Frederick Blackwell & Thomas Springsteen
A collaboration between @Tyler and @Blacksam3091The individual whom Freddie had crashed into was now crouched before him, waving his finger and asking for a name in a tongue that was indiscernibly Scottish. Freddie smiled meekly and fixed his eyes upon the Scot's fingertips, following it back and forth for a few seconds as the boy checked for concussion or whatever other head injuries he might be cautious of.
"Frederick James Michael Blackwell," he muttered, reciting his lengthy birthname as he rose to his feet with the help of his improvised medic. "But you can call me Freddie." he said, mustering a smile as he met eyes with the helpful Scot. He had interesting features; a wave of dirty blonde hair sitting wherever it pleased and framing his angular features in a way that didn't quite complement either of the otherwise quite attractive elements of his appearance. A light dusting of stubble speckled his sharp chin.
Well, Frederick James Michael Blackwell could remember his own name and didn't seem to be having any trouble following the finger. Tommy allowed himself a small sigh of relief as it began to look like a crisis avoided.
Still, looks can be deceiving, and there ain't nothing to say that Freddie is outta the woods yet. Tommy reckoned he'd better stick close to his patient for a while. It was the least he could do, after clocking him like he had.
Freddie snapped back to attention, and extended a grazed hand to the boy, who was slightly taller than himself. Tommy grasped it and half shook it, half used it to yank the smaller boy to his feet.
"A pleasure to meet you," he said, "Though I didn't quite catch your name." He said, typically British in his introduction. He couldn't remember ever laying eyes on the Scot before; and he was certain he'd have remembered someone who looked so...
distinctive. But surely... They couldn't be accepting new students this late into the term? He decided not to broach it.
“It's Tommy. Tommy Springsteen.” The Scot replied, a small grin worming it's way onto his features at Freddie's incredibly formal manners. He'd never met a teen who spoke like that in his life. Figured that he'd be English, with enunciation like that, though Tommy wasn't the type of person to hold that against him. He'd never held much stock by that stereotype of the 'Auld Enemies'.
"Well, Tommy, I won't lie, it's rather wonderful to hear a familiar accent around here." he said, somewhat sheepishly. "Have you met Mailsi? I hear she's supposed to be Irish." He paused briefly. "Not that I have much to do with her."
'Accents?' Freddie questioned himself himself,
'Really? You're gonna resort to that to make conversation?' He almost scowled at his own poor effort; he would snarl in disdain at the Americans who would bring up his own accent as a conversation starter, and yet here he was.
Tommy chuckled at Freddie's pained expression. If he had to put money on it then he woulda guessed that the guy wasn't all that impressed with his own choice of conversation topic. Tommy didn't mind all that much. In fact he'd half-expected for half the student body to point out his unusual accent to him. Londoners were certainly keen enough to do it, so why not the yanks?
“Aye, I get that. It's nice tae be reminded of home. And nah, I haven't even heard of her. You're the first person I've met, excepting Gordon.” "Well, in that event, I suppose I'm rather lucky you were here for me to bump into!" he joked, though he wondered what matutinal activities would bring someone out to the Liberal Arts wing. It was ultimately none of his business, he supposed, but that didn't stop his curiosity from prodding him. "What are you doing out here, anyway?" he inevitably asked. "Classes don't start for a while."
As secretive as his double life had taught him to be, Tommy had never quite mastered the art of telling someone to mind their own business. He'd just never had the balls to be that blunt. Which was a damn shame, seeing as how he dearly didn't want to admit that the only reason he was outside the Liberal Arts Wing was on account of him going and getting himself lost. Nobody liked admitting to their shortcomings, and he was no different. It was especially embarrassing, considering where he was.
Ye think yer Corrigan School for Advanced Learning and Development material, but yer too stupid to even stop yersell getting lost. Aye, Tommy-boy, you got some real potential right enough. Might as well just own up to it though, and hope that Freddie would take pity on him and steer him back on the right path.
“I'm no really much of a sleeper,” In fact he hadn't slept a wink since his powers awakened, but Freddie didn't need to know that. [color=deepskyblue]“So I stepped out for a nigh-time promenade, take in the sights, as it were. Only genius here went and got himsell' lost. Was just trying to figure my way out when I met you.”
Freddie smirked knowingly. "Rough night?" he jibed, assuming the Scot's lack of sleep was due to a night on the town. He winked playfully. "You'll fit right in. You simply must meet my friend Mari, she's..." Freddie paused, thinking of a kind way to describe the alien. "Well, she's a character, for sure. Hey, she's over in the canteen right now." he recalled in the moment, getting carried away with the notion as he so often tended to. "Did you get chance to eat yet?"
Tommy chuckled at Freddie's joke, his warm smile going a long way to lighten his usually severe features. Rough night? It was the first one in weeks where he hadn't been dressed up in tights, patrolling dimly lit London streets with a brisk British breeze blowing up his nethers. Rough didn't even come into it.
"Aye, that's me. A real party animal," He replied, although that claim couldn't be further from the truth. Ever since everything that had happened with Daniel and Sharpe, the urge to party, celebrate, carouse, rave it up, make merry, or just generally 'sesh' had abandoned him completely. Not that he was gonna say that out loud though. Who admits to being an outright party pooper?
Freddie went on to mention his friend, Mari, but seemed to struggle to find a way to describe her. Tommy didn't press him, not all that desperate to have to chit-chat with anyone else so soon. He'd never been the most social of animals, not since. . . Well, the obvious. That said, he was starting to get a touch peckish, and it sounded like 'Mari' was where the food was at.
An really, wid it really be so terrible tae be on first name basis wi two people on the entire continent, Tommy-boy? "Nae yet, though I wouldnae say no if that's you offering tae show me the way to the scran hall?"Freddie smiled and nodded affirmatively, before beginning to walk Tommy back in the direction of the cafeteria. "I mean, I'd hate to give you false hope," he confessed to the Scot, his jocular tone accompanied by a wry grin. "Corrigan has a standard to uphold, and it carries these virtues into its kitchen," he explained. "It's just a shame that standard happens to be a rather low one!" he joked, before pointing out several of the academic buildings to the new student and explaining what went on within their steely walls.
"At least, their vegertarian options certainly leave much to be desired," he said, darting back to his earlier point of discussion as the pair rounded a corner.
Nae worries there, Freddie-boy. This lightning-slinger is near strictly carnivorous, garnish non-withstanding. Although, again, he kept that to himself. He'd found that Veggie's could be awful precious about how many cows he'd gone and devoured.
"I can't say I've tasted the meat but..." he grimaced, a mischievous glimmer in his eye as he recalled the...
Unappealing nature of the meat produce on offer. He often wondered if the mystery proteins on offer could even be classified as meat at all. Snapping his focus back to Tommy, he pointed up ahead.
"That's the canteen." he explained, before mentally kicking himself. The large lettering above the door meant that the building was easily identifiable to anyone with a pair of eyes. Tommy, like everyone else at this damn school, was going to identify Freddie as a class-A idiot. He managed not to sigh.
Tommy arched a blonde eyebrow at his guide pointing out the obvious, but stopped himself from making any other comment. Nobody ever got to be on the
'most popular' list by being a smug prick to the guy trying to be helpful. Not that he was all that fussed for being popular, but as his old da used to say, 'it's nice to be nice.'
"Shall we?" He held the canteen door open for Freddie, gentleman that he was, and the two entered. The smell of cooking breakfasts foods was thick in the air, bacon and eggs most prominent, Tommy's stomach growling in anticipation.
Getting breakfast cooked fer me every morning? That I can get used tae.That said, it was quickly apparent that delicous aromas wasn't the only thing on the air. Sounded like there was a riot in progress, a lot of screaming, chanting and shouting coming from the main hall. Surely that wasn't the norm for these kids?
Hi-Voltage senses tingling. . . . Shite am I glad I didna say that out loud. Without waiting on much ado he headed for the commotion, pushing open the inner doors and seeing. . .
An orange skined angel, radiant as a summer morning, fly across the mess and smash some guy in the face with all the force of a runaway truck. He took it like a champ, but still, it looked like he'd have one hell of a shiner in the morning. Tommy took a step forward, ready to intervene, until he realized nobody else seemed all that non-plussed. Surely these kids were all here to be training as heroes, they wouldn't just stand back and watch this go down. Would they? Maybe this was some kinda weird Corrigan's morning ritual, practicing for super-villain showdowns maybe. Christ, he was confused. He glanced over to Freddie, looking for some sorta guidance.
"Is this. . . Normal?" Freddie rolled his eyes as they stepped into the canteen and his gaze absorbed the chaos that unfurled before him.
'Not this shit again,' he cursed under his breath. His lips quickly twisted into a slight grin as he watched Marian'dr punch S'tann square in the face, her energised first throwing the martian across the cafeteria. It was at this moment that Tommy seemed tempted by the ruckus, and for a split second Freddie was certain the school's newest arrival would cave and be sucked into the violent maelstrom that raged on.
Fortunately, it seemed Tommy had better sense, turning to Freddie with a look that was perplexed, to say the least. Freddie, his face still plastered with an odd sense of pride in seeing his friend pull of such brutish behaviour in a way only she could manage, simply smiled.
"Well, usually we save it for the ARC," he said, smirking. "I've never been much of a boxer, so I tend to just observe," he joked, taking a seat and kicking his feet up on the table, leaning back as his hands clasped the back of his head. "Don't worry, it'll blow over soon. Mari can handle herself--"
As the words left his mouth, it was as if he'd temporarily borrowed Amethyst's powers and directed them at his friend, as the Martian headbutted her violently and threw her to the ground with such force that the tiles shattered and scattered upon her impact. Instinctively, Freddie leapt into action, almost tripping over himself as he sped to Mari's side.
"Mari!" he yelled, crouching beside her on the ruined floor. "Are you OK?"
"Definitely not normal then," Tommy muttered to himself, vaulting to his feet after Freddie and following him to Mari's side, hovering awkwardly and feeling very much like the spare prick at the wedding.
Welcome to Corrigan's school for Advanced Learning and Development, Tommy-Boy, where we learn how to rattle the Jesus outta each other.