Marking Territory (Stephen)

[Sergei Tepish]

Sergei opened the door to the room he'd be staying for the length of his stay at Ashford, it wasn't as fancy as the rooms he was used to but he'd made due with much worse. Someone had told him he'd be having a roommate and from what Sergei could see whoever it was didn't put extreme effort in cleaning it, the room wasn't completely dirty but nothing was in order. But after looking around he found long boxes with cardboard envelopes, he picked up one of them and slid out the contents, a comic book in a plastic envelope. A smirk worked it's way onto his face. "At least he keeps his priorities straight." Sergei slipped it carefully back into place and tossed his coat on the floor. With nothing better to do he flopped down on one of the beds and crossed his arms above his head. "Well I best just make the best of things. I mean at least it's not the woods again." He grunted as the scars on his chest and back started to act up, even a year later they still burned at the thought of the woods. "This is just another challenge and I've faced worse."

[Stephen Paulinski]

     Stephen yawned. It had been a long day. He had gotten lost, again. He had gotten in trouble for being late, again. He had gotten laughed at for being late, again. And it’s not like this all just happened once this day, either. It had happened. Every. Single. Freakin’. Period. What Stephen needed right now was a nice comic book or twelve, and a nap.

     Stephen kept his head down as he opened up the door to his room. He was lost in thought, happily imagining the colorfully clad heroes and the fantastic adventures that awaited his excited imagination. So, without looking around his room, or acknowledging that the room suddenly and inexplicably smelled like wet dog, Stephen rushed to the nearest longbox. When he reached it, he paused.

     He had not put that longbox there. Stephen tapped his chin thoughtfully. Had someone moved it? Naw, he thought, that’s impossible. I don’t have a roommate. He shrugged and thought nothing of it. With an excited grin, he took off the long box's lid. Stephen paused again.

     One of his comics had been tampered with. It wasn’t just any comic, either. It was Green Lantern #20. His favorite. Nothing was wrong with it, per say, (the plastic sleeve that contained the issue was only slightly wrinkled) it’s just that Stephen could tell that someone had touched his things. One of his most favorite things. Without his permission. Stephen slowed his quickening breath, feeling his arms beginning to itch. Whoever touched my stuff is gonna pay soooooooo much…

     Freakin’ really, man? Stephen’s rational side chuckled, It’s just a comic book. Calm down. Stephen’s angry side just grumbled in reply, yielding easily to his calm, level-headed side. Besides, he continued, You probably left the door open or something. If anything, it’s your fault someone could get to your collection. It’s not like you have a roommate or something that could just open up the door…

     Stephen sighed, picking up six issues of a story arc that he had been meaning to reread for some time. Piling the six issues into his arms, Stephen backed up to his bed and sat down.

     “Huh, this bed’s a bit lum-” He looked down and saw that he was sitting on some guy who was sleeping on his bed. “OH MY GOD!” Stephen shouted in surprise. He shot up as his hands burst into orange flame. Stephen stood in terrified shock momentarily as he saw his beloved comics begin to go up in flames. In a panicked attempt to save them, Stephen threw the issues onto the floor in front of him, but it was too late. The now blacked pages fluttered all around the room like confetti.

     Stephen began to shake. He was was way beyond pissed. He was infuriated. Stephen felt his arms begin to itch once again. “Okay,” he began in a quiet, trembling voice, “Three things...” Stephen, with his back to the new arrival, stuck out three finger to indicate the number of points he had. Hey, hey, take it easy, he thought to himself.

     “One…” he began his list by sticking out his index finger, still trying to remain calm, “You’re paying for those.” I’m going to let this guy have it! his animalistic side yelled. “Two…” he continued, sticking up his index and his middle finger, “Who the hell are you?” “And three...” His shaking began to worsen, the itching in his arms becoming unbearable. His emotional side and his rational side began a war in his mind. I’m going to let him have it! No, you can’t do that. I’m going to let him have it! Just take it easy, man. He’s going to pay! Dude, you can solve this, but you need to calm down! F*** you, man, I’m taking over! I’m getting sh*t done!

     Stephen whipped around, his forearms engulfed in yellow fire. “WHY THE F*** ARE YOU SLEEPING ON MY BED?!” Stephen stood in front of the intruder, breathing audibly, waiting angrily for the new guy’s response.

[Sergei Tepish]

Sergei was jolted from his sleep by a the force of someone sitting on him. As they both bolted out of the bed he could feel the hair coming down his neck and arms. "WHY!? Why would you not look before you sat down?! I wasn't even covered!" He could feel the rest of his features turn slightly canine At the three demands the guy made Sergei scoffed. "One. I can pay for that easily. Two, I am Sergei Vladaslous Tepish eldest son of the Tepish household and who are you? Three, I'm living here!" The R sound at the end of his sentence rolled into a growl. Normally he would have apologized but at this point he was tired and had no wish to be polite. "I was tired and like most of this room it was messy so I couldn't tell which bed wasn't being lived in!" Sergei sat down on the other bed and scratched his name into the baseboard. "There, maybe that will stand out from all of this mess!"