Why on God's green Earth? (open)

[Tobias Fordson]

        Why do I have to do this? Can't I just live alone, for the most part?

        Tobias pondered to himself as he prepped himself for the event today. Of all the mandatory events that had to start after he came to the island, it had to be a social event. A "meet-and-greet" of all things. Trying not to panic wildly, he buttoned up and put on his blazer and uniform, slipping a couple small bags of trail mix into the inside pockets. He didn't trust there being enough food, especially edible food, available at the event, as he was already slow to getting there.

        Nervously putting on the finishing touches of his outfit and slipping on his necklace, he quietly left his dorm and closed the door. Taking a deep breath, Tobias turned and started slowly walking down the hallway to the auditorium. Mandatory was mandatory, after all, even if he didn't like being told what to do when it came to interacting with people. He figured he should be allowed to talk and meet people on at his own pace. I mean, one person (this could include his roommate) every month should suffice, shouldn't it? He hoped that he could just pop in, nod at a couple people like he knew them, then quietly walk out.

        As he pulled closer to the auditorium, his footsteps grew smaller and smaller. He really didn't absolutely have to do this... did he? Couldn't he just peek in and back out? That would have been the best thing that could happen to him at that moment.

        Unfortuantely, as he tentatively slowed and began to walk back, a small crowd of students started in behind him. He reflexively walked into the auditorium, apologizing in a very stuttered manner. Now he was forced into the one place he absolutely did not want to be. Tobias figured he'd attempt to at least pretend to be social. If he just kinda moped around, nobody would want to talk to him, he figured, and he could just pretend nothing happened.

        As he made his way around, he sneaked out a bag of his trail mix and popped a few pieces in, meandering towards the refreshments. For once, Tobias felt something other than gripping fear of being talked to. Now, he had a bit of resentment at the horrid displays of snacks and beverages. He quietly murmured to himself that whoever arranged this monstrosity either had no idea what they were doing or that the food and drink was their to kill everyone. Possibly both, for all Tobias knew.

        Deciding against getting a drink, he simply skulked his way to a quiet corner and tried to hide himself as best he could. He wasn't much to begin with, so maybe he could just fade into the backdrop of the wall. His fears, however, wouldn't die so easily. Just as he slouched into the wall, he heard footsteps clearly headed towards him and, trying to hide the feelings of anxiety, put on a very thin, dull face and looked up at the would-be source of said anxiety, slowly popping a few more pieces of the trail mix into his mouth.

[Marshal Bishop]

This was it, his first day of "professional education!" Marshal Bishop hopped off the helicopter (the same kind that must've dropped off everyone else before him). Single bag in hand and in full uniform he walked away turning around to wave farewell to the men in the 'copter. "Nice guys," he said to himself, noting the pleasant conversation he'd just had with the armed guard and pilot on the way in. Though still unsure how his actions planted him here.
    He pulled out a map, locating then heading towards the boy's dorm when a kid with a shiny badge stopped him. "Where'd you think you're going?" Said the teen wearing the badge, in an authoritarian-esc tone.
    "To the dorms," Marshal folded his map, tucking it under the arm holding his luggage, "right off the boat!" He said chipperly with the hint of a smile.
    "Sorry, can't let you do that," the prefect said apologetically yet still strict. "Monday's meet-n-greet, mandatory." Marshal didn't quite like being told what to do, but he didn't mind after hearing about the event. After a brief set of directions, provided by the badged student, he was on his way.

                                                                            *******

The auditorium was packed, students of all shapes, colors, and sizes covered the place. Most seemed perfectly paired off, in close groups. Obviously, those who knew each other took this as a social hour, a slight flaw in the system.
    Marshal's eyes wandered to the table with refreshments, he'd be more likely to catch conversation there. He took note of the scene, three groups of students stood there (surrounding the refreshments table,) they all knew each other well within their respective circles. The first group was loud and practically falling over themselves and each other, hysterically laughing. The second group had a girl with white hair who was putting the moves on a taller fellow, he was oblivious to her motion, seeming more interested in the cookie he was eating. The third group had been looking around suspiciously as if expecting trouble; they had obviously just spiked the punch in the middle of the day (perhaps explaining why the first group was so bubbly).
    All weren't viable for conversation. But there was one kid, in the corner who wore his scraggly (yet somewhat neat) brown hair down almost covering his eyes. He looked alone. But not quite lonely.
    Opportunity! Marshal meandered his way over, siding up to the fellow. He immediately ignored Marshal's existence by looking past him with a bland face, popping what appeared to be mixed nuts into his mouth. A move aimed to deter Marshal, it didn't work.
    "Hey." Marshal started. The word was ignored as before as the brown haired boy avoided eye contact altogether. "I wouldn't eat anything here either." Marshal stated, putting his bag down beside the boy.

[Tobias Fordson]

        Tobias had never been a very social person before. Sure, he did have friends when he was much younger, but it was only the few kids in his old neighborhood that interested him. Nobody else, especially at school, were ever really nice enough to be friends. Now, years later, this school was trying to force that onto him, it seemed. Sure, there were nice people, but not necessarily anyone he'd really consider friend material. He mused, lightly, that anyone who was friend material would probably not be here, knowing his luck.

        Tobias had not intended to ignore the first words the man had spoken. Rather, he had hoped that it was more a figment of his imagination. But no, the soft thud from the bag being set down cemented his presence in reality. Taking a better look at the guy, he was pretty tall, and his arms and legs made him out to be relatively lanky. There was a heavy impression of refinement from the guy, which almost scared Tobias even more. People that had that type of air about them were usually the ones who picked at him the most, besides jocks. But this guy seemed amicable, at the least. He gave a short nod of acknowledgement before clearing his throat so the man could hear him clearly.

        "I-it's... not anything f-from here. I m-made this m-mix mys-self. I'd sugg-gest taking a s-seat, though. It gets awf-fully crowded in h-here. A-a-and if you wa-ant any t-tr-trail mix, j-just ask."

        Ok, so he didn't die of fear talking to someone, like he thought he would in this situation, but Tobias was still very uncomfortable. So much so that his words very obviously stuttered out to the point that it was a miracle they made any kind of sentence. The only thing so far that gave some relief, however oddly, was that this guy had apparently made the same observation about the refreshments Tobias had made. Whether it was just intuition on his part or actual knowledge of prepared foods and drinks was irrelevant right now. He didn't really understand why that relieved him, though. Perhaps, he thought, he had already lost his mind and was slowly having the reality of such leak into whatever consciousness he was experiencing. But whatever the case was, Tobias decided to wait for a few more moments before speaking up again, his usually stuttery voice eeking out.

        "O-oh... my n-n-name is T-Tobias. I-it's a pl-pleas-sure to meeet yo-ou. M-may I ask why you dec-cided to come to A-A-Ashford?"

[Marshal Bishop]

Marshal had barely noticed that the young man was speaking. He was definitely the quiet kind; the sort that would be found leaned against the back corner wall of a school event. Just like now. Marshal could've been better at picking up how obvious the boy didn't want to talk. In fact, he should've been better.

Tobias offered to share what was now obviously a bag of trail mix. Marshal denied the offer with gratitude; as he didn't want to impose on another person's snack. For Marshal, there were few things more sacred than one's personal food. He was a shorter individual, but if you were Marshal you'd live a life full of short individuals.

The two of them stood there for a second, in a brief silence. Marshal began to wonder if Tobias was going to stay silent for the rest of the Meet-n-Greet. 'I guess I brought this on myself. What was I thinking, picking the one obviously preoccupied with his own thoughts.'

It was then that Marshal had decided to walk away from the conversation that died stillborn. He had bent slightly down for his suitcase, when he was startled to hear the conversation revived by the same quiet character, Tobias. Marshal turned his head, now somewhat impressed, not only with Tobias for speaking, but with himself for initiating the interaction.

Sadly the topic of conversation was not sustainable. Marshal still had ashes from his home on his shoes. Being here really wasn't about choice for Marshal. Although, the idea of "professional education" sounded incredibly thrilling to Marshal, he'd prefer to be back in that old burnt orphanage than anywhere.

But still, this was a conversation, a living, breathing, nearly viable, conversation. And so Marshal sucked in his gut and told the truth, "Really didn't have much of a say in the matter. But I heard there's great schooling." He paused, for a moment, checking over his own words, making sure he didn't say anything stupid. Satisfied with his reply, he continued, offering a handshake. "Name's Marshal.... So, what do you do for fun around here?"