish strength. Roman was expected, but in Remus's case, it was slightly alarming that he could hold such weight. Hopefully he was just joking when he mentioned those body bags earlier...

And Virgil stood there, holding his arms behind his back in fear, watching, already getting a bit lost and caught up in what he'd said, and now, whatever the hell situation they were in now. Why... Why did he come? He should be at home...

Meanwhile the princely twin wiped beads of sweat from his forehead as he looked around, knowing, well, believing things weren't getting done fast enough. Alright, it was snowing, in Saefiah, and they were on a boat that wasn't heated. No big deal. The captain knew what he was doing, they'd probably dock somewhere soon. He just had to make sure they didn't drown first. Unfortunately, the water was rushing from all sides, and no one was volunteering to assist, and his brother was complaining endlessly in his ear. He needed an extra set of hands... and who better than his right-hand man!?! Genius! "Dean! Get your sparkly 1920's aesthetic ass over here and help!"

The citrine-eyed male crossed his arms, almost laughing at that statement. "I have asthma you prick." Dean spat. "I can't even lift one of those without collapsing on you. I don't think you'd want that."

Roman cursed under his breath. Right, he knew that, his plan was flawed. He was slipping. Losing his heroic instinct. Think Kingston, what can you do in this situation? Ah! "Virgin! Velociraptor! Whatever your name is, help us out here!" The teen cried out, his voice howling out like a military drill instructor. Not the ideal choice, but his highness was running out of options, time, and desperate.

Hmm? What was going on agai- oh. "...What?" Virgil breathed out, in a half-whisper. No, no he couldn't . "...I can't-" The boy's breathing became awfully uneven. Oh god they were gonna die... They were gonna die! And he couldn't do anything! Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he fell onto his knees. He yelled at Dean... He was stuck on a ship with everyone who ever hated him in a motherfucking blizzard... It was getting so cold. His shoes were sopping up the water that was underneath his feet and his hands were going numb. He clawed at his hair, in a desperate attempt to keep himself from passing out. The heartbeat in his chest was loud enough that he could hear it in his head like a drum, banging and pulsing through him entirely.

In the sudden screams as the ship tilted harshly to it's side, there was a voice. "Hey kiddo, I'm gonna need you to breathe for me, okay? Everything's gonna be okay." The coaxing voice soothed, kneeling down beside him, putting his hand on his shoulder. What? Who- "Just breathe, we're all gonna be just fine, but we gotta help out for that to happen, okay? Just breathe, in and out."

"Patton! I need you both over here ASAP!" The chestnut-eyed male shouted from the point of all the action.

"I'm working on it RoRo! You're doing great by the way!" The ash-colored brunette called out, a soft smile on his freckled face. His ice-blue eyes turned to face another as he reassuringly ran his fingers through Virgil's ombre hair. It was... "Logan~ do you mind running your statistics again dear? No pressure though dear!"

Hesitantly, Virgil picked his head up, asking, quietly. "Why... are you feeding into his ego?"

The unfamiliar figure smiled, his light brown, curly locks bouncing as he tilted his head. "Kiddo, if it means we make it out alive, I'll do whatever I have to. Besides, it makes him happy. When he's happy, I'm happy." The boy beamed. "It'd make me extra happy if you were happy too, Vee. At least that's what I think your name is! It's neat! Like your hair!"

"Certainly." Another person suddenly spoke, and the fast clicking sound of what Virgil suspected to be typing on a keyboard followed soon after. He couldn't see the other thanks to the tight embrace the violet-eyed teen was locked in. With a few more clicks, the mystery voice cleared his throat. "We have only a 30% chance of capsizing due to wave height. Depending on how fast we are rescued and/or how long this blizzard lasts, our hypothermia probability increases by 10% every hour, assuming no one falls overboard, in which case their death rate increases by 30% every hour, though that statistic is an estimation. The human body is not absolute in what exactly it can handle due to each individuals own health status and underlying conditions."

[ic]The tanned twin looked over his shoulder at the logician. "So no instant death?" Roman asked, setting down his sandbags against the door frame and curiously peeking at Logan's computer, although Virgil couldn't see any of it. "Ooh hey your weird numbers make a rainbow." The teen pointed out, much like a curiously observant child with a coloring book. "Your computer's gay Logan."

"Is this pertinent information as of right now?" The black-haired classmate asked, giving the princely figure the side-eye, clearly in adamant annoyance. "And so are you, yet do you see me calling you out for it when we are in danger?"

"Why the flying fuck am I the only one working here?!" Remus howled, chucking one of his heavy bags filled with sand in his twin's direction, smacking it against Roman's chest with a loud 'thud'. His brother let out a bit of a low whine, both in pain and annoyance. "I have no problem with being the next Titanic, but apparently you shiny people with lives, do. So, in terms of the British, get off your arses and do a damn thing." The emerald-eyed male called out, slamming another pile of sandbags against the floor with a sickening 'snap ' as the room went silent.

Then, slowly, Virgil got up. Remus... was right. That was a scary concept itself, but he was right. This was not the time to have a full-blown panic attack. Not that he had a life, no, but he did care about not-dying, and panic wasn't going to help him with that. The idea and uncertainty of death overruled his natural fleeing instincts. A fear causing him to fight against another fear of impending doom. Here he was, on the ground, with a stranger stroking his hair just because he was scared? This would forever be engraved in his mind. This callous contradiction would surely go down in his own personal history as one of his lowest points. to think... he let a zombified popular kid comfort him. What kind of bullshit was he playing at today?

"Are you alright now kiddo?" The bright eyed, freckle dusted teen asked. His movements were slow, cautious even, like a father doing his best to help his son. Virgil, however, only grunted as a response, sloshing his drenched feet over to grab some sandbags, and a lot of them. Patton didn't say another word as he followed behind, giving a last reassuring smile before disappearing behind Roman, tapping lightly on his shoulder.

The princely twin stopped in his tracks, raising a hand over his mouth, covering an involuntary flirtatious grin spread across his face. "Well now, you aren't as weak as I had anticipated." The teen mumbled, his white, model-like teeth biting down at the corner of his mouth. "Just try and keep up, alright?" Roman scoffed, swinging his load to the ground. He glanced back at his guests, a bit of confliction stirring in his chest, seeing the lot of them were still cowering under tables and behind the sofas. The wall-mounted flat screen suddenly unhinged from the wall, crashing down and shattering into a million pieces of sharpened glass. Most of them screamed. As much as Roman was a natural-born knight-in-shining-armor, his damsels and dude-sels were just being wimps in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, who was it that saved the girl today?" Virgil called the other out, coyly. It was always fun to punch at the twin's ego. He'd probably go mental if he had a brother that even compared to Roman in the slightest. Actually, that's probably why Remus was mentally unstable.

The boy-band haired twin rolled his eyes, bitterly marching right up to the violet adorned classmate, poking his finger against Virgil's chest. "I'm sorry, who saved the rest of them while you ran away like the coward you are!" Roman jeered, snaring with irritability. "You were on the ground five seconds ago, about to cry your eyes out!"

"I'm sorry not all of us want to just jump at the chance to be a hero all the time!" The emo snapped back, half-laughing, a less heated demeanor than his opposer, but still equally as passed off. He was helping now! What more did Roman want from him?!

"I loathe you!"

"I loathed you first!"

Without warning, the glass on one of the doors burst, and in a matter of seconds, the entire room was filled to the brim with rushing, freezing water. A feeling of ten thousand knives pricking through his paled skin sent Virgil into a state of almost shock. His eyes burned as he attempted to see anything in the now completely dark world. His arms frantically flailed around with a certain desperation. He couldn't go up, there was a roof over his head. Virgil felt as though he was being choked by relentless hands as he gasped, attempting to breathe.

Dean... where was Dean when he needed him?

Virgil helplessly watched as his vision went black. FinaI thoughts? Anything left to say to the world?

He was tired.

༻⏝༺| ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ༻⏝༺