The Imposter

"I don't want to talk about them, it'll just make me mad and I'm not... I don't like being mad, that's not something I'm comfortable with. I just thought we could hang out. I need new friends, and you need friends too, so I think it'd be good for us. Obviously, Rene's the best person to befriend if you want to be a somebody in this school, but... hey, I'm pretty popular too, I think people like me just as much as they like him," he prided easily, glancing around the room with a faint grimace now on his face. It was always awkward for someone like him to move around, especially in rooms that were on the small side for his liking, though it was a problem only he could really understand; he doubted anyone else properly understood how difficult things could be for him.

"Rene and I aren't friends anymore, obviously, but we could be friends. I think you're cool. You aren't judgemental, which is nice. I think I'm fabulous, but a lot of people tend to judge me. I suppose I can understand why," he shrugged, finding a spot to sit down in the corner. "...People judge you a lot, but I wouldn't worry about it. You're sweet, they'll see that eventually. People here are pretty... elitist sometimes. If you're a little different, they pounce on that and judge you. I should know."
 
"I don't really see why I'm so different," he admitted softly before setting his folded clothes into the dresser. "Sure, I'm not as well-trimmed as some people but my hair grows back so quickly that there's no real point. I'm from a wealthy family too so I just don't understand why people are so taken aback my me."

Once everything was neat, the werewolf eased back with a heavy sigh. He was exhausted, naturally, but willing to at least talk to the drider. "Who cares who likes you? Is that why I'm different, because I don't care about being popular? I like the people I like and it's great when they like me back but... who cares?"
 
"People here care a lot about reputation, you know? And appearance. If you don't fit in with the norm, you're pretty much ostracised until you prove that you're worth them taking notice of you. It's sad, I suppose. If my mother wasn't as powerful as she was in our community, I'd be ignored. I don't think many people here appreciate my appearance much. It's one thing being a drider, and another thing being as... flamboyant as I am. I think my family name gives me my popularity. That, and my friendship with Rene," he mumbled, only realising then that said popularity would probably crumble now that friendship was terminated. Then again, popularity, as fun as it was, wasn't the most important thing to him... even if he enjoyed the feeling of having all eyes on him and people whispering when he walked into a room. It was a feeling of importance that he loved, but he knew he ought to forget about that now.

"They don't like how you look. The whole tattoo thing is... unheard of. You must come from a really wealthy family if they accepted you here looking like you do-- not that I'm judging. I'd much prefer hanging out with you than, say, Percy."
 
"Oh shit - it's the tattoos?" He replied in genuine surprise while a hand ran through his hair absently. "Ah, yeah. I guess my pa said it was alright after the first time I 'turned', said I was finally a man, ironically. I guess I'm an early bloomer, this doesn't usually happen until you turn 20," he explained, it all seemingly spoken automatically, said almost word for word how his father told him.

"I mean, shit was terrifying. No one ever told me that I was a werewolf, it just... happened. Hng, like I said my pa responded by celebrating and letting me get any tattoo I wanted as long as I had the family crest," he added before moving his sleeve up to expose the masterfully tattooed crest on his upper arm.
 
"I imagine it was terrifying, yes. But you got a great tattoo out of it, so it was worth it in the end, at least," the other monster cooed, resting his chin in his hands as he absently eyed the other's tattoo once it was on display. He had absolutely no judgements about it. If anything, the fact Marcus didn't fit in with the general elitism in the school was a good thing. All the boyfriends Sylvan had were all different to the norm, often outsiders to it, even though Sylvan himself took pride in being popular and fully immersed himself into the social norms at the school. He did feel a twinge of guilt, being sat in Marcus' room clearly flirting with the boy, but, given Brennan had kissed someone else and confessed his love for them, feeling guilty for doing nothing but flirting was ridiculous.

"I like them. Your tattoos, I mean. I'm obviously very passionate about self-expression and individuality. I applaud it, really. If it makes you happy, go for it," he beamed, pushing his dyed hair from his face slowly. "Especially when it gives you an edge. I'd love a tattoo, but it's not easy for me to get one. You have the advantage of looking human. I'd get shot in the head immediately if I tried to approach a human for a tattoo."
 
"Oh, well, I know how to do stick'n'poke," he admitted with a smile, immediately beaming himself when the other seem interested in not only him but his culture. Shimmying his casual shorts a bit, he lowered the side down enough to show off a small little heart on his hip. It wasn't perfect, sure, but it was a lot better than the ones he saw his small group of friends give one another.

"Yeah, I had, like, three friends that we'd just skip school sometimes to drink. One night I looked up how to do them on the internet and just... did it. I gave myself a heart and my lad Rodney a cute star. Maria got a flower, and whatnot. It ain't a full tattoo but they're cute and subtle enough," he explained before shimmying his shorts back up with a loud yawn. "I'd love to give you one."
 
"A big burly werewolf like you has a cutesy little heart on your hip? I approve, that's fantastic," the drider gushed, his mouth open in genuine fascination, as well as clear amazement that the tattoo had been one by Marcus' own hand. There wasn't many things in life that could impress Sylvan, but that definitely did, and he wasn't afraid to let the other know that he was impressed. The situation was only bettered when the offer was made, leaving him smiling quietly at the idea.

"I would love that-- maybe a cute little heart like yours? My mother wouldn't approve, but I'm almost 18, I think I can start to do what I like," he declared easily with a wave of his hand, biting his lip the more the idea sunk in. "...Could you really do that? Rene doesn't like tattoos, nobody here does, but that wouldn't stop me-- I can pay you, of course. I wouldn't ask you to do it for free."
 
"You don't have to pay me, I don't need the money," he reassured with a bashful smile and a laugh. "It's for fun, and I'm definitely not a professional. It's not like I'm gonna give you a million pound tattoo that you need to pay me for, it's just a cute little heart somewhere. I brought my own Indian ink but the one thing that would help is to get more - granted, I don't know how many people here would want stick'n'poke tattoos..." He babbled on, never having been given a compliment hence his face only growing redder.

"When do you want it? I mean, I mean, I don't want to rush you into anything you don't want," he insisted. "If you're not ready, we can do it tomorrow or something. Ah... and where would you want it? Your bottom half looks too hard to pierce through with just a needle."
 
"I was thinking it'd be cute on my wrist," he admitted, turning his hand over to inspect the area, a slow smile creeping back onto his face. He had no doubts that other students would judge him, just as they were judging Marcus, but he was fine with that. He cared about his popularity, but he wasn't going to deny himself something he wanted, especially when it was a way to help him express himself. If he got judged for that, he could live with it.

"Oh, I'd love it done right now. Help me get over my little... relationship drama. I was even considering dropping out. Rene's parents run this place, there are pictures of him everywhere. I don't really want to be constantly reminded that I'm no longer friends with him because he snogged my boyfriend. I have a ton of siblings who are all homeschooled, it wouldn't be odd for me to drop out and join them," he casually admitted as he adjusted the dressing gown around his shoulders, smiling quietly. "...I won't be doing that, though. My mother's determined for me to graduate this place, said I'll be her pride and joy. I can't let her down-- besides, we're friends now, and I don't abandon my friends."
 
"Well, I think it's sweet that your mother believes in you so much," he added before quickly hurrying to his suitcase. The whole stick'n'poke hobby was one that his parents didn't know about but as they say, getting tattoos is addicting. He fully intended to give himself some more in the future so to break out the kit so early was exciting, especially since he was giving it to someone else. So, with the proper ink a lighter and a pin, he lit the pin until it glowed blue.

"Okay, how high is your pain tolerance? Have you ever been pricked with a needle before? 'Cuz that's what this is, essentially, but like... a lot of times," he explained before tugging out the last step, that of which were some gloves - sure, he was no professional tattoo artist but that didn't mean he didn't do his research. "Like, I don't want you running off to tell on me because this hurt too much. I don't want to get in trouble my first day, you know?"
 
"I've had vaccinations as a child, I... I'm sure I handled them without crying. I'm tough, Marcus. I may not look tough, but I am. A little tattoo isn't going to hurt-- and even if it did, I'm not going to rush off and cry to anyone about it. I'm many things, but I'm not a snitch," he huffed, his cheeks reddening a tad at the comment. He knew they had just met and it was difficult to know a person fully in that short amount of time, but it didn't mean the remark didn't annoy him a little.
 
"Okay, okay, relax," he replied, holding up his hands defensively with a smile before moving to start the process skillfully by drawing a heart with a sharpie. "Is this good? I don't want your first one to be too big, I don't think I want to get yelled at by your mother because it was too noticeable," he teased before popping open the ink and grabbing the proper wipes.

"Either way it'll look cool. Like, in a cute way though. No offense but you don't scream tough guy."
 
"You don't think I look tough?" He queried with a genuine look of surprise. The common misconception about him was that he was tough and violent, which strangers purely based on his appearance and their knowledge of his species. In reality, despite looking intimidating when he wanted to be, there wasn't a violent streak in him whatsoever, and if often took a lot of convincing to assure strangers he was perfectly harmless. The fact Marcus seemed to think differently was surprising, and he wasn't sure if he was thankful for it, or offended. After all, his mother prided herself on her toughness. To be told he didn't look tough would be considered highly offensive if his mother was around to hear it.

"...I think I can be tough if I want to be. I suppose I'm not tough, though. I cry when I chip a nail," he snorted, examining the heart before nodding in approval. "It's cute. Cute is what I'm going for, it fits my image well."
 
"I know what tough looks like. I mean, look at me," He cooed teasingly before starting with the tattoo, being as careful as he could. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Sylvan and have him run off and tell on him. He needed to stay in the academy for his parents, after all, and this was a once in a lifetime chance.

"You okay?" He questioned warily, before deciding to continue anyway. "This is a good time to bond, yeah? Tell me about yourself. I'm pretty boring so you probably don't want to hear me rant but still, you're far more interesting."
 
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The pain did take him by surprise, his eyes wide for a few seconds when the shock hit him. He eventually acclimatised to it, even though a wince or two still passed by his lips every now and then. When he was questioned, he forced a smile and pretended like he was fine. After all, showing vulnerability was always something his mother had informed him never to do, even amongst people he deemed friends.

"I'm very interesting. My family live incredibly nearby, a ten minute walk, but I'm the only one to attend school. My other siblings aren't that interested in it, but Rene and I have been friends since we were young so I wanted to come here to be with him. My mother's on the committee, you know. That's a big deal in our community, I'm sure you know that. She attends every single meeting and that's how I met Rene, when I came along with her one time. It makes his betrayal all the more upsetting, really..." He drawled, rolling his eyes to himself at having reminded himself of the incident. Quickly, he shook it from his brain and offered a smile to gloss over his brief pause.

"I intend to take her place on the committee when I'm old enough. It's not what I want to do, but job opportunities are limited when I look the way I do-- and besides, I suppose it's an incredible honour to have a seat at the table. I care a lot about our community-- I'm not as selfish and self-absorbed as people think I am. Though I do love myself, obviously. I think I'm great."
 
"I could never do that," he admitted easily with a shrug. "I... I sort of crumble under pressure, if I'm going to be honest. I mean, I don't even like raising my hand in class let alone be a part of a committee... especially if my ex friend was on it, too," he explained before shooting a glance up at the driver, his brows raising.

He liked drama, what more could be said? If he was bored, he wasn't going to deny that he enjoyed watching everything from the sideline. He'd sprinkle little things into conversations to trigger the drama but he never wanted to be pointed out as a troublemaker. This was the perfect opportunity for some drama, though, wasn't it? "I've got a human job I can take after school. To be honest I don't know why I'm here, outside of my monthly, Ah... problem."
 
As the werewolf spoke, Sylvan found his smile growing wider by the second, even despite the unsubtle reference about Rene that was clearly intending to stir a little drama. If there was one thing Sylvan liked, it was drama - he was just often the one in Marcus' position, stirring things up. It was quite weird for him to be on the other end of things, but he still found the amusement in it, as evidenced by his dry smirk.

"I'm the queen of drama, Marcus. Don't think I don't know what you're doing," he pointed out with a snort, his eyes returning to the tattoo that was starting to take shape on his wrist. "...For the record, I'll deal with Rene easily. I might not like him but I won't turn down a position on the committee because of the back-stabbing little bastard. That position will solidify me as a powerful player in the community. I won't let him ruin that for me, hm? That'd be silly and detrimental. I won't be friends with him but I can cooperate with him, hon."
 
"You both should really talk," he admitted after a moment. "I mean, I'm a slut for drama, you're right on the money but Percy and I have a bit of strange history and honestly I don't want to deal with that sort of shit. I like to rubber-neck, not be a part of the actual crash," he explained with a chuckle as he, too, took in the cute tattoo. He was no master so whenever he saw something he made work out successfully, he couldn't help but smile wide.

"You're still okay, right? I don't want this to hurt. I mean, I'm literally breaking skin over and over again, I highly doubt that it feels nice. I got hardy skin, what with the whole werewolf thng," he explained before pausing. ".... Fuck Percy, though. They're a match made in Hell, that's for sure. He's got that whole shy thing but he can be a fucking cunt when he wants to be. Like I said, I don't even know why he's here."
 
"I don't think he's one of us. I have a hunch he's 100% human. He smells like one," the drider responded slowly, tearing his eyes off his new tattoo to offer the other a reassuring smile. Of course, the pain was unlike anything he had felt in a while, but he was determined to keep his vulnerability at a minimum. As much as he liked Marcus, the boy was still a stranger to him, and Sylvan only showed his vulnerability to those he really cared about. In fact, it was mostly limited to family, with the only exception being Rene.

"I don't care about inconsequential little Percy. Rene will find him out sooner than later. If he isn't lying about what he is, he's lying about something else. He's got a deceptive face," he declared easily, pushing his dyed hair back from his face with a slight huff. He usually had Rene to give him a quick trim, as he often did for him in return, but like hell was he going to ask him for any help now. "You don't cut hair, do you? My hair's too long-- I could grow it out but I'd look dumb. I like it short, you know?"
 
"I usually just shave my head when it gets too long," he admitted casually. "Appearances don't really matter all that much in my pack. The only thing that matters is that we have our crest tattooed somewhere and nothing else really matters, especially when all the effort goes to waste when shit grows back so quickly. That doesn't count for when we hunt, which is a whole 'nother story. I know you wouldn't understand and that's okay," he shrugged before pausing to offer a smile in return.

"I dunno, I think it looks good but like I said, I'm not really on top of my fashion game. You and Rene are both pretty 'fashionable', aren't you? It's too much work, in my opinion. Just a quick shave everywhere that matters. Now that it's so cold up here I might just trim, keep some extra hair to make sure I don't freeze to death when I go out," he teased.
 
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