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⦇Chase Tylor and Will Churchill's Dorm⦈
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cecilia
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Aug 27, 2013 04:33PM
Will slid his key into the lock, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open. Will wasn't exactly sure what he'd find inside, though he knew he should be. This was his fourth and final year here, so he should be able to expect what would come next, right? Well, being the creative person that he was, Will wasn't the best at sticking to reality, and realistic things when he wasn't writing. Pushing all doubts aside, he stepped into the dorm, which looked the same as last year's. Home sweet home.
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Chase: I slide the key into the room, and enter to find that my roomate was already there. "Hey, mate." I say, smiling. I drop my stuff on one side. "I'm Chase." I offer him a hand.
Will had been putting his books away on a shelf--even though there was a library, Will would never consider anything home without his books--when he heard the door open. He'd become so accustomed to this process over the years; opening doors, meeting roommates, packing and unpacking, that it was all routine. He set his last book on the shelf before turning to eye the person he'd be rooming with for the school year. Shaking his hand--Chase, was it?--Will offered a lopsided grin. "I'm Will," he offered.
Chase: "Hi Will." I say with a smile. "Nice to meet you." I survey the place, and drop my stuff onto one side of the room. "Nice place, isn't it?"
Will shrugged, kicking off his shoes, letting them fall into his closet on the floor, somehow landing right where he wanted them too. "It's a nice place," he agreed, thankful he didn't smell smoke on this guy. If there had been smoke, this would be a very long, and potentially deadly, year. "I guess it kinda has to be, considering we're living here all year..."
Chase: I laugh. "Fair enough. I'm just glad to get away for a while." I plop on the bed as well. "So what're you here for? As in your major?" I ask curiously, while pulling stuff out of my suitcase.
"Getting away," Will agreed. Honestly, he loved his aunt, and she'd been nothing but good to him, but sometimes he couldn't stand her. Even though she'd put up with endless crap from Will, he was sick of being watched over. Thankfully, he was eighteen, so he supposed he could move out of her house whenever he liked, but Will couldn't do that to his aunt just yet. She had done too much for him for Will to just do that. He'd have to wait a while, and Will figured he could stand his aunt a few more years. After all, she wasn't that bad... "Creative writing. I'm a novelist," he stated, stuffing some clothes in a drawer. "Published and everything. You?"
Chase: "Really? Cool." He was published? I wonder if I've seen some of his work before. "I'm a dancer. You don't get these babies from nothing." I joke, flexing my muscular arms, before returning to unpacking. Iwas in an excellent mood. Any day without my father and gold digger mother was a good day for me.
Will couldn't help but grin, tossing a few shirts in a drawer, and just barely making it, before sliding it shut as he passed by with his last few books, these ones the couple that he'd written himself. He carefully dusted off the covers with his hands, making sure they hadn't been damaged in the move, before setting them in a small stack on his shelf, smiling faintly. Will almost never laughed; it was too hard on his lungs, but smiling was something he did very well. Smiles were things that he pulled off perfectly, the kind that girls would fall for in a heartbeat. Of course, Will never--almost, at least--used that grin of his to get a girl. "I guess you're right," he agreed, grinning. "Muscles like that don't come outta nowhere."
Chase: I laugh, tossing a few books and writing utensils onto the desk by the bed. "So you're a noevlist, eh?" I ask while sorting out a few electronic and wire problems. "Anything I'd know of?"
Will mindlessly untangled the cords on his headphones, tossing them on the bed right before his phone followed, which he moved to plug in. "You can tell me," he shrugged, gesturing to the pile of three books sitting on the desk. "If you've heard of those, I guess so. If not, oh well." Will wasn't one of those authors who hated when people hadn't read something he'd written, he just let everything go. Not everyone was going to read anything, and he knew there were much better books out there than his.
Chase: "Before I read the titles, I'll tell you first off. I'm not the biggest reader, no offence or anything. I've got a busy schedule." I warn, before looking at the titles and sighing. "No, sorry. Haven't seen them. But can I give them a read some time soon?"
Will shrugged. "I'm not offended when people haven't read them," he said honestly, taking a long moment to sit down and let his breathing relax again before speaking. It was hard for Will to speak for long times, because of his lungs. "Though I will admit it's nice feeling when people have. If you're interested, feel free to borrow them. If not, it's no big deal, right?" Will smiled amiably, stretching out on his bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to relax slightly, so maybe his every breath wouldn't be a challenge.
Chase: I grin. "Thanks, man. I'll look at them later on. You seem pretty cool." I sit down back on my bed. "Are you okay?" I say, noticing his strange breathing.
Will didn't answer for a few moments, just taking shaky breaths and closing his eyes, waiting. After three minutes and fifteen seconds, Will could talk again, with only slight difficulty. "Yeah, I'm fine," he promised, picking up his backpack and rummaging through it for his pills. They were one of the few cases in which anyone was allowed to carry medicines around campus, and then only because without them, bad things were likely to happen. Will swallowed one of them before setting them on the table next to his bed, sighing softly. "I'm fine. Just... Nevermind."
Chase: I frown, studying him ."Do you need water or something? God... Are you okay?" I rush to get some water. What was wrong?
Will shook his head, leaning back against one of his posterless walls. "I'm fine," he promised, trying to figure out how to say this in as few words as possible. Will loved to say things, but the fact that his lungs wouldn't allow it was why he wrote so much. When he wrote, Will could say anything he liked and it wouldn't matter. His lungs would always be able to stand that. "I've just got... lung issues." That was the truth, though not the whole thing, so Will settled for that.
Chase: "Oh.' I say, my eyes widening. "Oh. I'm sorry, are you okay and everything? DO you still need that water?" I say, concerned. What sort of lung issues? It can't be too serious.. right?(I gtg for a while.. sorry. Brb!))
Will shrugged, shaking his head after a moment. "I'm fine, don't worry," he promised, leaning his head back against the wall. Will was fine, by his standards. He was alive, conscious, and breathing, which was good enough for him. "It's nothing new, and if I lived with it the last eighteen years, I'll survive." He offered Chase a halfhearted, lopsided grin.((aww, okay))
Chase: "Oh...that sucks. What is it? Isnt there some sort of treatment?" I ask as I sit back down, eyes still full of worry. I hope I wont have to call an ambulance anytime too soon.
"If there is, it sure as hell hasn't been discovered yet," Will grumbled, stretching out on the bed and closing his eyes. "It's all my mom's fault..." this last statement had been to himself, though he wouldn't be surprised if Chase had heard him. Honestly, Will wasn't all that worried about his condition. Sure, he didn't have long to life, if the doctors were right, but he was eighteen and he'd already published three books, that was a decent life, right? Will didn't quite care, if he was honest. He'd lived enough of his life to be fine with whatever end he may meet, though he hoped it wasn't soon.
Chase: "Oh...I'm sorry." I say, with a concerned look. I heard his second comment, but I had a feeling it wouldnt be fun for him to talk about, so I let it go. "You sure about my water offer?"
"Don't be sorry," Will said firmly, propping himself up on his elbows and opening his eyes. "There's nothing to be sorry for, I'm perfectly fine. I'm not going to die on your, or anything." Though that was a possibility, Will certainly wasn't going to say that. It was highly unlikely at the moment; Will had had much worse attacks and made it through without a hospital, he could do the same now. "I'm sure, don't worry."
Chase: I give a weak laugh. "Okay, I trust you on that." I joke lamely. I lamely try to change the topic. "So what kind of stuff do you like to write about?"
((Sorry, went to sneak food XD))"You'd better," Will said with a faint smile, sitting up, entirely back to normal now. That was what his attacks were like, gone in the blink of an eye. Though the ones that were quick as a viper, the ones that lasted only a few moments were the ones that always ended worse, which was why the short length of this attack worried him. The fact that he was fine now was reassuring, but what about next time he had an attack? Would things be fine, then? Will sighed softly and pushed those thoughts out of his mind. "I write lots of things. Usually I stick to dystopian stuff, though. I've got quite an imagination," he pointed out, his british accent clear.
((lol I do that all the time))Chase: I grin. "That's pretty cool." It's funny, since I happen to have an Australian accent. "I like reading dystopian stuff. It's been pretty popular this year."
((I gtg, sorry :( We'll continue tommorow! Gnight!))
Will nodded in agreement, continuing to unpack his clothes. Now that his attack was over, he was free to do whatever he wanted, really. Since his breathing was regular, it wasn't likely he'd pass out anytime soon. Will wasn't worried about it, honestly. If something started bothering him, he'd lie down, simple as that. "It's pretty popular, yeah," he agreed, raking his fingers through his hair.
Chase: I nod, starting to pull out a couple shoes of mine and putting them out properly. "It's funny. Are you from England?" I ask curiously.
Will mindlessly straightened a few of the pencils sitting on his desk, his eyes darkening, though Chase wouldn't have seen it. "Yeah, I'm from England. Once upon a long time ago, I lived there." Back when his mother had been a drug addict, his father abusive. Despite the fact that Will loved England, he hated all memories he had of the place.
Chase: "Cool." I say, nodding. "I'm from Australia. Born an Aussie." I shrug, hoping he wouldn't expect me to have a pet koala bear now or anything.
"Is it nice there?" Will inquired curiously. Will was always looking for information on other places, first hand or second hand information so he could easily write about it.
Chase: I shrug. "There's not too much of a difference. It's much, much warmer there, and we lived by the seaside. We had an amazing view from our mansion." I say, recalling the scene of our home.
"The pictures I've seen are always gorgeous," Will mused. "Mansion? That must be nice. I live in an apartment with my aunt."
Chase: "Rich father." I say, shrugging again, tempted to roll my eyes. "The pictures of anywhere are always gorgeous. Never seen a postcard of Australia's garbage dumps, have you?"
"No kidding," Will mused, sitting on the edge of his bed and closing his eyes. "What's it like, to have enough money?" Will had always worried about expenses, always. His aunt didn't exactly have the best job, but Will's books sold well enough that worrying wasn't occurring as often anymore.
Chase: I laugh. "Depends how you look at it. Family, love, pressure, lifestyle, it's a different response for every catagory, I don't want to sound like the ungrateful spoiled jerk."
"But you don't have to worry about going broke, do you?" Will asked curiously. "that must be a nice thing, not worrying when you go out to get food... Nice house, too, right?"
Chase: I make a face. "Heck, everything I have is nice except the people I know and live'with." I blurt out, shaking my head.
"That makes two of us," Will promised, shaking his head in agreement. "Well, my aunt isn't too bad, but everyone before that surely, they were awful. Then again, nothing I have is nice, either. So that's another difference between us," he offered, not optimistically nor pessimistically, just simply stating.
Chase: I laugh. "Don't say that. I mean, come on. You're a published author. How cool is that? You're actually successful with proof imprinted by the thousand." My parents always scorned me for not being good enough. If I had printed evidence I could always show them... Then again, they'd find something else about me to hate on.
"Do you know how little money we make?" Will inquired. "Unless we're huge, and I mean huge, we don't make enough money to sustain ourselves well. All I manage to do for my aunt is pay the grocery bills." he offered with a shrug. "It'd be cooler if we could go shopping without worrying..."
Chase: I wince, because I felt like such a douche at the moment.Here I am, stinking rich and complaining about it, while Will could barely shop without having problems. "I... I'm sorry, mate." I finally say. "Did you get a scholarship or something for this school?"
Will shrugged, stretching out on his bed. "We'd have more money if there weren't so many health problems. Don't worry 'bout it." Of course, it was only he who had health problems. Will had far too many doctors, medicines, and other things than was reasonable. "Full scholarship, paid in full."
Chase: I nod, though I still felt uneasy. "I don't even know if we had to pay or not. I've been to schools all over the place. My dad just ships me off, and I have to keep my mouth shut and go." I shrug, quickly cutting myself off because I was complaining again.
"What's it like?" Will asked after a moment of pause. "To have a dad who doesn't beat you? I've never known..." Will was uneasy about revealing his past, though he supposed Chase would learn soon enough.
Chase: I blink, almost in surprise. "I've never known as well." I blurt out. I pause, realizing what I said. "Sorry." I quickly mumble. "I didn't mean... I..."
Will arched an eyebrow, suddenly curious. "Didn't know what?" He inquired. "That my father beat me? Or something else?"
Chase: "No! Yeah! Yes. I didn't know. I'm sorry." I stutter, covering it up quickly. "I'm sorry." I say again, shaking my head.
Will had a feeling Chase was lying, though he said nothing. "If you say so. I'm not sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for; I was a kid, and I'm not anymore." He shrugged, though it was clear he was slightly bitter about it.
Chase: "Hey, mate, I know what you mean." I say, patting him on the back, once I trusted myself to talk again. "They're strict, harsh, but they...you know. Really don't mean it badly." I say unconvincingly.
