Who: Isaiah Deaver and Griffith Lloyd When: Later afternoon Where: Library. What: Sometimes, Isaiah just can't resist being a bully.
Isaiah had been in a very good mood recently. Work was actually fun, he was quite the darling with some of the more regular costumers, though not with his co-workers. Isaiah could still be caught reading on the job and still wasn't in the habit of shelving books. But his supervisor liked him well enough and Isaiah knew how to play up to that. Maybe he'd make it a sport to see how many idiotic co-workers he could win over as well.
Today, after classes, he was in the library. There were a few books that he needed to check. He wanted to take a look see and make sure that they were worth ordering for the store. And that was when he spotted a small hunched over figure sitting in one of the sofas. It took Isaiah a full minute to recongize the boy. Oh...it was that person who had been sitting with Jeremy sometime ago. The freashie or something. Isaiah always took the term freashie to mean freash meat. He grinned something inside him rearing up it's ugly head.
"Hey!" Isaiah said as he walked up. "What are you doing." He meant to intimidate the boy and then frowned when Griffith did not look up. He just continued to write. Scribble, scribble scribble on his notebook. Isaiah noticed that the ink of his pen was running out.
"Hey..." He said again, not liking to be ignored. Leaning foward, Isaiah saw that Griffith's eyes weren't really focused on what he was writing. It was trained on the whole page in general and had a distant look in them. The other boy's face was also slack, his mouth hanging slightly open. It was all very weird.
Looking down at the notebook, he tried to figure out what Griffith was writing. But the pen had ran out of ink and he had to start for the beginning right. Grasping the notebook, Isaiah gave a sharp tug and quickly took a step back as Griffith fell off his seat and onto his hands and knees. The boy continued to write, his empty pen scratching away words on the carpet. Good thing the pen was dried up and it was a dark carpet. But then again Isaiah wasn't worried about that. He was too busy grinning at the funny sight Griffith made as he mindlessly wrote away.
That grin grew wider as he leafed through the notebook. One story in particular catching his eye.
When the trance ended and Griffith came too, he wondered where his notebook was. And why his shoulders were aching. And why he wasn't sitting upright anymore. Blinking he pushed himself slowly into a sitting position and blinked stupidly at the sight of Isaiah. He watched as the older boy smiled and paled when Isaiah drawled.
"Jeremy McKay brushing his teeth...How quaint. I doubt you have plans. But make yourself free today."