By the Cherry Tree…
Almost got away with no note this time… ::sigh:: ...go ahead and skip over it if ye like.
((Hey! Guess who shows up in this chapter! ? ! ?
…No… not Mudo (yet)… ME! sort of. So I figure here is a good place to point out this fact:
I started coming up with a lot of the ideas that have come to create these fanfictions about 8 years ago… The sequence of events as they are and the configuration of Original Characters WAS NOT the original "plan"; I'm not SO morbid as to WANT the fate that ends up befalling said namesake character of mine as "By The Roadway" reveals it to be:
I ACTUALLY planned 8 years ago to NEVER publish a story that went into such dark place, HENCE why I started using Terra Khushrenada for a pen name.
The ORIGINAL story where Terra appeared was set after AC197 when a Mobile Suit Tournament is being held to "use up" the rest of the parts left over from the war as well as giving the numerous ex-pilots around the Earth Sphere something to ply their skills to. It started off with "Zech's Nightmare" where he dreams of being forced to cut his hair and then endure the resulting ridicule; before Noin drops an ice cube down his shirt to wake him up for the news report about the Tournament. The five Gundam Pilots, plus Zechs, Noin & others, end up meeting a mysterious (angst ridden) girl (who Trowa falls into a relationship with) that turns out to be the sister of Trieze Khushrenada. Of course sabotage and intrigue abound and by the final rounds it's no longer a polite contest but a desperate fight to stop the people who are trying to take over the world…
…I quickly came to respect (back then) the fact that the tale was way too "self-insertion" style and abandoned it as well as the various story lines that had her appearing and influencing throughout the main series, as (of course) it always caused Trieze to end up OOC. I could not let go of the idea of Trieze having a sister as it created the "something worth protecting" element that played so well into elaborating his character emotionally…
…and thus on the night of their parents murder she was no longer able to escape sharing their brutal fate anymore.
It's a hard life to be one of my OC's! You should give them hugs for all I put them through sometimes!
There is a REALLY good lemon I'm still trying to find still with Zechs and 'Hikaru' (the OTHER Terra, who is more 'pacifistic') that was a "What if" type where the Sank Kingdom never fell and the world was peaceful.))
…Nuance Nuisances…
Trieze sighed heavily as he reviewed the large recipe book in front of him and checked it against the ingredients he had already collected. He'd set a few of the other dishes to cook and had an array of timers set to prevent loosing track of any of them. Even so he was sure there was no way he was going to be able to pull this off every night for a MONTH.
A golden filigree ring that looped through the end of a long braid of copper-brown hair fell between the page and his face.
Trieze looked up through his forked brow, un-amused: Terra Khushrenada was hanging upside down from one of the lights that illuminated the large kitchen.
Dressed casually in jeans and a tee, her bright green eyes filled with mischievous glee, she was quite the little sneak when it came down to it. Slipping in and out of formal wear in the blink of an eye and well acquainted with the various secret passages throughout their home; her parents gave up trying to contain their 'wild princess' at an early age. The only restraint that kept her playing along with the tedious formal exercises of the aristocratic life-style was her extremely long hair that required multiple servants to maintain – the length of her braid changing according to her plans as the hair that created it was typically doubled or even tripled up to prevent it dragging along behind the active little girl.
"What'cha cookin'?"
"Your dinner."
She disengaged from her perch and landed on the counter crouching over the book to survey it as well.
"I don't know if I want to eat that…" She enjoyed the twitch of frustration on her brother's face.
"Then don't, there's going to be plenty of other things. Mother likes it, and you know how father has been worried about her not eating enough."
"Well YEAH, but that's why it doesn't make any sense for him to make YOU cook it – it's not like it's going to taste right anyways…"
Trieze almost growled.
"If you're not going to help, why don't you just get out of here Terra?" She stood up indignantly and leapt down to the floor. With a twirl she leaned up against the near-by refrigerator.
"I don't know… why should I? I mean mother said since she isn't speaking to you that I don't have to speak to you either…" She stuck her nose in the air and crossed her arms over her chest.
Trieze stopped mixing the two bowls of ingredients to start the dish, and turned to look at Terra frowning,
"What do you mean she isn't speaking to me?"
"Well HAS she spoken to you yet?"
"No…"
"There you go! That's what I mean! She's awfully upset with you, Milliardo too, and FATHER says that next time…? …He's just going to kill you and give ME all of your things AND your name! I'll get to cut my hair and pretend to be a boy and pilot Mobile Suits just like you were going to!"
As much as his sister's over exuberant nature usually made him laugh, the news of his mother's scorn over his recent actions hurt more then he expected it to. He turned back to his work trying to be even more diligent now so as not to prove his sister right about his culinary aptitude.
"What does Milliardo have to be so upset about anyways…"
"Something about the Kessel twins telling the whole school about how he has some asinine lover of his own…"
"Ah…" Trieze blushed; did Milliardo have to tell everyone everything?
"I told him he shouldn't worry about it… but you know how he gets. You should really apologize to him."
"Is that why you're in here?"
"No…" The innocent trail-off told Trieze otherwise. While both Milliardo and Terra were schooled in sword-play as well (Terra was quite skilled even) neither was held to the over-kill measures of perfection, nor the extensive military education, Sir Godrick demanded of the son that would inherit his title. Therefore the two normally spent a lot of time together.
Trieze might have been bothered if it weren't for his memories of how things had been before the Sank Kingdom's fall – how seriously Milliardo took it when he would be asked to watch over his own sister, Relena… (('As far as Trieze knew' so ppl aren't confused…)) Trieze's father had only been able to save one of the two siblings before the Alliance forces began to level the capital city…
…He didn't mind sharing with his 'brother'.
THAT Brother…
Milliardo had refused to leave his room for any reason other then meals for the past three days. Trieze had tried to apologize several times but the prince's decimated self esteem would hear none of it.
The day had come for Sir Godrick to see that something was done to sort out the whole matter. He went to Milliardo's room carrying a large glossy paper bag of white flat boxes and knocked. It was six AM but even so Milliardo's melancholy voice responded almost imminently.
"Who is it?"
"Your guardian and humble servant, your majesty…"
Sir Godrick's formal deference's made him feel awkward at times, but the occasional reminder of his true status could be comforting …when it didn't fill him with a painful sense of loss. The door was quickly opened wide with an invitation to enter; the boy had already been awake,
"…I've carefully considered your concerns m'lord and seen that your enrollment has been withdrawn as well. It might be a little last minute considering your current disposition, but I feel it is important that you and Trieze continue your education as soon as possible. There is a different dress code at the institution you two will be attending …so I've acquired these for you." He handed over the shopping bag.
Milliardo took it over to his bed to see what the boxes contained. He was a little puzzled by what he found.
"Wait… exactly what kind of a school are we being sent to?"
Sir Godrick coughed and shifted a little in his otherwise ridged attention stance.
"It would be the local kind… I'm sure you're aware of some of the investment initiatives I'm trying to accomplish in the Colonies. I felt a more relaxed social environment might be beneficial to both of you boys right now. It would also be very helpful to give me a better understanding with which to compare the current resources available to students up there. Do you mind terribly, or would you rather I schedule more tutors here at home?"
Milliardo looked again at the wide-legged style blue jeans, white hoodie and white generic graphic tee complete with a pair of red-white Converse. He gave a heavy sigh,
"When will we have to leave?"
…Trieze had not been awake yet when Sir Godrick visited his door.
"FATHER this is absurd! I know you're upset, I know mother's upset, I KNOW Milliardo is upset, but this is entirely uncalled for!"
"Trieze! I will not have you growing up to be an Arrogant Arse like me! I wouldn't be able to stand being shown up by my own seed! A grudge against my own son would be a terrible thing indeed! If you ever want to have humility and understand real people you have to interact with them! Leave the fire-starting to my legacy, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" In response, Trieze slammed his bedroom door in his fathers face. "O'Seven Hundred Ten I want you in that car, with Milliardo on your way to school or so help me, Lords of Our Clan: I WILL break every bone in yourmalingering body!"
Trieze was already adorning the cloths his father had brought, but the extremity of the threat almost gave him enough pause to WANT to test his old man's resolve.
Did he really care about Milliardo THAT much more…?
…All Sir Godrick muttered as he stalked away from his son's door…?
"What an idiot! Can't even see how to appreciate the opportunities I give him…"
…'Like'…
At 7:05 AM Trieze was already in the HVG looking up the rout to the local high school when Milliardo came outside to join him.
He had to do a double take as the younger boy looked nothing like his normal self without the starched tailoring of the aristocratic class. Still he had tied his long hair back with a thin silk blue bow as Trieze's father usually did.
Then again he supposed he probably looked just as odd in his own blue shirt and jeans. He had pulled out an informal button up shirt and wore it open unable to tolerate the way he looked in the hooded zippered sweatshirt – but some how it did seem to work with Milliardo's lankier form…
…It wasn't long before the traffic thickened around them and they eventually found themselves parked outside Diekirch High, along with a mass of other students, teachers and parents.
"This is just absurd…" Trieze sighed looking around after he'd fetched his backpack and gotten out of his HVG.
"They said we're supposed to go to the main office to check in first… Trieze? Are you coming?"
Milliardo had started towards the building with his own pack slung over one shoulder, but stopped when he sensed he wasn't being followed.
Trieze was staring…
...watching…
…with his mouth slightly slack…
…as a group of girls, wearing their cheer leading uniforms, got out of a rather pretentious mustang as well as a shiny truck parked next to it (both driven by rather athletic boys) and made their way, chattering excitedly, through the parking lot, towards the school. Their legs practically bare with only some of them wearing tights and the 'skirts' so short that they might as well have been considered pleated belts…
He did not miss the way the mustang driver's hand connected with the ass of one of the tallest, and prettiest, blonds; Eliciting a giggling squeal and provoking a rather graphic kiss before they parted ways.
"Yes… Yes, I am." The Cheshire cat would have been put to shame, "Father… I love you too."
"I see, is that it? Well, then… start kicking…" ~ Sir Godrick the Eighth ch2 (((see what I mean about mirroring? ^_~)))
They found the principle's office easily enough.
The man greeted them with a restrained excitement that made it evident he was unsure of how to react to the two "guest" students. After the thorough inspection Trieze's father had given the entire school he was more then a little nervous about possibly offending the boys.
"…We really are so happy to have you two here. I know your father mentioned you needed a more relaxed education and I'm hoping that you'll enjoy attending our school."
Trieze still had a grin stretching from ear to ear, unable to get the image of the girls swaying pleats out of his head. Due to his sheltered upbringing he'd never actually seen a girl dress that way except in pictures,
"I'm sure we will."
"I certainly wouldn't want to make you two late for your first classes, so here are your schedules, a map of the school, your locker information and the student handbook… I know it says that you must read it and hand in the last page signed, but most of the student's here ignore that completely anyways. I'm sure there's not going to be any issues with misbehavior from you two! We did our best to put you together in what classes we could, considering that you're at different age levels, and I included some information on the clubs we have available here after school. I'm sure they are nothing like the activity classes you're used to, but it will probably help you boys to find some friends here."
"I'm sure we'll be fine. Thank you." Milliardo resisted the urge to glare at Trieze.
"Well best of luck to you two!"
The man's excitement hiding his fears for what the two would face once they began mingling with the rest of the schools population. Then again, rich kids always managed to be popular somehow.
In the stairwell down the hall from the office Milliardo, grabbed Trieze's arm and wrenched him around, his icy eyes piercing.
"Don't you DARE go and make yourself an embarrassment again."
Trieze indignantly yanked Milliardo's hand from his arm.
"I don't think you get it Milliardo, these people have no class and no titles, it's not like they have any real importance in the world. We can relax."
"Fine, whatever, but don't go ruining MY reputation, again, just for a bit of fun." Milliardo started up the steps two at a time.
…First Period…
"Bonjour mon nom est Trieze, je parlent français, Je suis très heureux d'être à cette école. J'ai une plus jeune soeur, Terra, et vis dans le château au nord de la ville. Mon père est un Duc. C'est mon frère, il est un Marquis."
"Bonjour mon nom est Milliardo, je parlent français, Il fait très beau de vous rencontrer. Je vis avec Trieze et sa mère et père."
Mrs. Levét was bursting with joy at the absolute perfect fluency of her newest students. (((I used Babel Fish, so not really))) It was such a relief to hear after years of struggling with her own pupils… …whom of course were now in various states of catatonic trances at their desks…as was typical so early in the morning.
"Splendid! Excellent! Le plus merveilleux! Vous pouvez s'asseoir… Now I figured we would take it easy today and watch this video on Appellation d'origine contrôlée and the concept of 'terroir'…"
Trieze ended up sitting with the teacher at the front of the room a short while into the film. The two of them had quiet an extensive conversation (in French) about the various wine regions they had visited – Trieze's father of course having brought him along for the past few years whenever he took a tour to purchase fresh stocks for their own extensive cellar.
Milliardo was content to silently watch the film with the rest and started to take a look at the "unimportant" people around him.
…Trieze's Second Period… History.
Mr. Santonia was a big man with a broad chest and substantial belly. He dressed impeccably each day in a three piece suit complete with fob watch. One day, he knew, each of his students would find that moment where they wished they had paid more attention to the innumerable lessons of the past.
"Alright! Today we have ourselves a very special new student joining us, Mr. Trieze. Would you perhaps like to introduce yourself and maybe tell us a little about your own history? If anyone has any questions they can get them out of the way so we can get back to immersing ourselves in the chronicles of humanity."
Trieze loved telling people about his history. He stood and walked to the front of the class, turning to survey his 'peers'.
"I am Trieze Godrick Khushrenada the Thirteenth. My father is a Duke who served in the Alliance Ground Infantry for six years before he retired to focus on investing in the development of the colonies and space transportation industries. My family has been a member of the Romefeller Foundation since its formation and I am currently enrolled in the Special's Mobile Suit Calvary Division."
There was a girl who was slouched low in her desk in the front row. Her light brown hair was dyed with blue streaks framing her face, her cloths were generally black consisting of laced and buckled knee high boots, a short black skirt, punk tee and black & hot-pink striped fingerless gloves that reached up most of her arms,
"So… basically… you're saying your dad was one of the guys who ordered the occupation of the Sank Kingdom?"
Trieze was not prepared for that and sputtered a moment before finding his words again,
"Exactly why would you assume something like that?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders, but hardly seemed willing to waste any effort,
"Everyone's heard that Romefeller paid for Heero Yuy's assassination, are you saying they didn't want the Sank Kingdom out of the way too?" her stony accusing eyes never wavered.
"The Romefeller Foundation is a social club that serves as an investment platform and as a tradition based government for members of the elite class. I do not know where you are getting these ideas about hiring assassins. I'll excuse you for your ignorance this time, but my father was knighted by, and personal friend to, King Peacecraft and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't attempt to insult his honor in my presence."
"Then –"
The girl was cut off as a friend behind her, wearing a purple and green plaid skirt and a similar assortment of "metal" accessories, gave her a kick with her own platform and stiletto heel style black boots,
"Katja!"
"Fine… whatever…"
Katja's friend flashed Trieze a roll of her eyes before looking away and giving a bored sigh: Yeah. I have to do that, A LOT.
…Together in Gym Class…
Milliardo had been "bumped up" in a few of his classes to the Junior level. Meaning he was shorter then most of the other boys in the gym class he shared with Trieze on their ((oh what the hell))"Omega" day schedule. On "Zeta" days Trieze was scheduled for Milliardo's Freshman level art class.
((Like Yeah! of course I had to! School wide vote after protests against the inequality of using Alpha and Beta SO the most popular "other letters" were "randomly" selected!
Itz True. Itz Fact, I just wrote it.))
They had packed two sets of gym cloths – one with knee length shorts and a short sleeve sports shirt, the other with longer track pants and a track jacket. Even though it looked like they were going to be indoors, unlike Trieze, Milliardo opted for wearing the track pants. He was rewarded for his instincts before they even got out of the locker room.
The two had opted for changing in the adjacent room to the main locker concourse with shower stalls on one side and on the other a few toilets, urinals and sinks with a mirror stretching above them.
"Hey, you ladies know the girl's locker room is next door, right?" It was the mustang driver with his trucker friend in tow.
Trieze's blue eyes slid to the side to look at his prey from beneath their elegantly forked brows as he stood in front of the mirror. He had been preening his mane and fine tuning the forks of said elegant brow.
"Excuse me?"
"Look he even shaves like a girl!" Trucker boy was pointing at his bare lower legs and laughing cruelly. Trieze walked straight up to the two and with a dead serious glare,
"You wear formal attire for eight hours straight and then tell me how precious leg hair is to you."
"Oh yeah right, like I'd ever dress up like some fairy! What? You think you're tough or something just 'cuz you're daddy gave you some shiny hummer?"
"He didn't just give it to me, he had it custom built for my last birthday. Thisspring? He might acquire the new Aires Flight-Model Mobile Suit to go with our five Leo Ground-types… do you want to ask me again then?"
The two boys, whom were aware of the expense and firepower of the military machines, looked at each other caught off guard and backed away with mutterings about "stupid yuppie rich kids". Milliardo, sensing the danger had passed, came out of the shower stall he had deemed the cleanest.
"Speaking of your father… this place really is absurd."
Trieze couldn't help laughing at that; HIS instincts had at least been right about that… even if there were in fact plenty of things to make the absurdities worth it.
"Maybe you should have just braved the Kessel Twins' lies instead of holing up in your room, oh forlorn Prince. Then you could tell them all sorts of stories of your own about what a terrible place I was sent to as punishment for my misconduct."
"Heh, this school does seem like a prison in a lot of ways. I can't believe how slow the teaching pace is, we're spending a whole three days on the functions of a cell – I already wrote half of the report on transcription errors during cell division; and now the most the teacher wants is for us to just remember the order of the steps! It's no wonder 'the masses' never seem to have an original idea." Trieze tightened his jaw remembering his encounter the previous period.
"I wouldn't say that. Some girl already accused my father of sacking the Sank Kingdom… seems a rather original thought to me…"
"Strange… I'm not surprised." Milliardo was opening the door to the main gym.
"What exactly does THAT mean!" Trieze didn't get a chance to press him further as the coach was blowing the whistle for the class to congregate.
That was actually a little bit of a surprise as well, they'd never seen such a man who wasn't. The coach, whom revealed after roll call that she preferred to be called "Coach", was a burly dark blond woman dressed in grey sweat pants and what could have been an extra large purple tee-shirt that was still some how too small.
"As you all know we STILL have not gotten the 'pennies' back from the cleaners after someone decided to hide their pet 'weasels'…"
"…they were ferrets!" Coach rolled her eyes at the correction.
"…whatevers! …in the storage bags!" Trieze used his recently preened brow to its fullest extent as he and Milliardo exchanged looks before he had to put a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his mirth. What had Milliardo been saying about unoriginality? No well bred person of distinction would have considered such an idea as that! "So we're going to be continuing our basketball tournament with "shirts" and "skins" on the nearer two courts. Ladies you can go ahead and set up on the next to last court to practice your free throws if you're still not interested in being competitive. Trieze, Milli, we have two people absent today so there's an opening on shirt team three and skins team four; you can sort it out between yourselves. And for the last time, I do NOT want to see balls being lobbed at the cheer team while they are trying to practice!"
That caused Trieze to look behind him to the furthest court where sure enough the girls from that morning, as well as a good few more, were beginning their stretching routine.
"Why don't you go ahead and join team three… Milli."
Milliardo just sighed and muttered under his breath as he went to join up with the co-ed shirt team. The boys from before in the locker room had already striped their own shirts off; it seemed that they were both on team four. Trieze can only imagine what insults they were exchanging as he walked over to them, but he had plenty of time to play this little game out.
The mustang driver's girlfriend turned from her workout,
"Hey~ Good luck, Jason~!" She blew her boyfriend a kiss… before her expression went slightly slack, "Oh my god…"
Trieze, who had been standing behind and to the side of 'Jason', had just removed his own shirt.
Compared to the shallow six pack and bulked arms of her boyfriend, Trieze looked like a chiseled roman statue; his pecks defined, his lower torso rippling and his own arms had the undulating curves of a fighter who spent a great deal of time training – which he did.
His deep blue eyes caught hers and she didn't even notice how red her boyfriend was turning as her friends caught on to the eye candy as well and started giggling with excitement.
Team four utterly crushed both of the other shirted teams that class – the rivalry between the boys to score the most points quickly gaining to a level of competition the rest of the students could not rise to…
Trieze did trip Jason when the teacher wasn't looking in order to allow Milliardo to get at least one shot against them…
…Whatever team he was playing for, and whatever people would say of him, he would never forget where his family's loyalties truly lay.
…Milliardo's Fourth Period… Safety within Music…
Milliardo managed to throw himself out of the crushing stream of students when he spotted the hallway that ran behind the schools large auditorium stage. He took a moment to recover from being hustled along in the virtual stamped; it reminded him of watching sheep being herded to their pens.
This hallway, denoted as "the music wing", was surprisingly quiet and only a few people were hanging out in it along with the stacks of chairs, stands and various instruments (cased and uncased) that lined its edges. He found the heavy double doors that lead onto the stage and wondered what horrors he would find beyond.
The stage did seem to have a full complement of curtains, a good sign. The students were already seated in an orchestral arrangement on the stage, he spotted the teacher helping to restring a viola and decide he would take a seat in one of the spare chairs that were scattered apart from the main group. The teacher took attendance as soon as it seemed all the students that were in school that day had arrived.
"Okay… so it seems like we have a new student in the school…"
Katja, who was sitting with her forehead against her cello, groaned and looked around to spot the arrogant asshole from that morning's class.
"…Milliard Marquise, it says here you've spent quite some time studying the piano, would you like to play a sample for the group to introduce yourself?"
Milliardo stood and quietly walked over to the grand piano that was waiting at the edge of stage left. He sat very distinctly and ran his hands left and right on the keys to acclimate to the distance he had to work with.
He began with Chopin's Nocturne #2; its punctuated melancholy cadence had the quality of an old music box. Instead of following the transition into the more upbeat trend that introduced itself a few minutes into the piece, he switched tact's into a piece typically played by a cello – Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G major. He had been working on such stylistic transitions with his tutors at home.
The change had a profound effect intensifying the sorrowful reminiscing from that of a music box that had played itself out a thousand times over, into the pleading of a heart in the grips of being broken… the final notes were as if the crystal object had finally landed to spew forth and scatter into a pool of diamonds across a marble floor...oh forlorn prince.
After the class was over Milliardo was hit with an extreme sense of déjà vu when he had swung only his left leg over the bench and two twin silhouettes were standing over him with the stage lights glaring behind their backs.
"OH MY GOD! THAT WAS AMAZING!"
His eyes adjusted and the details of the two girls became clear, he was suddenly more then a little embarrassed and unsure of what to do: Both girls were dressed primarily in black, with highlights of neon colors.
They were both wearing knee high-boots, one with buckles and laces the other platform heels; short skirts, one simple black, the other a green and purple plaid with fishnets; Their shirts were casual enough and one of them sported fingerless pink and black striped gloves that reached up to her elbows.
He hadn't been prepared to be addressed so directly by a pair of prostitutes and quickly cast his gaze to the side,
"Thank you, I'm glad that you appreciate it."
"My name is Katja, this is Samantha… I was actually wondering, would you be interested in joining the music club? It's after school today; we've been looking for some new talent!"
"I… uhh…" He had planned on looking into the club, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to be associated with such scantily clad girls… though he was sure Trieze would agree in a heartbeat.
"See… when she says she wants you to join the music club, what she means is she wants to talk you into joining our band. You ever been a fan of Metal?"
"…Metal?" He couldn't help peaking up curiously at the girl who had been identified as Samantha.
"Yeah…! You play so emotionally and that's what Heavy Metal is all about – conveying your emotions with music! What do you have next period?"
"Lunch I believe…"
The two girls looked at each other knowingly before Katja, the ever willing spokesperson, explained their concerns,
"Oh… you're probably better off sticking with us then. It's pretty 'cliquey' at this school – if your not careful people can give you a pretty miserable time… but don't worry, our group is pretty open minded and most of us are nice. You certainly don't need to be shy!"
"I don't mean to be rude but I really don't know if I'm comfortable with persons of your profession…"
"Huh? Our profession? What, you mean being in a Heavy Metal band?"
"Uh… no…" He glanced them both up and down meaningfully. Strangely, Samantha caught on first and started laughing,
"Oh my god… that's too funny… You transferred in from that rich school too, huh? My dad keeps telling me people are gonna think I'm a prostitute, but then again he just doesn't understand modern fashion. No, no this is just… kinda like our stage costumes; we're not WHORES or anything. That would be the cheerleaders and all their preppy friends."
Milliardo turned red and stood bowing apologetically to the girls who had been so kindly offering him their friendship,
"Please forgive me for my mistake, I really didn't mean to offend you… I just…" he was at a loss for what to say to make up for his error, but Katja and Samantha hardly seemed bothered.
"…Have honor? I get it; even if everyone thinks it's old fashioned! The Gothic style is all about old fashions…"
"Gothic style?"
"Oh~ man… We got a lot of work to do with you, huh…"
Milliardo let the two girls lead on.
…Fifth Period Lunch…
Katja (with a few minor additions from Samantha) proceeded to give Milliardo a crash course on Heavy Metal, the recent social history of the school and how it relates to the various musical genres that students listen to.
It had his head swimming with the cascade of information.
Just as they were entering the large cafeteria, and passing below the stairway that lead down into it from the second floor, Katja was rudely interrupted by a decent quantity of milk spilling down over her head. She halted with an exasperated sigh and hardly needed to look up to identify the giggling culprits above.
"…And now you see what I mean. …YEAH! YOU BETTER RUN BEFORE I GO ALL CARRIE ON YOUR ASSES!" The small gaggle of cheerleaders dispersed with a great show of fake kisses all around as a few went to their classes and others proceeded into the large cafeteria that doubled as a student center. "Ugh! I hope Sandy grabbed a stack of napkins…" She took the handkerchief Milliardo offered and at least mopped up the extra fluid that clung to her shoulders and hair before giving it back with a sheepish smile. "…so do you think you can stay after?"
"I'd have to ask my brother since I can't drive myself yet." Milliardo was somewhat astonished how well the girl had recovered from the obvious insult. It seemed she wasn't kidding about things like that being a common occurrence here.
Katja stopped an wheeled around,
"Wait… how old are you?"
"15." Katja looked like she'd gotten her hopes up for nothing for some reason.
"Oh… huh, I thought you were more like 17."
Samantha was shaking her head, 'Of course you get ahead of yourself just cuz he looks pretty.'
"Why, does that matter? How old are you?" Katja quickly went back to her high energy self.
"Oh no! It doesn't matter… You just act so mature is all, I'm 17, turning 18 in a few months."
"Well, well, well… what do we have here? You seem to have found your number one fan, Milliard."
The trio (which was just reaching the table pushed off into the corner of the room away from the others and hosted a mismatched assembly of characters) turned. Trieze had just crossed the room from the hallway where his Physics class was located.
"Trieze, do you think you could find something to do for three hours after school today?"
Katja and Samantha went wide-eyed, and Katja's jaw dropped to the floor.
"WAIT a minute! HE'S your brother? You don't even have the same last name!"
Trieze, smiling warmly, put an arm around Milliard's shoulders,
"Not really, but close enough. He does live with me."
The two girls exchanged look and Katja sighed with understanding,
"Oh… I see… 'Brothers' it makes sense now…" Trieze frowned, not following.
"What do you see…?"
Katja rolled her eyes before putting her own arm around Samantha's shoulder and leaning almost provocatively against her,
"Ye know, like if we said we were 'Sisters'…" Both boys imminently took a step apart.
"Oh no, no…"
"No not like that… you see uh," Trieze scrambled for an explanation that didn't include adopting the prince of the Sank Kingdom, "…my father had a mistress." He put on a very serious expression, "It's really something we're not ever allowed to talk about…"
Milliardo next to him was glaring, slack jawed with abject hatred.
The FIRST day wasn't even over and WHAT did Trieze go and do? …Tell the first "friends" he had made that he was in fact the bastard son of his father's mistress.
However, Trieze's explanation also covered the outward emotions Milliard was expressing at the moment (they even gave the story more credence) and the two girls unquestioningly accepted the lie.
Katja was confused when Trieze handed her a stack of napkins he'd been carrying,
"Huh? What's this for…? Oh." She had almost forgotten about her soggy hair and cloths. It took her a moment or two to begrudgingly add, "Thanks."
"It seems you're very popular around here." Trieze sensing that he was in trouble with his 'brother' again decided he should try and make it up to him as quickly as possible.
Katja laughed in his face.
"Popular? I think Casey Cassidy, ye know the blond bitch who dumped that milk on me and just lives to make everyone miserable; JUST cuz they aren't always screwing some jock? Would have a lot of issues with that assessment of yours, SHE'S the popular one."
(((hey, guys, females, readers, what-evers, I'm going to save describing this whole group they sit with at lunch and who they all are a different "day" so don't feel gypped of the "experience"… For me I never know people till the second or third time I meet them anyways… so this is kinda with that idea of Milliard and Trieze don't really know them either so they wouldn't really be able to tell you much.)))
It was obvious that if it weren't for Milliardo, Katja would have had Trieze driven from the table.
Her non-verbal communications showing her distaste for the "stuck up aristocrat" as much as her words. It was a convenient relief for the two boys; even if Trieze hadn't had Katja's debriefing on the social strata of the school, he could tell just by looking across at the various groups that collected at the tables, that it would have been a hard task indeed to just PICK one.
"Well…" He gave a sigh after returning from dropping off his and Milliardo's garbage (they had packed lunch, Trieze had been worried at what would be offered – another ten points for his instinct.) "I think I'm just going to brush my teeth and head up to Math early…if that's alright with you Milliard" It was another class they shared.
Katja had not missed a single opportunity to jump on anything Trieze said, just as Samantha hadn't missed a chance to roll her eyes and look embarrassed that her friend didn't know when to quit.
"You're going to brush your teeth during school?"
Trieze, who had actually started to enjoy her adversarial attitude now that it wasn't focused on insulting his family, laughed lightly,
"Why is that so strange? I like taking care of myself." He flipped open the small black travel case which contained a variety of tools he used to maintain his appearance including an extending tooth brush. That was only more of a reason for her to shake her head disbelieving.
"I have NEVER met someone THAT metro."
"Metro?" he asked standing to leave.
"Metro-sexual: acts completely gay but is still attracted to women… mostly."
"Huh…" he went off to take care of his obsessive habit and let Milliard have his friends to himself.
In the bathroom…
…it wasn't long before the door swung open and some one entered the otherwise unoccupied room. ((…ye know I'm up to something!))
Trieze was a little surprised to see it was the tall pretty blond whom the Mustang driver had put a claim on and Katja had given the name "Casey Cassidy". He had to do a double take checking that he was in fact in the men's room with urinals and hadn't accidentally chosen the wrong door.
"I'm not sure you're supposed to be in here…" The girl was advancing on him with a mischievous look.
"No, but like, Jason was saying your family owns like Five Mobile Suits… Is that like, true?"
Trieze was growing a mischievous look of his own as he read the various signals the girl was giving off,
"Why yes, it is…"
She stopped only a foot or two from him, looking up at him through her batting lashes,
"Wow… your family must be like, super rich."
"My father does hold the title of Duke…" The girl leaned back a bit, the movement accentuating her oversized breasts, before she moved in to finger the edge of his open buttoned shirt.
"Hmm, I was wondering if you like, wanted to hang out after school today…" Trieze raised his eyebrows, while he was all for getting close to girls it was throwing him off how much this girl was coming on to him – it almost made him nervous! …but only almost.
"Really? Wouldn't 'Jason' have some objections to this?"
"Well like, he wanted me to come in here and see if you were really gay." The overuse of the word "like" was emerging as a persistent trend.
"Ah… I see. That's an awfully big risk for him to take… it almost would seem like he doesn't really care about you." Her eyes lit up.
"Oh? Is it a risk?"
She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and without a second's hesitation took hold of both sides of his open shirt and pushed herself up on her toes to connect with his lips.
Despite the unexpected taste of menthol (from chewing gum) and overpowering 'hickory' smoked flavor (from smoking cigarettes) Trieze certainly was NOT going to let his sexual orientation be misunderstood. He wrapped his own arms around her waist and swung her gently around and up against the wall in between the sinks to give her a better understand of just how "not gay" he was. He withdrew when his caressing hands finally elicited a low moan from the girl and moved to exit the scene throwing a,
"I'll see you later. I have three hours to kill after classes, just meet me by my car." …Over his shoulder leaving her behind, breathless.
Trieze had a huge grin on his face that made Milliardo (who had not noticed the girl sneak in after his brother) bury his face in his hand.
"What have you done?" Trieze continued to beam innocently,
"Nothing, nothing at all… I just found something to do while your hanging out with your friends is all." The bell rang signaling the end of the period.
The masses of students began to mobilize for the shift change.
Katja and Samantha hurried to get to their next class calling back to Milliard:
"Ok! See you later! We'll meet you by the Cherry Tree…"