Chapter Text
Isaac POV:
⚙︎・•●⚙︎
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The first time that Isaac Night felt the hard stone floors of Nevermore Academy under the soles of his hard-worn shoes, he wondered what treasures the school might have in store for him. His father had told him that Nevermore was a boundless fountain of opportunity; vampires, werewolves, sirens and DaVinci’s such as himself all gathered under one ancient, crumbling roof. Now, upon gazing on the scene himself, he felt for a euphoric moment as though his father’s words may be true.
Still, it was apparent from the moment that Isaac and his sister Francoise had stepped into the buzzing throng of excitable students—some reuniting with friends since the summer, some fresh new faces such as their own—that they did not quite ‘fit in’ with the schoolyard’s norm. Groups of students, their skin glowing with sun-warmed tans and a healthy flush, darted past to chase and tackle one another, and Isaac felt a dull twinge in his heart that was different from the physical pains he usually endured. His weak heart had always made him fragile, and as a young pack of werewolves thundered past, he couldn’t remember the last time he had ever walked—let alone run—with such freedom.
He felt a clammy hand squeeze his own: Francoise. She looked up at him and, despite her warm smile, her face was pale and there was an uneasy look in her dark eyes.
“Don't worry,” he whispered, pulling her into a warm embrace. He smiled and hoped his looked genuine. “I’ll find you as soon as I can.”
Francoise nodded, burying her face into the sleeve of his coat momentarily before pulling away. Shooting him a final goodbye glance, she joined a gaggle of girls walking through the stone archway into the bowels of the school. For as long as he could remember, Isaac could not recall a single period in his life in which he had been separated from his sister, from his early bed-ridden days to her first transformation, and it was a new and uneasy feeling to watch her disappear amongst the crowd. But now was not a time for weakness or sentimentality, he reminded himself. Bracing his shoulders, he too walked towards the crowd and into the school.
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The name “Caliban Hall” had meant little to Isaac when assigned his dorm, but upon entering, the air seemed denser with the permeating scent of candle wax, and stained glass windows bled an eerie green glow across the cracked stone floor. A gargoyle sat watching from the banister of a staircase as Isaac slowly ascended the stairs and studied the little silver numbers on the wooden doors. 28... 29... 30.
His steps halted in front of the large, arching doorway of his room. His hand hovered over the handle for a moment and he cursed himself inwardly; he had made a promise to himself to seize every opportunity this place offered, yet here he stood, afraid to open a door.
Before his thoughts could catch up with him, the door flew open. In the doorway stood a boy with slick black hair and a cheerful smile.
“Hello,” said the boy, eyes gleaming. “Are you my roommate?”
Isaac faltered for a moment under the expectant gaze of the boy. “Yes, uhm—I think so.”
The boy grinned wider and pushed the door open fully. “Bienvenido!”
“W-what?” Stammered Isaac. The boy let out a loud laugh. “Welcome.”
The room was huge—larger than his own at home, certainly. His side, bare save for the lone suitcase sat at the foot of his bed, was adorned with an olive canopy and the walls lined in dark oak. Three tall green-patterned stained glass windows sat on the farthest wall, casting a pale light into the room.
“Not bad, huh?” Said the boy as Isaac entered, standing to lean against the banister of his own canopy bed. His side of the room was barely visible behind the stacks of expensive-looking black leather cases. “It’s a bit small, but we’ll manage.”
Isaac wasn’t sure how to reply, so he only nodded. “It’s lovely,” he said almost reverently, and was surprised by the sincerity in his own voice.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Asked the boy, indicating to Isaac’s somewhat antiquated case.
The boy’s words were not meant unkindly, but they brought a flush of discomfort all the same. Isaac studied the boy’s finely tailored suit, his piles of rich leather cases and his elegant haircut; with fresh shame, he became all too aware of his own coat (his father’s, which hung loosely on his boyish frame), and his unruly curls that lay unkempt over his forehead.
“Yes,” replied Isaac stiffly. “I didn’t realise I needed to pack so much.”
“Oh,” the boy laughed, waving his hand dismissively at his own stacks of luggage, “Lurch worries too much.”
The boy stepped forward and offered a hand covered in silver rings. “Gomez Addams.”
Isaac offered his own hand and shook the boy—Gomez’s—hand. “Isaac Night.”
Gomez must’ve noticed the ring on Isaac’s own hand because he pointed to it. “Nice. Is that a family ring?”
“Yes, it is,” said Isaac, twisting it shyly. This was true; despite his father’s qualms about his sickly son, he had insisted on Isaac taking the ring with promises to keep it safe. Before their fall from wealth, the House of Night had once been a highly respected aristocratic family.
“So, er, Isaac,” said Gomez. “What’s your thing?”
“My thing?”
“Yeah,” said Gomez. “Your thing.”
“Oh,” Isaac laughed. “I’m a DaVinci.”
Gomez’s boyish face was bright and expectant so, realising what he needed to do, Isaac raised his steady right hand and levitated his case high into the air, letting it spin once before setting it back down.
“Wow,” said Gomez with a grin. Isaac smiled and swallowed the small strain that tugged in his chest. “And yours?”
Gomez flexed his hands at his sides, and branches of live electricity crackled between his fingers.
“Woah,” breathed Isaac, staring in fascinated intrigue. “I’ve never seen that before.”
“Pretty cool, no?” Gomez grinned, loosing a spark at the floor before swearing and stamping out the tiny flame that licked at the wooden beam.
“Really cool,” muttered Isaac, his eyes lingering on the faint scorch mark the spark had left behind. When he finally looked up, his lips curved into the first genuine smile of the day. “Gomez, it’s really nice to meet you.”