Locker meet face. [open]

[Lister D. Reynolds]

As the last bell of the day rang LDR lingered in the classroom. The teacher gave him raised eyebrows as he slowly packed away his bag. Try as he might to will himself to leave the sanctuary that was a teacher's presence his feet dragged as if they were cemented to the ground. He knew what awaited him if he left. Ridicule and embarrassment. He had no idea as to why they did this nearly everyday.

A deep breath. Don't let them bully you. LDR steeled himself.

He would have ran back to his dorm. He should have ran. But he couldn't. He had to do something about these guys. All the muscles in his body locked. The group of bullies were hanging around his locker, covering it in anything and everything. Hands gripped the strap of his satchel, preparing himself to do...something. The chief of the group turned around to square up against LDR "Heyyy L--L-Lister...h-h-h-how are w-w--we today" He exaggerated the stutter LDR had.

LDR said nothing as he moved towards his locker. As he had his back turned someone bounced some rubbish off the back of his head. He froze again. A rage bubbled go the surface. Before he knew what he was doing his fist connected with the chief's face. LDR only noticed the blood that streamed down the chief's face before he was slammed against the row of lockers. Pain rushed across his face and there was the audible crack of his glasses.

Any confidence or rage he had was swiftly crushed as his body crumpled against the locker. The chief got right into LDR's face, gripping him by his hair "Now look what you've made me do...piece of shit" A fist crashed into his stomach, he bent over then fell, and the group began walking away, each of them adding a kick as they walked pass.

[Wren Averett]

Wren couldn't fight.  It was a sad, disappointing fact, but a fact nonetheless.  Yeah, Southern girls could get a little crazy back home, and fights often broke out among them that could get pretty brutal.  More brutal than the boys' fights, even.  Boys wanted to make a point.  Girls were out for blood. And Wren had cheered alongside many such violent encounters, but she'd never joined in on someone else's brawl.  This is not to say that she'd never been in a fight of her own, just that she had never won one.  The recent situation in the locker room where Max had bailed her out was a prime example.  Wren was helpless in physical encounters.

But like an angry chihuahua, Wren had no intention of letting that hold her back.  Not until after the mistake had been made, anyway.  Once she'd angered someone, then she could worry about how screwed she was.  But if she was angry and had a point to make, she'd act first and regret it later.

This was one such situation.  And maybe it was some lingering Southern sexism ingrained in her, but she doubted a boy would hit her back if she provoked him. That was probably what contributed most to her sudden surge of bravery when she slammed herself into "the chief's" side, using her body weight to off-balance him and knock him against the lockers.

"Ya'll are a bunch of dicks," she snapped, as if that made much of a difference in anything.  She huffed, aggrivated by what she'd seen.  After her encounter with Bitchzilla in the locker room, Wren was feeling especially intolerant of bullies.  This was the third time she seen this particular boy being bullied too, and she was tired of just rolling her eyes and letting it slide.

"Heathens," she grumbled as she moved past them to kneel by LDR.  She reached out to help him up.

[Lister D. Reynolds]

LDR kept his head down as he heard the group walk away. A hand went up to his glasses. If his father wasn't going to kill him for 'losing' his allowance, he was definitely going to now. One lense had shattered, creating a splintered image, an a leg was barely hanging on. His head swirled as he gazed down, the onset of a major headache.

The familiar slam against a locker caused LDR to look back up. A girl who looked as if she was willing to beat each one of the bullies to a pulp was marching her way over to him. Were it not for the fact that he was pretty sure he had a concussion LDR probably would have ran away.

He took the offer of a hand up, his skin only crawling slightly to the contact "Th-Th-Thanks..." He offered a small smile to the girl before quickly pulling away from her. There was no reasonable explanation for his aversion to human touch, for some unknown reason any form of closeness made him want to run away and hide.

[Wren Averett]

Wren gave the boy a shrug and a nod as he thanked her, indicating that it wasn't any ordeal for her.  It *could* have been, but it seemed like the bullies were leaving now, laughing at and mocking Wren's outburst as they went, having not taken the Southern spitfire seriously enough to be offended.  That was for the best, probably.  Wren had wanted to make her point, but she hadn't thought ahead on how to defend it from there.  As aforementioned, she couldn't fight.  And while their mocking angered her further, she wasn't going to provoke them now that they were finally leaving the poor kid alone.  Right now it was best to worry about helping him, and then go whining to Max about their next revenge victim later.

Wren noted how the boy pulled away from her, but she wasn't all that surprised.  He had just gotten beaten up, and it didn't seem like anyone at the school was nice to him.  At the most, they ignored him and his encounters with more aggressive students, so why shouldn't he be wary of her?  Seeing him act so timid and apprehensive made her wish she had done something sooner.  She had been more concerned with herself and getting established in this new place, and had simply hoped that the boy had some friend who would help him out.  Where did a new girl come off butting in bickerings with people she didn't know?  It was justifiable at the time, but now that she knew better, she wanted to flick herself in the eye.

"I'm Wren, and those guys are bitches.  So don't ya mind them."  Wren glanced over her shoulder, just a brief look to make sure they weren't still hanging around.  And luckily, they weren't.  "Do you want to go to the nurse?  He hit you pretty hard.  Your glasses are shot."

[Lister D. Reynolds]

LDR looked Wren over for a moment before placing his gaze down to the floor, focusing on a scuff on his sneaker. She looked harmless enough and LDR's mind did wonder for a moment before he dismissed any comments about her appearance. Knowing nothing about the girl Madame it all the worse to not analyse how she looked and acted. He tried to convince himself that her offering help just made everything worse but to no avail. For the first time since he came to this school he felt like someone actually cared, barring his sisters of course. The thought made him smile slightly but a wave of pain hit him. He tried his best to ignore and speak "I'll b-b-be fi-fine...g-got some wi-wicked healing p-p-p-powers..." More pain rolled through his head. The room span and only added to nausea he felt talking to the girl.

Even with enhanced regeneration there was nothing to stop the accelerated pain it brought with it as cells began to sew back together or untangle themselves. The wave of migraine forced him to lean against the lockers for a moment. He took a deep breath, aware of the swirling storm crashing about his head. For a moment he acidently made eye-contact and looked back down, mainly to avoid embarrassment partly to avoid slow down his dizziness. "I ju-just need to g-g-go to my d-dorm and sleep" This was no doubt unconvincing but he couldn't make this girl help him. He'd been dealing with these guys for years, he knew the protocol. Don't go to the nurse; they'll only tell a teacher and that will result in a increase in the viciousness or frequency of the beatings.

[Wren Averett]

Wren took note of the stutter, sucking on the inside of her lip for a couple seconds to resist any sort of surprised reaction. That was her typical reaction to most things like that, to try to look like she barely noticed it, like it didn't matter. Like she was such and accepting and nonjudgmental person that whatever fell on her would slide right off her back without the slightest reaction. Not that she wasn't accepting or nonjudgmental, but it always seemed like making a point of acknowledging such things would make her seem as though she wasn't. It really shouldn't have surprised her anyway, not with how the bullies made such an open point of mocking it.

Her brow furrowed as he leaned against the lockers, his breathing a bit labored and his expression pained. She could guess they were side-effects of the powers he told her about. She had some pretty bothersome side-effects too, and most of the people she met around here did. But that didn't make it any less concerning. Some side-effects could be more than just painful. Some of them could pose actual harm.

"Sleep?" Wasn't that bad to do after you hit your head? But then again, everyone knew their own powers and side-effects best, right? So...maybe he could just sleep it off? Ugh...Wren didn't feel right about that. He didn't sound convincing at all, and he looked like he was in pain. Plus his glasses were broken. And she wasn't sure if the nurse had anyway of handling that, but she did have everyone's insurance and health information and all, right? So if they were prescription, could she order more?

"How about we just breeze by the nurse for the hell of it? To make *me* feel better. Cause like...I don't know. I'm worried you might die." Wren shrugged and offered him a humored smile. Of course, she didn't really think he could *die*, but she was still concerned that he might need some looking-at.

She glanced over her shoulder to get an idea of who was around. No one really by this point. That had been the last bell and mostly everyone had cleared out by now, save a few stragglers talking to friends or rummaging through lockers.

"We don't have to tell them what happened," Wren said. "We could make something up."