How's the Craic? [OPEN]

He stepped into the lounge room, his brown eyes scanning the small room.  He adjusted his light orange jacket with one hand, the other holding a coke he just procured from the vending machine outside.  Fearghas got here two days ago and it was already a whole lot different then the secondary school he attended not long ago.  He just felt slightly grateful that he didn't attend a Gaelscoil and was fluent in English and Irish.  His new boat shoe's steps were muffled by the carpet as he moved to the love seat in the middle of the room.  He bent his legs and squatted softly into the couch, sighing lightly putting the can onto the coffee table coaster.  He proceeded to ruin that politeness and crossed his ankles, putting his feet up onto the table.  He rested his elbow on the arm rest, putting his fingers up to his forehead.  He would let out one more sigh, enjoying the silence and air conditioning.  He dropped his hand back onto the armrest before reaching out to the red can.

His fingers wrapped around the cold red can, pulling it into his lap.  He stuck his fingers under the tab, popping off the can, bringing it to his lips.  He cringed as the sugar taste exploded on his tongue.  He forgot everything was ten times sweeter in America.  He put down the Can o' Sugar and just listened to his own breathing and the room around him.  Sure it was kinda boring, but he not only expected someone to appear, but he knew silence like this probably wouldn't last forever.  He enjoyed it while it lasted.

How many days had he been here now? Two? A week? The days and nights had blurred together, all the hours merged into one seemingly endless moment. And so far he'd hated it. Sure it was likely because he'd kept largely to himself which was unusual as Thaddeus was typically a sociable creature. Perhaps it had been Elisabeth's unintended rejection on the first day that had soured his mood. Although, he still couldn't bring himself to forgive his father for sending him here in the first place. He wanted to be back home in Ireland, in their family home in Kirk. Instead he was here in a place where he knew no one and nothing. It sucked - to put it mildly.

The initiate shuffled down the hall, hood pulled up over his head. Thad had not bothered to keep up his regular good appearance, preferring instead to leave his dark hair ruffled. His green eyes stared out in front of him but he wasn't really paying any attention to anything he saw. That was until he reached the lounge room. Maybe he could hide in there for a short while. The lean youth sauntered into the room casually before coming to a sudden halt as he realised the place was occupied."Umm," he began a flurry of option causing him to pause. To hell with it, he thought. "That can any good?" he asked, eyeing the only thing he could think to use as a conversation starter.

Fearghas looked up from toying with the string from the hood on his jacket.  He smiled at a familiar sounding voice.  It was almost music to his ears to hear the sound.  What a coincidence, he looked up to the fellow boy raising an eyebrow, speaking in his own accent "If you want a pure can of sugar and diabetes, be my guest."  He took his feet from the table, adjusting his seating and stretching out.  He let out a small breath before looking at the fellow initiate, raising an eyebrow again.  He smirked slightly as he said "You look like hammered shite, lemme guess, you just got here from Eire too?"  He didn't feel to well himself, but it was the chance for a new experience.  His orange jacket was obviously ruffled and his jeans were worn yesterday because he didn't really go out anywhere his first day.  His medium length hair seemed to be almost styled to be slightly unkempt.  Of course that wasn't true, he just didn't run a comb through it in the morning.  His brown eyes examined the kid in a similar unkempt situation but he seemed kinda nervous.  Fearghas' composure was more relaxed, what was there to be worried about?  He didn't belong and everybody could tell when accidentally threw a Gaelic word into a sentence or just spoke in general.  But he didn't care, it was an all new world and he'd much rather have people get used to him then vice versa.

As soon as the other boy spoke Thaddeus couldn't prevent the wide grin that flickered across his features. For a moment he could almost forget he was in Beata and had somehow instead been conjured back to the Emerald Isle. Maybe being here wouldn't be so bad if there was at least one person with the ability to remind him of home. Home... Thaddeus dropped his hood and ran his long fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle it into a semblance of normality. He chuckled softly and shook his head. "I think I'll pass. Not too fond of the sugary stuff". While not entirely false, Thaddeus just wasn't partial as to how jiterry caffeine and sugar made him feel. It made him lack concentration.

The lean youth dropped into the nearest empty seat as the other boy continued to speak, sounding almost sympathetic. Thaddeus snorted wryly, a dry grin wrought upon his lips. "I think I got here a few days ago, but the time zone is screwing with my sleeping patterns... Though I was always a night owl back on the Isle," he added. The familiar cadence and syntax as well as word choice by the stranger had been enough for the dark haired teen to relax a bit more. "Flight was hell though," he went. "I'm guessing you had a similar experience?"

As he spoke, Thaddeus had pondered about the boy before him. Where in Ireland did he hail from? Did their families know each other? What was his gift? He kept these curiosities to himself though as he recalled how tight lipped Elisa had been.

Fearghas smiled, the flight was something.  It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, his legs were practically in his chest.  And dear God was Jet Lag a killer.  He wasn't sure if he had unpacked his stuff or just passed out when he made it to the school, but it's why he got the Coke.  Well, until it damn near gave him a heart attack.  He scoffed at the thought of it all, rubbing his face and looking to the other boy "It was a regular Hell I'd say so, but at least we're here now...not sayin' much I guess though cause we're like six hours ahead of...What state was this again?"  He pondered it for a moment, he knew he was in the US and was at Beata but forgot what state.  He just shrugged, it didn't matter much to him.  He looked back to the boy, nodding to him "I'm Fearghas, I'm from Barefield in county Clare, it's really close to Ennis."  He nodded once more to the new kid "Agus tú féin?"  He wasn't sure if the guy spoke Irish Gaelic but he knew he might as well give it a shot, why not? It didn't matter all that much and it made sense if he didn't, but Fearghas heavily supported every kid learning Irish at an early age like he did.  It was back to your roots, and you wouldn't just be speaking the language of the Brits.

Out of habit, Thad thrummed his fingers on his knee while he listened. For some peculiar reason, yet unfathomable to the tall lad, listening with an accompaniment of ambient rhythm seemed to help him remember the things he heard. The dark haired fifteen-year-old snorted at the inquiry of which state they when in and shook his head in a mock dramatic fashion "God only knows," he intoned, thinking about how little attention he'd paid to the surroundings on the taxi drive from the airport.

Nodding his head as Fearghas introduced himself, the child of Thaddeus Jr. couldn't help but arch a brow at the foreign language spoken. His grandfather had been adamant his descendants be knowledgeable of the native tongue and of their own family history. Even here it seemed the stringent traditions of the Devereux clan persevered. "Me? My family has been living in the lands around Dingle for a fair few generations," he responded in English before realising it had probably been rude to do so when asked Irish. With a slightly sheepish grin, the tall youth continued, "Mo ainm ar Thaddeus, but most people call me Thad or - yeah, most people call me Thad." He was about to add that his friends also called him TJ but that would mean having to give a reason and that would mean having to explain his family which he wasn't keen on.

Shifting forwards in his seat, Thaddeus wondered why he couldn't be at ease in this place as he had been at home. It wasn't the foreign nature of it all, and using the time zone difference sounded like a pathetic excuse. Maybe it was due to the unknown factor of everyone's gifts. "So, did you come voluntarily or did they have to lock you in a straitjacket to get you onto the plane?" he asked with a smirk to give sense that it was meant as lighthearted.

Fearghas smiled, he was happy someone around here spoke in a way he could understand.  He knew where Dingle was and that Dingle was the only town on the peninsula.  So he was holding something back about his name, but this guy seemed really on edge.  He seemed uncomfortable every which way he sat and was constantly messing with his fingers.  

"Thad it is!"  He said merrily, this guy probably needed something happy, or maybe a stiff drink.  He seemed smart and methodical , which was about half of how Fearghas was, sure he was smart about what he did, but he never really thought of things, he just did them.  He unlaced his fingers from behind his head and sat up when the other boy leaned forward.  When he finished his sentence Fearghas just laughed, the first day they said they were bringing him to a school with people like him, he thought they were just insane and belonged in a straitjacket instead.  After catching his breath he said "Nah, I was just happy they weren't bringing me to Europe, America is about as far from Britain as you could get.  I'm surprised Sinn Fein still has gotten as high up the political ladder as they should have, maybe we'd have a united Éire But whatever, either way I wouldn't want to go anywhere near Britain."  He shrugged, he didn't want to get in a political discussion with some guy he just came by so he proceeded to say "Listen, you seem really...On edge, something wrong?  Cause it is certainly a change from Éire, I'll give you that.  But just relax, you'll scare yourself gray.  Sin é an saol, Thad.  Just relax." He offered a warm smile, maybe he was just too relaxed, maybe he was supposed to be nervous and as one edge as his fellow Irishman, but he wasn't.  He could just be tired, but he knew that it was a new place and he was just happy to have met someone to relate to him on a level almost no one here could probably do.  Of course, he had only been here two days and barely met anyone here, so things could change, and he knew his temper liked to flare up.  But he decided to keep it cool and collected for now, though the room was kind of hot, he unzipped his hoodie, tossing it onto the couch beside him, revealing a white tee with a Phoenix bird across the chest.  He kinda felt it ironic he liked mythology as much as he did, it probably would have been bad to have his gift and not be into all kinds of mythos like he was.

It felt good to hear his nickname again, adding to the sense that this place could perhaps be not that bad if he would be able to make friends. Easy does it Thaddeus, he thought to himself. Don't get too attached - not just yet anyway. Stupid rules of his father echoing in his mind while he was trying to relax and be social. Honestly. He was thousands of miles away. Surely what dear ol' dad didn't know couldn't hurt him? Pale green eyes shifted back into focus as the lean youth chuckled at the comment about Britain. "Aye," he intoned, thinking back to the talk of politics and scoundrels that always seemed to accompany the topic of Ireland's neighbour. It did provide some interesting moments at dinner.

It had all been going rather fine and dandy till Fearghas told him to relax. Thaddeus stiffened, even as the sound of his native tongue reverberated in his ear once more. It was like he'd been found out, his secret being revealed so clearly for everyone to say. There was no one that he could remember ever being able to sense the truth behind his actions. Most tended to put it off to an attention disorder or just him being full of the energy and vigour of youth. But it wasn't the inability to pay attention, more that he was hyper aware of everything going around him. Perhaps it was due to his gift but he couldn't be certain.

Thaddeus gave an apologetic lopsided grin, though the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sorry, I just need to keep on my toes. Hyper-vigilant so that I don't let... my gift get the best of me." He had to be careful about his proximity to people. Even the slightest touch without him thinking could bring his gift to the fore. The Irishman recalled an incident with one of the house staff. He was only trying to prevent her from falling down the stairs... Thaddeus blinked, shutting the sounds of her screams from his mind as blackness consumed her.

A look of surprise flashed across Fearghas' features, somehow telling him to chill just heated him up.  He unlaced his fingers from behind his head, holding them up, palms out, with a relaxed gesture. "Okay, Touchy subject, I see and speaking of gifts, you probably don't want to talk of yours, but mine has a grand party trick."  He jumped subjects faster than a man on fire jumps into water.  He looked at his right arm, raising it up.  He let out a breath as he kept his arm outstretched in front of him. 

Suddenly, an orange feather emerged from his arm out of seeming thin air. Then there was a row, and he was smiling.  He was focused though, and the one that had started at his wrist area seemed to have multiplied and made one single line to his elbow.  As they began to form a short column on his arm, he released his focus.  Suddenly the first feather began to get just a bit darker orange, before engulfing itself in flames.  And soon his entire arm went up, and one by one the flames snuffed themselves out.

Once all was clear, Fearghas turned his arm to show all sides, which were completely clean.  Nothing was injured, his arm even seemed better than before the little parlor trick.  "Pretty class, eh?  I can pretty much catch myself on fire and still be suckin' diesel."  He dropped his arm back down, leaning back into the couch again.  "And it seems to heal me like how a phoenix resurrects if I take a spill and get screwed up, my arms'll at least be healed."  He offered a smile, just hoping Thad just forgot the question, it seemed when he looked in his eyes, it told a story that he didn't want to hear.  He just wanted him to forget, it seemed to be what kept him from connecting with the world around him.  He didn't understand what the kid meant, but he decided it would be better off not to ask.

Thankful that the message was read loud and clear, Thaddeus relaxed once more as Fearghas demonstrated his ‘party trick‘ of a gift. And it rather was quite grand. The lean youth opened his eyes wide as his fellow Irishman extended his right arm and slowly feathers of rich amber began to materialise along it. It was as if they had emerged from nothing, conjured with a single thought. It was quite an impressive sight - and that was before they suddenly burst into magnificent flame. Then almost as suddenly as it happened it all ceased and Fearghas was none the worse for wear.

Thaddeus whistled in appreciation. "Healed by fire, who would have thought," he mused. First Elisa had given him a mere glimpse of her emotional abilities and now Fearghas had displayed his gift. "So you pretty much can turn into a Phoenix?" he asked, still grasping as comprehension at what he had just seen. A wry smile adorned his lips. "Its a gift my father would appreciate. He's a fanatic for tradition and mythology." Thaddeus ran his fingers past his chin in thought. "Do you have much control? I mean, have you set things alight accidentally?" For some reason it amused him to think of the sofa suddenly bursting into flame.

Fearghas offered a small smile as he nodded to the first response.  "That's about it,  After long enough of studying the thing I want, I can start adapting I guess.  I've been workin' at the phoenix for donkey's years.  It's a slow process.  But what happens is if I focus enough, I can actually get the entire wing!  But then I get knackered out,  all light headed, I start to lose focus and the Phoenix in me burns." The mention of fathers brought him back to the night before he left with his own dad, it wasn't tearful like it was for his mom, but he still had to bring himself to realize he might not see these people for a long time.  His dad and him spoke of times before, what they hoped to be with after, he told him he'd better write and it better be in Gaelige.  He smiled, the man was stubborn, but taught him right and he loved the man no matter how much he hated change.

He almost missed Thad's last remark, he smiled as his mind was brought back to where learned of his power.  He said as he looked at his right wrist "We all find out about our gifts in one way or another." He leaned back looking to Thad as his brown eyes took on a dreamy tinge and a wide smile crossed his face.  "My dad came home quite sloshed one night, and we were messing around, pushing each other in the yard, it was somewhere near a year ago.  Well, he gave me a good one and I lost my balance-" He pointed to the vein on his right wrist "A nail the size of County Claire got me right there.  You shoulda heard me scream..." he chuckled "Like a little babby, I gripped that nail though, and I pulled that fecker right out, and as my da was trying to find bandages all I saw was that hole in my damn wrist!  I just looked at it, the pain was beyond what I thought I'd felt, and all I could focus on was that hole, suddenly, poof! A feather, then another, I thought "Am mé ar mire?"  I wasn't though, my dad walked out and I looked up when about ten of the orange things popped up around my wound.  Imagine my surprise when they burst into fecking flames!  It hurt a little bit less then when you put alcohol in a wound, and suddenly it's gone, and the grass next to my arm had a little bit of flame lick it.  Apparently all my paralytic dad could think of to do was jump on the little flame on to put it out!  So he lands next to me and he turns from the little scorch mark on the ground, and wouldn't ya know, it's on his brand new jumper!  Guess who slept in the doghouse that night?"  He kicked his head back, laughing loudly, the story always made him laugh, even if he still felt the pain vividly when he talked about it.  He ended up laying next to his dad for a good few minutes as his dad explained gifts to him.  It was a lot to take in, and he still couldn't believe the lack of wound on his wrist.  But it humbled him, he wanted to remember where he started,so when he started to think bad of other people, he'd think of the night he got belted by a nail-  And how he burned it all up for a new life.  He smiled still though, after catching his breath, he still had his dad, just a few thousand miles away.

Thaddeus listened carefully to what Fearghas was telling him. The lean Irishman could certainly understand the idea of focus and how using a gift to a certain extent can wear a man out. Regardless though, what he'd just witness was certainly quite a feat. The youth from Dingle then lent an ear to the tale of Fearghas and his father and of the night his gift manifested. In his mind Thaddeus could picture it as if he was there himself - no doubt in part to his fellow countryman's ability to weave such a fine story. He laughed as Fearghas' story came to an end, the comment about the doghouse causing to smirk in amusement. "Aye, I would say that perhaps the doghouse wouldn't be so bad if you've got your own heat source," he commented with dry humour.

The tall dark haired boy rolled up the sleeves on his sweatshirt before putting one arm behind his head and the other hand back down on his knee. "My story is not as filled with laughs," he began. The fifteen-ear-old had not initially planned to talk about his gift to anyone, especially not someone he'd just met. But Thaddeus was beginning to think that maybe it would be a good idea if a few people that he felt the urge to trust knew of his predicament, perhaps it would help him in the long run. "Apparently my family has had gifts for as long as anyone can remember, at least that is what my father told me." He scoffed, "But how much truth is in these tales I cannot say for certain."

The boy paused before continuing. "We call it 'An éirí', the moment a child discovers their gift. My father's a traditionalist and always believed it would happen to me on my thirteenth birthday - something about becoming a man. But it didn't happen. For two more years." Thaddeus took a deep breath before opening his mouth once more. "I remember it vividly. I hadn't been well that day, fever and nausea and aching body. My mother insisted on feeding me chicken soup and some vile medicinal mixture concocted from the herbs in our garden. She would also have our housekeeper's daughter check on me every few hours or so. Around three in the morning, I had finally finished my meal and was bringing my bowl downstairs. The daughter - her name was Mae - met me at the top of the stairs and took the bowl forcefully. I was only intending to tell her that I could do it myself, so I reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder."

Another pause before the words came again, this time in a rush. It was almost as if he was afraid he would never say anything should he stop now. "She screamed as soon as I touched her, and collapsed to the ground. The bowl rolled down the stairs, the sound of porcelain shattering bringing everyone out from their quarters. Mae kept saying she couldn't see, that everything was dark and I had this immense feeling of dizziness. My father summed it up swiftly. 'An éirí,' he said, 'Finally.' And then he returned to his bedroom. Everyone swiftly vanished back to where they came from and I was left to clean up the mess. I didn't see Mae again after that, and since then I've been afraid to be in close proximity to other people." Thaddeus lifted his left hand. "It's a bit scary to think that I may never be able to give someone a handshake, a high-five, even hold hands with a girl. Well, unless I learn to control it of course." His tale now told, Thad leaned back into his chair, awaiting for some kind of response. He felt like he'd just confessed to some crime, but surely Fearghas would understand. These students were all like him - weren't they?

[ooc: sorry, wall of text <3]

Fearghas opened his mouth for a second, not being able to form a coherent sentence, he let out a breath through his lips.  The youth's father was very traditionalist, much more so than he or his dad.  Sure there were some things he felt strongly about, but the gift was just something they kinda knew about, not really something that was so idolized.  He nodded his head as he he sat up when the story began to close and the youth sped up his speech.  Wow, he had quite the predicament, no physical contact...What a life.  He always shook people's hands when he met them and he was sure if he had his own girl he'd hold her hand, man Fearghas would be working nonstop to fix that not just be overattentive or whatever the boy said.  He didn't want to think too bad of the boy cause he was just that, a boy, but it seemed like his father had genuinely scared him, and it took work for gifts, Fearghas knew that well.  He chewed on the inside of his lip for a second before looking up to Thad, he shrugged and said "Then you'll control it.  Just work at it, as easy as that.  Rather than being super aware, just fix yer problem.  Inactivity is a problem amongst teens like us, I think a respectable young man such as yourself wouldn't want to associate yourself with those lazies, yeah?  You'll find a way Thad, we all do."  He thought the boy needed a nice hit of optimism, a well placed kick in the rear in the right direction.  He didn't want to think of suddenly going blind by brushing past the boy though, that seemed like an unfortunate chain of events that would probably make him hyper attentive too.  But work was all it took to solve problems, whatever type of work it took, Fearghas knew he sacrificed for just learning how to expand his own gift, it seemed like Thad would have work ahead that he'd like to plant the seed for.  Maybe he'd be able to get this worried, nervous wreck of a boy to be a bit more relaxed and jolly, Lord knew he didn't need the only other Irishman to be a sad one.