Mr. Wilson's Home for Boys IC Thread (accepting)

[timv999]

Nick smikred at Eddie as they were about to get ready to play. Nick knew he was better than Eddie but if he didn't take him seriously he would lose and he would never hear the end of it. Nick got in his defensive stance as they started the game. Then all of a sudden Nick caught something in the corner of his eye. He turned and looked to see a little kid crying standing under one of the trees. Nicks heart instantly broke. Thus Kid looked very young and there was no reason why he should be here. Nick followed Eddie over to the little boy. He listened to what Eddie said, Nick just kneeled down next to Eddie and smiled at the little boy waiting for him to answer.

@Tart
@C O N S U M E D☯R A G E

 

[Rowlet]

"Just...hold on. I'll get you back upstairs."

God, his head hurt. It was difficult forming coherent thoughts. His instincts screamed to rest, urging him to fall under the spell of unconsciousness. However, if Mr. Wilson found him unconscious in the bathroom, it would earn another beating. Dietrich registered the voice in his foggy mind. Eric. What was Eric doing here? He should of been upstairs, safe. He warned the newcomer about Mr. Wilson's violent behavior. Eric should of listened. A flicker of concern coursed through his half-lidded green eyes. If Mr. Wilson discovered him, it wouldn't be pretty. "Get out of here," Dietrich rasped. He pointed at the door. "You're not safe in here," he warned. A pained groan escaped his lips, courtesy of his raised arm. He lowered his hand, allowing it to fall against his side with a thump. Dietrich remained kneeling on the floor, slumped against the bath tub. Draining the water was the least of his worries. Moving would be a challenge. How could he stand when he could barely breath? This wasn't the first time Mr. Wilson beaten him until he couldn't move. Regrettably, it wouldn't be the last.

"I thought I told you to drain the wa---"

Dietrich watched Mr. Wilson drag Eric out of the bathroom. He listened to the familiar sounds of skin on skin contact, filling his ears with the art of violence. Dietrich sat there helplessly, waiting for Mr. Wilson to finish his punishment. He closed his eyes, cursing his weakened state.

"Drain the tub now or I'll drown your ugly face," Mr. Wilson snarled, poking his head in the bathroom. He stepped back and walked away, leaving Dietrich alone.

A shiver surged down his spine. Drowning was his worse fear. He avoided large quantities of water, like lakes or oceans. Due to his phobia, he couldn't swim. After Mr. Wilson vanished, Dietrich crawled toward the drain. Dragging his body across the bath tub was painful and difficult, but he managed. He dipped his hand in the water and fumbled around, unplugging the drain. He watched as the water receded. A few minutes later, the bath tub was empty. Blood dripped from the cuts on his hands. Mr. Wilson destroyed all the bandages around his hands, leaving his palms raw. Draining the tub was his first task. Cleaning up the water on the floor, including the blood, was his second. For a brief moment, Dietrich wondered about Eric. Is he alright? How bad were his injuries? He gripped the bath tub, shifted weight on his knees, and forced himself to stand. Dietrich staggered heavily and crashed into a nearby sink. The edge of the sink slammed against his side, right above a bruise. He hissed in response, clutching the sink tightly. His legs felt wobbly and weak. On a bright side, none of the bones in his legs were broken. However, Dietrich wasn't certain about the rest of his body. His ribs might be cracked, but he wasn't sure. He didn't have time to assess the full extent of his wounds. Dietrich focused on his breathing, struggling to overcome a violent burst of vertigo. If it weren't for the sink, he may of collapsed. He rested his forehead against a mirror above the sink, breathing deeply. His head pounded painfully, eliciting a groan. Standing was a miracle. Would he be able to walk? Dietrich stretched across the sink, plucked a towel from a nearby rack, and wiped the mirror from a streak of blood. He lowered himself to the floor and started mopping it, cleaning the tiles from water and blood. It was a slow agonizing process, especially in his condition. Somehow, against all odds, he remained conscious. Perhaps it was sheer will? Strong determination? Tantalizing fear? Regardless, it enabled him to clean his mess. Once he finished, Dietrich discarded the soiled towel in a hamper. He gripped the sink and forced himself in a standing position. His body screamed in protest, yearning for rest. Frankly, Dietrich doubted he could walk properly. Yet, he didn't have a choice.

He stumbled out of the bathroom, entering the hall. He noticed Eric's crumpled form on the floor. A grimace plastered on his face. The boy was out cold. Did he have enough energy to drag the boy upstairs? No. Would he leave him behind? Hell no. Dietrich leaned against the wall and inched closer toward Eric. He sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain on his back. He slanted on his right side and rolled Eric on his back. He shook the boy, hoping his head injury wasn't too serious. Familiar black dots speckled his vision. The last pinch of strength was spent walking out of the bathroom. Dietrich cursed inwardly. "Vake up," he muttered. His eyes drooped heavily. Dietrich retracted his hands and leaned back, resting his battered form on the wall. He closed his eyes and succumbed to darkness, passing out from exertion.

@Tart

 

[tart.]

Eric
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He didn't feel anything, couldn't hear anything. It was like everything was numb, except for the aching pain in his head, Pulsating quickly, throbbing and aching. Eric felt detached and lost almost, as if everything that happened to his body then, he wouldn't be able to fight against. Was he dead? No. But he did know that he was hit in the head quite harshly. Somewhere in the dark abyss that he'd fallen into, a distant voice had rang out quietly, echoed around his head but failing to register. It sounded male, and it sounded raspy almost, tired. It was as if the words just wouldn't settle into the surface for him to register, as if it were on the tip of his tongue but the words just wouldn't come. And then, it just hit him in a rush of realization and consciousness.

"Vake up,"

Dietrich. The voice was easy to pick out, with that familiar German accent that toyed with his pronunciation of w's. Eric didn't groan when he came to again, but winced when light spilled through his eyelids. He could feel someone's presence nearby, the heat radiating off of their body and heavy breathing. Very slowly, Eric opened his eyes, wincing as he did, and forced to turn his head toward the body crumpled on the floor beside him, but slightly propped up against the wall. "Dietrich?" Sympathy, worry, and guilt nearly knocked him out again as he looked at the male's face. He should have just stayed put, should have listened to him. But would he just stay upstairs helplessly and safely while Dietrich got the snot beaten out of him? No. Then, his oh so lovely audio hallucinations kicked in, deciding that now it was a good time to taunt him. Oh, the joy of having patronizing voices follow him everywhere.

"Stupid boy, you should have stayed put."

"You just cause trouble, you pest.'

"Look what you did, idiot."

"You're such a failure. Why do you even try?"

Eric tried his best to block them out and focus on Dietrich and his situation. Obviously, he needed to get both of them upstairs before Mr. Wilson came back and beat them again. Would it be hard and tedious? Most definitely, but Eric was willing to try. He didn't want to stay here another minute. Slowly, like a baby learning to walk, Eric stood up and used the wall as leverage. He took a step, then another, then crashed into the other wall on the opposite side and grunted. He got up again and took for steps, surprisingly holding himself up well. He didn't know how he was doing this, adrenaline or will, he wasn't sure. Eric kneeled down and put his arms under Dietrich's body, lifting him slowly as he carried him bridal style. Sure, he'd probably be embarrassed right now if he were conscious, but he wasn't awake to tell him to stop, and it was easier to carry him like this. Eric turned to walk down the hallway slowly, though Dietrich was surprisingly light, and eventually reached the stairs after what felt like years. His whole body seemed to protest every movement, but never once stopped to focus on the pain. Eric slowly began to climb the steps, each step nice and cautious so he wouldn't fall down with Dietrich in his arms.

After what seemed like hours, he reached the landing safely, but out of breath. He needed to set Dietrich down somewhere, and he chose a bed obviously. Eric walked into the bedroom and placed him into one of the empty beds, propping his head up with a pillow and pulling a blanket over his body. Out of breath and sore, Eric sat down with his back against the bed along Eric's side, and closed his eyes to try and catch some Z's before Dietrich awoke.

@Ĺค∂rєภgเℓσภ
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[T E R R O R]

Eddie
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Eddie caught the ball and smirked at Nick, dribbled it and then held it under his arm. "Alright, but promise not to shove it in my face too much if you win." He chuckled and moved to the middle of the court, dribbling as he walked and watched Nick carefully. He knew how good Nick was at practically any sport, especially basketball, so he needed to play cautiously so that it might push him towards victory; Besides, it was getting late and this needed to be a quick match. Eddie rushed forward, dribbling fiercely as he did, and danced around on the tips of his shoes to keep the ball from Nick. He had a smirk plastered on his face as he did, and continued to dribble around Nick. He was just about to make an attempt to shooting the ball when a blur seemed to cross the court, and to a tree. Eddie stopped, mid-lifting his arm, and looked around confused. "What in the--?" He murmured, and looked at Nick with a perplexed expression. He was about to ask what the blur was, but soon found his answer after looking at the tree. A toddler was sitting at the base of a medium sized tree, tears streaking his poor baby face. Eddie looked at Nick again, confused and worried about the little boy. "Uh, one sec." He muttered before making his way towards the tree. Now, Eddie wasn't the very best with kids, but he tried to approach the boy in a soothing manner, and smiled even. "Hey, little guy. You alright?" He wasn't sure if the boy talked yet, but he still chatted with him in a calming tone. "What's your name?" Eddie questioned, slowly moving himself into a sitting position besides the toddler.

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Nick smikred at Eddie as they were about to get ready to play. Nick knew he was better than Eddie but if he didn't take him seriously he would lose and he would never hear the end of it. Nick got in his defensive stance as they started the game. Then all of a sudden Nick caught something in the corner of his eye. He turned and looked to see a little kid crying standing under one of the trees. Nicks heart instantly broke. Thus Kid looked very young and there was no reason why he should be here. Nick followed Eddie over to the little boy. He listened to what Eddie said, Nick just kneeled down next to Eddie and smiled at the little boy waiting for him to answer.

@Tart
@C O N S U M E D☯R A G E

Westly
Teddy​

Teddy shook, he didn't want to go back inside the house... He didn't know whether Dietrich was dead or not and if he was he didn't want to see him again. West was rolled up into a ball with his monkey covering his face when Eric came over to him. He didn't say anything at first, but then a soft voice spoke. "Teddy...oor Westeh." he told him and sat up a little bit to look at Eric. When he saw another guy come up, he rubbed his eyes a bit and looked over to him before looking down at his stuffed animal. "Home...?" he asked looking down at the ground and up at them two. "Momma, dadda.....Home.." he said to them. He then thought about what he just saw...maybe they wanted to know why he ran. "Dead porsin..." he told them before pointing to the house. He wasn't sure of it, but he only saw a glimpse of what happened in there and it wasn't pretty. He didn't want people dying around him, all he really wanted to do was play with someone or have fun but it seems like he was asking for too much. Maybe these guys would play with him, they seemed nice and comforting to a point where Westly actually didn't hide away from them like he did to Xavier and Tren when he first out here. He looked at the orange and black stripped round thing on the ground, "Ball.." he said and pulled it into his little lap before tapping on it like a drum of some sort.​

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[Rowlet]

Dietrich remained unconscious. Blood dripped from his cuts, staining the hardwood floor. His dark blonde hair was drenched, plastering against his bruised face. Puffs of breath escaped his lips, labored and strained. When Eric lifted him up and carried him bridal style, his head lolled to the side, resting against Eric's shoulder. If he were conscious, Dietrich might of cried out in pain. The full extent of his injuries remained a mystery. After a slow agonizing journey up the stairs, Eric deposited Dietrich on a vacant bed. He laid on the worn mattress, out cold. Despite his rigid stature, his chest rose and fell, signaling he was alive.

"Ich liebe dich, mein Sonnenschein."

A familiar voice washed over him. Mother. Her warm smile brightened his dark abyss. Dietrich watched his mother from afar, recalling insignificant details. He reached out, extending his hand forward. However, his mother's form lit up and burned, fading out of existence. The spark of fire ignited a dark fear he kept hidden. Dietrich stumbled back, retracting his hand. Flashes of memories circulated around him, reminding him of that dreadful night. Fear coursed through him, paralyzing him completely. He couldn't move. He couldn't breath. Remembering the fire terrified him on a level drowning couldn't hope to achieve.

"It's all your fault. You should of died. You killed all of them, including your brother!" a voice sneered. A shrill laugh resonated off the walls, echoing in the abyss.

A mixture of self-loathing and guilt sliced through him, knocking the wind out of him. Dietrich grabbed his head and staggered, whimpering in pain.

"All your fault! All your fault! All your fault!" the voice taunted.

He gritted his teeth and fell to his knees. "Stop it!" Dietrich demanded.

A little boy, no older than nine, materialized in front of Dietrich. A sickeningly sweet smile plastered on his seemingly innocent face. "Why should I? I'm your twin brother, Dee," he announced. He tilted his head and giggled.

His heart clenched painfully. "You're not Dmitri," Dietrich spat.

He shrugged. "Keep telling that to yourself, little brother!" He vanished out of sight, cackling.

A groan escaped his lips. God, his head hurt. Scratch that, everywhere hurt. Dietrich opened his eyes slowly. He surveyed his surroundings, recognizing the room. A flicker of confusion reflected through his green eyes. How did he get here? The last thing he remembered was collapsing in the hall, next to Eric. He gripped the headboard for support and forced himself to sit up. Dietrich gritted his teeth, hissing in pain. He massaged his forehead, fighting off a wave of nausea.

"Eric?" Is the boy downstairs? Did someone leave him behind? He spotted a familiar head of platinum blonde hair on the other side of the bed. Relief coursed through him. However, the fleeting emotion vanished. Dietrich grasped the headboard and crawled across the bed, stopping on Eric's side. He leaned forward and draped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "How long vas I out?" He leaned against the headboard for support, not trusting himself to topple over the bed. Most of, if not all his strength eluded him, leaving him weakened and vulnerable.

@Tart

Spoiler Alert: Dietrich's Ultimate Fear

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[andrew21234]

Once Eric entered the room and started to tend to the German boy Xavier started looking for Teddy. He quickly searched the first floor looking in the kitchen, dinging room, living room and hallway before considering if the little boy had gone back up stairs. He then noticed a slight draft blowing through the house. Turning around he saw that the front door had been left open to his horror. He was worried that the little boy would by now be somewhere in the woods that surrounded the house lost. Rushing outside he looked around frantically until he saw Eddie with a small child with him.
Rushing over Xavier kneeled down by the small boy and said, "Teddy you scared me, you can't run away like that. Next time just don't look okay?"

@C O N S U M E D☯R A G E

 

[tart.]

Eddie
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He smiled at the child, and nodded. "Teddy, hm? I'm Eddie. Our names kind of rhyme." He chuckled lightly, trying to get the boy to smile. He decided to just call the boy Teddy, since he couldn't understand what the other name he said was. Teddy murmured something about his parents, his home. "I know, kiddo. All of his wanna be home." He murmured softly, leaning against the tree. "Dead porsin.." Eddie cocked an eyebrow, looking over at Nick in a 'what?' kind of way. He'd need to check out this 'dead porsin' later. Teddy seemed to fancy the basketball, banging on it a couple times like it was a drum, and Eddie chuckled, amused. He reached over to pick up a small twig so the boy could use it as if it were a drumstick. That's when Xavier rushed over with a panic stricken face, kneeling by Teddy and softly scolding him. "He's alright, Xavier. He ran across the court while me and Nick were about to start a match." He looked over at him.
@timv999
@andrew21234
@C O N S U M E D☯R A G E

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Eric
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"Eric?"

The bed creaked as Dietrich sat up and crawled against the mattress, and Eric sighed softly as he draped his hand over his shoulder. His head throbbed from being torn away from sleep and reminded of the beating, and suddenly everything seemed to hurt. This sucked. "Mm.. you were out for.." He stopped, his voice light and a bit raspy from sleeping, and thought. How long had it been? 30 minutes? An hour? "..I dunno. An hour maybe." Eric murmured, his eyes still closed as he listened to Dietrich's breathing in the quiet room. "Need some water, or ice?" He offered, knowing he was sore and torn up. He needed to get a closer examination of his wounds to see how severe they were. "Does it feel like anything's broken?" He cracked his eyes open some then, and peeked up at Dietrich, yawning softly. He felt so worn out, each muscle aching and-- Wait... was it night time? Uh oh. Eric's eyes shot open and his breathing hitched. He needed his pills, and he needed them now. His hallucinations were horrific during the night, and usually he took his prescribed pills for his Schizophrenia and then some sleeping pills. "O-One second." He whispered shakily, standing quickly and crossing the room.

He dug around his suitcase for a solid 3 minutes before giving up. Mr. Wilson had taken them to sell and make more money, and Eric panted lightly. Just calm down. Maybe if you calm down, they won't be so bad. Eric knew this was a lie, but it helped soothe his breathing. He needed to go to sleep again, but first, he was more worried about Dietrich. "Let me s-see your wounds." He spoke shakily, and walked over to sit on the side of the bed.
@Ĺค∂rєภgเℓσภ
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[timv999]

Nick kneeled there and listened to what the bou had to say. His name was teddy and it looked like he was another new kid they got today. "Hey little guy my name is Nick." He started to laugh and really smile as teddy started to play the ball like it was a drum. "Wow you're relly good little dude!" Nick turned and looked at Eddie when he heard the little kid mention something about a dead person. Nick jusy shrugged his shoulders as he looked at eddie. As bad of a person as Mr. Wilson was there was no way he would kill one of the kids. Not because he wouldn't want too but because if he did then he would have the police and social sevices all over this place. Nick looked as Xavier ran out. "Don't worry he's okay eddie and I were just talking with him."

@Tart
@andrew21234
@C O N S U M E D☯R A G E

 

[Rowlet]

"...I dunno. An hour maybe."

Dietrich glanced at the window. The sun was setting. However, he anticipated an hour or two before curfew. He averted his eyes toward a nearby clock. It read 7:30 PM. He gripped his forehead, fighting back a groan. God, his migraine was killing him. He massaged his aching skin, breathing deeply. A burst of nausea assaulted him, leaving him woozy.

"Does it feel like anything's broken?"

He ran a hand along his chest, assessing the full extent of his injuries. Fortunately, his arms weren't broken. Bruised, yes, but not crushed. On the other hand, when he reached his ribs, a pained gasp escaped his lips. Dietrich gritted his teeth in response. "M-my ribs. I think a few of them are broken," he admitted. Most of the pain was numbed by his bodily endorphins, but the chemical would wear off in a few hours. He needed pain medication if he wanted to sleep tonight. Moving tomorrow would be a challenge, especially in his condition.

"O-One second."

He watched as Eric rushed to his suitcase, shuffling through his things. A frown marred his lips. "Vhat is vong?" Dietrich inquired. Did Eric lose something? The boy looked panicked. "Vhat do you need?" he added. Concern flickered through his green eyes. He inspected Eric silently, assessing his damage. His face was bruised. A lump formed on his head. Dietrich wasn't certain if Eric possessed injuries underneath his clothes. He wanted to ask, but refrained from his urge. "You look frightened, Täubchen," he pointed out bluntly.

"Let me s-see your wounds."

His frown deepened. "Very vell." Dietrich removed his bloody shirt, revealing his heavily bruised and bleeding torso. He kept his pants on for sake of decency. His legs were damaged, but he refused to strip completely. Dietrich possessed no qualms stripping for showers, but it didn't mean he was comfortable outside the bathroom. Nakedness didn't bother him, but he retained a shred of modesty. "My legs are bruised, but it vill be fine," he assured. He coughed, clearing his hoarse voice. His throat stung from his near drowning experience. He rubbed his neck subconsciously, masking a wince. God, he felt like a broken doll. One day, Mr. Wilson might kill him. Ironically, death didn't frighten him. Seven years of hell diminished any fear for the inevitable. "Vas something stolen from your bag?" Dietrich questioned.

@Tart

((Täubchen: Little Dove))

 

[Mr.Scales ⚖]

.::Leon::.

Leon had been running late last night, he missed the bus when he sneaked out so he had to wait for the next available bus. But when he arrived he noticed that it was already hectic. At least no one will notice. Sneaking through one of the available windows on the main floor. Leon walked in and noticed Mr.Wilson not very happy. No surprise there. The young man walked up the stairs to the bedroom where he flopped down on the bed. "Just one quick nap." Leon laid down and closed his eyes.

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[T E R R O R]

Conner
Tiger
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Conner watched as all of the boys went out of the room followed by him being the last one to leave out. He sighed and walked out seeing that it was getting increasingly dark outside and suddenly remembering that he wanted to enjoy the outside for his first day. He smiled a little and walked over to the room he shared then grabbed some things and started to head outside from the back when he met up with Wilson who seemed to have just cleaned up from something he did earlier. He looked the guy straight in the eyes, "Where do you think you're going?" he asked. Conner looked at him and didn't answer, he had a feeling that he already knew where he was going which is why he was blocking the back door. "Did you hear me boy? Where are you going?" he asked again more sternly as he began to close the big gap in between them. Conner bit his lip before looking at him, "Outside.." he finally spoke. Wilson sarcastically laughed before getting serious again, "You're not going anywhere.." he said then pushed back Conner. Conner closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "Fine, whatever." he told him and started to turn around before he was pushed forward. "Yeah, go ahead. I heard your mom was a crack head, I hope you don't bring any of that shit into this house." he said and smirked. Conner stopped in his tracks, he didn't want this to happen...this was his greatest fear. He hated this side of himself and right now he was trying so hard to let him out. Wilson continued to talk about him, No...stay calm..don't do it..don't do it... he thought trying not to lose it. "I guess that's why she disowned you? She probably though you'd be one too..was your dad one?" he asked. That sent him over, his fist were now clenched as he ran over to Wilson and tackled him to the ground. He grabbed one of the throwing knives he brought here and held it to his neck. "You fucking prick, I should slit your damn throat! You don't know me, don't act like you do you sick fucking bastard." he said as he started to force the knife down further a little on his skin. If someone didn't get him now, he would commit murder on this guy and go to jail...
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I think this song is best for this post!

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[T E R R O R]

Westly
Teddy
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Teddy looked up at Eddie, "Edee?" he pronounced back at him hoping that it was right or close to it. The little boy continued to bang on the ball before Xavier came over looking worried and scared a bit. He didn't catch everything that he said, but he did catch something about running off and not to do that anymore. West nodded while looking at Xavier then went back to what he was doing as they discussed whatever they were talking about. When Eddie gave him the stick, he didn't really understand what to do with it at first then eventually put two and two together and started hitting the ball with it like he actually had a drum stick as well. Nick was the next person Westly looked up at, "Nick...?" he pronounced back to the blonde boy. As they were talking with each other, the sun was slowly going down at the night light for the front of the house came on. Westly looked up at the sky, "Nite!" he said looking at all three of them before looking up again to see the few stars, more would probably pop up later on in the night. The male then looked around at the darkness, "Scary monsters..." he said as he continued to look in the places that weren't lite at all.
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[Mr.Scales ⚖]

.::Leon::.

As he rested his eyes, the young male started hearing a ruckus outside the boys room, not coming from close to him, but the sound was loud.. Leon marched to the stairsto see what the Hell was happening when he saw an older male with something against Mr.Wilsons neck. Even if he hated the man maybe more then the rest, he couldn't ignore a time like this.Leon ran down the stairs when he saw them. "What the Hell!?" Leon had no idea who the boy was with the knife at wilsons neck, but it must of been yet another boy to the house, and that Wilson must of done something really bad to deserve it.

Leon quickly grabbed the males shirt and tried to pull hoping he could get him off of Mr.Wilson "I know..Ugh that the man is a bastard and a fucking psycho, believe me i would like to beat him to a pulp..But we aren't like him, if you do cut him you would be sinking to his level..And that's no good."​

 

[tart.]

Eric
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Eric held back a gasp as Dietrich removed his tattered and wet shirt, and moved closer to get a better look. "Geez. That bastard.." He murmured under his breath, referring to Mr. Wilson of course, and gently ran a finger over his rib-cage to feel for swelling. Infiltration was evident in some areas, and Eric clicked his tongue in worry. "Some are indeed broken." What would they do? A broken bone was a bit serious, and if not handled carefully, could heal the wrong way or mend incorrectly.

"Vas something stolen from your bag?"

Eric jumped, as if startled, and his breath hitched at the question. Should he tell him about all his disorders? No.. he'd think he was some freak of nature. He shook his head no quietly, and kept from crying out in surprise as the first hallucination of the night appeared behind Dietrich. It was some type of oily black monster, writhing around him as the German boy sat there, not doing a thing at all. "D-Dietrich!" He squealed, as if trying to get his attention so he could move away from the creature. Wait. Eric, calm down. It's not real. It's never real. None of these things are real. He must have repeated these thoughts in his head before he calmed down. He realized his eyes had closed involuntarily, and he was clenching Dietrich's wrist. "Sorry!" He let go instantly, and held his breath to keep from freaking out. Dietrich definitely thought he was some weirdo now, some pitiful freak.

"You're right, Eric. You're such a pitied child."

"Die."

"Honestly, why do you even try anymore?"

"Give up."

Eric winced at the random intrusion of voices, and held a stern expression as he continued to look at the wounds that scattered across Dietrich's fair skin, the voices continuously getting louder and harsher. Ignore them. Ignore them and they'll go away, Eric. But of course, this wasn't the case.
@Ĺค∂rєภgเℓσภ

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[Rowlet]

"Some are indeed broken."

A finger ran along his rib cage, assessing the damage. Dietrich gritted his teeth, ignoring a jolt of pain surging down his spine. Broken ribs were messy. Honestly, he didn't know what to do. Would he be allowed to visit the emergency room? No. Personal home visit? Unlikely. Sometimes, if his wounds were severe, Dietrich snuck out and hitched a ride to town. He played the victim of a violent gang beating perfectly. Fooling the doctors in the hospital was child's play. On the other hand, paying for the hospital bills was tricky. He possessed no qualms stealing from Mr. Wilson, but he needed to be careful. Based from the severity of his wounds, Dietrich needed to sneak out. However, he couldn't move. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day. He made a mental note to arrange transportation later.

"D-Dietrich!"

Dietrich blinked, confusion marring his expression. Why was Eric looking behind him? He glanced behind his shoulder, but didn't see anything. What frightened the newcomer? Dietrich saw through Eric's lie. His eyebrows furrowed in response. Suddenly, he flinched, hissing from Eric's involuntary grip. His wrist was painfully bruised. He rubbed his wrist gently, smearing blood from his cuts. His hands throbbed with pain. Dietrich needed serious medical attention. He inspected Eric silently, contemplating on his behavior. Concern shined through his green eyes. "Are you seeing things?" Dietrich inquired keenly. He wasn't certain about Eric's situation, but he detected odd behavior. He gaze lowered to his knees. "I von't judge you, you know. Ve all have our problems. You're looking at me as if I'm going to resent you," he pointed out. Dietrich ran a hand through his dark blonde hair, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. "For the record, I von't," he assured.

Dietrich lifted his eyes. "Ve have no reasons to trust each other, but ve are stuck here until ve're eighteen. Might as vell build a foundation," he declared.

@Tart

 

[tart.]

(( mobile ))

Eric

Eric stopped looking over the bruises and cuts, and stared at the floor. "Are you seeing things?" He froze, opening his mouth to protest, then closing it. Was it so obvious? Or was Dietrich just good at reading people? Eric listened to the German boy as he spoke, and fiddled with the edge of his shirt, contemplating whether to tell him or not.

Eric took a shaky breath, "..I.." his throat got that familiar tickle in it, the signs of crying. Uh uh, not in front of people. He straightened up and looked right into Dietrich's green eyes, "I suffer from Schizophrenia." He spoke softly, but firm, and was surprised he hadn't stuttered. Eric was used to holding back tears by now, and he was hiding the fact he was about to break down right then pretty well. He wasn't always so weak and timid, in fact, he was once quite outgoing and cheeky, and was seen as strong. But deaths of people he loved changed him, and he developed his severe anxiety and depression. He suffered from Schizophrenia since he was young, but it skyrocketed to severe levels when he was orphaned.

"Mr. Wilson probably took my pills." He murmured, and looked back down at his hands, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I need to get to bed before they get worse... But I'll tend to you first." He murmured, getting up to get the cleaning supplies from the bathroom.

 

[andrew21234]

"I was just worried that he would get lost or that the old man would get ahold of him," Xavier said to the two older boys. He did over react but he had been scared for the little boy's safety. When he heard Teddy talk about scary monsters he picked him up and said, "there aren't any scary monsters out there." He was being truthful because the real monster was inside the house. "Now let's get you a bath Diertrich should be in bed by now, he was starting to talk when I left so I'm sure he's fine by now," he finished before turning back towards the house calling to the two boys behind him, "don't stay out too late or you'll be sleeping on the floor."

@C O N S U M E D☯R A G E

 

[Rowlet]

"I suffer from Schizophrenia."

His deduction was correct. Well, not the condition. However, he anticipated Eric was seeing things. Sympathy coursed through him. Dietrich couldn't imagine the horrors. Sometimes, he suffered from hallucinations, but it didn't originate from a medical condition. When he was severely exhausted and experiencing insomnia, his mind plagued him with guilt. Dietrich lifted his hand and draped it on Eric's shoulder. "I know vhere Mr. Vilson keeps confiscated items. Your pills vould be in the pile," he announced. He glanced at his mangled chest. A frown marred his lips. "I vould show you, but I can barely move," he admitted.

"I need to get to bed before they get worse...But I'll tend to you first."

Dietrich nodded in response. A stab of guilt sliced through him. If he wasn't battered, he could of retrieved Eric's pills. He refused to allow Mr. Wilson deprive an innocent boy from his medication. It was sadistic and cruel, especially with Eric's condition. How would he be able to snatch Eric's pills? He couldn't move. He could barely breath. If he wanted a wink of sleep, he needed pain medication. Dietrich needed to act quick before Mr. Wilson sold his recent stash of stolen items. He bit his lip in contemplation. Dietrich stared out the window, lost in thought.

@Tart

 

[Dramma]

Police sirens. Handcuffs. Radios.

That's all Tanner could remember as he sat in the back of the police cruiser. His mind running in circles as he swayed in the back screaming at the police words that didn't make sense. Not even being able to comprehend sentences and his walking was more like falling as his frail body was intoxicated beyond belief. Tomorrow morning would be hell let along remembering everything that happened. Despite being in his drunken phase his body was craving nicotine as he tried to get his light and pack of cigs in his back pocket but realized he couldn't do anything with that handcuffs. Slamming his head into the seat he looked out the window as he almost threw up, his body felt so numb. His mind was blank. This was his way of dealing with pain and losing his family it was blank before he saw a bench. The blackness of the bench shown under a streetlight, the bars when instantly he had flashbacks to the night. The one party he wish he never went to, it was a college frat party and he was invited by some frat guy and he went before he realized no one else was there. Then again he always got there early, more alcohol. Then going in he found a couple of frat guys and started drinking before he started going limp, then it happened.

Before being brought to his attention by being pushed out of the car and towards a house. Passing a sign saying Mr. Wilsons orphanage Tanner sighed this is where he was going? Not jail this was stupid, Tanner thought as he stumbled along the pathway as his handcuffs were moved. The police pushed him to the ground as the young boy crawled to the door rather then walking as it was easier as he pulled himself up to the door...he knocked.​

 

[tart.]

Eddie
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Eddie watched as Xavier walked off with the young boy at his side, and looked over at Nick. "So much for that basketball match." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck and stretching. "Well, we can always return to it tomorrow. Let's head to bed for now." Of course, Eddie didn't actually intend to go to sleep. He had plans of sneaking out and getting in a few more drinks, perhaps cigarettes if he can get his hands on them. With a few moments of silence, he stood up and dusted off his jeans before glancing at Nick. "C'mon." Eddie murmured before striding down to the lawn of Mr. Wilson's home.

With the sight he was greeted, his good mood instantly plummeted and died. A kid was being pushed out of the back of a police car, and the boy then proceeded to crawl towards the door. Angry, Eddie walked up to the kid as he rang the doorbell and the police drove off. Something that Eddie absolutely couldn't tolerate was when kids younger then him smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, or in this kid's case, reeked with the smell. This angered him because it reminded him how young that he himself had started out with alcohol and smoking. And this...punk...reminded him of himself at his age. Eddie peered down at him, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. "You must be new here, kid. And with the way you look, Mr. Wilson will make sure you receive a beating in your first 30 minutes here." Eddie spat down at him venomously, eyes cold and icy. "By the way, welcome to hell."

He stepped around him to open the door. He was expecting Mr. Wilson to already be standing there, but his sight settled on something a bit more... interesting. Mr. Wilson was pinned to the ground and held captive by Connor with a knife lined with his throat, while some newbie gripped onto him desperately. "What the--?" Eddie instantly charged forward, his previous anger driving him, and he shoved at Connor's side to try and push him off. Obviously, a mere shove wouldn't do much since this guy was so raged. "Connor! Calm down, man!" Eddie swatted at the new guy to get off his back and moved behind Connor, gripping his shoulders and pulling harshly. "Connor, god dammit!"

​

Eric
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Eric slowly walked down the hall to the bathroom, each step cautious. His forehead beaded with sweat and his eyes darted around, keeping watch for any movement, any shadow, any creature. His heart pounded in his throat as he finally reached the eerily quiet and empty bathroom. The lights were off, and the darkness was beckoning him cruelly. Eric swallowed down the lump in his throat, and flicked on the switch. Thankfully, no hallucination awaited him. Timidly Eric walked into the tiled room and quickly gathered the supplies that he needed for Dietrich, which were more bandages and alcohol for some cuts he didn't get to clean before Mr. Wilson gave him his 2nd beating. Eric turned around to walk back to the bedroom, but a man now stood in the doorway. He was dressed down casually, but his eyes were completely black. Eric dropped the supplies, hands trembling as the man just stood there, watching him. Feeling helpless, Eric stepped back as his breathing picked up. The man also took a step forward, causing Eric to shriek. "Why?" The man asked in a low monotone voice. Eric shook his head hopelessly, on the verge of tears. "I don't know you. I don't know you. You're not real." He whispered, before clenching his eyes shut.

A few minutes passed before he reopened his eyes a sliver, and thankfully, the man was gone. Eric slowly kneeled down to collect the fallen supplies, and rushed back to the room. He shut the door behind him quickly and stood there for a moment, facing towards the door as he breathed heavily, trying to calm down. Clearing his throat, he turned back around and walked over to sit down beside Dietrich. "Sorry I took so long." He whispered almost inaudibly, and gently set the supplies down on the bed. His hands shook involuntarily, his face pale. "Um.. I can try and sneak out to buy you some p-pain pills here in a bit... I have some cash." He offered, before gently grabbing the other's arm to rewrap his hand since Mr. Wilson had destroyed the previous bandaging.
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