The Night Is Young [Arthur]

[Ludwig A. Beilschmidt]

The sky through the barred window had barely started to slip from sunset orange towards the deep blue of night when the bell began to sound. Ever a stickler for rules, Ludwig was already in his dorm room, seated on one of the three beds; his two roommates came rushing in hastily before the bell stopped ringing, wanting to avoid trouble at all costs. They barely gave Ludwig a glance; the German knew his presence there was entirely expected. From outside, the sounds of chatter and hurried footsteps drifted past the closed door as the other students hurried to be in their rooms before the nighttime curfew officially began. Although a set "lights out" time existed, as far as the administrators cared, the students could do what they want as long as no parties or fights broke out, so long as they stayed in their rooms.

Most students at Weeds, Ludwig included, found this rule more than infuriating. Plenty of them had friends that didn't include their two assigned roommates, for one, and the curfew applied to every single area of the school -- the cafeteria, the library, the classrooms, and so on -- so that if you needed to finish an assignment, you had to work quickly and in short bursts around the rest of your schedule. Or, if you were Ludwig, you ignored most everyone else and focused on your work. And even for him, the curfew was maddening. It was obvious that it had been put in place to allow most of the workers at Weeds to go home to their families, Ludwig could understand that much, but if anything, that just made it worse. Most of the students weren't here willingly, and if they hadn't been too jaded by the system yet, missed their homes and families. Even though Ludwig knew his family didn't care about him, he still felt a twinge of angry envy every time he saw the workers filing out across the dark expanse to go home.

But there was a single silver lining: the night shift. With the mutants locked in their rooms, they required very little supervision, and that meant a skeleton crew of guards. Even with the trouble that some of the mutants tended to cause, nights were relatively quiet and, if you knew how to navigate the school without getting caught, the night was yours for the taking.

When he'd first gotten to Weeds, Ludwig had been absolutely against breaking any rules. Of course, that was before he'd learned that most of the rules were stupid. Most of the other students harbored the same kind of sentiment, but it varied from person to person: just how far would you be willing to cross the line?

The sky outside had gotten truly dark now. Ludwig checked his watch; he should be going, or he'd be late and Arthur would scold him. He stood from his bed and stretched before walking to the door.

"Where do y'think you're going? one of his roommates piped up, looking up from the homework he'd been working on.

Ludwig shrugged, "Out. Does it matter?"

The boy stared at him for a moment, then shrugged in return and went back to his work. They weren't friends by any means, but being a tattletale would only earn you a beating here.

There were two ways Ludwig could leave the room: through the door or through the window. Both required a lot of effort, but he'd already promised on a certain time and he had to get moving. Flipping a mental coin, he went for the door and put his hand on the locking mechanism. It had taken him a while to get this right, but it worked like a charm and overrode whatever security system had been put in place to set off alarms when a locked door was opened. Narrowing his eyes, Ludwig funneled heat into the lock, directing it away from the sensitive pins and electronics and moving it straight into the deadbolt instead. In a minute the metal bolt was glowing red hot and when Ludwig gave the door a hard shove, it bent like rubber and opened. He closed it carefully behind him and wiggled the door until the deadbolt was back in its place before stealing the heat back: he'd left it to cool naturally one time and the wall had caught on fire.

Now free from the stupid early lockdown, Ludwig glanced around the hallway before walking quietly off. It would have been more silent to forgo his shoes but he hadn't been able to break that habit and the floor were probably filthy.

Taking a deep breath, Ludwig sighed. Once he got over the slightly nerve-wracking understanding that he was doing something wrong, being out and about like this when the rest of the world was silent felt wonderful. The school felt like it belonged to him. He could do what he wanted: raid the pantry, run around in the gym, even sneak outside to get some real fresh air. Tonight's destination had been decided a while ago, however, and with that in mind he navigated the long hallways of the boys' dormitory until he found the door he'd been searching for. Walking up, Ludwig knocked on the metal in a quiet rhythm, hoping his friend was waiting inside.  He'd break the other man out in the same way he had escaped if need be.

"Arthur? You there? Are you ready to go?"

[Arthur W. Kirkland]

. . .

After rummaging through his small collection of books that he’d taken from the library, Arthur was fast realising that he needed to either renew his collection or filch more books. It was shoddy timing, because the library was already closed. Not that it necessarily mattered, because there was a little planned excursion as soon as the sun slipped into the horizon. He could hear the quiet padding or not so delicate thumps along the hallways outside his door as everyone hurried to make it into their rooms before they were all forced to lock their doors. The staff probably relished this part, because they could forget about the troublesome mutants for a day and enjoy their families and homes for the evening, putting the mutant children away as if they were baubles to be molded and shaped for another day.

Arthur, while he normally would have followed the rules to his whim under the most normal of circumstances, was more than aware that their circumstances were a far cry from normal as most humans could relate to that word. He wouldn’t resist slipping out for tonight with an unlikely friend, a German boy that he’d met, glancing over the tops of books. If anything, the library was a place to meet other like-minded students during the small measures of free time. Books offered alternate worlds, alternate escapes from the sordid reality that they all had been submerged into, drowning any hopes that they may have had for the future that could never be. Aside from their shared love of books, Ludwig was a rather standup fellow, Arthur would be the first to admit. There was such an almost gentlemanly decency to him that was far from common in Weeds, a quality that Arthur couldn’t help but to admire. In that sense, it was almost more satisfying managing to convince him of all students to share these exploits with him, sneaking to places where they shouldn’t, deriving deviant satisfaction where it was forbidden.

Arthur was waiting at the foot of his bed, tightening the laces on his shoes. His eyes wandered briefly over to his roommate’s bed, only the vague form of a body beneath the covers. He’d been like that since he’d come into the room—it’s anyone’s guess if the boy was actually asleep or it was a simple nonverbal that he wished for a bit of peace amidst a particularly nasty day. There was a heated tug in his body at the sight, an immediate desire to slip beneath Mihai’s covers to offer a warm presence, even in sleep if that were the case, to mold his body against his. Calming the sudden flush to his cheeks, Arthur went back to tying his shoes. He had been slipping into a jacket when he heard the quiet knock at their door. The soft, almost methodical rhythm of the knock was familiar and Arthur had to fight the automatic smile that threatened to form at the sound.

If that weren’t enough, he could hear Ludwig’s muffled voice on the other end. Casting one last glance to his unmoving roommate, Arthur shuffled quietly across the room until he came close to the door, his hand poised upon the locked doorknob. His method for breaking out was usually much smoother than most. He paused for a moment in concentration, summoning a nearby entity, preferably someone who had died on the premises, as it was far easier to use areas where some essence of a person remained, like faint traces unseen to most. Unwilling to connect to whoever it was he had brought forth, the ghostly presence released the lock mechanism after being compelled to do so. Even without being told to do so, untamed entities who claimed areas seemed to have an affinity for locking and unlocking doors, among a vast number of capabilities, for their own amusement. At least, here, Arthur could use it to his advantage.

Opening the door, Arthur stepped as quietly as he could out into the hallway, clicking shut the door behind him. His eyes were upon Ludwig, the boy blessed with a somewhat intimidating physique that housed a temperate (and dare he say it, a rather gentle) soul. Arthur spared him a small, surprisingly sincere smile, free of his usual smug humour. ”I’m always ready,” he finally responded to the inquiry Ludwig had made moments before to a closed door. ”I’d ask the same, though you look like you’re enjoying your unconventional taste of freedom.” Of course, it was only a guess and he wanted to hear Ludwig’s reaction to his false observation. On the outside, he didn’t appear to be more or less pleased than usual, just the same Ludwig who was usually a taskmaster about the rules. This case was an apparent exception. For that, Arthur was secretly glad.

Arthur began to make his way down the hallway, avoiding the weak areas where it produced loud creaks in the floorboards when pressure was applied. He turned his attention over to Ludwig occasionally to ensure that he was shadowing him. His voice dropped low, barely above a whisper whenever he spoke to avoid unnecessary attention from the occasional guard on patrol. ”I suppose you’d rather not push your luck and explore anything beyond the library tonight?” He paused, his hand gripping the railing as they reached one of the stairwells, nearing where they’d branch off either toward the library or close to the kitchens. ”Are you hungry?” Arthur was never above pushing his own luck, but he counted himself considerate enough to ask for his companion’s opinion before leading them astray among the network of the school’s corridors. It wasn’t uncommon for him to slip into the pantry to filch a small bit of food before making his way to his true destination for the evening. The night was theirs for the taking, as were the school grounds, a temporary playground of questionable proportions…

CODED BY DUCKIE OF GS

[Ludwig A. Beilschmidt]

baby you're a firestorm you're a loaded cannon

From behind the closed metal door, Ludwig could hear the sound of movement, and he knew Arthur would likely join him soon. Even so, he couldn't help casting glances down the length of the dormitory hallway, dreading but somehow entirely prepared to see a flashlight beam sweep around the corner, followed by the owner of the flashlight. The night guards didn't make many patrols: they were as motivated as they were vigilant, which meant that they spent most of their shift in the duty office. It was common knowledge that they were obligated to make one patrol a night, however, and the German was forever worried that they'd want to get it out of the way early in the evening. The lock opened with a quiet click and Arthur let himself out. Ludwig returned the hint of a smile he received, genuinely glad to see his friend looking so well. When he'd first encountered the Brit, he had found Arthur intimidating. The other mutant had spoken no language but bitter sarcasm, and his overlarge eyebrows made his expressions and emotions crystal clear; more often than not, Arthur had seemed to view the rest of the world with disappointment, even disdain. But their mutual love of books had somehow drawn them together, and they had both warmed up considerably to each other's company. Ludwig learned to stop trying to hide from everyone and Arthur became friendlier. Really, Ludwig mused, the two of them made a perfect exploration party. They were both logical and relatively cool-headed. "It's nice to be in control of my day again," Ludwig replied to his friend's greeting, quickly falling in step behind him as Arthur walked off. He knew that Arthur's ability involved spirits, and he was half-tempted to ask if they had taught Arthur where the squeaky floorboards lay. Nevertheless, Arthur always led, because he knew exactly where to step. "I'm sure you could probably say the same," he added in a low whisper. Calling the Weeds of Tomorrow a school was generous: it was a prison. The mutants attended classes, talked, ate, and slept, but all was done according to a strict schedule in a confined area under the watchful eyes of guards. But while Ludwig still struggled with whether or not he hated his ability -- it had sent him here, after all -- he did feel fortunate that it allowed him to leave his room. Most of the other mutants were stuck. Arthur was similar to him. While Ludwig had never presumed to ask the other's life story, Arthur seemed to feel just as trapped as he did. He couldn't even remember who had broached the idea of sneaking out first. And the very first trip they had attempted, Ludwig had been terrified. He hadn't known whether or not he could trust Arthur -- the other student could have easily set him up and warned the guards that he'd be breaking curfew. He'd nearly set fire to the building, of course (that memory still brought fresh shame) and he'd made so much noise walking that he'd been looking over his shoulder every five seconds for the onrush of the night crew. But everything had gone perfectly. Arthur had met him, they'd escaped to the library, spent a few precious hours reading and talking, then returned to their respective beds. It was nice to be able to trust someone again. And so, here they were once more. As Arthur raised the possibility of 'pushing his luck' (Ludwig liked that curious expression), he thought the possibility over. He had never risked sneaking anywhere so far away, certainly, but tonight's dinner had been poor, even by Weeds standards: a substandard stew with hardly any meat, a piece of bread, and tinned fruit for dessert. Ludwig couldn't deny that he felt hungry even now. "I am," he admitted, in the same low whisper. "I've never gone as far as the kitchens, though. Is it safe?" Arthur was the only person Ludwig could sneak out with like this, and if the two of them were caught and punished, Ludwig feared it might fracture the shaky friendship they had been building. Word Count: 696 Tags: Arthur W. Kirkland Notes: I am slow OTL

by worldie for lena

[Arthur W. Kirkland]

. . .

If told that others had an effect on him, Arthur wouldn’t believe it, thinking it silly that anyone could ever have that amount of influence over anyone else. But in some cases, it was true. Meeting friends like Ludwig did have that impact. Arthur encouraged Ludwig (at first for selfish reasons, namely so that he wouldn’t be alone in his excursions to the library at night) to come out of his proverbial hiding. By doing this; however, Arthur found that he had also softened a bit. His musings weren't as dark as they could've been and his thoughts lacked the usual sting of cynicism whenever their nightly hour approached. Their time together was a reprieve of sorts. He found that he enjoyed Ludwig’s conversation whenever they were in the library—usually about a particular book that he found interesting or ideas that the books may have inspired, ideas that were usually better suited for life outside their imprisonment. That’s all they had at the moment—always wishing for something better and finding small solace from the harsh reality that awaited them each morning.

”True. It’s nice to be in control of anything here. Whatever you can manage, it’s worth it,” Arthur muttered back, his voice soft and low against the dark corridor as they cautiously moved past. Whenever they did this, the vast majority of the time, Arthur preferred to lead. He knew which corridors to take, which areas were the most heavily patrolled that night, and which portions of the floors were the quietest against their footfalls. Spirits divulged whatever secrets the building held to him, but he still managed a level of skepticism with what they gave him. Not all spirits gave accurate information, whether out of mischief or ill-will. Luckily for them, Arthur had yet to come into contact with a malevolent specter in the dorm halls.

Arthur was also quite familiar with Ludwig’s ability and was only slightly ill at ease around it, because of the high-risk environment of the library if an accident ever blossomed. As long as he had control over it, then it was easy enough to put away his reservations. Given Arthur’s loathing for the institution, matched by many other students, he was an encourager of mischief. He got a personal thrill out of thieving items from the kitchens, sneaking about where he shouldn’t, and spurring other students into breaking the rules right alongside with him. Under normal circumstances, he may have been a very well-behaved and proper student. However, society has made it clear that they are far from 'normal' and that their distasteful circumstances have been laid out for them the moment they were born with the wrong genes.

It still felt fairly early in their friendship for Arthur to bring up such scandalous topics of conversation, but he often wondered if he was really as alone as he felt in his personal conviction. It wasn’t common, but surely there were other mutants in the Academy who dared to question what they were taught by the instructors. It was easy to accept the material they were handed instead of making it more difficult for themselves by forming their own opinion upon the matter. Given their shared hobby of reading, he suspected that Ludwig may have at least given it some thought. That’s what he liked about the other mutant. He was thoughtful in his own way, with an almost innate sense of goodness that was always hard to resist.

When Ludwig whispered back at him, giving an answer for the possibility of kitchen exploration. Arthur tried to hide his smile with the prospect of an added excursion. The supplementary thrill bloomed warmly in his stomach as he glanced over at the other. ”It’s a gamble. Some nights, the kitchens are left unguarded,” He whispered. His words were assured in a way that reflected how often he dared to sneak close to the kitchens, the draw of going to bed without an empty stomach had always been a strong incentive. ”We can start heading in that direction, and if it’s being watched, then we can always turn back.” Arthur paused, both in his speech and his movements as they approached the junction that led to the area close to the kitchens. His eyes passed over Ludwig in the poor light, seeing only his frame and the vague lines of his expression.

Arthur seemed to be considering something before making a different offer, this one a decided lessening of risk that would be placed on Ludwig. If only Arthur happened to get caught in the kitchens, there was no need for both of them to be excessively punished, now, was there? ”Or I could always get something for you and meet you in the library, if you’d like?” The words were casual, but the desire to do something… well, nice, and not entirely self-serving had taken its hold. Friendships have always been hard to come by for Arthur—he'd never been very good at making or keeping them. But it was worth a go to protect the ones he did have. He turned to send a long side-long glance down the dark corridor while he waited for Ludwig’s answer, light colour only briefly raiding his expression.

CODED BY DUCKIE OF GS

notes: I'm so sorry that took so long. ><;

[Ludwig A. Beilschmidt]

baby you're a firestorm you're a loaded cannon

Hearing Arthur echo his sentiments made Ludwig feel a little more confident, and although he still walked carefully behind the other student as they dodged the squeaky floorboards, some pride had crept back into his frame, squaring off his shoulders and lifting his chin. As much as he knew that Weeds was a prison built around indoctrinating mutants, some of the lessons the teachers had been giving lately had planted doubts in Ludwig’s mind. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as he thought he’d been. Maybe he really didn’t have any control over what he could do — and every time the teachers mentioned how dangerous mutants could be to normal humans, Ludwig couldn’t help remembering his old friends, his brother, and the time he’d burnt half the house down. But speaking to Arthur like this reaffirmed what he’d arrived here believing. Even if his abilities were dangerous, all of this policing… it wasn’t right. Overall, Ludwig’s feelings about Weeds were complicated. He both understood and disliked the way it was run: he could understand on a base level why the school refused to let him into the library, for instance, but he had a spotless record and had a reputation as a bookworm, which should have spoken for his character. Maybe those in charge thought he wanted revenge, somehow. It would have been satisfying, Ludwig thought, to burn the place down, but what good would that have done? The teachers and that shrill librarian would evacuate, and the people he'd be most likely to hurt would be other students unwillingly stuck here, just like him. The guards, the bullies, the people in charge that had organized for mutants to be imprisoned in a 'school' were nowhere near this desolate place, and despite Ludwig's surety in his own abilities, he doubted he could send his flames that far away. And... thinking about revenge made him feel guilty. I'm a bad mutant, he echoed in his thoughts, before hastily correcting himself, no, I'm a bad person. Normal people didn't dwell on causing others pain. Shaking his head just a little, he tried to put those unpleasant reflections out of his thoughts. Arthur’s suggestion about the kitchen, guarded or unguarded, had piqued his interest, and somewhat unusually, Ludwig felt a bit daring tonight. A pleasant mental image of himself and Arthur enjoying cups of hot tea while flipping through the pages of books in the dark library and discussing the literature played out in his imagination. Arthur’s addendum — that Ludwig could proceed to the library and let Arthur check the kitchen out on his own — only fueled the German boy’s curiosity and desire to break into this new forbidden place. ”I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble alone for something like that, not for my sake” he explained in a low voice. ”And I want to see what the kitchen is like at night, and what kind of things they have in there.” Considering the quality of the meals served at Weeds, Ludwig suspected the kitchen would be full of overripe fruit and stale bread, but perhaps there would be a hidden cache of treats, a bonus to their risky excursion. ”Do you think they have tea? We could take water and cups and have tea in the library. Or maybe hot cocoa?” Hearing the excitement creeping into his voice, Ludwig cleared his throat and looked away, a little embarrassed. He sounded like a little kid, honestly, but it was difficult not to feel so excited for so rare a treat. Although, if Arthur and he were able to keep up these nightly wanderings, perhaps it would become a regular thing to look forward to. That thought genuinely brightened Ludwig’s spirits. He genuinely liked Arthur’s company, and if anything, the way Arthur had affirmed his earlier doubts and cleared his thoughts of the lessons that had gotten pushed into his head all day proved that Ludwig needed someone like the sarcastic British student to talk to. Word Count: 674 Tags: Arthur W. Kirkland Notes: -rises from the dead-

by worldie for lena

[Arthur W. Kirkland]

. . .

Arthur felt something similar to accomplishment when he noticed how Ludwig sometimes walked with his back straighter, an entirely different posture whenever the two of them talked or spent time together, as opposed to when they were attending classes or being lectured by one of the administrators about the dangers of mutants or the ways they were meant to behave. Arthur was an anomaly in the way that he consistently defied the system, his inborn stubbornness, ambition, and constant desire for the things that could never be his were what fed his fire, and it was that fire that the administrators didn’t know how to control, or better yet, put out. He was their problem mutant. And the closer he aged to where they’d transfer him into the Underground, the more it seemed like they’d completely given up on rehabilitating him. He was a lost cause. It’s amusing that the school’s delinquent and their seemingly model student would get along so well. In actuality, even with Ludwig’s penchant for the rules, or at least as far as Arthur could see, he also felt that the two of them had rather kindred spirits in more ways than not. As far as their interests and other personality traits went.

Before Arthur could open up his mouth to argue Ludwig’s first point, to contend that this would not have been his first time getting into trouble for sneaking off into places that he shouldn’t be in, his protests were quelled when he heard Ludwig’s second point. A slow, slightly devious grin crept over his mouth, his glance mock sweeping over Ludwig, as if seeing a new side of him for the first time. ”My, my—you actually want to partake in my misdeeds? I thought that Weeds taught you better than that. Apparently not. I’m rather proud,” his tone took a slightly teasing turn, the dry humour coming through. Nevertheless, Arthur made his way in the direction of the kitchens, glancing back so that Ludwig knew where to follow him. ”It’s different every time I make my way in there. I suppose that’s always the case when most of their food comes from donations or produce at the grocer’s market that’s about to spoil. But every once in a while there’s a gem.” He kept his voice low and clear as they moved.

Arthur’s mind had been on the tea as well, one of the items that he was hoping to secure from the Weed’s pantry. ”I’m usually able to get tea every time; they always seem to have it.” The corners of his mouth rose a little, amused with Ludwig’s sudden embarrassment with his excitement. The sort of excitement that was difficult to come by in a place like Weeds. Honestly, Arthur got a bit of a thrill whenever he did these ventures too, sneaking out at night, sneaking tea and other treats, and reading late at night in the library. ”They might? We’ll look for that too,” he responded quietly.

Everything looked different at night, even something as menial as the large dining room and the kitchen beyond had a slightly menacing feel to it, with its long shadows and the occasional echo of the steps of nightly guards approaching. By the time they reached the doors to the dining room, Arthur concentrated on the lock. He cringed with the soft, resounding sound from the door being unbolted from the other side; the thud seemed much louder in the silence that enveloped them. Pushing the metal door open, Arthur slipped through, leaving it for Ludwig to follow him. He paused once inside the dining room, as if listening to words or unseen phenomena. His gaze a little unfocused before he glanced back at Ludwig. ”I think we’re clear…”

As he approached the side door that led to the kitchens, he was about ready to reach for the handle when, without warning, the door unlocked itself and flew open. ”Shitshitshit,” Arthur hissed as he moved forward to catch the door before it made sharp contact with the wall. He looked like he wanted to say something, or better yet, curse something, but he kept his mouth shut for now, glancing back at Ludwig as if in hasty apology. After making their way through the main part of the kitchens, toward the back lay the storage room and the staff dining hall along with the offices of the main kitchen staff. Both of them were likely to be promising. ”Well, the pantry’s over there—unless you’d like to pour through the staff area first?“ There was one occasion where Arthur had gotten lucky and managed to swipe a bottle of wine and a package of biscuits from one of the offices, though that wasn’t a usual occurrence.

CODED BY DUCKIE OF GS