[Fri Dec 8 2017]
In The Blackfield Institute Cafeteria The cafeteria is a large, open area filled with enough tables to seat a majority of the College, Academy, and staff at the same time. The cafeteria is set up with industrial sized buffet-style counters where visitors can pick and choose from a dizzying array of meal options.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
Shilo sees Lysander and quickens his pace to catch up. "Lysander!" he calls, slipping his arm through the blond's elbow. "Are you going to the cafeteria too?"
Lysander glances down at the shorter teen, grinning slightly and hooking Shilo's arm comfortably. Just as he's about to reply, his stomach lets out an audible rumble. "Yeah, looks like it," he laughs. "I haven't eaten there yet, so I'm hoping its good."
He chuckles and gives Lysander's belly a friendly pat. "It'll be the first time for both of us, then." Shilo cuddles a little closer, obstensibly for warmth. "Did you find some trouble to get in to yesterday?"
"I'm not going to lie, Shi," he starts, drawing him over towards one of the buffet counters so he can look over the food. "I'm craving so many carbs right now." Lysander shakes his head, using his free arm to pick up a tray and push one along to Shilo. "I met a high-school guy. He took Soph's hand and made her touch his scarred neck. Kind of bolted at that very weird point," he admits, wrinkling his nose at the memory.
The cafeteria is jam-packed with faculty and students, all of whom seem to have had the same idea about grabbing lunch at around the same time. The line is long, but moving quickly, as patrons load their trays with whatever they'd like from a seemingly endless array of choices. "Oh, excuse me," comes an oily voice from just behind Lysander as the owner of said voice bumps into him. The young man is dressed like a librarian-in-training, with a dingy brown cardigan, pressed slacks, and a center part in his hair that looks to have been razored into place. "Didn't see you there," he claims, his voice amicable enough, but when he scoots around the pair, he mutters under his breath, "Filthy fae-born filth. You'll get yours," before disappearing into the crowd.
Shilo frees his arm from Lysander's and takes the tray, looking over the array of food and nibbling his bottom lip. "Carbs are bad," he muses, then grins impishly and takes a large chocolate chip muffin. "Don't tell anyone." Before he can say anything else, Lysander is rudely bumped into and Shilo shoots the stranger an annoyed look. "I guess I would be an ass too if I was dressed like my mother chose my clothes. What was he muttering?"
"I won't. That looks real good, so-" Lysander finds himself cut off as he's bumped a step or two forwards, turning to look at the man. "No problem," he says politely, "accidents happen." He turns back to Shilo then tenses at the indiscernable muttering, a deep frown crossing his features. "I'm not sure. Nothing good," he says, then takes one of the muffins and puts it on his tray. "He probably just wondered whether we wanted to buy the oil clinging to his head."
He frowns for a second or two, then shrugs carelessly. "Well, whatever. Doesn't matter." Shilo nudges the taller male further down the line, so he could add some fresh fruit to his tray as well. "So, some creepy high school kid made Soph touch his scarred neck? This town is so weird. Dorian took me to the Lodge, then this girl Cici's dorm. I passed out after eating half a cookie."
Lysander lets himself be pushed down, hesitating, then grumbling as he chose some fresh salmon and a few bits of green to 'make up' for the muffin, along with a bottle of water. "It really is," he agrees, chuckling. "Are you sure they didn't spike the cookie? Seems like something Dorian would do," he says, joking in his tone. "Then again, if you woke up with your hair unshaved, you probably got lucky."
Shilo also took a bottle of water, and once Lysander was finished, picked up the tray and carried it over to the counter to pay before leading the way over to a table. "Both Cici and Dorian says the cookie wasn't spiked, I'm not so sure." He pinches a bit of the muffin off the top and pops it into his mouth, giving Lysander a dark look. "If anyone shaved my hair I'd glue their pubes to their face."
He carefully balances the tray in one hand, swiping his card with the other and following him. "No trust for them, huh," he laughs, settling down across from Shilo and opening his water. Lysander takes a sip, lips curling in amusement. "Wouldn't that require you shaving their pubes in response?"
"I'm not scared of a dick or two," he says with a smirk. "Or pussy." Shilo touches his thick chestnut curls. "It takes a lot of work keeping it looking this good." He takes another bite of muffin and frowns into the distance, where the oily man had wandered off. "I thought I heard that guy mutter something about fae-born... There's no way he could know, right?"
Lunch continues on without further incident - for a while. But soon, it becomes apparent that the suspicious individual from earlier isn't done with the pair yet. Creeping up behind Lysander a camera appears in his hand as he snaps a picture of Shilo the flash obnoxiously bright. 'That's one,' he says, ducking under someone's tray to escape into the crowd once more. 'Hey!' someone complains, reaching out to grab him, but he moves quite nimbly for such an odd looking boy, and he cries out, 'You won't catch me! I'll expose them all before I let you catch me! Lysander and Sofia, Dorian and Malcolm - I've almost got all the proof I need!' and so said, he disappears into the crowd once more, the sound of his laughter fading into the general mayhem of the cafeteria.
"There's no way," Lysander agrees, slicing into his pale pink fish and spearing a chunk, beginning to eat. He's quiet for a little while he does so, chewing thoughtfully. His expression contorts into surprise and then anger as he sees light flash across Shilo's face, almost scattering his fork across the table in his haste to get up from his seat and confront the man. "Hey, asshole," he snaps, searching the crowd. The names make him tense and he starts to push his way through the people around, before he hesitates and moves back to Shilo. "Okay, that's weird, right? How the bloody hell did he know our names? And Professor Thorne's?" His accent becomes more pronounced, visibly stressed out. "Proof for what?" He's shifting, clearly wanted to try and find him, but not wanting to leave Shilo, especially after the previous night.
Shilo just starts to look up when at the stranger's appearance when a camera flash blinds him. He drops the bit of strawberry he had been about to eat and rubs his eyes with a curse. By the time Lysander returns he has recovered, but looks worried. "And 'that's one'? What did he mean by that?" He looks at his food, appetite suddenly gone, and shivers despite the thick coat. "Lets get out of here. We've got to find that guy and get his camera."
Lysander agrees easily and moves around to just lightly grasp Shilo's wrist, squeezing it in a comforting manner then releasing. "I don't know. But let's go find him, and I'll make him answer," he said, voice uncharacteristically hard for a brief moment, before he starts to make his way through the chattering people, eyes continuously glancing back to check Shilo was there, and forwards to search for the man. His tray was abandoned, muffin forlorn.
He stands up and follows Lysander, leaving his tray forgotten on the table. He follows close behind the blond, scanning the edges of the cafeteria for signs of the oily man. "Have you ever even yelled at someone?" Shilo asks, trying to sound playful but coming out more stressed.
He slows down when he hears the edge to Shilo's voice, shifting slightly to let his forearm bump against his as they walk. "The butler was being a little arsey one morning," he confides, lip curling up halfway. "I kid. Erm, a few times?" Lysander murmurs an apology to someone he pushes past.
After a few moments of scanning the cafeteria, it's Shilo that spots the guy ducking through a back exit, toward the stairs marked Fire Exit Only.
Shilo rolls his eyes, but does give Lysander a little smile. "You're so tall but you're just a teddy bear." Shilo ignores anyone he runs into or pushes past, eyes still moving restlessly. "He can't have gotten out of-- There!" He nearly smacks a passing blond girl in the face as he points towards the back door. "Come on!" He pushes his way through the crowd ahead of Lysander.
Lysander can't help but apologise to the enraged looking lass as they pass, following him quickly. "Careful, Shi!" he blurts out, hot on his heels as they move through the door, slamming it against the wall in their haste.
The fleeing photographer is hastily stuffing his camera into an old-fashioned backpack as he runs down the stairs two at a time. He trips, crying out as a scattering of photographs flutter from his bag, and he pauses only briefly to stuff a few of them back inside, but he continues to run, his head-start keeping him just out of the grasp of those pursuing him. 'Your kind think you're so special,' he spits over his shoulder. 'Just wait until you're all exposed! You'll be locked away forever, experimented on, your secrets laid bare to the world!' he monologues like a villian from a bad movie, but the photographs he's left behind are damning - there are pictures of the recent transfers, of strange creatures in the forest. Pictures of Haven as if taken through a fun house mirror. Individually, each one is sensational, but all together, they paint a fairly convincing portrayal of the existence of the supernatural.
Shilo ignores Lysander as he bursts through the door. He hears a cry from further down the stairs and darts that way. The patter of fleeing footsteps and a scatter of photographs was the only evidence the man had been here. He shouts something angrily in French and kneels down to gather up the photos: pictures of himself and his friends, creatures out of macabre storybooks. "Shit," he mutters, and shows the pictures to Lysander when he arrives. His delicate face is serious. "Look at these. How does he have all these pictures? Of us, and... shit Lys."
He skids to a stop but only briefly, looking at the photographs. "Make sure none are left behind," Lysander instructs, voice hard, before his long legs propel him forwards again. He's more intent now, hoping Shilo will follow as quickly as possible. He has to choose a direction before long, which stops him again. "Shit," he swears lowly, glancing behind him for Shilo. "I don't know which way he went," he tells him in frustration.
He quickly stuffs all the photos in his backpack before following Lysander, though they didn't get very far. Shilo stops on the step above him and scowls. "I don't know. I think maybe I heard a door opening. He was just shouting about how we'll all be exposed and experimented on like some terrible Bond villain."
On the back of one of the photographs is an address in nearby Boston, Massachusetts. The picture itself is a grainy black and white photograph of a shipping warehouse, the only thing extraordinary about it is nothing - that is, a spot of nothingness near the entrance to the warehouse, a round, shimmering nothingness that to the eye resembles nothing quite so much as a portal. A portal to or from where is anyone's guess, but the address is on Fargo Street. Another photograph, taken in the same area judging by the backgrounds of both images, depicts a girl of about seventeen, her blonde hair in a ponytail and eyes filled with fright. Her mouth and hands are bound, and she's in the middle of being carried into the back of an unmarked van, the license plate obscured by bad lighting or some other ill luck.
Lysander curses, then turns to Shilo. "Let's look at the photographs. Maybe he's the type of idiot creep," he suggests. He takes half and flicks through, pausing when he came to one with a lass on it. "Shilo.." he murmurs softly, showing him it. He doesn't know where it is, though. "Have a look through the rest. See if we can figure out where this was taken," he says, starting to flick through again, the one with the girl kept to one side.
Shilo nods at the blond's suggestion and pulls the photos from his backpack. He looks slowly through his stack, not recognizing anything, but pauses on one picture of a warehouse. He looks at the photo Lysander shows him and frowns deeply. "Damn license plate is covered up," he mutters. "I wonder if she's reported missing. Here, look at this." When he holds the picture out for Lysander to see, he spots the address on the back. "Look! An address. In Boston. It looks like its the same place with the girl."
Lysander looks more than worried, fingers brushing across the photograph. He's barely had chance to look at the photograph before Shilo announces his findings, and he brightens a little, as much as one can in this situation. "We can catch the bus out there," he says, then pauses. "I don't know what will be out there, Shi. Maybe you should go tell Dorian or Basilio, get the others and meet me there." Lysander shifts; he can't delay now they know where the address is.
Shilo turns the photograph back over and stares at the circular nothingness near the entrance of the warehouse. "That looks like a portal," he murmured. "But to where? And how does some oily creep know about all this?" All questions being rhetorical, he doesn't expect an answer and returns the photos to his backpack. Grave hazel eyes meet Lysander's. "I have Dorian and Sofia's number, I'll tell them. We should get whoever is willing to go with us." Shilo squeezes the blond's forearm. "I'm glad you were around to chase bad guys with me. Text the others."
Lysander nods softly. "I didn't really expect you to just let me go, but I had to try. You're so small," he says, laughing uneasily. He scans the photographs again, especially the two that they'd found matched up. "Yeah. You're right. More is better." Lysander bumps Shilo, then pulls out his phone. "I hope the lass is okay."
While the pair are making their plans, a new pair arrive on the scene - two Blackfield Institute security guards. Along with them is one of the cafeteria ladies. 'There they are!' she says, pointing to Lysander and Shilo 'They were pushing and shoving the students and then they came back here, I just knew they were up to no good!' The first security guard, whose name badge reads Officer Lance Brown, frowns as he heads toward Shilo and Lysander 'You two new around here? Can't you read?' he asks, pointing up at the door clearly marked Fire Exit Only. 'Since you can't seem to act like adults, let's see if you can act like children. Detention, the both of you, at the Academy, right now. Move it.' And just like that, the plans of the two are waylaid for the time being, as they're both forced to spend the rest of the afternoon in detention with High School delinquents.