Walking straight...harder than you think

[George Hale]

In the entire course of George's life, he had never felt so alone. Somewhere, pretty far away, his family would be having dinner, throwing bread rolls at each other, Molly pulling them apart, and general family chaos. George had never been in boarding school before Somnium, and though he wasn't homesick per se, it was difficult at times like this.

Times so unbelievably boring as these.

At least when you have other people to be bored with, you can complain to each other. Its like a communal activity. But alone, especially when you're not technically alone, ie there are about a dozen other people in the room with you, you just start itching for something to do. That's what George was doing. He was fidgeting awkwardly in the middle of the room, while the sea of life that made up Somnium flowed around him, like he was some sort of underwater rock. He gave a short sharp sigh, and gave in to the fidgeting. He wasn't sure this was a good idea, but he had little willpower to follow it up with. You know, after all the boredom.

He strode confidently toward the shelves. Or, rather, in his head, he strode confidently toward the shelves. Actually, he sort of danced toward them, twisting his body to avoid various height-challenged people who wouldn't get out of the way. You'd think, George muttered inwardly and he waved and wobbled to his destination, that being so short, they’d look up for 6ft teenagers coming their way, instead of keeping their eyes fixed on the ground..

When his did at last find his way to the board games, he felt a weird sense of achievement. He had battled through the see of oblivious dwarfs, and completed his quest to find the Place Of Interesting Things. It was like he’d completed a quest, and George felt he deserved a medal of some sort. Or his name on a plaque, or something. Resolving to ask the Headmaster about it in the Dream World if he could (George, as always, put off to tonight, and skeleton-George, what he could do now), George reached for the box of checkers. He’d always liked checkers. It was a good rainy day game, at least until your three year old brother swallows one of the pieces and is rushed to hospital.

George smiled inwardly. Good times, good times.

Distracted as he was by these happy memories of screaming babies and frazzled mothers who happen to be nurses, George overshot slightly when reaching for the box. His hand, which wasn’t quite used to the new length of his arm (George was sure it had grown an inch this last week), found the back of the box instead of the front, and before George could rectify this mistake, his arm was pulling back. His eyes widened as he realised the implications of this absent-minded action, and he tried to stop, but it was too late. The contents of the box spilled everywhere as the lid came free of the rest of the checkers box, which fell spinning to the floor, shedding checkers as it went. The small round pieces rolled happily along the carpeted floors. George could practically hear them squeaking ‘Freedom! Freedom!’

In a sort of triumphant last act of defiance, the board wriggled out of the box and hit the floor. The resulting clatter of this incident now had every face in the room turned to him. George tried in vain to fight his blush, but failing that, decided to retain some shreds of dignity. Clearing his throat and holding up the lid, he addressed the room.

“Checkers anyone?”

[Shaylee Noto]

A lone figure sauntered into the recreation room, not exactly sure what she was doing here, but would have to question that later. Usually, you would find Shaylee out sketching artwork, writing poetry, or studying for her next exam, but something had been tugging at her to ease the tension in her mind. Perhaps, she pondered, her inner self truly wished to relax and break off from the common stresses of everyday education. Just watch some game of chess or something... It was a strange feeling, not having anything to do. Studying and exercising her mind were things she did on a daily basis, but to be relaxing was a new sensation.

As if nothing but a shadow, she made her way through was seemed to be a sea of students and settled down beside a game of chess. Neither student noticed her presence, they continued to stare at the pieces and analyze their strategies best opted for success. Her light brown eyes focused solely on the king, noticing how everyone wanted that one piece, whether it meant risking it all. So, the king, is like the popular boy on campus, and the queen is their cheerleader girlfriend. But where did she fall in this game of social status? It didn't seem like her to be a bishop, or a rook, or even a knight. Maybe I'm the simplistic pawn. The first line of defense, the ones who stand tall when all else fails.

Yes, that was it. It seemed to suit her well, a first line of defense and a fighter till the end. That seemed like a well thought out description, until she noticed that all the pawns on the game had been eliminated. A sigh escaped her lips, the first line of defense had failed to stand their ground. Oh well, its just a game. Games can't rule your life. A somewhat forced smile, she picked herself up and brushed the sorrow off the sleeves of her worn jean jacket. She stood up and walked to the corner of the room, partially "people watching" and partially just trying to clear her mind. Every other student seemed to be having a good time, why wasn't she? Her friends referred to her as the optimist, why was it now that she felt so alone?

A sudden clatter of pieces, she jumped, startled. It was a boy a year younger than her, crouched on the floor clearing up the pieces of the board game he had just knocked over. His face was growing a bright red, it was a feeling she understood, around those she didn't know her face always seemed to turn a bright red. Might as well help him. Her tennis shoes squeaked with every step, it felt as though every eye in the room turned to look at her helping the clumsy boy. Squatting down, she gathered pieces in her hand and placed them in the box, no questioned asked. When the floor around them was clear, she held out her hands and replied, "I'd love to play."

[George Hale]

George breathed a deep sigh of relief as somebody bent down to help him. He hoped at least some of the room had unglued their eyes from him now. That was the problem with being tall. Even crouching he was very much noticeable, very much stared at. Not for the first time, he wished he had his mother’s height. Or at least her ability to yell at people and not feel guilty. That way, he could yell the sightseers into submission. And rule over them. Forever and ever.

It is possible, thought George, that I am going slightly mad. It must be this school, with it’s Dream World and Beings. And narrow corridors.

“I’d love to play.” said the girl who had bent down to help. George didn’t know how at all, not even by sight, meaning she must be in either Year 12 or 13. She’d scooped the errant little circles of plastic, and dropped them back in the box without his noticing. He really should remember his manners, normally he would have been a gallant gentleman, or something like that. He guessed his momentary lapse was due to underexposure to a person who would casually smack him with a spatula if he forgot to say please. In an environment like that, you learn very quickly. And George grew up in it. He still doesn’t know how his younger siblings became such tearaways under his mother’s iron rule. All he could think of was that they had more courage and higher pain thresholds than he.

”Oh, that’s good, thank you. Otherwise, I’d be you know, playing with myself, and that wouldn’t be good because I am very predictable, especially to myself, and-“

On the outside, George’s brown eyes and smiling face made him look very sweet, but on the inside he was screaming ‘Shut up George, shut up!’ All he could notice was that she was sweet, and pretty and kind and, well, everything! And that meant he couldn’t shut up, unless he distracted himself, which he did by suddenly kneeling and unflipping the black and red checked board. He set it down carefully in the space in between them, smoothing it nervously. He was biting the inside of his lip, and trying to get himself to relax. He had plenty of female friends in London, this should be no problem for him. A winning smile came over his face, and he looked up to meet his new companion’s eyes

George tilted his head to the side and his grin faltered a little, as he did when trying to work something out. She looked very unrelaxed for somebody in the Rec Room. But, it really wasn’t his place to pry, so instead he smiled again, softer this time.

”Really, thank you for helping. I’m George, by the way, George Hale.” George’s gentle Irish accent made his words somehow warmer, and infinitely more friendly. It was this quality that made people feel like he knew all their secrets, and had known them over all the years they’d been friends. ”Oh, and,” George fished two checkers out of the box and held them up, ”Black or red?”

[Shaylee Noto]

Shaylee's eyes met his, she didn't find it a burden at all to help someone out, it was better than just standing on the sidelines wishing for something to happen. Ha, that's you, the go-getter! This boy didn't seem particularly familiar, his physique and baby face, not trying to sound rude in anyway, it appeared that he was a year or two younger than him. Maybe year 11, I think I've seen him around the halls, maybe on the way to class, or something.

He reminded her of her younger brother, Jimmy, who was probably running around the house causing who knows what kind of damage. This boy seemed sweet, but a little shy, she suddenly began to miss home. Even though she had gone to this school for most of her, what she considered "mature" life, it still felt strange to not be at home curled up with her grey tabby kitten and watching Full House re-runs. Her bangs swept over her eyes, she glanced over his way and flashed a smile, "Excuse me for just one second." Grabbing a black hair-tie from her left wrist, Shaylee bent her head over and watched her thin, dark brown hair limply fall over. A few quick flicks of the wrist and twists of her hair-tie, her hair was in a simplistic pony tail with her bangs pushed gently to the side. "All better.

A cheery smile spread across her face he tried to talk with her, she could tell he was a bit tongue tied, she always thought that showed a guys sensitive side. "I am very predictable, especially to myself, and-“ she put her finger up to his lips, an innocent look in her eyes to show that she thought it was cute. "Its okay, I understand. I've been dying to play some checkers." Maybe her move would freak him out that little bit more, but all she wanted was for him to just relax, he was among friends! She watched him smooth out the board, at least he was calm enough to do that. Her eyes met his again, she couldn't help but note what a nice smile he had. "How about...red!"

[George Hale]

When her finger touched his lips, George was pretty sure his heart stopped beating. His eyes crossed trying to see it, and he swallowed imperceptibly. It was over as quickly as it had begun, and it left George reeling. He licked his lips, and pushed his nerves to the side. He needed to relax, obviously the girl liked him, he needed to calm down. An open, easy smile spread itself across his face as she picked her colour.

”Damn, I always lose when I play black. But I think my brother steals my pieces without me looking, so…” He shrugged helplessly. He was sure Alfie made fake kings as well. Little cheater…

George tossed the red checker at her gently and began setting up his own, his forehead crinkling as he concentrated on his board, swapping checkers around as he tried to remember the right way to do it. His dad had played checkers with him when he was about six, mostly to keep him occupied while his dad fended off requests for sweets, chocolate and puppies. George had loved the game, partly because his dad would play it with him and partly because he was good at it. As he grew older he tried to indoctrinate his brothers into the game, but so far the only one to play has been Leah, and he suspects that’s just so she can spend time with him and their dad. His little baby sister… He missed her.

Absent-mindedly, he asked, ”Any siblings, um…I’m not sure I know your name, so if you could help me out?”

George decided to while away the time before she answered by trying to flick one of the black ones into the air and catch it on his forehead. Snapping his thumbnail against the black plastic, he sent the checker spinning manically into the air. He watched it intently as it came down, tilting his head back. This was an old trick Connor, his eldest brother, had taught him, while he waited for George and his dad to finish their game so he could play, and one adopting by George when he took over Connor’s role of spectator while Leah played their father. He had never quite got the hang of catching it on his nose, as Connor could, but was perfectly capable of letting it rest on his forehead. His first attempt however, was doomed to failure. The piece had fallen too far back, and determined to succeed, George followed it, leaning farther and farther back until he couldn’t recover from it. His eyes widened frantically, but it was too late, and George ended up in the painful position kneeling while his back rested on the floor.

As if to add insult to injury, the checker pinged against the floor a few inches from his unruly blonde locks.

”Ow…” George whined, as his thighs burned. Holding out a hand pitifully he said, as if he did this all the time, ”I am very possibly stuck like this. Would you mind terribly…?” waving his outstretched hand slightly.

(ooc: sorry it’s a lil short…)

[Shaylee Noto]

(OOC: Dude, no biggie! George can have a crush on her But she's not going to like him...just yet But soon!)

She noticed him ease the tension in his body and relax, she forced a smile. But, he kept looking at her in a different way, like he thought she liked him or something. Oh no! He thinks I like him? Well, he is pretty sweet, but...I don't know if I like him like...that! It took a moment to shake those thoughts from the back of her head, it took a few twists of the neck to shake it out, she just said, "Oh...I um, have a crick in my neck." She casually twirled her mahogany hair around her index finger, forming small curls in her already semi-curly hair. "Well, brothers are known to do that kind of stuff!"

Shaylee thought back to her childhood, playing board games with her family. Checkers wasn't a family favorite, the usual games were Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, and the occasional game of Clue would spring up as she grew older. Though, she did remember one game of checkers with her younger brother, Jimmy. He was always prone to cheating, whether it be in a game like go fish or in a game of marco polo, you could guarantee that the little rascal would have some sort of trick up his sleeve. Jimmy started out fine, but ended up going to the bathroom almost every turn, and accused Shaylee of cheating. Eventually the game ended with tears and a shoving of the board with a few stomps on the pieces. We were a crazy family, but we were a family.

"Well, I have one little brother. His name is Jimmy, he's around twelve years old, I think." Was Jimmy twelve? Or, maybe he was eleven. But that wasn't important now, Jimmy wasn't here. "So, you say you have a brother. Do you have any other siblings?" Small talk had never really been her thing, especially with those she wasn't comfortable around. Usually her mouth would become as dry as the desert and prevent her from uttering a word. But, around George, she didn't feel awkward or shy. She felt like...herself.

Her distracted thoughts were soon stopped by the flipping of the black checker. Her eyes never left its gaze, except to glance over at George, who seemed to be trying to woo her over with tricks and a sweet smile. But, suddenly the piece was flying further back, she couldn't help but wince as George started to follow it further and further back. "Watch out! Careful!" But it was too late, he had already fallen back, his knees kneeling while his back was planted on the tile of the rec room. She chuckled slightly and said sarcastically, "Nah...I don't really feel like it." A few seconds later she took him by the hands and lifted him upward, helping him return to his comfortable kneeling position. "There, is that better?" She had a concerned look in her eye, making sure he wasn't injured in any way.

[George Hale]

George blushed slightly as his companion pulled him up and out of the painful position. ”Well,” he said running a hand through his hair with easy embarrassment, ”I can assure you that that’s never happened before.” George smiled, much more comfortable in her presence now. He had dropped a board game, babbled randomly and fallen over, and Shaylee, wasn’t it?, was still here! The girl must be tougher than he had first thought. He was painfully aware of the fact she was slightly uncomfortable in his presence, but decided to stubbornly ignore it, a technique that had never worked before, and probably wouldn’t work now. He knew that he was very readable, he’d always found lying hard, whether it was with his voice or with his face, and what did he ever have to hide anyway? But just this once he wished he was a bit better, since it seemed his checkers partner knew exactly what he thought of her.

George twisted his body and scooped the checker that he had failed to catch and situated it back on his thumb. Hearing her question, he looked up. ”I have lots of siblings,” he smiled. This was the part were most people expressed concern over his financial state or complimented his mother’s bravery. He had a feeling Shaylee would be different. ”My family is a very traditional Irish one, in fact I lived there until I was eight. I’m one of six kids, the third oldest in fact. Connor, he’s 21, is the oldest, then Molly, me, Nathan, Alfie and Leah.” He winked at her. ”Don’t worry; I don’t expect you to remember all that. So, a twelve year old, huh? They’re difficult at that age, Alfie’s the same. But it’s weird how you like ‘em so much more when you don’t see ‘em every day.”

George’s face took on a slightly distant look as he thought of his own family, hopefully missing him, but probably thinking he was up in his room or something. He recovered quickly though, he’d never been one to dwell in the past. Happy to take advantage of her distraction, he flipped the checker again, this time judging it a bit better. He tilted his head again, and the black piece landed with a satisfying smack on his forehead. He flicked his head, sending the checker flying, and caught it deftly before it hit Shaylee in the face. Now that he had managed to complete his party trick, he was a lot more confident in his athletic abilities. He’d grown up playing football and cricket, he could catch anything if he ran fast enough.

”I did it!” George crowed triumphantly. Then, realising she probably didn’t care, he coughed and said, “Now that I know I can still do something I learned five years ago, we can start to play!”

[Shaylee Noto]

Shaylee just smiled and nodded her head, "Don't worry about it. I'm prone to klutziness too." She lifted up her pant leg and showed a string of bruises. Each was for something different and equally as klutzy. One was for falling up the stairs, another for tripping over a tree root, and few others for just goofing off in her dorm room. She could tell he was still feeling awkward about the whole falling over thing, she didn't really mind. Her soft, caramel eyes just tried to show that she didn't mind whether he tripped and fell face first into a toilet; she liked him for who he was. He was in a way, different. And she liked that about him.

She had a mild bit of concern when George placed the finger back on his thumb, getting ready to pick him up off the ground if need be. "I always wished I had a lot of siblings. Jimmy's great and all, but I wish I had a younger sis." She didn't want to blabber on anymore, she was keen in learning about George's family. Wow, six kids! That sounds like that would be a lot of fun. But the one thing that struck her was when he said, "a very traditional Irish one,". "No way no way! My family is Irish too! I mean, I might be something else like German or something, but as far as I know, 100% Irish." When he winked at her, she wasn't sure what to do, whether to smile politely or wonder what his perverted male mind was conjuring up right now. But, he just talked about her brother and his brother, she let out a slight sigh of relief. "Yeah, its a lot easier to like them when they aren't bugging you 24/7."

She rested her elbows on her "Indian-Style" knees and her chin in her hand, partially analyzing strategies, partially dwelling on her family. As a preteen, it was sometimes embarrassing to invite people over to their home. Her brother was the little monkey, hanging from the lamps, sliding down the banister, streaking across the front lawn. Then dad would come over and try to wrestle all the energy out of him, which never ceased to make Shaylee laugh. After that, Jimmy would probably streak some more around the house while mom chased him around with a wooden spoon and yell at him how he was "an abomination to this family!" Maybe that's why they named me Shaylee. Shaylee means fairy, fairies are small and quiet. Seems to fit me perfectly, except for the small part. Being 5'11, people rarely ever called you small.

"Hooray for George!" She gave him small golf claps as he caught just before it smacked her in the face. She could never have that sort of hand-eye coordination. If she were him, she would have managed to smack someone in the face with the back of her hand, or maybe even have fallen over and landed face-first on the checkers board. "Alright, lets start! Mind if I go first?" It took a second for her to decide, but she moved the red piece two places from the left forward one spot. "Your move!"