There's A Difference? (Kevala)

["Tuvlan"]

Sexual Differences
-Boys And Girls Bathrooms-

It took a while, it was harder to get through the whole facility of the school with it full of people, but he seemed to make due. He knew where tree was, knew that tree would not be moved around as easily, and that in a... fact... alone to himself was comforting to the boy. Stalking around hunched over, his eye looking around warily at all the strange looks people were giving him as his body was only just getting his energy back from the flu, he didn't realize it, but people were slightly disturbed by him. Typically, they already perceived him with the stigma that he would just smiling the loon, walking full of energy, and then attack for no reason. That mentally retarded kid.

What the boy didn't realize was that his overly serious, slightly slack mouth, scrutinizing eyes was breaking the comfortable stigma that he had long tied to himself. All that concerned the boy was the desire to relieve himself. A bathroom.

Cue the dynamic entry.

The bathroom appeared to be empty, even as he kicked the door open, not noticing how several people from the outside were staring at him as he did this. This looked no different from the other bathroom other then the fact that it had none of those exposed toilets that were hanging on the wall. What the boy failed to realize, of course, was that he was in a girl's bathroom.

Going for the closest one, he roughly kicked the door in, breaking the lock, but this didn't register, not immediately, that the door might be locked for some reas---

[Kevala Badoer]

Kevala had been at the school taking care a few loose ends and what not. It was another one of those days where things just did not seem to be going her way and she honestly just wanted to go home.

But there was one serious problem she needed to deal with before she got in her car and headed home.

SHE SERIOUSLY HAD TO PEE!

So, with a little grumble to herself she made her way into the restroom, and of course.....there was a line.

But not just any line..no this had to be a line of bubbly, giggly, stupid, air headed and gum smacking cheerleaders. Yeah perfect fucking day!

So she leaned against the wall, and she waited...and waited...and....

Wanna guess what she did next?

Yup. She waited.

One of the girls coming up to her and giving her the evil eye. You know, that look the snobby bitch ring leader of the popular girl click gives you because you dare to breath the same air she uses to fill her head? Yeah, that one.

"Fuck off bitch."

A low grumbled sound slipping forth from Kev as she stood there. Watching as the girl rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. Yeah, she could look but she was not brave enough to say shit.

Then, just like that, the last of them got done, clearing a path to the stalls. It was like the heavens opened up and the angels sang their sweet song.

Yeah.....She had to pee THAT bad.

So in she went, shutting the door and sliding the latch shut just as the herd of ding bats filed out and back into the rest of the school. Ah, finally! She was alone.

Pulling her pants down she proceeded about her business.

AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Interrupted by the sound of the door to the restroom being kicked open.

Okay then......somebody apparently REALLY had to go. More so than she did.

Which was fine, cause their were plenty of stalls around for whoever it was to use. Not to mention Kev was just about done.

But!

She did not really get the chance, because the next thing she knew the door was being kicked open.

What the fuck!!!

Not only was the door kicked open, just as she had stood to pull her pants up. A feat she had yet to accomplish....but the person who had done it was a guy!

Oh hell no!

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

She screamed without even taking note of who it was, her hand shooting out to grab the door and slam it back the other way. At least then maybe she could finish pulling up her pants!

Not that she was all that modest, but it was a matter of privacy! Gah!

["Tuvlan"]

Common Sense
-First Steps Of Learning-

To begin, its not that the boy couldn't identify with symbols. Just, usually, before the flu, no one had really bothered to explain to him the difference, he'd forget, and/or it all just hadn't really begun to click until now. Therein, to the poor girl who was just trying to relieve herself in peace suddenly freaking out with a "GET THE FUCK OUT!" (the phrase which did strike a chord within the boy's being in a very negative manner) at the "incoming pervert," the boy was really just thinking that for his own personal desires that he really, really had to go.

The door was slammed back in his face and he was screamed out. Strangely, he wanted to call out his typical war cry, his infamous 'Smash!' but there was some withheld reluctance, almost some sort of embarrassment. Coupling these new sets of mixed feelings with the immediate rage he felt at being denied what he was going out of his way to attain by himself, he roared incoherently in a furious manner, as he'd just as quickly bring up his foot to stomp-kick the door down, perhaps even to break the hinges down.

Provided that worked, the boy would then proceed to stalk forward, push the fallen door and the girl to the side (though he'd slide her with his foot to the other stall for some unconcious reason of wanting privacy himself), and begin to unzip himself.

If the door was just flung back with the hinges maintaining, the boy would charge forward, shoot his hands forward to try to push the girl out of the way (and probably behind him) and then take a piss that way. And after slamming the door shut, he'd do his second part of business.

If something else occurred that is not adapted to in the aforementioned, then he would react accordingly at that time.

It wasn't clicking yet that he had seen this girl before, nor that she was attractive, nor that she probably just wanted privacy as badly as he did (which was a new feeling for him, considering), amongst so many other dozens of things.

For a man who was just learning common sense, this was only just another fresh example of his gradual learning process that had been stopped up for the past decade and a half, a few years at a time in one go.

[Kevala Badoer]

Of all the freaking nerve! She got her pants up just about the time the enraged scream sounded out at the door flying back in his face. Though she had yet to button them when once more the door came back at her.

What the hell? Maybe they should just put revolving doors in here now! Either way she heard the hinges break and would jump back enough to avoid being completely hit with the door. GAH!

Then, just like that he was in the stall with her and shoving her out. ASSHOLE!

Stumbling back and tripping over said broken door and landing flat on her ass.

"What the hell is your prob..."

This is the moment she finally realized who the hell it was and for a moment she just stopped. Okay so now it made sense. Yeah she had seen him once before, when he had attacked her for no real reason other than to do so. And she had won! Heh. Not a very common feat for Kev.

But something was off....he seemed different. For one he had not attacked her, merely moved her, rather roughly out of the way, so he could pee.

Okay then, so yeah this was starting to make sense and honestly, she was still a bit pissed off but she could deal with it. She really did not want to fight the guy, again...No matter how fun it had been.

Grumbling lightly she would push herself up to stand, shaking her head with a light roll of her eyes as she turned to go and finish buttoning up her pants.

"Next time try the boys restroom!"

Yeah okay so maybe being nice was not going to be so easy. But come on! He had interrupted her! Not that she was sure he would understand that but still!

["Tuvlan"]

Attempts At Niceties
-"What We Have Here Is A FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE!"-

"What the hell is your prob..."

'SORRY, NO, GOTTA LET LOOSE.'
"SMASH."

---Well, that was the gist of what he wanted to say.

Except when he actually unzipped himself, he couldn't do it. He stood there, blinking to himself, his face growing red without understanding why---wait. Shifting his head uncomfortably behind his neck to look at her from the corner of his eye.

Granted, he didn't care that she was angry---not completely, yet---but he couldn't bring himself to do anything while she was watching. Standing there for a second more, he suddenly fixed his hands to zip up in front of him. He trembled as he did so, because he was about to loose and it felt, really, really bad having to forcibly back it up like that. Turning around his face scrutinized her.

"Next time try the boys restroom!"

'Th-There's.... there's a difference? Huh?'
"S...Smash...? Smash?"

He understood her. It didn't occur to him at the time that he did, but he understood her---perhaps not completely, but enough English was spoken to him to understand basic notes even as a total mental retard. Here... boys... girls... He'd heard the term 'boy' before, but aside from himself and a few other people who did not have coconuts made of jello of varying sizes hanging from their chests, he didn't really hear the term "girl" or "girls" that often. What the boy didn't know was that he was slowly categorizing things on a subconscious level.

And still, his face was red.

Shaking his head as if to throw off the feeling, he'd bend over and roughly pick up the stall door, before slamming it back onto the hinges. Obviously it fell down, but it held to some degree, leaning on the stall sides. Adjusting it several more times to make sure it was sturdy, the boy turned around again, unzipped even more nervously and suddenly, the spurts of relief were heard.

...Staccato spurts of relief.

It was very difficult to do this knowing that she was in the same room still while he was doing this. The boy had yet to understand his emotion/feeling of "embarrassment" yet, nor the concept of it... he just knew it on a very low, very primitive level.

'...I dunno...'
"...Smash..."

Remorse? His face was blank, even as he continued, her red face still freshly burned in his face, as he continued and attempted to continue going.

'...Sorry.'
"...Smash."

Empathy?

It was difficult. Much too difficult. The boy was forcibly learning everything he had already learned with every passing action and series of events... it was overwhelming and the feelings were...

...Feelings...?

[Kevala Badoer]

Kevala could not help but raise a brow as he lifted up the door and tried to fix it. Honestly she was not sure what was going on, but she felt that he was.....confused? frustrated? Something along those lines. Shaking her head, she moved over to the sink as she turned the water on and started to wash her hands.

When she spoke up again her tone was softer and a bit more understanding and nice. Though it was just in her nature to be that way to most people.

"Are you okay?"

It was a simple question, but one she honestly did not know if he would understand. She was not the type to walk off and leave somebody with such conflicting emotions running through them.

Curse her and her need to help others!

Gah!

She would wait then, turning off the water and moving to turn on the air dryer. You know the things that never really work but that they like to pretend they do? Yeah that.

Once done she turned to face the stall, hearing his sounds of relief and simply holding her silence for the time being.

She honestly did not wish to disturb, even though he had done such to her. It just did not seem right and she was not one to pick on a person just because they were different.

"You know. We have met before."

She would speak this softly, yet loud enough that he could hear her.

Leaning back against the wall now she crossed her arms over her chest, her head laying back against the wall as she looked about the empty bathroom. Honestly she did not know why she was bothering, she was unsure this would end in anything but a fight, but she was too nice a person.

DAMNIT!

No matter how hard she tried, she still could not COMPLETELY close herself off from the world. It was just not in her to do such a thing.

Her mind now wondering what had happened to this kid...because something had to have to make him seem so different.

It is none of your business. You should just leave. I mean honestly what are you still doing here?

No, you should stay and help if you can. You dont know what is wrong but it would be bad of you to do such a thing as walk away. Just wait, if he leaves you leave if he talks then you listen.

I know what to do, thank you very much. Just shut up and let me handle this. We will see where it leads.

["Tuvlan"]

I Want To Speak
-Two Different Languages-

The sound of the faucet perturbed the boy, but he proceeded with his business as best as he could. It was a blessing that he came to realize the purposes of taking a shower recently---he could actually begin, by simple observation, tell the difference of environment between this bathroom and the other bathroom---"boy bathroom" or however she termed it.

Bathroom. Place of hand washing, of bodily waste disposal.

Boy...

He was called boy many times. So were others of a similar bodily structure. Yes, but then, what were "they" called? The others? The ones with the mounds on their chest and weight gain on their hips? Seriously having to think it over, he noted only a little too late that he was "missing," before "aimed" again. Perhaps not really a "cool" thing to do, and the seat was still down, but it is reiterated that the boy was learning and etiquette was only just barely beginning.

"Are you okay?"

'Yes. No.'
"Smash. Smash."

Her voice had a tenderness that reminded him of the old orphanage days, but that voice was far older. The voice of the "her" (a term he also did not know completely by association/categorizing just yet) on the other side of the stall "door" had some other attribute to it that he didn't even realize just yet.

However, her speaking made it hard to...

...Well...

"You know. We have met before."

'Indeed.'
"Smash..."

It was irritating to the boy. He knew he could understand---not completely, of course, but he knew the concept of verbal English and was only beginning to understand the emotion and the grammar sides that the spoken word could have with its tones, but as it is often repeated, the basic understanding of the emotion was at least understood in some small way. What pained himself personally, as he began to zip up rather abruptly before turning about to "make sure he was decent," was the fact that the boy was very aware of the fact that he was just saying the same word over and over again.

Over and over again.

Over and ov---

'Gah-'
"Sma-"

She was the person he had spotted a while ago, before the time of "understanding." One of his more recent "playmates" he had... and this made sense in his mind... attempted to introduce to her "tree friend," though the more he thought on it, the less sense it appeared to make in the present time. His throat warbled quietly, but he didn't want to make it overtly "loud" since he didn't like how it made him feel in these current conditions. Those "embarrassing" feelings.

His throat and voice box were so geared towards the usage of only one word, it was on the verge of being painful to attempt normal conversation. Even imitative talk was seemingly impossible---but he couldn't stop the "Smash."

"Opening" the door after the quick flush, he slowly moved it to lean it on the side of the wall, before seemingly ignoring the girl to go and wash his hands. Only when he was done, drying them off on his dirty shirt and holding them to dry in front of his face did he notice his hands in the mirror---more then that.

There was water leaking from his eye, clinching at his chin. This was the first time that the boy had cried, was crying for some reason other then physical pain.

He didn't know why, but suddenly he had this "feeling" of "entrapment" within his own body.

Quietly, the boy turned around with a subtle shuffle of his feat, his hands still held before his face, the horror of who he was, who he wanted to be, and the truth of his past, present, and potential future with who he currently was slowly began to hammer itself into the largest amount of stress and pressure the boy had ever felt.

His eye looked, pleadingly towards the person before him, keeping a distance, as he tried to mouth the actual word, the same one coming out instead as always.

'Help.'
"Smash."

'HELP.'
"SMASH."

[Kevala Badoer]

She kept close attention to the boy in the stall. Her mind continuing to work over the situation as she heard the sound of his voice. Always with the same word, though the emotions behind said word differed with each attempt at speaking.

She cocked her brow slightly as she crossed slender arms about her chest. Yes indeed something was different about him and though this time around his emotions seemed to make more sense they were also jumbled and all mixed up.

It was confusion, loss, and something else she could not quite put her finger on.

This is what held her in place, even when it would have seemed to most that the boy was not really trying to speak to her. She had a feeling that perhaps he just couldn't.

Frustration began to seep into the air, growing heavier with every "Smash" that left his lips. It had never occurred to her that perhaps that was all he could say, and that maybe, that fact bothered him.

But then, it had not before. Had something happened as of late to change the mindset which this boy had lived by for so very long?

Curious......

Another thing that kept her rooted in place. She, for all her mental capabilities and strength, suffered from the affliction of being unable to escape from anything that peeked her curiosity. It was a dangerous thing indeed and had landed her into more trouble than it was usually worth, but still, she could not help herself.

The sound of movement within the stall drew her attention away from her thoughts, eyes shifting to the door which had haphazardly been placed back upon its hinges.

A soft sound, the sound of the door being touched upon would give her some sign that he was finally ready to exit from the broken stall and once again face her, though now the air was so thick with his own frustration it caused every breath she took to feel heavier and more irritating.

Not at him, it was merely a side effect of feeling such emotions from one person. She pushed it aside, knowing by now when one emotion was her own and when it was simply a feed off of somebody elses.

It would do no good in this situation to allow herself to lose her temper over something so trivial as his inability to communicate. It had not been so long ago that her own words had been locked away inside her mind, unable to escape in but short bursts and forced sentences. It had been torture. But at least she had been able to speak more than one simple word. Seeing it only now as a true blessing.

She remained silent, eyes following, always watching as he moved toward the sink, ignoring her presence though she felt that perhaps it was more that his mind was locked on a different matter.

Observations were made, the way he handled himself, the manner in which he mixed proper behavior with things that were not so "up to code."

He was learning.........

It was a simple thought and yet behind it held so much implications and so much power. Not power to her in any way, shape, or form. But power to him..to his situation. Power to the fact that there was change occurring and that in and of itself was a mighty thing.

Then, as her soft blue eyes shifted upward toward his face, she spotted the tears that rolled down his cheeks, just as he appeared to have done the same.

Indeed, frustration was thick, mixed with an almost panic. He apparently did not understand this act entirely, did not fully get why it was his mind only reverted back to that one word over and over again.

But then, these were just assumptions, based off of the actions he had played out and the emotions to which he seemed to be emitting.

She could always be wrong and most of the time she was, but this was a natural born gift that came with no instruction manual, it was something you either learned to live with and use to your advantage or you let it run you. Kev had chosen the first option and so far had been doing well to keep herself under control.

A single word, always with the same word, only she had figured out by this point to ignore the word itself and focus solely upon the emotion behind such as he spoke.

Again, another word as he turned toward her, more emotions. Ones that pulled at the part of her that was kind and willing to help.

Looking up into his eyes she saw the pleading look, just as her chest became heavy with whatever emotion he was now pouring forth.

Was it anger? No, not so much anger.....as....

She struggled to pin point it, trying hard to understand what it was he wished from her........

Realization.....

Stress.........

It all became clear then, combining all that she had observed with all that she had felt from him and coming to one basic conclusion, he was asking for her help.

Or at least she hoped that was right, because that is what she was going to go with.

"Help? Is that what you need?"

Her tone soft, soothing in nature, a cooed response that was meant to do one thing......calm him.....at least attempt to in some way.

A single step forward, her small hands coming down from about her chest to rest softly at her sides, her eyes remaining upon his own with a gentle look held within them. She was no threat to him unless he made it so and she wished to convey that as much as possible with every action and look of her body.

"I will try..But you have to try and calm down. I can help if you calm down. Do you understand me?"

She needed to get a better grip on what he was feeling, if he continued with this flurry of emotions and weighted pressure in the air, she was unsure she would be able to accurately identify what it was he wished for.

Calm gentle breaths taken as she took another step forward and then stopped. She was not scared of him, only worried about putting too much stress on an already frustrated and close to breaking mind. She did not wish to push him, unsure if he understood her words, unsure if she really could do anything to help him.

But when did that ever stop Kevala before?

["Tuvlan"]

OOC Note: And now, for dramatics. Apologies again for potential quality issues on my end.---Just did a quick look. Haven't done something this continously emotional in a while for the development in a character. Pardon if its a bit cheesy.

"What... I... ...Need?"
-Scream It Loud-

"Help? Is that what you need?"

Help? Need? These words were familiar, but whenever he tried to "think" only images played in his head, followed by an overwhelming series of voices and words that played with no end as he subconciously attempted to help himself while in reality hurting and breaking him down more. His lips quivered, as he tried to "think," to "understand" something else. His eye focused on her. Voice. A focus on the voice of the person before him. Focusing on the voice? Without realizing it, he was straining himself, his throat tearing itself inside out as he attempted to warble out some other word then just... that.

"I will try..But you have to try and calm down. I can help if you calm down. Do you understand me?"

'Understand?'
"Sm... Ash...?"

Step.

His hands at his sides, precariously, as if he didn't know what to do with them. Then slowly, he realized this and raised them up to his hands, and his mouth opened up. A silent scream. He kept on walking towards her and screaming without a sound, his eye gaping as open as it could, his mouth growing wider, as more guttural scratching noises etched through---he could still say it, but he didn't want to. The boy really, really didn't want to.

Slower steps. More silent yells, more strained crying, and then... gasping. Three feet away from the "her" unless the "her' had stepped away from him. Everything rushing at him at once. It would be impossible to attempt to convey what went on in his mind, as he stared at his hands, as he stared at everything, as he suddenly stared at his life.

Just the almost eerie sound of what attempted to be yelling in the subtle, whispering of the crying that came from his throat. Exhaustion finally shut it down, as he suddenly fell to his knees, trying to focus, trying to understand what the "her" had just said to him. He didn't like the pain in his knees from the impact, but there was no more strength in his legs to hold him up. And if the "her" didn't move out of the way now... she may or may not have regretted it.

His arms would suddenly come up, around her waist, as he'd suddenly attempt to hug her towards him, his face a mess, his eye red, the quiet sniffling growing quieter and flicked with stacattos. If he did manage to grab her, he'd hug her 'til it hurt. Hug her 'til his last vestiges of strength gave up on him and the side of his face would no longer be resting on her stomach.

And then the boy's face, arms, hands, body would keep still trying to hug onto her, to save himself from the horror of what he saw, what he heard, what he was without realizing what he may have been doing to her. And then he'd drop to the ground, still hugging, rubbing the side of his face to her shoes.

If she moved out of the way?

Hug himself.

Hug 'til his ribs were strained, to hit his face against the dirty floor, hug himself 'til his ribs would begin to crack, and then wheeze out from the sudden lack of air and be exhausted that way.

Either way... the pathetic state of man without the ability to communicate rested before the one called Kevala.

And in his stew? The slow, subtle sobbings that could not come out.

Silent, uncommunicated sobbings.

[Kevala Badoer]

Emtions, they seemed to flood the air, making it thick and heavy with every breath she drew in. She tried to breath normally, but in the end, she had to struggle for every single breath she drew into her lungs. Yet she did not move....for every emotion she felt radiating off of the young boy was something of hopelessness, fear, longing, sorrow....

She felt her heart, however closed off it might have seemed, starting to ache for the boy. She wanted so desperately to help him, but she did not know how. But then he would again try to speak, and again the same word came out....yet tshi time different than before.

It was clear then that he was trying to form normal words but that somehow that was the only one his brain could relay to his vocal chords to make it free of his lips.

Then he moved, slowly taking steps toward her, with a look of panic and need in his eyes. His hands up, his mouth agape.

Turn away. Leave now. Do not stay here and try and help this boy. No good will come of it and in the end it will only cause you more problems than you already have.

You cannot do such a thing. He is confused and scared. You cannot turn your back on him. Remember the way it felt when you were confused and scared and there was nobody around? Do not do that to another who has done nothing wrong to you.

For once she listened to them both, trying to decide what to do and found herself not moving. Allowing him to come near her and eventually fall to his knees before her. A wash of pain, though this time physical, came to the air. It was not a surprise given how hard he had landed, but she did not have time to dwell on that fact, for soon enough his arms were wrapped tightly about her, his head pressed to her stomch as she felt the need to breath begin to inrease....he was hugging her as though she were the only one keeping him afloat in this sea of madness.

She did the only thing she could think to do for him, which was comfort...Her small hand coming up and gently letting fingers brush through his hair. Her other hand lowering to softly pat upon his shoulder.

"Shhh...It is okay...I will help to make it better. I promise."

Again she was not sure that he understood what she spoke to him, but that did not stop her from trying. If nothing else she hoped that the soothing tone of her voice would help in some small way.

Pain flooded her as his grip about her slender waist tightened still. Yet she said nothing. She had been through worse and right now he did not need her to push him away..So with a deep breath and a heavy swallow she would continue to comfort the boy at her feet.

Then just like that he would drop down, this time his face brushing against her shoes as he started to hug himself, sobbing lightly. She did pull away at this point, but only to lower herself down onto her knees before him and place her hands gently beneath his head, lifting such to rest gently in her lap.

Once more she would resume with the brushing of her fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down,

"Shh.....it is okay. I am here. I will help. We can figure this out together...Okay?"

Her tone nothing more than a cooed whispered meant only for his ears and only as a way of ceasing some of his fears and sobbing. She was pained to see somebody like this, and would try anthing to get him to settle down just slightly.

["Tuvlan"]

OOC: This is going to be a bit short, I believe, since over at another's house, but hopefully... well... *bows* I am at your mercy.

Clean Hair

"Shhh...It is okay...I will help to make it better. I promise."

It had not occurred to him. No, not yet. Once more he was being petted and being touched, but the emotions had overdrawn themselves on his state of mind to the point of exhaustion. Only the softness of her words broke through in that instant, though it did not immediately take its effect on the boy. Emotions currently flooded over his memories and for a second, the boy could not understand as clearly, was in a muddled line of thought that threw him about at its own whimsy. It took a moment, as he progressed from her stomach down to the ground up to...

"Shh.....it is okay. I am here. I will help. We can figure this out together...Okay?"

...Her lap. Her touch, her warmth, her hands in his hair. Hair that no so long ago was crusted over with blood from the various blows he'd take to his head and from the splashes of his "playmates"...

The incessant crying, the tremblings, the quaking slowly began to stop the more she touched him, the more she held him with so much care in her hands, in her lap, in her...

...Scent.

All things considered, even with his memories, the boy was still uncertain as to what exactly was happening, but it slowly grew uncomfortable. So why did he want more of her touch?

A mother's affection, of course.

But men had other sorts of affection.

Still, because of what he understood, or more rather because of how little he understood, he stayed as he was.

She had calmed him, reminding him of the first person who had made him feel this way.

...And it only took over a decade and a half for the first one.

Calming down, he'd slowly push his hands onto the dirty ground to push himself, to look the person who held him in the face, gently doing so, so as not to show disdain for the touch, but to look at her face to face. He'd tilt his head, with his still reddened eye, looking at her as if to ask "why?".

'Better? How do I---'
"Smash? Smash sma---"

OOC Note: It is now in your hands. You have his naive trust. What will you do?

[Kevala Badoer]

(ooc: Mikey, your posts are always amazing and a fasination to read. No need to ever apologize to me. *nods* As for Tulvan, we shall see how Kevala takes to this. Also please forgive me if my post seems to ramble, but this is going to bring up a bit of Kevala's own history, which will be important with whatever she decides to do. )

As the young boy laid there, tears continuing still as was his tight grip about himself, her own small hand did not cease in its efforts to brush through his hair. To take away whatever pain, stress, or worry that her meager touch could possibly provide. Yet, as was true to her nature, she could not help but let her eyes and mind wander over his appearance. Making note of each and every detail. The voices in her mind coming forth as together they attempted to draw some sort of reasoning from this situation...

Does he have a family?

How could he? Look at the poor thing. He has been clearly neglected for a very long period of time. It is obvious that no one cares for this young man, in even the loosest sense of the word.

No, I would assume he does not. For even if their are people out there who claim him by blood, no respectable parent of family member would do this to their child. So therefore, I shall not even give them the respect of considering them his family....Though I am more inclined to believe this young one has grown up in a much more unsavory place...Such as an orphanage, foster care, or perhaps somehow managed to muddle through life on his own.

That thought alone sending another shock wave of anger jolting through her body. She herself had known of a mother who cared only for herself, who thought of her and her sister as nothing more than monsters and treated them as thus. Unsavory living conditions and practically starving them while she wasted her life away on drugs and sex with random strangers.. That is of course until child welfare had come and taken them away. Then it had been on to orphanages that constantly neglected the well being of the children it housed...Foster homes, where less than savory people with nothing better to do, would take in child after child, abusing them as they saw fit and making them their own personal little house slaves . All for the sake of the money they government gave them.

It was sickening….beyond all reason, and it pulled at the part of her that still desired to nurture and care for those who truly needed it.

What are you thinking? You do not need the added stress in your life.

Perhaps you could seek him out some form of help?

No, I am not about to go try and find him some place to stay where they would just as likely treat him badly…Not to mention strangers are always scary, even to me….I would never do that to him.

It was something that was already made up in her mind, though she honestly she could not pin point when it had happened…..She just knew that he was in need of help, and that he was alone…It was a sense she got, one that told her he had nobody who ever really truly cared about him…at least not in quite some time now….Fingers lifting up a stray lock of his hair, blood long since dried in place and matted over….

How many times had he fought people and lost? How many times had it been simply because of the fact he was different than others?

Kevala might have been a lot of things, might have been criminally, and clinically insane…Might have had a hunger for the….darker…side of things….But she had one thing that so many people lacked in this world these days…A heart….A very big heart at that….It was constantly getting her into trouble, and yet no matter how she tried she could not close it off from the world.

Just like right now, she could not simply turn away from the body who’s head rested upon her lap. Perhaps if she had walked out the door without bothering to ask him why he was in here? Perhaps if she had just turned and left when it became clear that he could not speak?

No….She knew that….Because deep down, she would have felt horrible and would have eventually sought him out to find out just what was wrong with him. It would have led to the same conclusion she now held in her mind.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as she felt his emotions begin to slow, begin to calm…A soft, gentle smile curling onto her lips as she continued to sooth him. Happy that it was working at least to some extent.

But then he began to shift, his movements slow..perhaps an attempt at showing her he did not wish to pull away from her touch..that he did not disapprove? She was not entirely sure, but she would not move from her position.

As his eyes met her own, his head tilting slightly, she got the jist of what it was he was wanting to know, his words again coming out the same as always, though she had already figured out that inside he was trying to say something different.

Again her mind wandered for the briefest of moments…thinking on how the world outside must have looked upon him…As a boy with no real emotions..People were ignorant and thought that simply because a person was ‘different’ as he clearly was, then they must not feel like the rest of us either. It was another thing that only succeeded in making her anger increase. She knew he had feelings, more so than most people she had met, and no telling how many times simple acts against him had hurt him or angered him, or affected him in some negative way…

Well she was not about to be one of those people. She was not about to let one ounce of fear show in her features…Because honestly, she did not fear him, and she did not wish him to think for one instant that she did.

She knew all too well what it felt like to be considered a monster…Told your entire life that you were nothing but a freak of nature, that you were good for nothing…that you should just die….Gods could only hope that nobody had done such horrible acts to him as they had her…but she would not doubt it. Human nature dictated that people be cruel to those who were different….If for no other reason because they were scared of those who were not like them. So the chances ran high that he had indeed suffered as much if not more so than her……

In her twisted and caring mind, it was something that connected them, though only she could ever really see it….

She thought of all the years alone, fending for herself, struggling to make a life for herself and wishing that she had just one person who truly cared for her……

Well, she was not going to leave him to that fate…Nobody deserved to be alone like that. Especially not him. So, with that smile still in place, she reached her small hand up slowly, her soft fingers brushing back a bit of his dirty hair from his face as she tilted her head slightly as well., offering the gentlest look she could manage to show him that indeed all was well…that she meant no harm in any way…..

“I am going to help you…I promise…”

A gentle brush of her fingers to his cheek…Not in the sexually seductive manner she was somewhat famous for, but more in the soft, affectionate way a mother comforts a child.

"Everyone needs help sometimes sweetheart."

Her words stopping as she decided she needed to approach this in a new manner. Yes, he had seemed to somewhat understand what she was saying, but she needed to know to what degree….Perhaps if she tried something new?

Looking about for her bag, she spotted it not far off, leaned against the wall. Her hand coming up in a motion for him to stay put, as she shifted to stand, moving to grab her bag and then returning to sit down, leaning against the wall not far off from him.

As she opened the bag she would then pull out her notebook and pen, flipping it open and starting to draw….Soon enough she would look up, assuming he had not moved further away or had not followed her, she would motion for him to come a bit closer….That calm smile still in place as she did so….

If he did not, she would simply go to him. It mattered not to her…..Then, once he was beside her again, she would turn the page toward him…This was a long shot but she had to try…….

Upon it was a picture of a house….very clearly drawn out, thanks to her ability as an artist….She would then point to the picture and then to herself…..

“My name…is Kevala….This is my house…….”

Those icy hues watching him intently to seek out any form of understanding….

“Do you want to come home with me?”

Again her hand would move, this time pointing to him and then to the picture and then to herself….

“I help you.”

Was she sure that she could do this? Not entirely, but she was sure that she could at the very least give him something good to look back upon one day…Which was far better than she had ever had.

She was so unsure of herself in this moment, unsure if she would make him angry by going so simplistic on her method of explanation, or if perhaps she was not making any sense at all.

But still she continued……Knowing that his words at the moment would only come out as the ones he had been speaking this entire time….

Nodding her head she would speak once more…

“Yes?”

Not stopping to shake her head……

“Or no?”

Supposing that if perhaps she gave him a simpler way of communicating with her, it would take some of the stress off of him that he underwent every time he tried to get the words in his mind to form on his lips.

She would now way, it was all she could do really….She would sit here, for as long as it took, being the affectionate, nurturing soul that so few ever got to see, because so few ever cared to look that deeply into her…She would remain in this position, working with him, until they had found some method of better communicating…..She wanted him to see that he had a choice in this…Never would she dare force something upon him….Mental disability or not, he was his own person, and thus deserved every single right that the rest of the world shared……And she would make sure that he got it…..If of course he gave her the chance. Those eyes continuing to study him closely as her mind searched the air for his emotions. She was using every trick she had to try and figure out how to better understand this young boy instead of giving up and calling it a day. She only hoped that perhaps he would find it somewhere inside him to trust her enough to allow her the opportunity to help him.

Though if he walked away, she would understand, and simply have to find alternative means of helping him out, even if he did not know that it was she who was doing it.

(ooc: Again sorry if it just rambled on, or if it is , for lack of a better term, lame…But been under a lot of stress the past couple days and it is taking its toll. I apologize if this is not what you were hoping for. Feel free to let me know…--Sarah )

["Tuvlan"]

Idiot Savant
-Communication In Different Forms-

“I am going to help you…I promise…” she said, smiling that smile. Touching him in that soft, careful way, moving the hair from his eyes, while he did nothing but watch.

A touch. A tilt of head.

"Everyone needs help sometimes sweetheart."

A brush. Like a dog, the boy moved his face closer to the touch against his cheek, before quietly pulling his face back to its original position---before she got up to look around. The boy sat, pressing his hand on the ground with the intention to follow until he saw her point back at the ground. To "stay." Huh.

Whatever was going on, the boy relaxed, complying for the moment, as he looked to the ground, sniffing a little still as he'd rub use his right hand to rub his eye with his wrist. Why? ...It didn't feel like it would be good to rub his face with the palm of his hand right now. A subtle way of knowing that it was dirty and unhygienic.

He only noticed half-way through her secondary motioning that he should approach. Getting up on all fours (as he wasn't feeling to strong), he craned his back 'til he could get his stride into a walking motion.

---A picture.

His eye gaped at it.

“My name…is Kevala….This is my house…….”

...Kevala. Kevala House.

So, houses were places that people lived in? Did they have full access to them? That was what "Warmth" took him too? Were there many different kinds?

Buzzing. A light drone of questions that he could not communicate grew, but it wasn't painful. He was inquisitive, curious, watching.

A few kind words.

“Do you want to come home with me?”

...Home. A place where it was warm, where there was shelter, where there was food prepared or food to be prepared. A place filled with... That's right. A place filled with essentials, with personal things, and sometimes just with things. This person would care for him? Was this normal standard?---No, it was only recently that he began to be treated like this.

She was pointing at him. Next, the picture. ...Next, to herself.

“I help you.”

...

Understanding. Strangely, he felt as though there were some words being left out. But he couldn't claim to understand what she was doing, how she was simplifying it for him.

“Yes?”

...What was she...?

“Or no?”

A look of declination. Body language. Body language---the facial expression. The boy was tempted to play with it---but he didn't, as the atmosphere felt so terse.

How to communicate himself, through his body...?

How.

The face of the boy brightened, though he wasn't smiling, as he looked down, proferring his hand a bit clumsily, asking for it. If she didn't give it, he'd go onto the next step, but if she did... He'd gently pull her, to indicate to her to stand on her feet, and then would use his right hand to massage her wrist, before plying his thumb softly so that the palm could go to his face. He'd lean into it, and nod forward. A "yes."

...Almost reluctantly letting go of her hand, he'd... the boy would smile. This had happened once before. This girl... "Touch" had the same feel as "Warmth" in a few ways. What the boy didn't know was that it was the "motherly" trait in women.

A need he didn't know he... needed.

The thought of going into a... "home"... That gave him energy, with no reason to mistrust that he knew of. The redness in his eye was still there, but it had faded---

And he'd go to his knee, if she hadn't kept the paper as the next, and would make a pulling gesture, as if he wanted it---He'd stand up and look to her, before pointing out both his forefingers in front of him, tilting his head, as if to look at what he himself was doing, and to draw a box.

A blank piece of paper...

...And from the scribbling motion he made in following with his right hand onto his left hand?

...A pen or pencil.

Body language. He was watching her, filled with what he could only say was "good."

In his own way... the boy was "talking" for the first time.

The boy smiled, closing his eye in gratitude, regardless.

OOC: And... after taking so long... a post!

Take 'im away! ^_^

[Kevala Badoer]

No matter how her actions may have come across, she did not intend to have treated him like a dog...She thought of him as anything but.

In her eyes, he was a boy in need of help and kindness, something that was hard to find in this world, let alone this place where every other person was looking to kick your ass. The thought causing her to feel angered inside. She hated the fighting, and though she did so herself, she did it for a simple reason.....To keep from being the one that people beat up on just because they were bored.

As she tried to get him to understand her, those icy hues kept watch over every move that he made, holding special attention to his eyes in a search for some form of understanding...Some show of recognition.

Finally, it seemed that she got just that, as a hint of knowing seemed to fill his gaze....Causing her to smile a warm and motherly smile without even realizing that she was doing it.

What was she doing? She was nice .... sure... But to take in a boy whom she had only met one other time in her life and try and care for him? It was insane.....

But then, Kevala was anything but normal.

He then moved, his hand coming out to take her own, as his thumb brushed against her wrist, his head leaning into her hand as he nodded.

A yes....

It should not have made her heart happy that he had understood or that he had agreed, but it did none the less...A light airy feeling of warmth seemed to overtake her. Perhaps it was her nature to care for those who needed it instantly...Or perhaps it was the mother in her stepping forth, taking the lead in this scenario and demanding that she mother this boy to the best of her ability.

Whatever it was, she did not fight it, but instead would let her hand come up to brush back a bit of his hair from his face...attempting to tuck it back behind his ear as she tilted her head lightly to the side.

"Good. I will make it better. I promise."

It was a simple vow, one that many would undoubtedly speak and then let fall away when they found the task too hard or whatever...But not Kev...For little did the boy know..that for her to promise something was as though she were signing her soul away to it...She would forever devote herself to helping him until he did not need her anymore...or did not want her around...Whichever came first....

Kevala was above all else...loyal to her promises..No matter what they may be.

Continuing to stand there now, she would watch him as he seemed to try and communicate back with her now. His motions being taken for what she supposed was a request for the paper and pencil she still held in her hands.

Holding them up, she would raise her brow and speak up softly....

"This?"

Offering them out to him, as she waited to see if he would take them. If he did, she would allow him such, before moving to grab up her bag and sling it onto her shoulder...If he did not take them, then they would be placed back in her bag before she retrieved it.

Either way she would then smile, turning to him once more as she held out her empty hand, a gesture for him to take it if he so chose....Or if he understood.

"Are you ready? We can go home and get something to eat."

She thought that perhaps he may be hungry...or at the very least in need of something warm and home cooked....EVERYONE loved a good home cooked meal and Kev was an amazing cook.

Now it was up to him...because she refused to try and force him. He needed somebody to be kind and gentle with him right now...every instinctive part of her told her that.....So she would be just that....If he chose to stay here longer then so be it...

There would be plenty of time for her to work on being a bit more stern later...for now, she just needed to get him home and out of the girl's room before some of those snobby bitches from class came in and caused some kind of scene....That was the absolute last thing she needed.

Never once did the smile leave her face as those icy hues remained upon him.....Already feeling a need to protect him....already feeling a need to mother him......Odd really, but something she could not help.......

(ooc: Sorry for the delay, I had computer issues and then muse issues....just bleh.....I HOPE that this post is okay...it is not my best......*headdesks* But yeah...there it is.. Hehe <3 )