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POSTED ON Feb 23, 2021 14:44:47 GMT

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WYNDON, GALAR[break]
^{three years ago}
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The rain pattering against the window panes made for a relaxing setting. The only thing that would have improved it would be a crackling fire. Alas as fine as the institution was, a fireplace in every classroom was a bit much to ask. While his classes were over for the day, Andy still had club activities to attend to, something he regretted at times.
[break][break]
Given that there was still close to an hour before the literature club was supposed to meet, the ten year old had found the room empty. Today they were to present in depth reviews on a Galarian literary classic of their choice. He had picked Bill Rattlepike again, having come to like the old poet and playwright despite how much his writing could struck at his soft points.
[break][break]
So, to scare the poignant flavor from his tongue, he searched around one of the two of the clubroom's bookcases for a comedy, something with plenty of snark. After selecting one of the works of Oskar Mild, he moved towards one of the sofas and daybeds the room was furnished with and, after shedding the jacket of his academy uniform to cast it haphazardly over its singular arm, stretched out across it before cracking the cover.
[break][break]
He had perhaps covered three sentences when he heard the door creak open.

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Rowan Wrynn

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POSTED ON Feb 26, 2021 5:15:54 GMT

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    A soft sigh escaped from Rowan’s lips as he looked out upon the weather, hoping the rain would have stopped by the time classes were over. Seemed as though plans to sneak in some training for his Pokémon would have to be held off for now, especially as he wasn’t going to be holding it in the rain. “Fantastic…” Rowan huffed slightly, pushing himself up from the bench he was seated on. At least there was something that he could preoccupy both his time and his mind with, greatly needed on a day like today. Each day that passed it became more and more difficult to pretend as though he was happy living the life he was, and some would even say he was doing it poorly. Rowan didn’t have the best disposition normally, but it had gotten worse recently as he grew closer to graduation, restlessness stirring inside of him that caused him to lash out at others callously. “Move!” He called out towards a group that was blocking the path in the hallway, brushing past them with a bit more force than was necessary but he was determined to get where he needed to go. Hushed voices behind him, likely speaking rumors or ill-will towards him, though he didn’t care what any of these other people said.

    He’d be gone before long, and none of their words would matter.

    Pulling open the door to the library, Rowan quickly noticed he was one of the first to arrive at the literary club, barring one exception. “Well, well, well…” He began with a smirk crawling over his lips, closing the door behind him and walking over to one of the shelves. “...Good to see you Blackadder, I was worried the height requirement might keep you out.” Amber eyes glanced over the titles on the shelves, trying to decide which one of these works he’d use to occupy his mind. A hand reached out towards the first one that caught his eyes, a series of works by Edward Allen Moe that were sure to satisfy the distraction and his sense of dismay with existence. “What are you reading anyways? A picture book?” It wasn’t anything the other boy had done to bother him, he just happened to be in the way of this misguided anger that welled inside of him. If he’d stopped to think about it for a moment, insulting a ten year old might have seemed a bit far, but he wasn’t about to indulge in any self-reflection anytime soon.

Andy Blackadder

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Little Bastard

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POSTED ON Feb 28, 2021 3:41:13 GMT

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It was Rowan. Andy had always considered him a walking advertisement for an attitude adjustment, which was damned odd coming from him. While the child could be barbed, the older student operated on a whole other level. His ire was constant, and his target was anyone in sight. Even Blackadder himself wasn't that deranged.
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''Filled the short quota, Wrynn. Just like you filled the obnoxious crotch jokey quota. Diversity is our strength and all.'' And all the while he never looked up from the book, or even smiled to himself. While normally doling out harshness to the deserved brought him joy, Rowan just made it so mundane. Although perhaps that was just because it was so often.
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What a chore.
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''Do you even listen to the fecal matter than sprays out of your face?'' A question for a question, and this time he looked up from the pages and craned his neck to peer over a shoulder. ''You cannot read a picture book. It doesn't contain any bloody words, you fucking slack-jawed troglodyte.'' Ah. There we were. That was getting the juices flowing. He couldn't resist pointing out stupidity.
[break][break]
It gave him life.

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Rowan Wrynn

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POSTED ON Mar 2, 2021 4:31:26 GMT

Andy Blackadder likes this

“Crotch Jockey? At least come up with something original, you little tosspot.” Rowan rolled his eyes at the juvenile insult as he crossed the room, as if he hadn’t been called that many times before due to his sexual orientation. Any sense of guilt he had for antagonizing a child slowly began to wane as he remembered exactly how much of a sultry asshole that Andrew Blackadder tended to be, managing to even rival his own ire towards others. Settling into his seat, he did his best to ignore the other boy until he managed another quip in his direction, though it wasn’t undeserved. “I honestly thought you wouldn’t know the difference. I doubt you’re even capable of reading, considering that extra chromosome you carry around with you.” Rowan smirked to himself as he cracked open the cover of his book, resting his elbow on the wooden surface of the table to begin skimming the words that littered the prologue. It was difficult to concentrate on the task at hand when all he wanted to do was train with his Pokemon, the last thing he wanted to do being delay his departure from Galar even further.

“I wish your mother would have swallowed you instead of being the accident that you are, maybe you would have been worth a damn as protein than a leech.” Flipping through the pages he found a dark enthusiasm in the words that had been structured by Edward Allen Moe, especially when it came to a specific raven and its iconic quote. “Why do you even bother coming around anyways? You know that people only tolerate you because you are an insufferable Blackwell.”

Andy Blackadder

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Sovetskii Soryuz

Little Bastard

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Fourteen

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Wyndon, Galar

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POSTED ON Mar 3, 2021 12:18:39 GMT

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''HoW oRigInAL,'' he mocked, ''As if any smooth brain can't hammer out that bland retort.'' Honestly the boy had forgotten all about Rowan's sexuality. People whispered about it, but all in all he could care less. His choice of words were based off the face that most people were just boring old heterosexuals ~~lol~~. None the less it seemed the elder pupil would attempt to step up his game.
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''Pretty hypocritical to bitch about unoriginality and hit back with that pedestrian trash. You see me reading a book, dick socket. Projecting on that extra chromosome shit, eh?'' Andy didn't have a lot of respect for... well, most people, and while it might be a little hypocritical on his own part, he found people who were so full of themselves they couldn't see past the end of their own nose to be the lowest of the low.
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Yet the older boy upped the ante and a smirk tugged at the corner of Andy's mouth.
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''Now that's more like it, but I would suppose you would know with as much protein as you guzzle. Doubtless a contributor to your scholastic progress. Unlike your talentless hag, my mother has an eye for quality. Shame, really. All the fine paper towels that money could buy and she couldn't be bothered to wipe you away.'' His chocolate eyes strolled back down to the page. ''Hopefully whoever's bumming you has more courtesy.''
[break][break]
He hadn't missed the slipup either.
[break][break]
''Is it Blackwell? Is that why you have him on your mind?''

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Rowan Wrynn

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POSTED ON Mar 7, 2021 1:18:43 GMT

    Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle when the weak retort was lobbed at him by the underclassman, leaning back in his chair and peering over his shoulder to get a better look at the dredge he was dealing with. “You couldn’t come up with anything fresh so you had to deflect my own chromosome comment? Unsurprising that you’d give an effort just as limp as your dick, after all.” While it may have been hypocritical on his part, he absolutely despised the upper percent of society that rode on the accomplishments of their family. Without a doubt this meant he hated himself as well, but at least he had a plan to get out from under the oppressive boot that his parents had him under. Andrew Blackadder seemed perfectly content being a snotty little shit that could simply throw around his name and get whatever he wanted, as if anyone could ever find that anything more than disgusting.

    “Oh yes, your mother. How could I be so quick to forget her wonderful eye for quality? After all, she had quite the talent for find just the right person to fuck her into a position of wealth. I’d say it was more a matter of persistence though, all those years on her back.” Rowan offered a shrug and turned back to his book, flipping over the page despite not having bothered to read the contents. This bout was far more interesting than anything Edward Allen Moe could offer him, and as long as Blackadder was going to keep laying back and taking it, much like his mother, then perhaps this would be a good use of time after all.

    “Hmm, what's that?” It seemed as though what Andrew thought was a slip-up went exactly as he planned, glad that the boy had lobbed him his own set-up with such ease. “My apologies, Blackadder. Your family is so unimportant, undesirable and uncouth that I simply couldn’t be bothered to remember the name.” Pleased with himself, Rowan crossed his arms and looked out towards the rain that pattered against the windows. “Besides, at least I could get someone to fuck me. Unlike you, who is likely to die a sorry virgin as the miserable inbred cockroach that you are. Unless you have a sibling, then it's possible you have a chance.”

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Little Bastard

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Fourteen

June 6th

Wyndon, Galar

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POSTED ON Mar 8, 2021 1:59:19 GMT

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''Aren't you just repeating the same thing? Pretend all you like Wrynn, you're a puddle masquerading as an ocean. And I don't walk around cramming mine into everything unlike your unscrupulous ass. It doesn't matter how many you bed. You won't be any less vacuous.'' This was why he always grew bored of Rowan. He found he just rehashed the same thing over and over.
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''Must be getting my blood confused with your deficient lineage. My mother was the source of the wealth and prestige in the marriage. And you should be thankful she's so open minded. Who would pleasure your mother then? Or is that what drove you to other men?'' Andy smirked, finding no shame in it. While he wasn't the biggest fan of his mom, he was less of a fan of Rowan. He could make an exception to white knight her now.
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His father though... that would be a tough call.
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''Go on then. Contradict what you just said to scrape up another insult. Make yourself feel like there's anything other than an abyss bursting of loathing within you.'' The boy found his own virginity a strange attack vector given their difference in age, but perhaps Rowan was that desperate, or that depraved. Either way, he sallied fourth, unphased.
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''Is that what you tell yourself to excuse acting like a harlot?'' He shook his head with what looked like genuine disgust. ''All those dicks don't fill up anything in you do they? That's why you keep looking for another, desperate for some reason to live up all that superiority horsea shit you're spewing. You don't sound like you believe it, and that's why no one else does.
[break][break]
If Rowan hated him so much, why was he here? Why didn't he leave or tell Andy to leave?
[break][break]
He wants this. The Blackadder boy concluded to himself. ''You feeling like you matter yet, Row? You came here and stayed for a fight. Is it giving you the warm and fuzzies? Better than being with another guy? It doesn't matter what manner of half hearted deflection or accusation of audacity you're destined to fling, I can see right through it.'' His smirk widened to Giratinic levels.
[break][break]
''You're welcome Wrynn.''

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Rowan Wrynn

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POSTED ON Mar 8, 2021 3:07:13 GMT

Andy Blackadder likes this

It wasn’t hard for Rowan to let the juvenile insults roll off his back as though each one were a bead of water, especially since they were either entirely unfounded or pointed towards people he cared very little for. He’d never so much as kissed someone before, therefore any jabs towards promiscuity were nothing more than an unfounded attempt to drag his reputation down further than it already had been by his own actions. Any mention of his mother was equally unphasing, despising both of his parents for being so heavy handed and overbearing as to make him hate his own existence, desperately searching and scraping for a way out any way that he possibly could. This was nothing more than a game to Rowan, something to occupy his time and his mind until the rain passed and progression towards his goals could continue once more. Of course, that was until Andrew Blackadder happened to hit a nerve that he possibly couldn’t have expected or anticipated coming from the underclassman.

“Excuse me?” What was at first disbelief that the words of the ten year old actually struck home quickly turned into anger, replacing any look of mischief or joviality on his face with the same scowl he was reserved only for those that he truly hated. Rowan didn’t think he was better than anyone else, he knew that he was better than all of these putrid excuses for human beings that loved to suck on the silver spoon in their mouths. There was no one to fool because he was superior to all of them, and Blackadder was no exception to this rule. How dare he insinuate that he was anything less?! What right did that insignificant cockroach have to suggest such a thing?!

WHO DID HE THINK HE WAS?!

Getting Rowan to lose his composure wasn’t an easy task, but it was one that could be accomplished by striking at the one thing that he valued above all else: his pride. Slamming the book in front of him shut, he picked it up and quickly advanced across the room towards the underclassman with only one goal in mind. Once he was close enough, he’d raise the hefty book into the air and attempt to slam it down across the head of Andrew Blackadder, without any care of the consequences that may come from doing so. “Fucking piece of shit! I'm better than all of you!”

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Little Bastard

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Fourteen

June 6th

Wyndon, Galar

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POSTED ON Mar 11, 2021 13:29:04 GMT

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Oh! That's a bingo! The lack of smarmy snark and tinge of shock betrayed Rowan. His words had found their mark. The older boy was floored. That is, until he stood up. Andy could read the vibes. It wasn't the first time he had talked his way into blows. Even as young as he was, the boy had already been blasted in the face a few times. Perhaps if he had time to ruminate, he would admit that casting such aspersions without the presence of staff or peers may have been a mistake.
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Alas, he could only think that it further enhanced his boldness.
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While a million more things popped into his head to spew at the upperclassman, he was more concerned with the coming assault. Raising his own book on high, Andy sought to deflect the blow. Not really having time for consideration, he didn't bother to close the cover thus denying a rigidity needed to fend off a closed tome. Edgar Allan Moe would defeat Bill Rattlepike and the open literature would give way right into the child's face. The force easily busted his nose and painted both the pages and his boyish features with blood.
[break][break]
Reflexively, Andy kicked at his attacker as the blow was struck, but given their difference in height and his inability to properly aim his retaliation, it could land anywhere from Rowan's crotch to his sternum. Mostly it was meant to shove the other boy away, but whatever worked to prevent this from becoming some manner of lunacy fueled lynching. In the back of his mind it occurred to him that Rowan really was a narcissist. His ego was all he had, and nothing else. It was pitiful, or it would be if he wasn't currently getting clobbered.

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Rowan Wrynn

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POSTED ON Mar 16, 2021 3:30:03 GMT

    Rowan could only hear the sounds of his heart beating as flecks of blood splashed against the skin of his face, feeling as though time slowed down for a moment as he watched the book smash into the face of Andrew Blackadder. Satisfying as it was to watch them drop towards the ground with blood streaming from their nose, it didn’t take long for him to realize that harming the other student wasn’t going to make him feel any better. Pressure immediately struck him in the abdomen as Andy kicked towards their attacker, stepping backwards in a doubled over coil away from the flailing leg. “Fucking...stupid....asshole.” Rowan said between ragged coughs, a reflexive reaction from being struck in the stomach. Despite finding no emotional merit in his actions, he knew that going back now wasn’t an option, the die had been cast and consequences would be suffered either way.

    “I’m going to be better than anyone at this school, especially you, Blackadder. I won’t be wasting my life the same as you lot, suckling on the tits of mother and father until the inheritance runs out.” Rowan stepped over towards Andy once more, finally able to catch his breath for more than a few seconds, not willing to back down so easily from having his pride called into question. A hand reached out towards the underclassman, attempting to grab them by the collar of their shirt and pull them in closer. “You’re lucky I don’t break more than your bleeding nose for being such an annoying little shit.” Being this close would have given Andy the perfect opportunity to strike back against him, being exactly what Rowan wanted and expected. If anyone was going to believe this was a mutual exchange of blows, he’d have to get roughed up a bit more than a bruise to the stomach. “Not that anyone would care if I did.”

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Little Bastard

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Fourteen

June 6th

Wyndon, Galar

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POSTED ON Mar 23, 2021 13:38:38 GMT

Rowan Wrynn likes this

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''Prove it.'' The syllables prompted bloody spital to fly from his lips where the life force oozed from his nose. Given the other boy's proximity, perhaps some would even dirty his uniform. Rowan had closed the distance to grasp his collar and threatened further harm. It wouldn't matter of course. Blackadders were a remarkably stubborn bunch, and Andy would disparage anyone until he was physically unable to, rather unconscious or dead.
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Wounds of the flesh could heal, wounds upon pride tended to be much more permanent.
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''You must think that breaks my heart.'' He smirked, blood running in between his teeth for a gruesome visage. ''I'm exactly where I intend to be, fuckstain. Are you? None of my blood will grant you freedom from anything. It won't even fill any holes in you.'' The upperclassman would get his wish if Andy had had a few moments longer to throw his head back and then forward in a headbutt; provide his tormentor with a matching wound.
[break][break]
Instead the door to the club room was opened and a few other members swept in. Laura Headley was first, as always. As the Literature Club's president she made sure that no one forgot her position, even if they weren't a member themselves. A freakishly tall girl, her height lended to her making something even as mundane as reading into an elitest pastime. Behind her was Miranda Marsh, the dark haired, freckled, bespectacled vice president and walking definition of 'kiss ass.'
[break][break]
The third was a blond, wavy haired Kalosian exchange student who was probably the worst read of any in the club. Henri La Clereux's presence there was solely for the purpose of attempting to bed the first two girls. His duel membership in the Math Club and affinity for numbers, as well as being an enthralled brown noser himself, granted him the position of club secretary. While perhaps the room's two previous occupants wouldn't catch their prattle, it wouldn't matter, as it halted at the sight of the altercation.
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''What in Arceus' name! If you two pedestrian beggers want to tussle join the bloody boxing club!'' Headley sat her hands on her hips as she scolded the two. ''There's no place for rapscallions with a love for fisticuffs,'' Marsh added in agreement. ''Do you want me to throw then out?,'' Henri offered. Before the president could give a decisive answer however, she noticed the discarded books upon the floor and a look of both shock and disgust creased her features.
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The staccato racket of her heels closed the distance between the two.
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''Such disregard for the classics over something petty no doubt.'' Pushing the two aside, she lifted the books up before letting out a gasp and dropping the blood stained tome. Marsh stepped around to get side to see what had startled her superior and covered her mouth in shock. The president glanced at Andy and his bloodied nose, then to Rowan. ''You fools. Do you see the blood on this page? It's ruined! Ruined I tell you!'' Marsh uncovered her mouth to observe the damage.
[break][break]
''That's a second edition leatherbound hardback... The pages were vellum... Probably two centuries old. It's...'' It was if she was unable to continue, but even a dunce could see she was playing it up. The door had been left open on purpose. ''Irreplaceable.'' Standing to her full height to tower over the two boys, she looked down her nose at Wrynn. ''What possible excuse could you have for this?'' Her hiss was as foul as any ekans. ''You can thrash Blackadder however it pleases you, but not with my books.''

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Rowan Wrynn

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Wyndon, Galar

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POSTED ON Apr 22, 2021 2:36:04 GMT

    Rowan could see the attack coming in the eyes of Andy Blackadder, about to provide him the exact evidence he needed to prove this was a mutual occurrence, when the door unceremoniously swung open on the other end of the room. “Shit.” The curse was muttered underneath his breath, releasing the grip on their collar with a hard shove towards the linoleum floor. “None of your bloody business, you twats.” Straightening himself up, Rowan adjusted his jacket and stepped away from the fallen form of his victim with a grimace plastered on his face.

    “I don’t need to explain myself to you lot.” Although he didn’t consider these people even close to the same level as him, he would have explained the altercation if he knew exactly how to express the feelings that welled up within him, falling back on his usual vitriol instead. “Anything else?” Assuming no one attempted to stop Rowan, he’d make for the doorway with the intention of leaving as soon as possible, keeping his eyes averted from Andy the entire time.

     “I'm sorry Blackadder.” This was what he wished he could say, but the words wouldn’t come to him as he glanced back towards the room once more from the entrance. Wordlessly, he departed down the hallway with a brisk pace, ducking into one of the utility closets along the way, desperate for a moment of privacy. The dingy room wasn’t ideal, but Rowan found himself fixated on his appearance in the mirror above the utility sink, flecks of blood having dried on his face already. “Fuck!” Glass shattered as his fist impacted the reflective surface, cutting deep into his knuckles and spilling droplets of crimson into the basin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Tears were streaming freely down his cheeks, fed up with feeling so helpless and futile in this life. Wishing that he didn’t have to lash out at others for a modicum of relief from his misery. Wishing to finally be free.

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Sovetskii Soryuz

Little Bastard

He/Him

Fourteen

June 6th

Wyndon, Galar

Homosexual

Trainer

Ace Trainer

170 height

Gonna dig this hole until I fall in. Until there is no end. Until there is no anything.

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