Begining of something beautiful? (Hamish/Francis Past)

[Francis L. Bonnefoy]

This whole situation was still so very new to him. These walls had only been his home for a fortnight, but he still felt out of place. He did have people who could do odd things around him, just like he could, but it didn’t help. He still felt alone. These halls would never be his home, not really. There was no mothers embrace or a kiss goodnight, and there wouldn't be again. He had already grieved for this loss, alone in his room; but that wasn't the only things weighing him down. What did his friends think? Were they told of this new affliction he had? Or would some flimsy excuse be made up to cover his sudden disappearance? It would be a taint on the proud name of Bonnefoy to have a mutant in the family line.

There was no comfort for him here... sure the teachers might hug students, but all Francis had been able to do was get in trouble. He had learned it wasn't good to talk unless you had something to say, and even then, unless it was what they wanted to hear, it was best to keep the lips sealed in a gentle smile.

Though that action hadn't come easily to Francis lately. The other classmates looked down on him for his near porcelain skin, how delicate he seemed. It didn't help when it was spread that his power was over plants... and was taken for near useless. All he wanted was.....well, really, he didn't know what he wanted, but it wasn’t this. It would have been tempting to give in, to let it break his spirit, except he didn't want to give in. Apparently he still had a rebellious part of his spirit that wouldn't be crushed.

Sighing and putting on a fake, easy smile that would become part of his persona in years to come, he carried his lunch try into the cafeteria and looked around for a place to sit. His lessons were half over and mainly seemed useless to him. His first year was academics, but that had proven a challenge to him. Not because he wasn’t smart, oh no, he just raise too many questions that he shouldn’t have. So he quickly became silent in the class and only repeated back what the teachers had wanted to hear from him. He didn’t like it here and wanted his freedom back. Spotting a boy in the corner that looked about his age, he walked over, uncaring if others had started to look to him because of who he had decided to approach. Setting his tray down and letting a real smile come to face, he nodded at the red haired boy.

Bonjour~ I hope you don’t mind that I sit with you, it’s dreadfully crowded in here after all.

[Hamish A. Stuart]

Years had passed since he was brought to this school and even so he had made himself far worse than an outcast. Most children didn’t dare to approach him unless a teacher instigated such actions, considered dangerous by all of his peers it was common that he was left to a table all to himself. Who would dare approach someone that was so frightening? Sporting his ginger locks and the constant sneer no one ever question, he was bad news. Rumors began to spread about him throughout the years. Some were that he killed his own mother others were that he was secretly a spy that would kill misbehaving mutants. What a joke! As if he cared enough about their low test scores to skewer his peers or even lash out at them, if they came near him though he would give them a way to remember it. Maybe he would scratch them; maybe he would carve his name into their flesh! Never again would they pretend to have forgotten his name if they were forced to wear it on their bodies for the rest of their lives.

Sitting by himself Hamish found himself staring off, he no longer cared to give his attention to anything. Everything in his world had been stolen away from his, what little he held onto he was quickly taken away from him. Even his accent the school tried to rob from him, spouting words of how he had no chance of finding a home if he spoke in such a manner. The last teacher that dared to demand he speak clearly found such was far more than a mistake, Hamish spat in their face.

Noticing the sudden silence he could feel the air thicken, tension began to build from all those who dared to watch as a blonde came forward, he approached Hamish’s table. Smile on the boy’s face he continued to move closer as not a mutant dared to utter a single word, a few dared to chuckle believing they would witness someone torn to shreds. Even teachers began to panic unsure of how the ginger would react to someone approaching him, it seemed the blonde had yet to be warned about the infamous Hamish Stuart.

Teeth already bared he prepared to snap but stopped hearing the voice that spoke to him. French… His father spoke French, he knew a few phrases still. “Pas du tout.” His accent robbed his polite French words of the beauty that might have been heard if Francis said them. Clicking his tongue he sat back a bit looking Francis over as if trying to see if he should strike at the male even after giving such a polite greeting. “Sae ye'r th' moose. A've heard rumors aboot ye.” Smirking as he leaned forward he felt he needed to scare this blonde, show him that he had stepped into the lion’s den. “This is ma schuil, a'm Hamish. A' th' kids 'ere wull tell ye ah'ament someone yi'll waant tae be aroond. Bottom o' th' class 'n' th' monster wi`in weeds.” Giving a wicked grin one might claim he was the perfect vision of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. His voice was low as he spoke, no one dared to speak yet fearing they might miss something if they turned away.

“Ye'r yin o' th' bonny ones aren't ye?” Hamish once more grinned showing his teeth to the new boy, to his prey.

dark as the shadows in which you dwell

by worldie for dee

word count: 577
tags: Francis L. Bonnefoy
notes: Finally got this up

[Francis L. Bonnefoy]

The silence was a bit unnerving as he stood there, as he was only now just getting a bit more comfortable and settled in. It had been a while since he had been able to see Arthur, there schedules didn’t mesh since Francis was so new here. There was no one else willing to come near the new guy, at least not willingly. There weren’t any sings as to why, it just was. Perhaps this silence was a sign that they didn’t feel that he should approach the kid siting by himself. Was it because they thought that he should just stay by himself? He didn’t know, but he wasn’t deterred from what he wanted. Gilbert and Antonio knew that once he set his sights on something, he was persistent until he got it in some form or another.

“Pas du tout.

Francis could have cried then and there hearing his language speaking back to him, it had been so long since he had heard the familiar, soothing words. Even spoken in that different accent it still sounded closer to home than it did here in this country. He did smile though, one that lit up his whole face in happiness. Sitting down with his tray, he just watched the other man, trying to figure out where that accent was from.

“Sae ye'r th' moose. A've heard rumors aboot ye.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he looked back in confusion not quite understating all of that sentence. He needed to adjust his hearing for this accent, and he could only do that by hearing more of it, hopefully this boy kept speaking.

“I’m a moose? How am I a moose? And what have you heard?”

There wasn’t much to be told of him, only that he was quiet, he was in his early teens and it seemed like he had control over plants… but he didn’t think that was common knowledge yet, was it? Had it gotten out that his power was over such things that were meant for beauty and hardly seemed good for anything else. Did people think he was soft based on how he looked? He knew he didn’t do many harsh things, but he did get in trouble with his friends back home. Should he try to act like some of his other friends while in here or just try to be more himself and hope for the best.

“This is ma schuil, a'm Hamish. A' th' kids 'ere wull tell ye ah'ament someone yi'll waant tae be aroond. Bottom o' th' class 'n' th' monster wi`in weeds.”

It would defiantly take more interaction with this boy to be able to understand him fully, but.. he thought he caught most of that, but… there was few things that he didn’t understand. He could only sigh, but the Cheshire cat grin made him blink. It was close to the one that his friend had given him when they had come up with something that could have gotten them all into a lot of trouble with their parents, and it was usually up to Francis to negate some of the consequences of it.
“Ye'r yin o' th' bonny ones aren't ye?”

“Pardon… but what is shol? And aren’t we all considered monsters… less than human here? Why are you monster of weeds? … And Bonny? Non, You can call me Francis.”

He knew he was messing part of that up, but he couldn’t understand all of the speech yet. He would though, given time, this he knew. Carefully, he moved to take a bit of his food, wanting to eat some of it before someone decided to come up and take it from him. That hadn’t happened yet, but he had heard stories being passed around in warning to him… either that or they were just messing with him since he seemed so trusting. He had no reason to not believe the kids, but no one had mentioned this boy before. Even if they would have, he would have still been willing to approach him. After all, Gilbert tried to give off a frightening look but he was a sweet as he came once he got to know them.

[Hamish A. Stuart]

Sighing he appeared to be more than a little annoyed that Francis misunderstood him. Hamish could be told time and time again and yet he never found his accent difficult to understand making him believe all should have little to no issue with it. Teachers spent weeks going over how to pronounce each letter as if they believed they could cure Hamish of his manner of speaking by making him say weird sounds for long enough. Each class he never uttered a single word and at the bell would leave having not given in to the demand that he lose his accent. No matter what Hamish would never allow anyone to steal from him that only thing he was allowed to keep from his father.

“Urr ye a moron? A moose nae a moose!” To all else it might have sounded as if he had just said the same word twice Hamish’s ears heard them as though they were completely different words. Feeling that once more this boy would be confused he put his hands on top of his head in fists to make ears being trying to make a mouse like sound so maybe he could get them to understand how much of a fool they were. “Moose!” He said the word once more as if it would get his point across. “You’re quiet, lurking aroond hardly clocked by th' ithers.”

No one spoke to Hamish and yet he already knew of the new kid. Rumors spread rather fast making it rather easy to find out anything that had been discovered about the new kid without having to ask anyone. Useless, he heard the word spoken so many times when someone mentioned the blonde boy that had been collected not long ago. Never did the mention what this boy was capable of but Hamish doubted it was much with the way they spoke about him. Many said he followed orders but so many followed each command given as if disobeying was a certain death sentence.

Feeling he was being mocked the red head stood showing his towering height that was impressive for his age before shadows began to move toward them. Crawling over the table the shadows made hands that reached for Francis, crawling at the surface of the table as if they were escaping the clutches of hell to bring him harm. Green eyes had become black holes which no light could be found. Cheshire grin no longer to be seen as his lips twisted to a cruel scowl. His attention focused on the single soul of the blonde before him, no mind was given to the students who darted away fearing anything would be caught in the clutches of the shadows beginning to take form. Soon shadows moved over Hamish giving him horns and wings making him the sight of a devil.

“Ye dare mock me? Haven’t ye heard th' rumors? Ah am a murderer! At nicht ah lurk th' halls 'n' a'body wha dares cross mah path wull lose thair soul!” Hamish growled as he walked across the table glaring at this Francis. He wanted to see him cower as they all had when seeing his powers. Everyone always ran from him, he was alone. Around the room guards kept watch of the ginger knowing well he may decide to strike forcing them to have him restrained but it was more likely he would give a show before darting back to his room to hide from all around them.

Kicking Francis’ tray away from him the ginger continued to bare his teeth as if he was expecting Francis to flee, to fear him just as so many others had.

dark as the shadows in which you dwell

by worldie for dee

word count: 613
tags: Francis L. Bonnefoy
notes: woo replied

[Francis L. Bonnefoy]

He listened closely to the other boy, but he still couldn't hear the differences in the words. He was trying to understand him, he really was, but it accent wasn't familiar yet. Those as soon as he balled up his hands and made the neat squeaks, Francis couldn't help the small giggle that fell from his lips. While he had a small issue understanding the boy, the imitation of a mouse was funny and was making him feel more at ease. Surely he couldn't be all bad if he could be funny?

Francis knew he was wring the moment that the hands full from his head and he stood up, stood taller than Francis did. He knew he hadn’t yet hit his growth spurt, but this other boy was tall and lanky. What started to really make him feel uncomfortable was the way that it seemed the shadows moved as if commanded by an unseen force, as if by their own power. Francis had never liked the dark much, but this was beyond his slight fear. He couldn’t help but going quiet as he watched, retracting his arms more towards his chest. He knew that he was older than this kid, but that hardly mattered. He almost seemed to regress to a younger age since he had been here, in the unsure environment. All he wanted was something stable. And that something stable was not the shadows that seemed to reach for him or ones that seemed to change the redheads form, making true the stories that those with red head worked for evil. The horns didn’t bother him as much as the wings. He was very much an Earth bound individual since he could manipulate plants.

“Ye dare mock me? Haven’t ye heard th' rumors? Ah am a murderer! At nicht ah lurk th' halls 'n' a'body wha dares cross mah path wull lose thair soul!”

“I’m not mocking…..”

He sat frozen in his seat, looking down at his food which he couldn’t eat anymore… he didn’t’ dare move and his grasp of words had currently left him with only a few that he could speak. He heard the footsteps on the table, and he couldn’t help but wince as his tray went flying to the side from where it was kicked, food scattering across the rest of the table, the chairs and even the floor. If someone had did that at home, there would be a missed dinner and bed without supper, and who knows what else, but here, he doubt that since no one had stopped this man so far. With a small whimper, he let a few tears fall down his cheek, uncaring of who could see. Everyone already thought he was soft, so this wouldn’t matter. He didn’t even think of that at this moment, he could only think about how he wanted someone to protect him and how scared he was and he couldn’t’ even make any friends here… but mostly it was how scared he was of getting hurt by this boy with the frightening shadow powers. Without meaning to, he broke out into a full cry in fear, tears running down his face, unchecked.

Unknown to him, any plants that might have been in the room or anywhere nearby had all turned towards the scene that was happening in the cafeteria, more specifically, towards the boy with the demon shape.

---

Hamish A. Stuart

[Hamish A. Stuart]

A mere year separated the boys, Hamish holding the single year ahead but it was hard to say if that year was the reason that the boy towered or if he build had given him the advantage. It had seemed he had always been abnormally tall for his age, being what most called a monster it was rarely thought if any of his traits would considered unusual for his age. With his height he was granted a broad wingspan allowing him to even further entrap someone as he leaned forward. It was as if he held out claws threatening to tear you limb from limb before the shadows began to emerge. Perhaps the common fear of the dark is what gave Hamish the ability to give such a fearsome show for those around him. Minds often thought of his shadows swallowing them, suffocating them in the darkness. Could there be hope where light could not reach?

These boys could not be farther apart. Francis seemed to stumble grasping for something stable in his new world and yet Hamish seemed to charge over the uneven field preparing to battle a force that had not existed. Never did Hamish dare to glance around him, the environment was unknown and yet he lacked the fear of so many around him, he created his own stable force. Catching himself as he tumbled down the hill before him. Francis was Earth bound and yet Hamish seemed bound to nothing. If the two had been friends Hamish could be the stable force for the blonde while Francis would give him reason to give up the fight, to show him an army did not stand against him.
They were a pair that could benefit from each other and yet here they stood facing off.

Guards at last began to move toward the pair, it seemed they were unsure if Hamish prepared to strike or if the ginger was only attempting to scare the innocent blonde. The boy could be unpredictable making the guards on edge, it would not be the first time Hamish injured another child but in the past it had only been girls that came into physical contact with him.
“Hamish,” a guard growled in warning to the boy in hopes of causing him to back down.

Hearing his name a snarl was given in return but his eyes continued to be focused on Francis just as the first tear trailed down the boy’s face. The shadows seemed to retreat for a moment as Hamish’s hold slipped, the shock broke his focus but only for a moment. Why would the boy cry instead of flee? Something about his boy made him want to know them, to get away from all eyes for a moment.

His thoughts had yet to catch up with his body as he suddenly grabbed Francis and jumped from the table. Guards began to move forward believing now the younger boy to be in danger but the shadows had yet to move to strike. No, Hamish’s grip was tight and his legs continued to move, propelling him toward the exit and forcing Francis to follow. Door were slamming shut behind the pair before guards managed to prepare their weapons to handle the lanky mutant. Cursing guards moved to follow but Hamish seemed to already have a path in mind.
Shadows falling from his body he kept his fingers laced with that of the younger blonde. Stopping once he reached a pair of stairs his eyes were revealed to have returned to green as his head darted from side to side. Not a single word was said before he entered the stairwell clearly having a plan in mind.

“Trust me.”
Those words came from his lips before he pulled Francis close and leaned himself over the railing of the stairs, as he leaned back farther his body slipped over the rail dragging Francis with him. The pair fell freely passing a few floors in their decline before shadows wrapped around the pair stopping them right before they collided with the first floor, once stopped the shadows faded away allowing the pair to drop to the floor from a foot above. Glancing up Hamish waved to the guards who glanced down at the pair from the fourth floor. Brushing himself off the lanky boy stood up, “Wipe awa' they tears awready. Ye'r tae bonny tae murdurr.” There remained no sign of Hamish’s previous cruel grin, no instead he smiled at Francis offering a hand.

dark as the shadows in which you dwell

by worldie for dee

word count: 750
tags: Francis L. Bonnefoy
notes: Francis look what you got yourself into