Tavros woke early, before his alarm went off. He lay in bed for a moment, trying to piece together the shattered remnants of dreams already being pushed out of his conscious thought in favor of naggy reminders -- get up, get dressed, get moving, if you miss the bus one more time I'll be so disappointed...
He pushed the covers off, then reached down and threw them off his legs as well. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of his hands and frowned a little. He distinctly remembered that part of the dream. At several points he'd seen his own hands, corpse-grey and ending in discolored fingernails. Weird. Eerie. The early morning light made him look maybe a little too pale, but at least he was back to Caucasian.
All right, Martin, no more candy before bed.
He barely even paid attention to the pushy inner monologue. With his dad always out, someone had to be the one to lay down the law around here. Might as well be Rufio.
Too old for imaginary friends? Definitely. He recognized this awhile ago and eventually reached the point where he no longer openly spoke to him. But in his mind, he still pretends the big guy is looking out for him, giving advice, nodding proudly when he does the right thing and forgiving him when he doesn't.
Loneliness will do that to you.
Tavros pulls his wheelchair closer to the bed, thankful it didn't roll back down the... ramp?
Why the hell would he need a ramp to get into bed?
Whatever.
Enough lollygagging, let's get moving!
The rest of his morning follows the usual routine. Clothes on, teeth brushed, face washed, bowl of cereal, bookbag, and go. He hates the school, but he has no choice. He wants to do the right thing, and right now that thing happens to be school.
Re: Home - At each character's home
He pushed the covers off, then reached down and threw them off his legs as well. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of his hands and frowned a little. He distinctly remembered that part of the dream. At several points he'd seen his own hands, corpse-grey and ending in discolored fingernails. Weird. Eerie. The early morning light made him look maybe a little too pale, but at least he was back to Caucasian.
All right, Martin, no more candy before bed.
He barely even paid attention to the pushy inner monologue. With his dad always out, someone had to be the one to lay down the law around here. Might as well be Rufio.
Too old for imaginary friends? Definitely. He recognized this awhile ago and eventually reached the point where he no longer openly spoke to him. But in his mind, he still pretends the big guy is looking out for him, giving advice, nodding proudly when he does the right thing and forgiving him when he doesn't.
Loneliness will do that to you.
Tavros pulls his wheelchair closer to the bed, thankful it didn't roll back down the... ramp?
Why the hell would he need a ramp to get into bed?
Whatever.
Enough lollygagging, let's get moving!
The rest of his morning follows the usual routine. Clothes on, teeth brushed, face washed, bowl of cereal, bookbag, and go. He hates the school, but he has no choice. He wants to do the right thing, and right now that thing happens to be school.