Ghiram College (p) (I am Loki... of Asgard and I)

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  • College.. It's an eventual stage we all must go through in order to have a decent chance at life, economically-wise, because, what's more important these days than a slip of green paper? Not much, not even family but we all manage one way or another.
    This year is the second for you of how many you wish to accelerate into for your future career, depending on it's class and everything. New people pour in of all ages, some even older than the natural but they all mean the same. Being new in a place like this is something to look forwards to, because a student older than you or about the same age, will be assigned as what we call, 'Guardian's' - please excuse the name, my friend - and they will help you get by. If you're lucky, your Guardian will be your roommate for the semester or even longer.
    I hope you have a great year, since the rules are simple. See you around
    -Headmaster, Faron



    Cassiel Stolks . Twenty-one . Male
    [hr]
    I shuffle along through the musky dorm room, the reminder of rebelling-adolescent fools thick in the rooms atmosphere as I hope to inhale semi-clean air into the health of my lungs. This stench cannot be decent for ones well-being.
    I brush the thought aside for the moment, straining to life my abnormally weighing suit case into the air to be placed upon the heater that poked out of the wall. I didn't want to bend down at this moment, too lazy to really give much a care and I had no explanation why, exactly. Sure, I wasn't the most athletic of kids but I was rather decent at running. Today, just wasn't in my favor I suppose.


    It was only the first day back in college since summer vacation - which was alright, I suppose - finished about a week ago. I disliked the heat and the cold, being the temperature just right boosted my naturally aloof mood. I'm not shy or anything, I'm just not necessarily fond of talking to people. They kind of were disgusting to me, which explains the cause of my asexuality but sometimes, I even question that.
    Once, this girl had tried to literally get on my - and I won't go into detail - so I just got up and left. Same thing with a guy once, but I did the same thing. Guess people to me aren't all that appealing.


    With my new roommate coming in at any point in time, I make a ram shacking hurry to fold and sort the fabrics into different assorted drawers before me, courtesy of yours truly, OCD. Letting out a silent huff of air when there is a knock at the door, I turn round once setting my things aside to open the wooden mass with ease, eyeing who I see before me,
    "Are you my new roommate?" I ask, brushing away loose strands of dark ebony hairs to eye the newly appeared male. I just hoped he wasn't like the last one. At the thought, I subconsciously shiver, shoving the acrid memories away as bile threatens to rise to the presence of my throat.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by Bᴀʟᴛʜᴀᴢᴀʀ ().

  • [Ugh. First person. Eeurgh. Augh. I guess I'll give it a try because in third person bxb threads, using the same pronouns gets to be very annoying, but it might turn out to be too challenging. Omniscience for the win.
    Some notes first: -I tend to post a reasonable amount of Ooc things. I do hope you don't mind.
    -That's me! You totally described me in the first three paragraphs.
    -I don't even know how a dorm room is set up, so excuse mistakes.
    -I will more than likely start mirror posting the same amount that you do, not on purpose.
    -Also, you know what sucks? Every picture ever taken. None of them fit perfectly with what I imagine. I swear Logan looks like a girl in the one you found. This one has the right eyebrows, mouth, and hair color, so this I choose, although Elijah has eyes of pure, bright blue, ringed with teal.
    -This post is going to be the one to get me to 100,000 fk.]


    [img width=354 height=510]http://data2.whicdn.com/images…Zw1s10s97o1_500_large.jpg[/img]
    [font=times new roman]Eli Harrison . Nineteen . Male


    [hr]
    [font=trebuchet ms] The door swung open, and I came face to face with my "guardian." At least, that's what the headmaster had re-dubbed the roommate system. It was ridiculous, in my opinion. Idiotic, if I was feeling less generous. Although I'd graduated when I was seventeen, this was to be my first year in college. Having already spent a year in 'the real world,' I was less than thrilled to have some preppy college boy think that he needed to show me the ropes.


    However, from a first impression, he didn't seem so bad. I scanned his face, then focused on the room behind him, observing and memorizing in great detail -- a writer's habit. I liked the slim crack in the window and the lighting that was almost too dim; they gave the room a certain gloomy atmosphere. About the man I faced, I liked that he didn't simply assume that I was his roommate. I waited a socially acceptable few seconds before answering, "Yep, that would be me." I smiled and, heaving my suitcase, entered the room.


    Though I wrinkled my nose at the smell, I none-the-less was excited to be here. "S-so, what's your name?" It wasn't excitement or nervousness that caused the extra syllable. I was checking to make sure I was speaking loud enough before I continued with my sentence. Unfortunately, the habit made people think I'm not as intelligent as I am.


  • Cassiel Stolks . Twenty-one . Male
    [hr]
    We stand there for a few reasonable moments, observing as he does the same. Well at least he isn't one of those, best-friends-a-first-sight kind of people. Those were always the worse, the bubbly-kind that is. I wasn't annoyed easily, but it took strangely little to create an uncomfortable atmosphere around, yours truly. Motioning off to the side where my shoulder just brushed the slim of the doorframe, I watched as he simply strode inside, catching a hint of projection-difference in his voice.


    Don't get me wrong, I wasn't a judging-person don't get me wrong, but the light stutter in the dirty-blonde's tone was enough to push me off the doorframe. I wouldn't let my usual individuality get the best of myself this time, but I wasn't about to risk life an limb to make some, friend,
    "Cassiel." I reply simply, not a hint of disturbance or flatness in my voice. Speaking of which, I realized just how naturally deep it was. Rather gruff, yet fluent and dry at the same time. I was often consulted from people all cause of my voice, but eventually others just lost interest. Guess we all do, sometimes.


    Running a hand through the sleek ebony-appearance of my messy strands, I take a silent seat on the bottom bunk until looking up to the now-taller form, "Do you prefer top or bottom?" I ask. Normally I would've chosen the bunk with height, adoring the feeling of being aboveground. Something about being grounded had always bugged me, but I had never truly understood completely why.


    ~~~


    Ooc: You can write in third person if you wish, and I can do the same. I will respect your preferences.
    »All alright with me. I will return with the similar. ^^
    »I described you? Excellent. I suppose I'd be a little more reserved than, he however. I'm not really the social-butterfly amongst my select few of friends.
    »It's no problem with faults, seeing as I have little knowledge of them myself, being from high school and all.
    »I do the same self-consciously so it's nothing to worry about or anything.
    »I know right? It's difficult I find, to choose the most exact replica of a visual-reference of whatever character I create, but I decide to make do with it. He does, hmm? I admire this photograph because of the emphasis in his eyes. They're beautiful. Plus I secretly adore blue-eyes.
    »Cool! It really bugs me when people post about one-two lines when I ask for about a paragraph. I am content that you post reasonably longer than most people I meet. No offense to them, though because they're fairly detailed and literate. Plus in addition, I love all the people I RP with.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by Bᴀʟᴛʜᴀᴢᴀʀ ().

  • [Naw, I'll give first person a shot. Thanks, too; i try to be a good writer.]


    [img width=354 height=510]http://data2.whicdn.com/images…Zw1s10s97o1_500_large.jpg[/img]
    [font=times new roman]Eli Harrison . Nineteen . Male


    [hr]
    [font=trebuchet ms] Cassiel, the man had said was his name. It was nice. Intriguing. I didn't mind chatting -- actually, I loved talking to people -- but, inevitably, they proved themselves to be sadly uneducated and thoroughly uninteresting. From my experience, it would be fruitless to hope that my new roommate was any different The most I felt justifiable to hope for was that Cassiel wouldn't bore me as quickly as those people who couldn't even hold a captivating conversation. But, at least for now, I was perfectly content to be friendly, so I responded with the traditional "Nice to meet you."


    Now, please don't misinterpret my previous explanation. If I act cold or stuck up, I don't realize that I'm doing it. I'm not a glacier. In fact, that isn't how I'd describe myself at all. In my head, I'm amiable, with a good sense of humor, and the only way to unleash the rude, hostile, intolerant side of me is to insult my intelligence. I'll admit, this introspective view is strongly biased, and it may or may not be accurate.


    I laughed -- once --at the phrasing of his question. Hey, I'm only human. It was polite of him, thought I, that he had asked my preference; after all, I was only an underclassman. "I'll take whichever you don' want." To be honest, I could've cared less which bunk was mine, so I thought I'd let Cassiel choose. I had my suspicions about what his choice would be, but I didn't know the man well enough to assume that the most miniscule hint of disparagement I detected when he said the word 'bottom' meant that he wanted the top bunk. It might just mean that he was opposed the the whole hindquarter region in general.


    As part of my brain worked that out, another part brought up a completely different topic altogether. "So, do you want to just forget this whole 'what is college like' thing?" I asked as I pressed my hands down on the dresser that Cassiel had already started to put his things in and leaned on my arms. The headmaster had been very precise in his instructions on how first years and their guardians should interact. "Let's not and say we did."


  • Cassiel Stolks . Twenty-one . Male
    [hr]
    Worthy. That was the inevitable word I chose for this form of a human being. Though most persona's I come to interact with - some more than the lesser - are a natural form of, arrogance, and humility, - think me rude, if you must - This being doesn't seem to be any lesser than they. Perhaps my judgement towards the bitterly-described college year would have been slightly exaggerated, but what is the first thought that comes to mind when you hear the term, 'Guardian'? I assure you I am no knight in shining armor, and I cuss unto myself until the day I come to meet one with such low-expectations and grace.


    Lifting a slight brow at his polite gesture, a slight chuckle escalates to a sturdy laugh from my lips,
    "Pardon me, but I don't believe I caught your name." I honestly say. There was not point to act like the clueless one here, though I am not necessarily implying that my roommate was any lesser or higher than the description. We all naturally commit faults, lest them be foolish or foolhardy.


    Normally I could have brushed the sincerity - was it? - off though I kindly returned his reply with a smile. Perhaps even a genuine one, "I prefer the top bunk. Thank you." Readjusting the formality of my tie, I eye him once more with pacific-blue irises, teal outlining their very existence. I had never truly understood the concept behind, 'the beauty of ones eyes' in all honesty. Actually, I thought it to be rubbish. One couldn't merely see into ones true reflection by the insightful gaze unto boring into the trading counterparts oculars.


    Dismissing the rather useless ordeals from the midst of my mind, another faithful grin etches to the corners of my healthy salmon-colourized lips, "I couldn't agree more." Maybe this year wasn't going to be all that bad, seeing as my roommate was polite, laid-back and rather all-knowing if you understand my implication. Having one less aspect to worry about reduced the stress of the following years development. I just prayed that this wasn't about to turn out to be some deceitful act.

  • [img width=354 height=510]http://data2.whicdn.com/images…Zw1s10s97o1_500_large.jpg[/img]
    [font=times new roman]Eli Harrison . Nineteen . Male


    [hr]
    [font=trebuchet ms] While he spoke, I surveyed my new roommate's appearance. In all honesty, I had probably already made a few assumptions about his personality, despite my best attempts to stop myself from judging a book by its cover. His outfit -- an ensemble that was neat almost to the point of being punctilious -- was formal-academic, and I had to resist describing it as 'highbrow.' He's just straightening his tie, I had to remind myself. It probably doesn't mean he's stuck up. I didn't have much to go on yet in the way of guessing his personality, besides the fact that he'd already put his clothes away in an orderly fashion by the time I'd gotten to the room; I could assume without harm that he wouldn't be the cause of any dorm-room clutter.


    His professional semblance didn't make me think any less of my own image, however. I could typically be found wearing casual clothes: maybe a baseball tee, probably jeans; and today, my first day arriving at college, was no different. In a gesture that could be seen as nervous or neutral, depending on the situation, I slid the knuckles of my right hand across my jaw in the direction of my ear, remembering that several people have described my face as angular -- a fact reinforced by my clean-shavenness. I'd also been told many times that my height was my most daunting aspect -- or, depending on the source, my most attractive one. For this reason, the question was oft put to me of why I didn't have a girlfriend. Answering this was always problematic. How could I say that none of the girls who'd shown interest in me were smart enough to appropriate attraction from me in return? Such a statement would not only offend those poor, witless girls, it would cause my interrogators to question my sexuality. It wasn't that I didn't like women, even as it was not that I liked men. At this point, I had accepted the fact that I'd never be attracted to anyone.


    I was untroubled by his decision to claim the top bunk. In fact, being on the lower level required less effort, which was great; he could carelessly throw himself into bed without having to climb into it. Meeting his gaze, I noted that our eyes were rather similar, although Cassiel's were a deeper shade of blue. He grinned, agreeing that the headmaster's rules could be easily and advantageously be ignored. I was glad of this, and I appreciated that he smiled and laughed easily. People with no sense of humor were always tedious, and I was glad that I wouldn't have to spend my year with someone who acted that way.


    "My name is Elijah Harrison," I said, enjoying the flow of my full name. I've always liked the way it sounded, preferring Elijah to my nickname, but others insisted on shortening it to one syllable. "Most people call me Eli."


  • Cassiel Stolks . Twenty-one . Male
    [hr]
    Though the silence between the two of us was abnormal, I found no sense in becoming any less or more tense than I already was. Unlikely did many find I had trouble with making, 'friends' but my mutual shyness as they put is a common threat to a semi-decent social life. I all truthful honesty, I preferred to be left on my own and work individually. I would that it was something about other human beings that just put me off task, or annoyed me someway somehow. Now, I do not hint that I am a rather irascible or bold person, but the fact that there could be a constant annoyance wringing me by the neck of my senses was no laughing matter and not a primitive understatement to me being what some define as, 'a loner'. We were all open to opinions of own nature, after all.


    Though still, as meaningless time passed between the two of us I found my gaze tethered peculiarly to the others eyes which were of a lighter hue than mine. As I had mentioned before, I didn't show prime interest in the theory of 'eyes reflecting ones soul' but I had always been intrigued by how much depth could course within the shades and hues of ones irises.


    Subconsciously, I ran a hand through the dark of my hair, dishevelling its already poor state of appearance and loosening the tight of my tie. Normally, I paid little attention to the fixation of the sleek, silken fabric but it would accommodate whatever attire necessary I had chosen, quite nicely. Dress-shits and slacks were a common interest of my own, but very little did I pay much need to fix myself to appropriate appearing standards. Honestly, I cared very little of my appearance. As long as I was clean and clothed, than I would be alright but the thought of something loose or tight coating my ghost-pale complexion was distasteful to imagine. Now, don't get me wrong because I found the clothing quick suitable for certain people, but I just happen to one that don't fit accurately into that category.


    Though I assumed he was about a month or two older than myself, his taller-form certainly defined the age he truly was. I wasn't a particularly 'short' individual, standing at about 5'11 but my slimming and light-weighted frame was enough to prove me younger in appearance than I truly was. Some referred to me as a seventeen year-old on most occasions, though when they heard the deep of my natural voice, commonly were they taken aback. When people make simple and petty mistakes as such, I often take no notice and drown out the natural witless world. Whomever sadist manages to pick and pry at my patience are often silenced days afterwards once I slowly but surely adapt to it all. Teasing and taunting Is meaningless to me.


    Elijah I let the name roll over my mental-tongue, intrigued by the sound of it. It wasn't a common name in our generation, but had a peculiar essence to its title. I was quite fond of the name, over my own which was that of an angelic title. Apparently, I had been named after; Cassiel the angel of Saturday,
    "Well it's a privilege to meet you, Elijah Harrison." I reply, taking note of the abbreviations of the caramel-blonds name. Responding shortly afterwards with no rush, nor particular interest in my reply because I honestly preferred the fulfillment of my name, "I am occasionally abbreviated to that of, Cass."


    For a few moments, my mind begins to wander but my gaze doesn't waver from the others. Actually, I expected his own stare to falter and look off elsewhere, intrigued that he hadn't veered from eye-contact just yet. I admit that in, said specific category of specialty, I grew unnaturally and childishly competitive over the silly nonsense. Raised into this respectful, and ever analytical life obtains its few perks. Mine was simply that of immature 'staring-contests'.

  • [Center][img width=354 height=510]http://data2.whicdn.com/images…Zw1s10s97o1_500_large.jpg[/img]
    [font=times new roman]Eli Harrison . Nineteen . Male[/align]
    [hr]
    [font=trebuchet ms] I have Cassiel a half-grin as he communicated how privileged he felt to meet me. Don't worry, I knew that it was just a formality. My smile faded after a while, though - not because I was any less happy, but by means of simple forgetfulness, for my newly meet roommate had trailed off into silence while I was caught up in my thoughts. it was easy to do, in quiet moments: to get lost in my own brain. Right now, I was pondering the stories I wanted to write. I appreciated the fact that Cassiel could keep me company in silence while I thought, instead of trying to quell the quiet with attempts at meaningless small talk.


    As I thought of how preferable the company was of someone who didn't require constant conversation, I realized that my eyes were still locked on the older man's gaze. Was this normal behavior? I want sure, but there seemed to be a hint of challenge in Cassiel's eyes, and I didn't want to back out of a competition this early in the day. If there was to be a contest, then I was going to win. Of course, I was just being silly; he'd probably just spaced out momentarily, and hadn't noticed that he was staring.


    I kept my pale eyes trained on his darker ones, rather intrigued, but after a second I turned away. I still had things to do. Namely, unpacking. As I put my clothes away - shirts in the middle drawer, pants on the bottom, but otherwise no organization to it - I didn't know if Cassiel was still watching. It was okay if he was. I was used to looks from other people, and I figured it was because my appearance was so unique. People had nothing better to do than evaluate someone based on what they looked like, but my new roommate didn't seem like that type.


  • Cassiel Stolks . Twenty-one . Male
    [hr]
    Feeling the subconscious cock of my head weigh off to the left, I squint softly at the smile that dwindled upon the other mans features. I assumed casually that he had been. 'merely lost in thought' and didn't pay a respectful interest in the outcome of, said grin. I knew that I could be rather sheepish, or 'awkward' in a word, but I spoke my mind. Despite the fact that I had common difficulty in isolating the format of; slang, sarcasm and attitude, I felt no unease at the thought of being known as, 'awkward' because in a sense of the word, I was.


    They say, you're supposed to like yourself. Be confident, and trust in your attentions, regardless if they in turn end up being, for the worse, because it's all in human nature, correct? But I cannot help but question that notion constantly whilst I sit alone in the seclusion of my room back home - in the vast arrays of Bethlehem, Israel. Somewhat ironic in the sense, actually - while people roamed the streets in their mutual, human chatter amongst one another. I'd picture myself in different places, place my being in an alternate void to whatever I intend to make of it. In the word, I suppose you could say that I missed my home dearly, but aren't we supposed to? Isn't that the whole big picture to the gracious title of the word; home?


    Letting my electric, azure irises flutter shut with the silence between us, not noticing that Elijah had already turned away to carry about more pressing matters such as, unpacking per se. It best be wise to wipe the thought clean away from my cortex for the time being, fully aware that the arsenal of the topic could render me speechless for days on end, caught up only in the little world that existed inside my head. Some may say I was a dreamer, or over-analytical, but I'd like to think of it as; astute. Whatever anyone chooses to 'label' me if you will, is completely based on their own perspective and respecting opinion.


    Little did I know that my form had involuntarily tensed up to the point where the white of my interestingly, balled-up fists were flamboyant even through the ghostly pigment of my complexion. It was rather grotesque, actually, but I was in no mood to pay notice.
    Allowing the pulled-tight tendons to settle into their mutual respecting places of unannounced use, the flicker of the sun outside grasped my attention, hauling my state free of the stationary as I approach the window with a flat expression. Honestly, I found that I showed little to no emotion, but that isn't utterly true or possible now is it? I suppose, man-kind are always existing to prove the wrong and commit their beings to the impossible, regardless.
    It's only natural to assume that I masked emotion fairly well, but I felt close to nothing most of the time. Not particularly implying to sound, blasphemous for one, but it's my god's-honest belief. But what good is promising unsaid aspects to a Father who'll be in heaven, whenever you're not certain of what to believe anymore? I suppose I've truly wandered off the reservations of blaspheme.


    || You couldn't make me upset, whether you asked or not. I am the one who too is in the wrong, though I am not necessarily implicating that you are too or are not. Computer issues and low muse rendered my inactive for a pathetic amount of time, and for that I offer apologies. ||