Start of Something Great (Liam)

[Simon Alexandre]

It was one of Simon's better days. He had yet to experience any flashbacks and he'd managed to get some proper sleep for what felt like the first time since he'd gotten on the island. That is to say that it was the first night in a long time without the dreams. Unfortunately, sleeping had re-energized his tingling nerves and sent them panicking at even the slightest of movements, but, despite this, it was still the best he'd felt in a long time. He was almost glad to be so jumpy. Regardless, the good night's rest had inspired him to go looking for Liam Dalton, who was someone that Simon had heard about from his fellow prefects. According to them, Liam had a team of prefects that he had been training. He'd asked around about him to try and get some more information, and Simon found himself attracted to the idea. He had always felt his own inexperience would somehow harmed his teammates, and he strived to get rid of that plaguing unfamiliarity. However, Artemis always seemed far too busy to train with him on a regular basis, and the last thing he wanted was to bother her. So, all morning, Simon had been scouring the campus for that one student who promised that daily training. He'd checked the prefect lounge, the library, the courtyard, and now he stood facing the door to the gym. That was his last guess to where Liam would be.

With a heavy sigh, Simon opened the door just a crack and peered in. Many students occupied the equipment, but he couldn't get a good enough look of their faces. It was too bad: he'd hoped it would be an 'in and out' mission. So, with a hesitant grumble, Simon slipped through the opened door and weaved through the maze of treadmills. Every movement of his was slow and stealthy as he swung his head around, terrified of the curious eyes that may land upon him. Luckily, he wouldn't have to stay much longer if Liam wasn't there, as he'd been given a brief description of what this 'Liam' boy looked like. Allegedly, Liam was somewhat easy to recognize with black hair that transitioned to white and drooped down in front of his sapphire eyes. He was also above average height, but almost everyone was tall to the silver-haired boy so that was irrelevant. Regardless, Simon wasn't sure how confident he was in actually being able to find him. But, just as he prepared to turn around and head back to his dorm in defeat, he spotted someone who fit the description to the tee.

The boy was concentrating hard: Simon could see it from the slight creases above his eyebrows. Hovering targets rotated around him, and he shifted in to a fighting stance. After a few moments of calm, the boy exploded into action. He assaulted the targets with streams of kicks and punches, demonstrating dexterity and power that he must've practiced for years. Simon stilled, becoming little more than an observer. He had been practicing over the past couple of months himself and was proud to say that he learned more techniques than what came from his wrestling skills, but he was far from being on the level of this prefect. It was almost intimidating to be even within such a distance of him, and Simon felt the increasing need to flee. He would just waste the boy's time and disappoint him: he could never be as good as that. But, as Liam slowed to a stop and Simon fancied that they made brief eye contact, the silver-haired boy swallowed his discomforts and approached. He had no other choice.

"Liam Dalton, yes? I hope I'm not interrupting," Simon started, struggling to keep his voice calm. What if he wasn't the prefect? And, well, what if he was, but he wasn't a safe person to be around? This boy could hurt him, as he demonstrated on the circling targets. It didn't help that 'Liam' towered over the short boy, and his lean form was evident even through clothing. Simon kept his own muscles tensed and ensured he had a slight bend in his knees, preparing to move away in an instant. He'd learned his lesson. "I'm from Team D. Simon Alexandre. I heard that you are training a group of prefects," he continued, pausing to regain confidence, "Uh, have you been looking to take new recruits at all?" The silver-haired prefect rubbed the back of his neck, leaving the question to hang in the air. His violet eyes remained locked in place on the other boy, but he felt himself almost trembling in his presence. The voice of his insecurities taunted him, warning him of the rejection that was likely to come, but Simon had no choice but to stand there and await it.

[Liam Dalton]

As the doors closed behind him, Liam stepped into the otherwise empty training arena. His Prefect badge held tightly in hand. His eyes falling shut as he remembered everything his mentor, and the academy had taught him. The long grueling hours of studying, training and practice brawls returning to him. They made him into a solider. He fought where he was told. And he won where he fought. It didn't matter if he hated it. It didn't matter if he despised hurting others. It didn't mattered if innocents died around him. All the mattered was that he followed his orders, and anything else was considered a weakness. After all, any unfairness, and loss that he encountered was because of his own weakness, it was his fault.  

The words of his former self echo'd within his head relentlessly. Like a shadow whispering taunts into his ears. "All the disadvantage in this world stems from a person's lack of ability." He had said to Liam during his fight with Rex before returning to the depth of his subconscious, and relinquishing control of their back to the Prefect. His jaw clenched, as his fingers tighten around the silver badge in a death-like grip. Turning his knuckles bone white. The negative emotions of the other persona balled up within, and Liam did his best to turn it into motivation. 

He couldn't give into the darkness within... He didn't want to fade away. To leave behind everyone that he come to care about, and love like his own family. The targets started to set them around Liam as mauled over those words, and how he didn't want to lose his team. He just hoped that if he did disappeared that he would remember them. And then the moment the targets begun their rotation around him, Liam jumped into action, and started to bring down the targets. The two rows that hovered around them were quickly knock away with quick and power punches and kicks. And with each blow Liam's body yelled in protest. With the warps that covered his torso, and upper-arms and legs restricting his movements.

However, Liam pushed through it, and managed to hit each hand-sized circle quickly. "That round showed an 8% increase over your last one. Congratulations." The feminine voice of the computer reported to him. Appraising him for his bettered results. The two-toned-haired Prefect let out a small groan once his breathing returned to normal. His sides aching from moving so quickly, but Liam wasn't done yet. He opened his mouth to ask the computer to restart the program, but just as he started to move his lips, he made brief eye contact with someone. A silver-haired boy who seemed to have been watching the Trainer. 

A small blush grew on his features as he move his hand to the back of his head, and started to scratch it. Trying to comfort himself before the stranger approached him. Once he had, Liam stayed quiet as the kid introduced himself. His expression calm, and neutral, while maintain a sense of gentleness that the Prefect Trainer was known for. Only changing when Simon had mentioned that he was D team. Artemis's team. Even then it was nothing more than his eyes widening slightly.

"....." He stayed silent for a moments as he thought over everything the boy said. His contact-covered eyes staring at the younger boy with the type intensity that one might expect from a kind teacher. As if Liam was studying the boy, and that he could easily see the insecurities within him. How could he not? Liam himself was plagued with them, and he built his entire team around the idea of overcoming them with trust, and love for your teammate. "Interviews for my team were held a while back." He stated matter-of-factually. And he stayed a quiet for a moment longer to let the silver-haired boy think over his lack of foresight, but soon Liam smiled gently. "But of course you can join. Anyone who is willing to learn, train, and join a family are always welcomed."

And with that said - Liam moved back to the center of the mat before waving for Simon to come join him. "And training starts now." He said as he slipped into a fighting stance. "And I'll even give you first move."
 

[Simon Alexandre]

The other boy's face gave no indication of his internal thoughts. His expression was neutral as Simon spoke, although there was a certain gentleness that came with it. It likely came from his eyes, but those were also what bothered Simon the most about the other prefect. They were the only things that didn't fit the description he’d been given about the boy. It was possible that his 'sapphire' hues were hidden behind those chocolate contacts, but there was also the more drastic possibility that the boy wasn't who he was looking for. If he wasn't, well, he wasn't safe. Simon shifted from one foot to the other and a crease of concern formed between his eyebrows. His movements were stiff from the tension in his muscles but it was impossible for him to relax. His lower shoulders chimed in with an obnoxious aching, likely from the countless knots running along his back. A grimace tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Interviews for my team were held a while back."

Surprise, dimwit. What did you think would happen? Simon gritted his teeth, pursed his lips, and withdrew further into himself. The silence seemed to draw on forever, and Simon opened his mouth to apologize and take his leave when the other boy interrupted his thought. Simon closed his mouth and watched the boy's expression with distrustful eyes. Liam's tone had become much more gentle and benevolent, but that only caused Simon's violet eyes to narrow further. The switch of speech from one of disdain to one of kindness wasn't something he was accustomed to. It created a feeling of discontent in his stomach and a fear of the unpredictability. But, deducing that it was likely some sort of test, Simon released some tension in his shoulders.

Soon, Liam started to shift towards a nearby mat and beckoned him over. Simon's eyes widened and a knot swelled in his stomach. He already believed that Liam could likely send him running (crawling?) for the nurse, and deciding to give the boy an excuse to do just that felt wrong. Simon wasn’t sure what he should do. Out of habit, the prefect ripped the red skin peeling around his damaged nails and blood smeared across his fingers. It soon turned to a thick crust that caked the top of his fingertips, but Simon still didn’t notice. He was too busy watching Liam with his suspicious owl eyes.

Simon didn’t trust him. That much was obvious, and it didn’t take long for the silver-haired boy to come to that conclusion. Now, engaging with an individual that Simon didn’t trust wasn’t an uncommon thing to do by any means, but Simon usually never offered them power over him. By agreeing to a spar, well, he was doing just that. There were very little things that he hated more than being vulnerable. But, on the other hand, he’d come to find a prefect trainer for a reason. All Simon wanted to do was keep up with his teammates and avoid disappointing them – avoid failing them. That had been labelled as his primary goal. If he didn’t do this, how could he get any better? Creases of discomfort formed across the silver-haired boy’s face.

With hesitation, Simon followed Liam to the mat. Each step was slow, deliberate, and reluctant. Like a squirrel approaching an extended hand, he was prepared to jump away at a moment’s notice. His eyes narrowed further and he shifted so that his knees were bent in a stance that resembled the other prefect’s. His right foot was forward with his left foot back to create balance and his hands hovered by his jawline. Unlike Liam, though, his legs were trembling under his weight and threatening to give way. Simon shuddered, but tried to pass it off by beginning to bounce on his toes. He would need that explosiveness anyways.

Just as Liam requested, Simon took the first move. It wasn’t something that he did often (since he tended to be the one being attacked) and therefore it felt a little awkward for him. That was made obvious through his almost unorthodox approach and his hesitance. With a shift in his weight that made his intents clear, Simon used the energy that came from his bouncing to launch himself forward. While doing so, he shot out his front foot in a kick towards the area just above Liam’s waist, holding back a lot of his power in exchange for speed. He wasn’t sure if it was just a light contact spar or not, and he’d rather not risk his leg getting caught. Simon kept his fists up close to his jaw and (hopefully) leapt back into a fighting stance to bounce on his toes again, his gaze unfaltering.


(Merry Christmas!)

[Liam Dalton]

Some people were difficult to read; they closed off their emotions, and kept their thoughts to themselves. For one reason or another - they didn't want to be seen, but when it comes to a place like Ashford, keeping to yourself was an easy way to bring much unwanted attention to you. The ones that were truly hard to read, they gave just enough of themselves so that others could barely scratch the surface. Things like likes and dislikes were shown, and other swallow traits were clearly shown, but the ocean of depth was cleverly kept out of sight. The core of their personality, the thing(s) that drove them were hidden from the world.

Liam was one of these people. He shared his love of books, and his desire to protect his family to the world. His face was clear to everyone who cared to look, but the scars that decorated his body and mind, were kept hidden from all.

Simon was not one of these people. His wore his insecurities, fear, doubt and distrust on his sleeve, and Liam, as perceptive as he was, was able to clearly see all of them. The way he shifted his weight back, and forth would have been enough for Liam to hypothesis the emotions the other boy was feeling, but the concern crease on his brow pretty much sealed the deal. And for a moment Liam's eyes shifted to his bag resting on the bench. His thoughts immediately going the King Arthur storybook within it, and how much Simon had reminded him of how the King's had begun to distrust his friends near the end of his reign, and how it lead to a self destructive path led to the fall of the Greatest Kingdom, and of the "Chosen King"

It was then that Liam's had his confirmation in his decision. Simon needed to be surrounded by people he could call more than teammates. He needed to be surrounded by friends, a family that could show him love and comfort. And Liam's team might not have been perfect. But He still did his best to protect them, and teach them how live in this world. The Prefect Trainer could do the same for Simon as well. 

However, Liam still needed to prod the younger boy just a little bit more. He still needed to see how self-destructive the platinum-haired teen was before Liam could deduce the best way to help him. And everybody had be handful differently. For Rei, they played a friendly game on the beach to show that Liam trusted her, and cared for her as much as the other two. Kia might have been simply a sit-down session, but the chance for them to share, and comfort each other. So show her that Liam was someone she could depend on. They were, for the most part, easy. 

However, this boy reminded him a lot of Darius. They were both plagued with insecurities, but they both handles them very differently, and very similarly. Darius feared his own arrogance and failure, and set incredibly high goals for him to reach. He desperately wanted to be recognized for his efforts and successes more than anything. Which could be extremely destructive. Liam thought he could try to help Darius by bringing him alone with him on a mission, but that had backfired. Still, they held a healthy relationship with each other, and Liam had the utmost faith in the boy.

And Simon seemed to be the same. "You don't trust me." Liam stated bluntly as he glanced at the boy's fingernails. "You're afraid that I'll hurt you, and that you're allowing me to have power over you." His eyes shifted to the boy's bouncing feet right before he went to kick Liam, and then in one shift move; the two-honed haired Prefect turned to the side to avoid the kick, and before any observers could blink Liam dashed forward, and aimed a full-force punch at the boy's face. His muscles growing stronger as RC cells flooded his body. Creating a blow that could easily kill, or maim a normal person. Causing the immediate area to grow cold with the intent to kill that even the other occupants of the room could feel. 

Touching their basic survival instincts - all of them turned to watch Liam and Simon. The former with his fist less then a centimeter away from Simon's nose before he pulled away, and jumped back. Recreating the previous space between them.

[Simon Alexandre]

Now, if you asked most people, they might say that they enjoyed connecting with others and having people they met understand them. Some could even claim that it’s therapeutic and soothing to know that someone else ‘gets it’. Not Simon. The way Liam read him like a book sent a shiver down his spine, and all of Simon’s previous ‘calmness’ went out of the window. He tugged with more ferocity at his nails and his eyes narrowed, although he couldn’t bring himself to look at the other boy in the eyes. His breathing quickened and regret settled in the pit of his stomach. He should never have come. The hissing mistress of dread slithered up to him, and he could feel her cold touch on his shoulder. Simon struggled to think of something to justify his distrustful behaviour, but his throat dried out and his thoughts were no help. Instead, a quiet, “No, sir” was uttered, although his voice was little more than a croak. He had to take a moment to pause before he gathered himself once more and began bouncing on his toes. His gaze hardened with resolve and, soon, any indication of his previous discontent slipped away. But still, the hand of dread tightened its grip on the boy.

As soon as Simon launched his kick forward, Liam was already moving. His own kick had been a weak one, so the prefect didn't have a problem with no contact coming from it. He still wasn’t sure whether or not he was meant to attack with full force. But, as Simon’s foot landed forward he found himself confronted with something he hadn’t expected: a fist in front of his nose. The wind from the punch whistled past his ears, and Simon’s heart stopped. It only took a split second for him to realize that that punch would’ve smashed through his nose. It may have even knocked him out, even with his durability. Not just that, but it was also about a centimetre from his face.


Every muscle inside of his body froze, and Simon knew he’d lost control over them. Time slowed and he felt eyes from all around flicker to them. What had been the point of…? He paused, eyes widening and goose bumps prickling across his neck along his spine. Is this a setup? All form of rationality slipped from his mind and a fresh wave of paranoia replaced it. He didn’t even quite register as Liam pulled away. “Are they…?” he started under his breath, trailing off as he realized he’d spoken out loud. His wild eyes flickered over to the other students in the room, scanning each of them in preparation for them to attack. It didn’t take long for his gaze to return to Liam, though, in fear he might throw another punch. Simon was no longer bouncing on his toes, instead his movements had stopped and his heart thudded against his chest. He couldn’t move, even if he’d wanted to. You're pathetic.

And in the blink of an eye, Simon’s day turned to shit. His stance wavered and his hands clenched into fists, but his gaze was never still. It jumped around at the crowd without rest as Simon struggled to ensure his own safety. You're worthless. His frown deepened. As his eyes settled on Liam, though, a thought ran through his head. Maybe the point of the punch was to show Simon he wouldn’t get hurt. Once it had sprouted, the idea grew and it began to make sense. His paranoia still reigned, but he felt control over his body return. His muscles loosened and he found his eyes resting back on Liam’s. However, his eyebrows were still knitted together, and he couldn't stop from chewing on his own lip. Now, the next problem had arisen: Liam had already proven himself to be perceptive. Furthermore, he must’ve noticed Simon’s behaviour, and made a judgement about his character. You're a waste of space. He was already fucking things up.

Silence settled between the two of them and Simon fumbled with his hands. His legs shook and he sucked in a deep breath of air. “Sorry,” he murmured, though his eyes were unfocused. He tried to convince himself to attack to continue the spar, to go for a punch or a kick or anything, but he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. You're a failure. His chest clenched and he bit his tongue, beads of sweat forming across the back of his neck. “Look, I,” he hesitated, scouring the crowd once more. You’re wasting his time. Each hair along his arms stood up and he shrunk under Liam’s watchful gaze. “I’m not good at this,” he breathed, violet eyes meeting brown, “I’ve never been a…fighter.” You're disgusting. “Sorry.”

[Liam Dalton]

The spectators kept watching - dozens of eyes observing any movements that the two men might have made. It might have seemed bizarre on the surface with everyone dropping whatever they were doing, but this was Ashford. And everyone knew what the sensation they felt meant. That familiar chill that sent shivers down the spine, and caused a shortness of breath. Liam's bloodlust had been released. The desire to kill poured from the typically docile commander in that instant.

Simon might of escaped with a bloody nose had Liam actually connected. But nobody in the room would have argued that, in that moment, that he had any other intentions other than taking the boy's life. "No. They aren't going to hurt you." Liam said in a calm, and collected tone. All traces of malice gone from his body. "The people here... they are alot like you." As he spoke, the young man's eyes shifted to other Prefect's feet. Noticing how his leg shook before examining the rest the his body - reading it like some written language that told the truth about the boy. "On edge. Aware of their surroundings. It's a part of living here." His brown softening as he spoke as if he was recalling from memory.    

Then Simon was apologizing - nervously explaining how dislike for fighting. "It's okay." A pause. "It is not a sin to fight for the right cause" Every word holding reassurance in them as Liam walked forward, and gently placed his hand on the boy's head. "But...  There are those who words alone will not reach." It pained the Prefect Trainer to say it, but if anyone knew how true these words were. "You do not like to hurt. I know this because I feel the same way..." He said with a small smile. "However, it is because we cherish life that we must protect it." He then slowly pulled away, and moved back to his side of the mat. 

"And remember this if you ever doubt yourself." Another pause. "You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

[Simon Alexandre]

No matter how much he wanted to pull away, Simon forced himself to keep his gaze on the other boy. That is not to say that he looked at the Liam’s eyes - no, he couldn’t bring himself to do that even now. Instead, he found himself staring at the taller prefect’s chin, quivering. He had nodded along to the explanation of why his knees shook, voice too weak to argue even if he’d wanted to. The sound of the wind whistling past his ears kept running through his head again and again, taunting him. In his peripheral vision, each spectator’s face contorted and became someone he could never forget. His blood ran cold. No matter how many times he blinked, the familiar faces never vanished. Their grins only grew wider, and the sweat running down his neck felt thick, like blood. His heart quickened. The island. Just a part of living here. That’s all. He only wished he could believe it.

Then Liam began to talk again. Simon’s attention snapped back onto the prefect trainer, blinking frantically. One hand shot up to rub at his eyes. They were open again in seconds, damp. He still saw him standing on the sides. And yet, Liam’s voice was encouraging and calm. Though the contrast unsettled Simon at first, it was a much-needed reassurance. He slowed his breathing for a moment, concentrating on listening. He knew that’s what he needed to do; he needed to focus on the world around him. That slowed the thoughts down and made it somewhat manageable. Well, sometimes. Other times, the surroundings made it worse. His heart slowed.

Then, Liam moved towards him and reached for his head. Instinct took over and the silver-haired prefect flinched. His breath caught in his throat. Like a petrified animal, he stopped moving. His heart thumped in his throat, and he didn’t move a muscle. Liam continued to speak, but Simon found great difficulty in hearing. Each second was an eternity, and yet he did not dare to blink. To say that Simon was not a 'touchy' person was an understatement. The moment the boy pulled away, Simon’s posture straightened again, though his puffed eyes remained narrowed even as the other boy moved across the mat. Visibly, though, he’d grown much more relaxed with the new distance between them. His shoulders slumped, and now only his hands trembled. It was over and the boy couldn’t have been more grateful. Now, maybe, he could think. And so, he paused for a moment to run over what Liam had said in his head. “Sir, how do you know?”

Simon had started to speak with confidence, but it soon faltered as he back-pedalled, “n-not that you don’t, I’m not saying that... I’m sure y-you know more than I do.” He sucked in much-needed air, scolding himself for his own struggles.“But… we — er, I, never can actually know if what I’m fighting for is right.” His jaw twitched and he rubbed again at his still-burning eyes, hesitating as he fumbled for an explanation. “I know it’s wrong to think that way, but, y’know, everyone has their own way of living. Hurting them for that…. It’s better to just, well, defend people from pain rather than cause it. I, uh, I mean that’s just what I think, of course, that might not be very realistic. I don’t know.” Simon’s voice quivered, and as he finished he gave off a heavy sigh. He had no desire to address Liam's final point - such things were better to just be avoided. Only moments after, though, his eyes widened and his shoulders tensed as he realized the possible implications of what he'd said. “I, uh, I mean I wouldn’t disobey orders, of course. They’re important, and I put, er, personal issues aside for them.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I...I guess I dragged that a little off topic, though. Uh, sorry, we can get back to, um, whatever." English. Speak fucking english, idiot.

[Liam Dalton]

It would seem that Liam's words had fallen on deaf ears - The Prefect Trainer let out a small sigh, as he moved back to his original position. It was going to be difficult to help Simon overcome his anxiety and self-doubt. To help the young man face his demons. But that was where the problem lied - the silver-haired teenager reminded Liam so much of himself. He would have to face his own monsters before he could guide Simon through it. "I'm here. I'm still here." The voice screamed within his head as if on cue. A shudder rolled through the young man. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Along with being accompanied by goosebumps spreading against his skin.

However, Liam didn't show any other signs of his distress. The black-and-white-haired Prefect forced himself to keep his breathing even. Calming his nerves enough so that he could keep focus on what Simon had said. His eyes moving every few seconds to notice the boy's body language. "No. You're right Simon." Liam said with a small smile. "But before we continue this conversation... how about we sit down first? my legs are killing me." He gestured over to an empty part of the bleachers. Then moved over to them without another word, and sat down next to his gym bag.

He pulled a water bottle from it shortly afterwards. Taking a moment to carefully think over his words before speaking. "To be completely honest.... I do- I can't know if we're on the right side." Unable to bring himself to look up. Liam's gaze moved down to his hands as he opened and closed them. "I can't know because there is no such thing as 'the right side'." A pause. "The Prefects fight to keep the peace. The Battlefront fight for freedom... Both of which are noble things to battle over." He then raised his left hand up into the air about chest high, with the palm facing upwards. Like a scale. "But each side as taken lives. Murdered, maimed, and ripped entire families apart." The right hand rose as well. "See? No matter how much good we do by fighting. We do just as much evil." 

"That includes me as well." A another pause. "I've killed dozens of people simply because I was ordered to... I'd never ask you to take another life. But if you do join - you'll have to live with seeing it face-to-face." Liam then extended his hand. "But we'll help you face the hardships. You won't ever be alone again, and you will be stronger than you ever imagine."

[Simon Alexandre]

A shudder passed through the other boy’s body, though it was so subtle that Simon almost didn’t notice. The silver-haired prefect paused and he raised an eyebrow, but soon shrugged it off. Perhaps he was just cold. Simon brought his fingers to his mouth and chewed on his nail, just as the other began to move over to the bleachers. His hand fell to his side and he followed behind, eyes digging into the other boy’s back in fear that he might yet attack. As they approached the bleachers, though, his shoulders loosened. Liam had chosen a section void of other students, and Simon couldn’t be more thankful. It meant that he had one less thing to worry about. Still, Simon hesitated to even sit down, even though his knees trembled and threatened to give way. His eyes were wide as he watched Liam take out a water bottle, surveying the gym bag as if its contents were malicious. After what felt like a decade, he sat down next to Liam, but still his violet eyes remained on the other. Liam’s words were spoken with a certain delicateness, as if he was fearful that they would break if spoken too loud. Simon’s eyes blinked over to the other’s raised hands, nodding along. 

Then, Liam said he’d killed dozens. Simon’s gut twisted. He knew many teenagers on the island had been forced to mature by taking another’s life, but he never thought one would admit it with such ease. As if it were…normal. His mouth was dry and his stomach flipped, however, his expression did not change. He knew that it was something he’d have to deal with seeing, especially since Liam reaffirmed that with his statement. It helped calm him to think how close he’d come to it himself. That is, until he remembered why. His jaw twitched.

“I-I can do that.” Simon dipped his head in acknowledgement, placing his hands beside him on the bleacher’s bench. “But, yeah, I, er, I don’t think I could take another’s life.” Simon was quiet, and his toes curled in his shoes, feet beginning to cramp. He wrinkled his nose. “Uh, s-so, thanks.” Simon’s gaze had lost some of its intensity, but, still, he couldn’t help but watch the other prefect with narrowed eyes. “I do need to get better, as I’m sure you…could tell.” He grimaced, fingers tapping against his knee. He still hated admitting it, though he knew it was true. He sighed. A crease formed between his eyebrows as he thought about Liam’s last comments, and he didn’t respond for a moment. His frown deepened. Finally, he seemed to make some decision about them, and he took a long, deep breath, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants.

“W-what about the…others? What’re they like?” His heart quickened, slamming against his rib cage. He didn’t want to think about it; even just being around his own team caused his fear to amplify. New people were never good. Sensing the rising dread in his throat, Simon swallowed and focused on his breathing. “H-how many are there?”

[Liam Dalton]

"I've killed dozens of people simply because I was ordered to..."

It needed to be said - It was something that Simon deserved to know about his new teacher. That the very hands that could mold him into a fighter were also soaked in blood. 

The Commander's eyes glanced over the boy's body - looking for a reaction. However, if the younger Prefect had any, Liam couldn't tell. "Oh thank god" He responded with a sigh of relief. Simon hesitance to kill was like a ton of bricks falling off Liam's back. The tension in his shoulders eased, and he sat up straighter. "Um, I mean... It's okay. I don't want that type of life for any of you anyways." The Commander said with a soft chuckle. His fingers scratching top of his neck to try, and comfort himself. His words were true, but Liam would be lying if he said he wasn't relieved that Simon wasn't a blood hungry psychopath.

Then the conversation moved back to Simon's insecurities - Liam took a deep breath before speaking up. "Maybe, but I also know that any strength you may lack, you make up with raw talent." The Prefect said matter-of-factually. After all, Liam whole-heartedly believed it. He was a little rough around the edges sure, but with a skilled hand molding him. Simon could be shaped into a diamond. 

Liam's mind stayed on the thought. Following the train to each of his students - thinking of ways he could further guide him. Only coming out of it when Simon asked about them. "Oh uh.." A pause. "There are three of them." Liam paused again. Taking a moment to think how to describe the others. "Well... All of them are good people with their hearts in the right place. But they also have their little quirks like anybody." He said slowly, making sure to take time to carefully plan out his words. Liam love and adored his students, but to say they could be a overwhelming would be an understatement. 

[Simon Alexandre]

Simon only nodded as the other spoke, though his hollow insides could not be made full by any compliment, especially ones he felt were false. However, it was pointless to argue and he kept his mouth shut until Liam answered his question. When he did, the prefect rubbed at his shoulder and pursed his lips. Though his eyes were trained on the other, they didn’t see him. “Three,” he echoed, but his voice wasn’t above a whisper. Three was three too many for Simon’s liking, and he couldn’t help but concern himself over how he’d watch them all for malicious intent at the same time. But, Liam seemed to trust them. Simon’s eyes passed over the other once more, and a shiver ran down his spine. Could he trust him? ”I’ve killed dozens of people…” The other’s nonchalant voice resounded through Simon’s head and his shoulders tightened. Simon just… didn’t know. But, he had approached the teenager for help, and planning methods of escape wasn’t going to help Simon get any better.

Despite this, Simon couldn’t resist the urge to flee. He needed time to recollect, and the fatigue that latched on to his skin was dragging him closer to the floor with each passing moment. So, he searched for an opportunity. “Right, uh, well, I hope I’ll meet them soon,” he said, tasting the words on his tongue. He was itching to stand despite the tiredness weakening his limbs. Still, he avoided meeting the gaze of the other boy, eyes drifting around his other facial features. After a moment of pause, he finally pushed himself to his feet. Swaying, he kept his front facing Liam and the gym in front of them. That way, he could keep a watchful eye on things. “T-thanks, y’know, for being willing to teach me and everything.” Simon watched the other with a careful gaze, searching his expression for any dismissal. He never knew what to expect, for his gentle behaviour seemed like it might change any second. “When should we start- er, continue the training?” His legs had begun to tremble under his weight, and he struggled to hold a straight back.