Trouble in Paradise

[TragicTrees]

Icarus Daveys needed to get out more.

That's what his parents had said, at least. His sister had said it as well, actually, for the past 2 years. She seemed convinced that after the accidents that he had kept more to himself than usual, and even though he had assured her many times that he simply needed to work so they could have a steady flow of money, she didn't let up about it. Which, she may have been partially correct, but he wasn't about to actually admit that to her.

See, bad things tended to follow him around in his life. A lot. It was as if bad luck ran in his family, and he had just gotten the most of it. Because, the thing about Icarus Daveys was that he and his sister were the last living people remaining in his family.

His grandparents had died of natural causes when he was 6. On his fathers side, they had only had one child, so that had knocked out any family members from that area. On his mothers side, he had had 2 aunts and 1 uncle. Nothing happened in the few years following, so everything was fine til he turned 8.

At age 8, his Aunt Dedra had gotten to a car accident which had ended up breaking her spine. At age 9, Aunt Cathy had been the victim of a robbery and the bullet that came with it. Age 11 had his family mourning the loss of Uncle James, who hadn't had enough money to stay on his pills and didn't tell anyone. Age 15 and Cousin Anthony, who's father divorced Aunt Dedra and therefore wasn't a real part of the family, realized he really should've looked both ways before crossing the street. Then, at age 17, his parents boarded a plane that didn't end up making it to its destination.

The last one had really set him down the path of rapidly losing any and all contact with people other than Kelly, his sister. It wasn't because he felt he was absolutely fucking cursed- though, that was a part of it -but it was also because he was just too busy. When his parents died, Kelly was already a legal age, 20, and that meant that she was able to keep the house. However, in the will there just wasn't enough money for the two of them to pay for the mortgage, along with food and other necessities. When you're working 3 jobs, you don't have much time for anything other than sleep.

But Kelly insisted that he should get out more, which was insane to him, but he didn't tell that to her face. Not until she had come home one day with a plane ticket and a fully paid vacation to a resort that she had won in a raffle. That was when he told her she was out of her mind.

She ended up insisting, though, which forced him to say yes, figuring that it wouldn't be too horrible to catch a break. That had made her extremely happy. If nothing else, that would have been worth it.

It turned out to be a lovely place, though. Really great. It was obviously for really rich people, which made him stand out a bit, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He was enjoying himself. Was. That was past tense. Soon after his arrival, people started dying.

Which freaked him out, because while they were framed like accidents, he didn't trust it. 'Oh, there's no murderer here!' the staff would say, but that was bullshit and he knew it. There couldn't be this many accidents in this amount of time that all turned out fatal. No way.

This had led to the current point in time, where he was banging on the door of his next door neighbor in the middle of the night. What could he say? He wasn't staying in that fucking room alone any longer, so this person would need to learn to deal with him.

 

[SunOfTheStar]

Caspian was many things: A monster to food, a total sweetheart to his family, and an enemy to vegetables- let's not forget a serious overworking individual.

It was when he tasted the very first trace of cupcake batter did he realize his destiny. In baked goods. Ever since then, its been his dream to partake in the baking business. Something simple and homely. Living in a house of 4, not including the furred companions, of course trouble would ensue some way or another. One may think an adult still living with his family would be a disgrace, but there was no other option, lest he wanted his family down the drain.

His loving parents, Patricia and James Lockett, just wasn't capable of providing for themselves, not completely. They were practically drowning in debt, desperately working to pay it off. Caspian's older brother, Samuel, also stayed with them to assist but only around the house. It fell to the younger sibling to gain a job quickly, landing one in a bakery at just 16. Despite the low pay and irritable customers at times, the experience wasn't entirely cruddy- he was helping his family, and in a bakery. Pretty much what he wanted, just in a less than stellar reason.

Just when it seemed things would forever be a misery, the debt was finally paid off, 2 years later. The family could finally take a breath of relief, though Caspian refused to leave his work, dedicated to the fine arts of baking and keeping the flow of money prominent. By now, the bakery had developed for the better, new equipment, employees, slogans, you name it. It didn't take long for him to be promoted. He was fairly happy to keep doing his work, the sweet smells wafting in his nose for hours on end was a Godsend.

However, his devotion caused him a bit of trouble, constantly insisting on overtime and working himself to the bone. His parents pleaded for him to take a simple break, but why should he? With the money he brought in, everyone was well off. Not to mention that he was in his dream job. What was wrong with that? Absolutely nothing.

Not even his brother could convince him to take a snooze, which was quite a surprise considering Caspian followed his words down to the letter. It was only when his manager confronted him that he threw a fit. Apparently, he accumulated far too many vacation days, and was required to embark on one. Of course, he tried bargaining ways to stay, but they wouldn't have it. Which was why he was currently on a plane to some resort, courtesy of the bakery. All throughout the flight, he had the face of a pissed off tot. Making him go on a vacation, what kind of a monster would do that?

His attitude changed once he actually arrived, baffled by the grand surroundings. He wasn't what people would call 'wealthy' so of course this was out of his league. The dessert table stood no chance against his wrath. It all seemed perfect. Too perfect. Though that tidbit didn't occur to him as he was lounged out on the beach.

Then, the murders came. Now, Caspian is the naive and oblivious type, who'd most likely take years to figure out an inside joke. So when numerous deaths kept popping up, he let the staff sooth his nerves. What are the odds that he'd die? Pretty low, he thought. The people had his sincere condolences.

Possibly the best aspect of the resort was the bed. Never has he felt something so soft and comfy. It wasn't long before sleep overtook him, his body comfortably sprawled out. Such serenity, such peace. Until he was woken up by loud banging. In the middle of the night. It took a lot to tick him off, and this was one of them. He flopped out of bed with his eyes still half closed, stumbling over to open the door. His expression was a mixture of grogginess, irritation, and confusion. What clothing he had on now was a light blue t-shirt saying, 'Cake is my friend', and space cat sweatpants.

"Look, ma'am, it's almost midnight," He started, rubbing his eyes, "Why are you attacking my door, can't you see people are trying to sleep?" Could anyone blame his mistake? Probably. "Normally I'm all for company, but not now, I'm on vacation. Come back again..." His voice trailed off as he spoke, being interrupted by a yawn. The door was quickly closed on the stranger, this was no time to socialize. He had to admit, that was one tall woman.

His beloved fiancé, the bed, welcomed him back with open blankets. If he was going to be on a forced vacation, he wasn't about to let it be ruined.

 

[TragicTrees]

Ma'am....? Ma'am? That guy certainly had some nerve! Unfortunately, he was the one that was next door, and Icarus didn't intend to move too far. Mr. Asshole would have to do for the current moment. Besides, it was perfectly normal to be confused about some random person banging on your door at 12 AM, right? So he would cut mystery man some slack.

He took a moment, staring down the door that had been closed in his face with a scowl, running a hand through the unruly curls he had for hair. Breath in, breath out. This was fine. This was okay. He'd dealt with doors being closed on him before. The trick was persistence and constant annoyance.

The thing was, Icarus had always been paranoid. His family, at one point, had moved to a new house in South Virginia. This had been around the time he was 9, right after Aunt Cathy had gotten shot, and his parents had seemed to think moving away would help. It really, really didn't. In fact, the fact that the new house had a basement, unlike their last home, only made it worse. Within the first weeks of moving, Icarus had been convinced that a serial killer lived in their basement.

Later on, he had realized that everything he heard and saw was a mixture of a rat infestation and the house simply setting, but at the time it had felt extremely real. He had complained to his parents on multi occasions, but neither really listened, tiredly assuring him that everything was okay.

He had soon taken it upon himself to get Kelly to agree to let him sleep in her room. At first, she had been pissed off about it. After a little banging and persistance, though....well, she was still pissed, but she was pissed and he was in the room instead of being out.

So that was exactly what he'd do here.

He knocked once more, calling out "Hey, uh, not a lady, first of all! Thanks for the compliment, though, I guess? But seriously, do you mind letting me speak before fucking shutting the door in my face?"

 

[SunOfTheStar]

Being interrupted from his slumber once was frustrating as it was, but twice? Many unholy thoughts were brewing in his head, most of them involving a baseball bat. He had no idea why some random lady was at his door at this time of night nor did he care. His hands moved to bring a pillow down onto him, muffling the knocks somewhat effectively.

So sleep wasn't coming tonight. Great. He groaned angrily as he sat up, throwing his pillow at the wall before trudging back to the door. Once again, he was greeted by the woman. Or not? "You're not a woman?" He queried, taking a step back to look him up and down with squinted eyes. "Huh. Sorry, Sir."

The rude tone definitely wasn't appreciated, but he's definitely heard worse directed towards him. Let's just say that some people don't like nutmeg all that much. Wasn't his fault. Had it not been the fact that he was tired and it was night, he probably would have been saying much more than 'Sorry, Sir.'

Another yawn came as he scratched the back of his neck, a small frown on his face. "I dunno if you're late to the memo, but people aren't usually in a talking mood at this time. Maybe I wouldn't have shut the door if you weren't banging the door like a maniac. What do you want? Extra towels? Uhh, a pillow? A cookie?"

Although he was trying his darned hardest to be polite, every fiber he had wanted to slam the door on Mr.I-get-mad-when-I-caused-the-problem. Then again, he probably would just go back to harassing his door, so he played ball.

For now, at least. He had a day planned for relaxation starting at nine o'clock and he wasn't going to oversleep.

None of this would have happened if he wasn't forced on vacation, but no, he just had to.

 

[TragicTrees]

All good offers, he had to admit. Icarus was almost tempted to take a cookie, but that wouldn't help him with his current situation. He wouldn't be able to get back to sleep if he didn't have someone else in the room with him, and if he didn't sleep, he'd be sleep deprived. That would be a down-hill slippery slope, and he had no doubt that it would end in something bad happening. Even without a murderer on the loose, him lacking sleep was never good.

See, he had LMT. LMT stood for Low Muscle Tone, and it basically was what it sounded like: he didn't have as much muscle as everyone else, and that meant he wasn't as strong. Big whoop. What's the big deal, you may ask. Well, it didn't just make him weaker. There were other issues that came along with it. The list was big, and included things like how his ankles and knees gave out at random times, he was more prone to twisting something, and, of course, he had muscle spasms when he got tired.

Super great things, right? Of course. But, that was the reason he couldn't lose sleep, especially here. And he was willing to do what he could to make sure he was able to rest safely. That meant getting this guy to allow him to sleep in that room, even if it was on the floor or something.

"Look, can I come in quickly? Please." He asked, glancing quickly down the hall to check if anyone else was there "Don't need you to be in a talking mood, but this is kind of important, alright? And you can go back to sleep and I won't bother you any longer."

He didn't mention that he'd be camping out in the room, because that was sure to make it so he wouldn't be let in to begin with. And that? That would fucking suck, considering the trouble had already gone through.

 

[SunOfTheStar]

Now, normally someone requesting to go into your room in the middle of the night was a really good thing, or something really bad. Either way, the thought didn't occur to him that he may be letting a creep in. His nature was simply like that, being trusting of others. It wouldn't be unlikely for him to trust a truck that said 'Free candy'. Who can say no to such an offer? It's free after all. Caspian blew a small raspberry, rubbing his temple. He could tell the tall weirdo was distressed, and leaving him like that went against his morals.

"Alright," He said, stepping aside from the door, "You can come in. Can't leave you in such a mess, eh? Just a few rules, please don't touch my stuff, please don't be loud, and puh-lease don't open the closet. Simple, right? I'm not gonna ask what you're doing if you follow them." His feet carried him back to his blanket haven, plopping into it face-first. Saying 'Don't open the closet' may sound like a phrase from a horror movie, though it only kept the abundance of sweets he brought. A few bags were definitely not enough to hold them all.

Unfortunately, after being mercilessly taken away from his slumber, it would not return so quickly. In simpler terms, he had to wait. And who did he have to thank for that! Bells would be ringing and arrows would be pointing dramatically at the stranger in his room. Luckily for them, he was too tired to argue about anything. Except, perhaps, the difference between chocolate chips and raisins. If there was one thing he didn't trust, it was people who favoured raisin over chocolate. Abominations, they were.

He enveloped himself in a fortress of blankets, rolling over to eye the other male with fatigued eyes. "Oh, and close the door behind you. There's some dark chocolate on the counter if you want it."

Did he expect that the other intended to stay for the entire night? No. Did he honestly care at the moment? Not at all. It was a miracle how he's survived thus far, letting anyone into the room with him. Whatever was causing the murders could probably just walk into the room and he'd serve them a cupcake before getting stabbed.

 

[TragicTrees]

Icarus made his way in as quickly as he could, shutting and locking the door tight behind him. He had no issues with following those directions. Leaving the door open, after all, would defeat the purpose of what he was doing, and the accomplishment of getting the room owner to let him in would be for nothing. He also wasn't a complete dick, and could at least do this for the person who was, probably unknowingly, letting him crash here.

"Thanks." He offered, after the chocolate statement, but made no move to take it "Sorry for waking you up." Lame, but honestly? It should be better than saying nothing. That was his personal opinion that the random person in this room may or may not share, but did it matter? Nope.

He found a nice place on the floor, far away from the bed, and laid down. Which, usually, would mean he was going to sleep. But that didn't end up working. Instead, he found himself staring up at the ceiling, counting the dots. After a bit of that, he sat up again, then got up, pacing softly where he was.

In the end, he ended up taking out a notepad, writing a quick message that said 'hey, roomcrasher here, my names Dave :) thanks for letting me stay. sorry about the trouble and for waking you up. :P I know people need their beauty sleep', before placing it on the counter and going back to his spot, sitting back down with a quiet sigh.

This was typical. He did all this work and he couldn't even sleep. It wasn't that fucking hard, was it? All sleeping was was closing his eyes and just....laying there. But for some reason, that was just too much to ask for, even with someone else in the room. He was that paranoid. He should've stayed in his own room.

Eventually, though, he did drift off, after 30 minutes. After he'd stopped worrying about someone breaking in and about the room owner yelling at him, it was easier to sleep. But that didn't mean it rested him up any. Nightmares were to be expected considering the current happenings.