Connor shook his hand with another quick smile. "Ah…I don't have any yet. I'll be startin' tomorrah, but today ah'm supposed to just settle in and get m' bearin's." The accent became slightly less pronounced, turning into an easy Scottish lilt.
"Sure.. uh- what time is it.." Wilhelm checked his watch, about to say something before hearing the classroom door bang open.
"Sallow!" An older woman squawked, gripping Wilhelm's shoulder and spinning him around to face her.
"Ah- hello, Miss." He started sheepishly, glancing back at Connor after a few uncomfortable seconds.
"May I inquire what you're doing, having a conversation with this boy? I'm sure he has places to be, mister Sallow. Don't hold him up." She hissed, letting go of Wilhelm. "I believe it's worth mentioning that you don't need to be disrupting another person, considering your behavior in the classroom."
Connor blinked. "Actually, ma'am, I just got here and Wilhelm was explaining things about the school to me." He said with a friendly smile. His accent seemed to have almost completely disappeared all of a sudden, sounding like any other upperclass English accent. "He isn't disturbin' anything."
"Yeah, miss. I'm just helping out the new kid- being the model student at Pheasant Brook, you know." Wilhelm shot Connor a lopsided grin, his eyes twinkling with a boyish charm.
The teacher, clearly fed up and ready to get back to her classroom, hissed something unintelligible to Wilhelm before making her way back into her classroom.
"Sorry about that. The old bag's got a gravestone with my name on it already, if you know what i mean."
Connor smiled again, shifting a little bit. "Yeah, ah get it." He replied. The soft Scottish lilt was back. "Don' worry." He looked at Wilhelm. "But we better turn what ah said into something true, instead of m' little white lie."
(I probably gtg in about ten minutes. Idk if I'll be back today)
(alright, no problem!)
"Bell'll ring soon. You have a chance to look around just yet?" Wilhelm slipped his hands into his pants pockets, rocking on his heels as he studied Connor. "If not, I don't mind giving you a mini tour."
"Alright. And no, ah haven't. Arrived late because of…family stuff." Something flashed in the boy's blue eyes, turning them cold and distant for a moment. He blinked, and it was gone. "And a mini tour would be great, if you're willin'."
"I understand. Have you seen the dorms yet? Or at least the common area? It's kind of important, so just let me know if you haven't." Wilhelm noticed the flash, but elected not to say anything. After all, they did just meet. Now wasn't the time to get into any possible issues.
"Not the dorms, no. Common area I saw, but ah've been mostly concerned with gettin' m' classes set up." Connor replied, raking a hand through his bouncy reddish curls.
(Ooh so are the dorms like…two to a room, or what?)
(Yeah, that's what I was thinking. I kind of figured a good way to get them closer is if they were roommates, y'know? what do you think?)
"So I assume you haven't met your roommate, then. Tell you what- we head back to the dorms, look around, find your roomie, how's that sound?" Wilhelm raked his fingers through his dark curls, head tilted as he spoke. "It's better to find him today than tonight."
(Ooh perfect!)
Connor dipped his head in a nod, looking at Wilhelm with that friendly smile. He was rather small in comparison to most boys, at only 5'4", and was slender, too. Overall, the Scots boy didn't cut a very imposing figure. His slim fingers were stained with ink and graphite, too, even going up the knuckles. "Tha' sounds li' a good plan." he replied.
He gave him that trademark lopsided grin in return. Wilhelm was pretty average height, about 5’8”, but he still stood tall over Connor. He clearly played some kind of sport, just based off his build alone, not to mention his nose- it had clearly been broken a number of times before.
“‘S go, then. Shall we?” Wilhelm beckoned forward, taking a couple steps before stopping for Connor to catch up.
Connor smiled again, and nodded, following after Wilhelm. There was a leather bag that hung from on shoulder that the Scottish boy kept a hand on. He noticed, suddenly, the way Wilhelm's eyes were two different colors. "Yer eyes wou' b' fun ta paint." He said suddenly as he followed Wilhelm. "Ah mean…fergive me if that's rude fer me t' say, but th' wou' be." He looked up at Wilhelm. "Challengin', bu' fun.'
“You think? Well, thanks. I don’t find it rude at all.” Wilhelm smiled, winking. One eye green, one eye brown. “Challenges are fun, Connor. Doing comfortable things forever is boring.” He walked them up a wide flight of stone stairs and into a large, warm room. A roaring fire snarled in the hearth, eating away at the winter chill. A few armchairs sat on either side of a sofa. Large bookshelves took up a wall, the other decorated with oil paintings.
“What room number are you, again? You didn’t say.”
Connor smiled back. "Yeh. I'd have to do two diffe'ent base coats fur 'em, wann usually yeh can do the same base fur both eyes. But that'd be imposs'ble for yers…" He trailed off, looking thoughtful. At Wilhelm's question, he blinked. "Ah, right. It's…" He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket to check. "207?" He read off slowly.
“Damn, 207? What a coincidence, Con’, that’s my dorm too.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Guess that’s just luck, eh?” Wilhelm walked to a door, opening it widely. “Here she is— the famous dorm 207 herself.”
Connor smiled a little. "Oh. Hope yeh don' mind." He replied. At the nickname, he blinked, raising his eyebrows a little. "Ah… please don' call me Con 'less ah give yeh permission to." He said slowly. "Ah just…it's fer personal reasons tha' ah won' yet be sharin' with ye."
“Oh- yeah, sure, I’m sorry.” Wilhelm sounded genuinely remorseful, his entire demeanor shifting noticeably. “Sorry about that. I give sort of give people nicknames without thinking, I guess.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, quiet for a moment as he thought. “Uh- okay. That’s going to be your side of the room right there.” He pointed to the right of the room. The left was covered in tickets, postcards, letters, even small sketches (none of them were remotely similar, so they were most likely collected from different people). “‘N then the left is mine.”
"'s alright it's jus'…Con is wh' my parents used to call me, an'…'s special 'cause of that." Connor explained. At Wilhelm's words about the room, he nodded, and put his bag down on the bed on the right side. "Thanks." He said with a small smile.
“Yeah, sure. I understand.” Wilhelm plopped down onto his own bed, folding his arms behind his head. “I can’t say people won’t be barging in and out of here all the time, so sorry about that. Friends, teammates, you know. The works.”
Connor sat down and nodded a little. "Alright. Tha's fine." He replied. "Jus' so long as they respe' my space." He pulled a sketchbook from his bag and flipped through it. He paused on a drawing of a boy for a moment, fingers brushing against the paper. Then he continued on.
(are you okay with portrayals of homophobia? i had an idea in mind for Wilhelm, but i want to make sure it’s not too upsetting to you)
“They’re good guys, I’m sure they will if you tell ‘em.” Wilhelm dug next to his pillow, pulling out a small ball that he tossed in the air a couple times. He glanced over at Connor. “So you’re an artist? I mean, I know the stuff you said about my eyes and painting them, but I’m just curious.”
(dude totally, go ahead. (Wait that came out wrong lol. But go ahead))
Connor blinked, and nodded. "Yeh." He replied. "I prefer t' draw, but I like t' paint too. Why?" He replied, raising his eyebrows a little and turning to a blank page.
(alright, just checking! it won't be for a little bit, but i'm just asking now to make sure.)
"Just curious. I can't draw to save my life, but I always admire those people that can." Wilhelm shrugged, kicking his feet slightly. "What kind of paint?" He clearly seemed curious, studying Connor.
(alright! Cool, cool. So I'm assuming that means you'd be okay with me portraying it also? Because I sorta have a plan for Connor that might be interesting to do)
Connor chuckled a little, and nodded. "Oh. Uhm…ah prefer watercolors, but oils ca' b' fun tah work with too." He replied, thinking. He pulled out his pencil, and started to sketch as he spoke, pencil rasping across the paper.