(2018-06-02) The Same Old Bump and Grind
The Same Old Bump and Grind
Summary: Besa and Whitley finally meet since Besa's unwrapping. It goes well?
Date: 2018-06-02
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank. You have to use full URLs, like http://coralsprings.wikidot.com/logtitle)
NPCs: Players go below, other chars that deserve mention can be listed here
Scene Runner: Who ran this scene, NA if no-one or mutual

So no more finals for the week. Great news for students like Whitley who've been stressing over passing them. But there is more. There is always more. And the weekend rarely stops his studying grind. He only leaves his dorm when he remembers that's he left one of his textbooks in his class. Dressed for bed in shorts and a tee, he's headed downstairs at the moment with a pencil in his mouth.

<FS3> Besa rolls Past Lives: Good Success.

Besa's not sure where the twins went. While he's not attached at the hip to them, he ha a certain sense of being lost when he doesn't know where they are. Cocoa had finally fallen asleep so he too left his room and bed to wander down tow wards the kitchen. He's shorter, as short as he was when he first got to the school 2 years ago, an he definitely looks much healthier than when Whitley last say him. No tank, no tubes. Just small Besa with a candle padding carefully towards the kitchen. His sleepy pants and tee shirt are clearly old hand me downs from Sky, goth looking, and slightly too big for him. Hearing someone else depending the stairs, he turns and looks up, at first not recognizing him. But when Whit gets closer, his eyes narrow. It's hard to not try to place the white haired boy right away, is this the teen Best had written himself about? "…Hello." His accent is a little thicker, and he seems careful on. How he's pronouncing the word, like he's having to think on it before saying it.

Whitley is in a rush! He -almost- misses Besa entirely and would have if not for the thickly accented greeting. "Besa!" He smiles broadly. "You're back." Duh. "How are you feeling?"

Besa thinks this is Whitley, "I am…well." His hand, the one not holding the candle reaches up and taps his chest, "I am whole." He smiles softly, deciding that even if this sin't Whitley, it mis be someone that he's friends with to ask. "Are you well?" His head tilts, been dead did not hurt that perfect hair at all.

There's a pause as Whitley takes a second to study Besa. He notices a lack of recognition maybe. "I'm okay. A little stressed, but that's nothing compared to what you've been though. Is your heart okay now? No more pain?" His smile falters slightly but doesn't fade entirely. "You um…you don't remember me, do you?"

There's a confidence to Best that wasn't there before. Perhaps it's not being in pain? Either way he steps closer to Whitley, looking up at the Ares. "My heart is whole. I will run and climb and fight now." He may still be getting a grip on English. "I am in no pain." His head tilts, eyes catching the twitch in the smile, "You feel familiar. We are friends, yes?" He wets his lips and the asks a second, "You are Whitley, the one I hurt, yes?"

"Hopefully there won't be a lot of fighting in your future," Whitley grins a little. "That's great to hear, Besa. I…that's just amazing." Besa has been missing a piece of his heart for as long as Whitley has known him…this is, like, monumental. "Yeah, that's me." He shrugs sheepishly. "Is that really how you remember me? The hurt…it's okay. I like to think we're friends, yeah."

In typical Besa fashion, "I will be fighting to save the demon born." What? He looks young, as he looks up at Whitley, but his gaze seems older. "I….I remember your eyes….I wrote myself about the hurt and trust." He left himself notes this time! "I am glad we are friends. To date you, to do the forbidden….I hope we re still friends." And then he smiles, very warmly up at him. "Are you stressed for the upcoming trials? I am going to make tea, would you like some?"

"Uh, who? Demon born…I thought you already dealt with that," Whitley shifts his striking gaze to the kitchen door. "Sure…I just need to get something from my classes." He looks back at Besa though. "We're actually friends, though, right? I sometimes don't know where we stand.

Besa's shoulder lifts, "Apparently there is a student who is demon born who I have been trying to save? I did not leave myself too many details, unfortunalty." He starts to turn to head to the kitchen, but then looks back and laughs softly. It's not a mean laugh, more amused, "I think you have a better knowing of where we stand than I do, Whitley. I know that I like your eyes and that I hurt you more than you feel you can trust me. That is…mostly all I know." But that warm smile stays, "I will start the water fire while you go."

"Oh. You mean Ashton, right? Probably should've left a name." Whitley shrugs. "Good luck with that. Let me know if you need anything." He watches Besa turn around, look back, and laugh. There's a slight frown at that and the non-answer. "Okay…bye. I mean, see you later."

"Yes, the Ashton." Besa did, but there's a lot of names in that notebook to remember, onto of English and sign language! Dak eyes flicker back again to look at Whit, but then he nods. He boils enough water for two, and pulls the mugs out as he waits. Although there's a mall part of him that things Whit may just go back to his room.

Besa's in the kitchen with water heating for two cups of tea. Well, he thinks Whit drinks tea? He's not certain. But the water is going and the Guardian is padding around nosing into cabinets. Not that he really sees anything of interest. He's not a fan of the junk food. A soft from start to tug at his mouth as he waits, wondering of Whit was just being kind saying he wanted tea. Maybe it was presumptuous of Besa to ask? He doesn't understand all the notes he left himself. Maybe Whit won't come after retrieving his book?

It hasn't been all that long, all Whitley really had to do was collect the book and put it in his dorm room. Afterwards, he comes to the kitchen. Five minutes tops. He's still dressed for bed and a little worn out from all his studying, but he slides into one of the stools near the kitchen island. "So. How's it been coming back? You can't have been around for long."

Besa smiles when the Ares shows up, pleased. He did mean it when he said he liked the boys eyes. They remind him of something. "I have been back for….5 days." He holds up his hand with 5 fingers held out. "It is…strange. My priests are not very …priestly." He moves to the cabinet to get out his tea, the licorice smelling one that Rain got for him. "What tea do you prefer?" He'll then continue, "I have people that say I am family…I broke vows…it is a lot." But then he looks over his shoulder and smiles at Whitley, "But I do like that Alraxmargoth'ha is dead."

"If it's the priest I'm thinking about, they wouldn't be," Whitley shrugs, not picky. "I'll have whatever you're having." As for family, he tilts his head, "You mean the twins, right? Yeah, they have always considered you family." At least for as long as Whitley has known any of them. "Do you not remember them?" It'd strike Whitley as odd that Besa recalls him but not them. Dead big bad is good, and he nods. "So do I."

Besa's eyes widen as he shakes his head, "It is all very….disorganized." That's an odd observation. Sets sets up both cups before moving to the the water starts to whistle. "Yes, the …twins." He could have sworn there were more than 2, but that's not a Whitley conversation to have, he's thinking. "I remember…bits. It is like trying to recall a dream. I know how I feel when I am with them, but I …do not have details?" He remembers Whit's eyes, not really much more. "I remember some of Schuyler's language." The hot mugs are brought over and he sets one down in front of the 'older' boy. Besa himself takes a seat next to Whit, "I do not like that his children are angry, but it is better than Alraxmargoth'ha."

"It'll come back," Whitley says encouragingly. "In the last couple of times, you usually pick up on things pretty quickly. I don't know if it's different now seeing as the rituals aren't the same, but…" He shrugs. "I think you can expect more memories soon. What do you recall of me?" He looks over. "ASL? Well…as much as I'm not fond of him, I don't doubt he'd reteach you if you asked."

Besa settles in his seat, letting his thin fingers wrap around the warm mug, "I do not know. I asked about the ritual, but they said …" His nose wrinkles, apparently not liking what they said, "I should wait and focus on remembering…" The mug is pulled closer, so the aroma of the seeping tea can reach him. His head turns, hair swaying as eh looks at Whitley, "I…As I said, your eyes. I think I matched something to them?" His own dark eyes scan Whit's features, maybe remembering other things, "I know what I wrote to myself, but it does not all….make sense." Look at that, Besa's even confusing to himself! "I feel like there should be trees around you…" He frowns in thought but it disappears, "I know. He seemed pleased I remembered some of it."

"My eyes?" Whitley's lips twist as he considers. "That's it?" He doesn't sound disappointed, just…surprised? "I…I don't know why you would imagine me around trees…maybe camping? And with the matching stuff, you're probably remembering the charity ball we attended with Rain." He shrugs. It was a good night save the death bowl fiasco.
<FS3> Besa rolls Past Lives: Failure.

Besa chuckles softly, "I am sorry it is not more. As you said, it will come back?" He starts to say something else, but stops, nope. Not a memory. Instead he turns back to his mug, "Perhaps. Did we like to go camping?" He knows they dated, but the note didn't give any time reference. "We went to a ball?" That has him smiling, "I like Balls. Everyone is speaking of this Prom Ball. Will you be going to it?"

Whitley stays silent for a moment, not sure if he actually -wants- the memories to come back…that may not be good for either of them. "Well, we only went once, and you said you had fun…and I definitely had a nice time too." He nods slightly. "Yeah, it was a while ago, though, and things were way different back then." He shakes his head. "Eh…probably not." He would say that he doesn't have a date, but that's a lame excuse. "Not really feeling it if I'm being honest."

Besa lets Whit go silent, although he does study him. Finally he'll ask, "Do I make you uncomfortable?" Maybe the notebook wasn't clear enough, maybe Besa should stay away from Whitley? Not just 'be careful'. He finally lifts the mug, blowing on the warm liquid, "I may go. I like dancing. It may bring back memories."

"You should go. It'll probably be a lot of fun," It just isn't for Whitley. Plus, he is not a great dancer. He blinks when asked the question, clearly not expecting it. "Uh…not uncomfortable, no." There's a soft sigh. "There are just some things I wanted to ask you…things that I still can't figure out. It's too late now." Since his brain is scrambled. "And likely unimportant, anyway."

Besa raises an eyebrow, "Why is it too late? I am here." He sips the tea and then wrinkles his nose, he forgot the honey! Setting the mug down he moves to get the inly sweetener he seems to like, "If it is on your mind, it is not unimportant." But Besa isn't going to press. The honey is offered over if ht would like to use it. "I will have to ask Rain for the proper attire. She bought me some clothing, but I do not know that any of it is Ball attire."

"Yeah, but you don't remember much, you know?" Whitley starts. "I can't imagine you'd know what to say, and I'm pretty sure you have more important things to remember." Not pressing is good, Whitley accepts the honey and will use it with his tea. "You're the same size as you were at the last dance you went to, so you could just wear the same thing."

"Perhaps just saying it is what is important?" But then Besa shrugs, he can't argue things h doesn't know. But he does smirk slightly as he stirs the Honey, "Oh yes. Knowing how I organized my clothing is much more important." He's annoyed with himself about that. How is that important to know? Remembering teachers and friends would be so much more helpful! "I am?" He looks down at his body, assessing, "Do I still have the outfit?"He seems to deflate slightly as soemthought enters his mind, "I do get taller, yes?"

"Hey, don't worry about it. If you happen to recall more, then…maybe," There's a shrug. "Depends on the clothes." While nods a little. "Yeah, you sorta revert back to a certain size and age every time you die. I don't know if you still have the outfit…you borrowed it from Schuyler, I think? Or Conner when he was younger." Probably Sky, though. "You were a little taller, I think. A few inches. You hadn't aged much then since your last death, though."
<FS3> Besa rolls Pst Lives: Good Success.

Besa smiles, shaking his head, "If you d not speak to me, you should find someone to speak to. You will feel better, I should think." He looks down again at the clearly from Sky tee shirt, "I seem to have many clothes from Schuyler…." Conner, he looks up, unsure who that is until the connection is made in his hand, "Yes…the other brother." He is the tea, happy with the honey now, "I….I remember being in Hell…I know I was taller, but I have nothing to compare that to." He remembers parts of Hell, but not Coral Springs?!?

"Maybe," Whitley says indifferently. It isn't totally surprising that Besa remembers more of Hell than Coral Springs…that kind of high level trauma tends to manifest in highly detailed memories. "Yeah, you borrowed a lot of his clothes when he was around," He smiles fondly. "The gothic look seemed kinda strange on you." And still do. "You were there for longer…time was weird there if I recall correctly."

"Goth? That is the black and funeral clothing, yes?" Besa tries and fails to not look displease, "I think I prefer not goth." He sigh, sipping more tea and not looking at Whitley, "…Yes. It was…many lives." He clears his throat, not wanting to remember anything else from there. "I will ask Rain and Sky about this ball outfit I wore….Do Balls still play the waltz?" Oh, he's going to be in for a surprise.

"That's a weird and kinda grim way to describe it but yeah," Whitley smirks slightly. "I prefer you not wearing them too." He brings his tea to his lips too, masking the frown that forms when Besa avoids his gaze. "Eh, not really. I mean, there will probably be slow dances, but depending on how tasteful the teens here are, there might be a lot of 'bumping and grinding' and other types of music."

Besa shrugs, it may be grim, but it's what it reminds him of. He notes the preference, but isn't sure how to respond, so doesn't. But he does need to ask, "Bump and grind?" What kind of dance is that? Maybe this dance won't help his memory…

"Ask Rain. Or, like, anyone else besides me," A comfortable blush spreads across Whitley's fair face, and he stands. "I should get back to studying. If you need any help with anything - anything at all - you know where to find me. Um…don't be a stranger. Goodnight." And he's walking off with a small smile on his face.

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