The Forgotten Zodiac

Tyler immediately jumped up and ran after Sylas, glaring at Kyle over his shoulder. He would have sided with Sylas on anything even if he hadn't agreed; the fact that everyone hated Kyle just made it easier. "Sylas?" The little boy had to run to keep up because Sylas' long legs moved him so far.

"Awkward. Was it awkward enough that you'll leave?" Kyle didn't seem to have a problem with unbridled hostility. He didn't want them there, if they weren't going to be helping his research as subjects or scientists. Preferably subjects.

Sylas didn't go very far, though. He just walked, settling for walking around the building. Eventually, he shifted into a large dog and pulled Tyler onto his back, deciding to carry him for awhile. After awhile, he just gave up on that, too. He curled up behind the building, still in dog form. He didn't say anything, really, he just laid there.

Quinn glared at him a bit, but looked back down at her food. As delicious as it was, she kind of didn't want to eat much of it anymore. Subject, on the other hand, had eaten none of it in the first place. He had found a popsicle in the freezer and was enjoying that at the moment. It had been awhile since he had sweets, it was quite nice to taste them again.

Tyler sat down next to Sylas and began petting him absent-mindedly. "Don't be sad, Sylas. That person's just mean; he's mean and nasty." He looked around, glared at a squirrel, then looked back at Sylas. "Don't listen to him. We like you a lot more than he does, and the food you make is always delicious."

Michael looked up at Subject, then melted the popsicle. "No desert if you don't eat you dinner." Meaning 'I need an excuse to fight someone, and also I hate popsicles and the people who eat them.' "Eat up, it'll make Sylas happy."

"I don't care about the food," Sylas whimpered, putting his head in Tyler's lap so the boy could pet him. "But I really am tired of the name calling and the meanness of everyone..."

Subject squeaked, watching as his popcicle melted all over his hands and lap. "Ah! Now I'm all sticky, darn you..." He got up and walked over to the sink, cleaning off his hands. He looked down at his ruined pants, frowning unhappily. He glared at Michael. "Give me your pants, mister I-like-ruining-other-people's-clothes!"

Tyler kept rubbing Sylas' head and glaring at the squirrel. He wasn't sure what it had done, but it was the only living thing around to be mad at. So he glared at the squirrel. Besides, it might have been a weasel. "Yeah, people are mean. That's why I don't like them. I like you better. You're not the same as most people."

Michael looked at Subject, then shook his head. "No. I'm not taking off my pants. Besides, we're not even the same height. I'll get Kyle to find you new clothes. If you eat your soup."

"I'm not most people," Sylas sniffed. "I'm an Iyoui. That's why everyone hates me."

Subject reacted badly to Michael's demands. He swung his leg up and around, his bare foot driving into Michael's cheek, knocking him off his chair and backwards.

Quinn squeaked in horror upon seeing this. It was a bit surprising, such skillful movements coming from someone who had never displayed anything even remotely similar to violence before.

Tyler shook his head immediately and furiously, ceasing to glare at the squirrel in case his glaring killed it. "NO! I don't hate you, and Michael doesn't hate you, and Werr hates everybody, and Quinn doesn't hate you, and Subject... I don't know yet. So don't say everybody hates you." He reached down and hugged Sylas' head gently. "I like you lots."

Michael flipped backward, dodging Subject's foot, but falling out of his chair anyway. He rolled under the table and came up behind Quinn, looking cocky. "Don't make me pin you down and pour it down your throat, demon-boy."

((Aaaand Michael nicknames subject. Whatever happened to the Zodiac roleplay? Whose reply is it?))

Sylas whimpered once or twice more, and nuzzled Tyler's arm, but he fell still after that. He liked being hugged, he decided. It was definitely comforting.

"Try me, mess-maker! I may not have powers, but I can still fight, you know!" Subject took a defensive stance, lip curled in irritance.

Quinn, in the meantime, decided to move into the kitchen to finish eating her second bowl in peace.

((Yaaay. xD

I dunno, I just know that it's not my turn to post. Definitely not.))

((I don't think it's mine. It's probably Hannah or Trin's.))

Michael's response was to shove heat at the window behind Subject, then remove it all instantly. The glass shattered, spraying broken glass across the dining room. "You're welcome to try and fight me. I'll win, but I don't mind trashing you." He stepped forward, boots crunching on broken glass, and grinned at Subject, ready to fight.

((Werr should come in, pin them both with his new, non-painful powers, and then make Subject eat.))

((Probably.))

Subject hardly even flinched, keeping his eyes locked on Michael. "Come on then, you--" His sentence was cut off by a snarl of rage from the top of the stairs. Small rocks flew towards them, wrapping around the wrists and ankles of both Michael and Subject. They spread from there, forcing the two of them against separate walls.

"Can you all not just shut up for an hour or two? You make enough noise to wake the dead!" He hissed at them, not even trying to keep his heavy Russian accent masked anymore. He then coughed a bit before marching down the stairs, looking tired and very, very grumpy. "You!" He pointed at Subject, his voice returning a little towards its normal tones. "Just eat the soup. Sylas made it, so it has to be delicious. As for your pants, Quinn can wash that right out."

"But my stomach hurts..." Subject said, looking guilty and perhaps a bit ashamed of his actions. "And if I eat that soup, I'll just throw up..."

"Then you should have said so before instead of picking a fight. And you!" He turned to Michael. "What's your excuse, you loud-mouthed child? Why is it that everyone in the group seems to hate you? Probably because you make it so easy! And yet, you hang around here like a mosquito, doing nothing but irritating all of us."

He turned on heel and served himself a bowl of soup, picking a couple glass shards out before talking again. "Division is the mother of all failure. If we cannot work together, then we must split up again."

((But there was no glass in the soup. Just on the floor of the dining room. Maybe in Subject's soup, but no in the soup pot.))

Michael glared at Subject and Werr, but didn't bother trying to force his way out. Heat didn't really work on pebbles, so he didn't bother losing his dignity by fighting. "Sylas is upset as it is; Subject refusing to eat anything won't help. Lots of people don't hate me, by the way. Quinn is probably in love with me; Tyler likes me; and Subject likes everyone."

((It was a tall window? You didn't do a very good of describing this thing. I thought the table was right next to the window, soooo...))

"From what I heard, Sylas was not upset over Subject refusing to eat. Honestly, I'd rather put away leftovers than force the boy to eat something and then have to clean up the mess from his vomit." Werr tutted. "Quinn is not in love with you. To be honest, I don't think she ever got over what happened with James. As for Tyler, he's your little brother. He's supposed to like you, at least to an extent. And Subject...I'm pretty sure he's a little annoyed with you right now."

((It's a normal kitchen window. Small. Above the table, but the kitchen is separate. It would be terrible to eat soup that might have glass in it. That could kill you stone dead. STONE. DEAD. By slicing your organs open repeatedly.))

Michael managed to cross his arms to express his hatred of Werr at that moment. "Did I say Subject? I meant Subject. I really don't care what Subject thinks right now, though eventually he will discover he greatly reveres me. Quinn is in love with me. It's painfully obvious, but I don't return the feeling." He looked at Quinn, smiled sarcastically, then looked back at Werr. "Will you let me go now? I promise not to kill him. He can eat and throw up in the sink. 'Cept now there's broken glass shards in his soup, so he can't."

((Well then, forget that ever happened? oxo Also, Quinn is in the kitchen, so ha. One for one.))

"You're not forcing him to do anything." Werr shook his head, releasing Subject. He kept Michael pinned to the wall, though. "And really, I feel like leaving you there for awhile. Your chronic narcissism is terribly irritating at this time. You should come to the realization that not everyone here likes you. And honestly, if you can't get them to like you again, I'm prepared to take whoever will come with me and leave you here."

((Okay, I see the kitchen as a room that connects with the dining room because of a bar. So.))

"I'm not a narcissist. I'm just a jerk." Michael took one glance at Subject, then heat surrounded him. "I'll let him go when you let me go. Everyone here is required to like me. It's a fact. Besides, I could just follow you."

Werr sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He set his bowl of soup down, walking over to Michael. He then punched the boy in the gut, ignoring the heat. He leaned close so his mouth was next to Michael's ear. "I don't like you. It's a fact." He released the boy after that, grabbing his soup off the table and heading back up the stairs.

This drug made him feel alive. Which was saying something, because he always felt half-dead. But it was unleashing the irrational mind behind him.

Michael looked over at Quinn appealingly, since he couldn't move yet. "Quinn, there's burn cream in the drawer behind you; could you go bring it to Werr? Please?" Michael knew from previous experience and having seen Werr's hand that it was burned and would blister soon, if not worse. "Otherwise he'll be even more mad later."

"Y-yeah, I guess," Quinn nodded, rummaging through the drawers to find the cream he spoke of. She carried it up the stairs, as Michael had requested.

Sylas came back in at this point, still in dog form. He still looked awfully upset; his tail dragged on the ground behind him, and he kept his head low. For the most part though, he was doing a little better, at least.

Tyler came in after Sylas, instantly removing the pebbles and sweeping them away, before Sylas saw them. Werr was too far away to bring them back. That done, he reached down and rubbed Sylas' head happily. Until he saw the broken glass. "Michael! Were you fighting with someone again?"

Sylas ignored it, walking into the kitchen. He transformed back into his normal form, finishing the pie he had started. He put it in the oven, then reverted to his dog form and padded up the stairs, hoping to find a place to lie down. Honestly, he didn't care about Michael fighting. Michael always fought with everything.

Quinn, however, replied to Tyler. "Yes, he and Subject got into a fight. It's over now, Werr broke it up." She smiled at him, shrugging a bit.