coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine

[CHARLOTTE LOUISE TAYLOR]

{closed for dylan}

With a quiet sigh, the lean female clumsily tripped over the doorstep into the dorms. Her unruly curls impaired her vision as her mop of beautiful hair flopped into her face exactly the way she hated. The stranger had to let go of one of the designer bags she was carrying to brush her hair away with slender fingers. With a black hairband from her wrist she tied up the enemy so she could see where she would be living from now on, properly and without obstruction. Not bad. But not exactly home. However she hadn't been too attached to the lifeless mansion in New York. In a subconscious gesture, the girl patted the pocket of her suede, fur lined jacket for the familiar click of a pill bottle. She hadn't lost them. So the day was going well so far. Without her medication, Charlotte didn't know what she would do. It was the only constant thing in her life.

From first impressions one could easily mistake Charlie for a rich snob. She was tall, thin, beautiful, and wore expensive clothes. But if one knew a little history, they would find this was not the case. Her dad had been a successful businessman, and when you only had to provide for a daughter and yourself, life wasnt too difficult. Mr Taylor had always been trying to make up for his inability to actually be around Charlotte, by giving her things. She didnt have a lot of random belongings, everything expensive she owned from her dad served an important purpose. Like clothes or her traveling bags, or the locket with the pictures of her parents in it that she never took off. Unlike a lot of other rich kids who may be snobby, Charlotte was anything but. She was the most quiet, timid, fearful person you could ever meet. But once she adjusted, she was also extremely nice. Malignity was not in her nature in the slightest - at least that she knew of.

She closed the door behind her, glad to be in out of the cold. It had made her cheeks and nose all rosey but at the moment she was more focused on the dorm building she'd just stepped into. It was quiet, and so she was left to just stand in peace and take everything in with a masked expression and nothing showing from her eyes. She wasnt even quite sure how she felt about all this yet. Everything was happening so fast. but it was nice to have some peace and quiet and just take a breath.

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[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

IF WALLS COULD TALK I'D PRAY THAT THEY'D TELL ME WHAT TO DO

Dylan loved it when this hell hole quited down during the weekends. No one was around, they all evacuated out of here and into town. Stefano wasn't heard yelling swear words in the hallways, Colleen wasn't bragging to basket ball players, no they were elsewhere doing that. Stefano probably was out snorting a line on a bar toilet seat or something stupid like that. Haha, what a thought. Sitting on the couch in the quite den area of the dorms, he began drawing that image on paper. He etched Stefano's devil red hair spiky and messy, almost hanging over his eyes over the toilet which he decided would be stained, dull with age. He looked at it again, disappointed by how it lacked the rock bottom-ness he wanted to portray. Oh well. He flipped the page to a plain white sheet. He heard the door open and his eyes crept that way with curiousity. For a moment, he thought it was Clementine Rose with the hair. She fingered the hair from her eyes and he saw it was clearly not Clem. Much to his relief, he didn't think I cared to hear her laugh or try to strike up conversation with him. That would mean putting effort in ignoring her, making a clearly bored expression, appearing dull, all to get her to go away. It's such a waste of time.

Sure, Clem was pretty and all. But not being spotted yet by her, he had the opportunity to look at her for a minute... She was much prettier in his opinion, then Clem Rose. Without much thought, he began to outline a picture of her with his sharpened pencil. He did it quickly, determined to capture her in the moment before she went on her away, hopefully ignoring him? Hopefully? Then he thought again, he didn't recognize her. So maybe she's new? He sat up on the couch, quietly but probably attracting attention his way without meaning to. He frowned. His blue eyes saw the traveling bags. Had she seen him yet? Seen how he's been staring at her with an intense, artist gaze? Damn, but he silently shrugged that concern away. "Need help?" he heard himself ask, he was shocked. Dylan tugged his shirt sleeve lower to his palms, unconsciously but perhaps conspicuously showing off a nervous quirk. Maybe she would say no thank you. Then what? Well, he'd be a gentleman and ignore the no. Damn, what did he get himself into? With only two words too!

OOC; FIRST IC POST AND WITH SANTI! HECK YA! XD
rushed, sorry. i'm so sleepy right now.

[CHARLOTTE LOUISE TAYLOR]

Charlie hadn't seen the boy until he spoke. She'd been so distracted that his voice was like a thunder clap in her isolation inside her own mind. She jumped, nearly dropping her other bag. The girl fumbled to regain her grip and nervously glanced at him. He'd offered to help but she didn't want to be a bother. Charlie was good at taking care of herself. “Uh,” she mumbled nearly inaudibly “no I think I got it. Thanks.” Bending down to pick up her dropped bag she broke eye contact with him. This guy was a stranger and Charlotte wasn’t good with strangers. Actually she wasn’t good with pretty much anyone but that was beside the point. Eye contact wasn’t something Charlie did very often with ease. It was a struggle for her. Part of it might be the submissive part of her that didn’t want any trouble or any confrontation. The other part might be the fact that she believed eyes were windows into the soul. The idea of someone possibly seeing deeply inside her and knowing her freaked her out a little. She’d never been close to anyone so she didn’t have a lot of experience with that. New things scared her. Along with about everything else…Uh. On second thought maybe she would need some help. She could see two important looking hallways that appeared to lead to the different dorms but there was no markers that signified which one she could go down. Having forgotten about the boy in her panic, her eyes darted worriedly from hall to hall, trying to judge which one she should take. The girl awkwardly shuffled deeper into the room, feeling her face start to burn with embarrassment. So far this wasn’t going so well but c’est la vie.

[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

IF WALLS COULD TALK I'D PRAY THAT THEY'D TELL ME WHAT TO DO

She practically jumped out of her skin with a quiet jolt at his voice. He looked to her uncertainly. They allow anyone here don't they? She gave an answer and looked away. So did he, back to his art pad. Well, she was definitely no Clem Rose. That girl probably would've jumped at the chance to be assisted, served in any possible way. But anyhow, he was off the hook wasn't he? Not quite. He listened to her very slowly making her way through the room and towards the dorm halls. Very, very slowly... It came to him the day when he first arrived here, from his first foster family that took him in after juvie. He recalled the thoughts he had when he came to the halls. Which way do I go? Like all the other times in life, his question went unanswered by anyone but himself, he was lucky enough to get it right the first time when he found his dorm number. He got up, tucked the drawings under his arm and gently took her bags. "Girls go this way." he said, leading her down a hall. "What's your room number?" he asked after a short moment walking, looking to her.

[CHARLOTTE LOUISE TAYLOR]

Charlie spluttered in protest as he just took her bags. She pulled her hands away though as they bumped against his and stuff them into his pockets. It was too late, he already had them. Her blue eyes darted quickly up to his face before she looked down at the paper she removed from her pocket. "Um... 103." she said softly, studying the paper as if there was a secret code embedded into it. Then she noticed he had already turned and was leaving. She jogged a little to catch up and fell into step behind him silently. It was nice of him to help her but she felt quite awkward. She was more used to doing things for herself than people doing things for her.

[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

He felt a little awkward, sure. But kept his mind on the number, 103. It made for a short walk, they were there quickly enough. Then he'd be free from this. All the doors were closed and Dylan realized how this was the first time finding himself in the girls only area. If a teacher came around, there was a chance he'd get in trouble. But he doubted a teacher would come around the dorm areas, especially today when virtually no one else was here.

Dylan didn't feel a need to be careful around her. He felt she was already a stumbling, nervous girl who just wanted to stay out of trouble. He could definitely empathize, which is why maybe this was easy. Not taking no for an answer and leading the way. "Here we are." he opened the door, leading to an empty dorm room. Lucky her, it was empty of any signs of another roommate. He set the bags down.

[/blockquote]

[CHARLOTTE LOUISE TAYLOR]

The short walk seemed quite long to Charlotte actually. But then all of a sudden they were there. "Oh, thank you" she said, glancing around the lonely, empty room. Story of her life. But having a person share a room with her might have been worse than being alone.

Knowing this was supposed to be her re-creation of herself, her getting better, her opportunity to make things better, she took a deep breath, shaking a little as she looked up at the boy and spoke "Im Charlotte," her quiet voice wavered a little and she hid her shaking hands in her pockets again. "Im... new" she stammered, her mind wandering momentarily to the anti depressants hiding in her luggage. It was almost time to take her next dose and she was thinking maybe they could calm her down. It was pathetic that she was such a nervous wreck because she was introducing herself. Maybe she should look into anti-anxiety meds too.

[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

He shrugged at the thank you and looked around the room. Empty, clean and open. His room has become so cluttered and felt smaller each day with another person sharing it. Yet the bed was much more comfy than in juvie. And it had been so much easier to sleep there than it is here. He slept those years away, trying to make time go by faster. Hell, he slept an unhealthy amount just to be left alone. Here, it was as if the only way to get sleep was to self induce it somehow. Maybe that's why there's so many drug addicts here...

He was just about to leave, when she held out a slender hand. He shook it, albeit reluctantly then crossed his arms. "Dylan." She was new. Well... duh. But what could he say about that? Lucky you? Welcome? "Yeah? You'll get used to things around here quickly." he said, offering some sort of support he could offer. If he could get used to things here, she certainly could. Though judging by her very uncomfortable appearance, it could take awhile. Yet Dylan was happy to meet someone that wasn't so in your face and begged for him to make a sarcastic remark that only promised to start an argument. Which sure, helped pass the time, but didn't do shit for his already pissed reputation around here. "Where are you from?" he asked, disappointed in the bored tone of his voice.

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[CHARLOTTE LOUISE TAYLOR]

In case this Dylan kid didn't know, this was the most conversation Charlie had had in a while. Kids her own age usually didnt bother getting to know her. The ones she had known from school promised to keep in touch but she wasnt crossing her fingers. So it was a little strenuous on her mental state but she kept telling herself this was good for her. It was what she was there for. She kept making herself look at him even if it was just for a few seconds. Inside the girl felt like she might explode but she kept taking silent, deep breaths, trying to avoid just shutting down completely. Those anti anxiety meds were looking better every second. She'd never had a panic attack because she hid from everything, but the way her breathing was going right now she was getting a little concerned.

At first she thought he might just leave, then he asked where she was from. Charlotte blinked a couple times before rubbing her eyes with an apologetic look. Only part of her nervousness could be blamed on exhaustion. "Uh.. New York. Right outside New York City." she murmered, "you?" she swallowed hard, chewing on her lip. Finally the internal clock went off and out of habit, her hand reached into the pocket of her jacket, retrieved the anti depressants and popped one in her mouth. It was a momentary break in the tension - this ritual was somewhat calming for her. She took a swig of the water bottle from one of her bags and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. This ritual was the only thing that stayed the same throughout her life and she relied on its consistency to keep her sane. Too much change really made a mess of her mind.

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[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

Dylan didn't know what to think of her. I mean, for the first moment he thought she was Clem Rose. Without thought, he assumed she'd have a similar personality. This was the exact opposite. She was making him look completely average. This, normally, would make him smug and glad. He'd begin his superior act and almost feel superior. But it didn't make him feel anything at all. Just made him realize that helena was truly a place for 'troubled' youth. He was one of them.

New York City. He was a little impressed. "Wisconsin." he said, referring to before juvie became his home. Then he watched her take a pill in a very automatic, casual manner. He frowned inwardly. Seriously? he thought to himself. This place is for druggies, for Stefano types. He didn't belong here. Damn. She was... pretty too. Well, hold up. Maybe it's just a real, legit prescription? He was being an ass for assuming things so quickly. Yeah right. She was just another one going down the drain and he can't do a thing about it. He looked around the room again. What was he to say now? Be polite, he forced himself to say "If you want a tour, or whatever. Any help, just let me know." Maybe I could introduce you to Stefano, he knows all the dealers and all the right people. he thought, now feelign superior and smug.

[/blockquote]

[CHARLOTTE LOUISE TAYLOR]

"Oh. Wisconsin is nice..." It was all Charlie could think to say but she tried to be sincere. She'd never actually BEEN to Wisconsin but she knew they both got a lot of snow in the winter so she was assuming it was somewhat similar to parts of New York. Maybe the rural parts anyways... Wisconsin made her think of cows and cheese...

Charlotte caught him looking at her strangely and it took a moment to register what he was probably thinking. Her eyes widened a little and she blushed, shaking her head. "Anti-depressants" she said sheepishly, spinning the bottle around so he could see her name and information clearly printed on the front of the bottle, along with the name of the medication. If she knew him better she might inform him that her life was a series of unpredictable events and it was all quite stressful. Her medication not only kept her sane chemically, it kept her sane with its reliability. She might also tell him about her lame suicide attempt with her medication and how she never wanetd to go through that again. But she couldnt tell him that. She barely knew him and she doubt he would really care about all that. Plus just dumping her history on him might not help this fragile relationship that was beginning to form with every word she made herself say to him. Charlie knew better than to do REAL drugs. She was messed up enough as it was, and she was staying as far away as possible from illegal substances. Little did she know a lot of kids were AT Helenas in the first place for the very things she was trying to avoid. But she'd find out all in due time.

Yet he acted normal, even though she was judging by his expression she knew what he was thinking. Did she really look like that kind of person? Or were there really that many kinds of kids here? But he was still being nice so he hadn't been scared away yet. "Oh okay... that might be... helpful." she cleared her throat awkwardly, tucking her bottle safely back into her jacket pocket. "Thanks" she added, realizing she wanted at least one person to like her. If she had just one friend, maybe she'd survive this place.

[/blockquote]

[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

Wisconsin, yeah it was nice for what it was. Though he didn't think he'd go back given the chance. No, given the chance he'd do exactly what he thought about doing that drunk night when he sort of considered jumping off the bridge. If he couldn't die, he'd get in a car and drive out of here. He'd drive until he was thoroughly exhausted and broke. Then wherever he could be, he'd stay. Maybe New York City could be where he goes? It was a thought. Though, he would've been more content where it wasn't so cold. Maybe he could put these thoughts on a canvass, see what happens...

Dylan got lost in his thoughts quite a bit. It was the sound of pills that tore him away from it. She showed it off, though not as proudly as other students would. Charlotte looked almost shy about it. He recognized the name of it, it was the stuff his mother would take... or was supposed to take. But he did see the name. Charlotte Taylor. See, he got himself worked up for nothing. Still, he wasn't convinced by it and now he had to give a tour around the school. Like he was so charismatic to entertain her!

Stuck a hand into his pocket and held the drawing pad in the other as she put the pills away. Then he began walking, leading her to the den room outside the halls where they first met. "Well, this is the den." It was a small room, couch, tv with a set timer, a picture frame with a whale that read 'Persistence'... what does a whale have to do with persistence? He should parodize that, just for his own amusement. "Back outside..." he went out to through the door from where she came in. "Here's the parking lot... Over there are the teacher's houses. We're not allowed over there." He looked over beside the houses. "That's the church. And at that corner are the courtyards, alot of people eat there."

[CHARLOTTE LOUISE TAYLOR]

Well if she felt awkward before, it was ten times worse now. She should have just waited until she was by herself but noo... Sighing, she scratched the top of her head, disturbing her unruly curls again. With frustration, she tugged the band back out of her hair and it exploded into a beautiful cascade of silky curls once again. Charlotte would have to deal. She had for the past seventeen years, and she secretly loved her hair, but on days like this it could be frustrating.

Charlie followed him silently as he led her back to the hall and outside. "They have... a church?" she asked in quiet surprise, considering this. maybe thats what she needed. She hadnt ever really gone to church before but maybe she should start. It couldnt hurt at least. She'd have to think it over.

The campus or whatever you would call the place, was quite beautiful now that Charlotte stood still, taking it all in. It looked quite nice, like anyone could enjoy their time here. It could be like a vacation... or boarding school... or whatever one's fragile mind wanted to make it. It didnt seem too bad so far, and she'd even sort of, maybe, possibly made a friend. Okay, maybe just an acquaintance but it was a big step for her.

[DYLAN MARSHALL TORRES]

She was messing with her hair and while she did that, he felt a little... out of place. He took a lighter and cigarette, lit it and took in a drag. He didn't care if she didn't like it though he didn't feel completely comfortable lighting up. But he felt the need for a smooth smoke, maybe it'll relax him alittle. Putting the pack and lighter away, he looked over to the church. "Yeah. It's nice ...and small." he said, thinking of it's few rows of seating. "Want to go take a look?" he asked. They started going over there, crossing the parking lot. Once they reached the end of it, he tossed away his cigarette.

They made it to the small gardens that surrounded it and the old stone walk way that lead to the heavy wooden doors. "There's a mass every morning before school." he said. He really liked this church and tried his best to always make it everyday, though he kept that to himself. He opened the door for her.

[/blockquote]

[CHARLOTTE LOUISE TAYLOR]

Cigarette smoke bothered Charlie and agitated her throat. She managed to suppress her cough and when they started walking out in the open it wasn't nearly so bad. She felt a little tiny bit of victory in managing to not make any audible signs of discomfort from the smoke and it gave her a minute boost of confidence as she walked beside but ever so slightly behind her new acquaintance.

This idea of church interested her greatly all of a sudden. The fact that there was a service every morning seemed like it would be a nice way to start off a day. Charlotte really knew nothing about religion other than what she had heard from other people. She knew there were all kinds of different beliefs and knew most of them revolved around a central figure. She wasn't sure if she believed in God but at this point she was ready to try anything and she was curious now. "What are they like? the masses..." she clarified as they stepped inside the small church building. It definitely seemed very welcoming to her. She hoped he might know, at least a little but it occurred to her, too late, that he might not even ever come here.

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