On First Impressions and Assumptions

Who: Blake and Nicodemus
Where: 1st Floor, Foyer and Ballroom Closet
When: Late Morning

After leaving Dan's room, Nic had returned to his own, changed into real clothes, and started down towards the ballroom, intent on finding some pants to go with his costume. If he couldn't find camo pants, he was going to have to go with something else. They were essential to completing the outfit. But the closet had everything he could imagine in it. His only concern was someone else stealing them away first. Nic hurried down the stairs, heading through the foyer as he cut towards the ballroom.

Blake got back into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. He still hadn't gotten a good look at the house. Running around trying to find the doctor hadn't really given him anytime to get a handle on his surroundings. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to a large, open foyer. Try as he might, Blake couldn’t help but feel awed. This house was bigger than any place he had ever seen. His eyes locked on the large hanging chandelier, Blake made his way further into the room, not noticing the other man in the room at all.

“Shit, that thing is fucking huge...” he muttered, turning around to keep his eye on the chandelier. A few more steps backwards and Blake bumped into something behind him. Blake spun around, mumbling apologies and sticking out his hands to make sure the other person didn’t fall. “Ah, shit, sorry buddy.”

He hadn't been paying attention, it seemed, and was running into someone before he even realized they were there. His thoughts had been muddled all morning, back to Dan and Zhen, the things they'd talked about the night before, and it resulted in him running into people. Nic stumbled backwards, happy to have kept his footing. "It's okay," Nic said, offering a small smile. "I wasn't watching where I was going." The guy certainly couldn't be blamed for that. "Just wandering around?" he asked. Something about him seemed new. He was starting to learn to spot it, aware of how he must have looked himself not even a week ago.

Blake cocked his head to the side slightly his hair falling into his eyes as usual. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Eying the other man over, Blake took stock of what he saw, mentally cataloging everything he could. When he was satisfied that the man meant him no harm, at least, not at that moment, Blake stuck out his hand. “Name’s Blake,” He said, a slight smirk slipping across his face.

"Nicodemus," he said, taking Blake's hand and shaking it soundly. "Did you just get here this morning? Or have we just managed to miss each other?" He nodded his head in the direction he was heading and hoped Blake would follow. If he wanted a bit of a tour, Nic would give him one, so long as it followed a few of the path's he needed to take. "I'm going to the ballroom to look for a costume. Wanna come?"

“Sure.” Blake fell into step beside Nicodemus, unconsciously making sure he didn’t get too close. Crossing ‘personal space bubbles’, as his shrink had put it, was something Blake liked to avoid. And He’d already had way more personal contact than he wanted this morning. “Nah, I got in this morning. There is a ballroom in this place? Jesus..”

It seemed like a good morning to arrive, Nic thought. Quiet. No drama. At least not that he'd noticed. Of course, he hadn't known Jesse was slitting his wrists open the morning he'd gotten there either. It was hard to tell, unless it was announced to the entire house. "It's huge. Ridiculously huge. There's a pool in the basement, a ballroom on this floor, plus a theater. A library on the second floor, and a greenhouse in the attic, which is above the fourth floor. Anything you're looking for, I'm sure it's here somewhere," Nic said, leading them along. "So, where are you from?"

“How bout a nut house? Seems that’s what I need...” Blake mumbled under his breath. “I guess it works though,” he continued a bit louder. “Never have to worry about being cramped.”

Blake ran his hand through his hair, pulling the strands out of his face, and glanced over at Nicodemus. “Connecticut.” He said shortly, not wanting to really talk about his past at all. “What about you?”

Nic raised a brow, looking over at the other boy. "I've heard there's a padded room in the basement," he said, teasing but curious about what would bring about such a comment. All they needed was another crazy running around. There were enough of them already. "Texas," Nic said. "Been here about a week. Things seem quiet today, at least so far." At least, for him. He wasn't sure about Blake, but he'd wait to see what was volunteered before prying.

“Quite?!” Blake looked at Nicodemus in shock, eyes wide and eyebrows scrunched together. “There are people deathly sick around every corner in this house and that is supposed to be quiet?” Blake pulled his hand through his hair again. “Jesus Christ, this house is going to kill me. I might get to use that padded room yet.” He muttered, shaking his head.

"Calm down," Nic said, steps slowing as he held out a hand. "There are people sick today?" He wasn't, not even for one second, under the impression that it was natural. If one person had a cold, fine, but if more than one was suddenly deathly ill, then the game was back on and he had yet to notice. "Who's sick? What happened?" he asked, wanting details before he got pulled in. "Are they okay?"

Blake stopped short of Nicodemus’ hand, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes,” he hissed, “there are people sick. I don’t know who exactly. You’re the only person I’ve actually gotten a fucking name out of...”

Blake cocked his head to the side, trying to remember who he had seen down stairs. “Well, there was the guy upstairs. I don’t know what his name was, he wasn’t exactly talkative when I found him. And there were already a couple people downstairs when I went to go the doc for him- who also is missing in action, but I don’t know if he’s sick or not... I can’t remember what that nurse said. And I don’t know if they’re alright, I know absolutely fucking nothing about sick people, but they certainly didn’t look alright.” Blake heaved a much put-upon sigh. “Some first morning.”

Wow. Both of Nic's brows rose, amazed that Blake could get so agitated so fast, yet sure he might have had the same reaction if he'd stumbled on it the first day. Nic sighed, changing their path towards the kitchen, at least for now. "I haven't met her, but the nurse's name is Zoë. She mentioned on the journals that Dave, the doctor, is sick, but I didn't realize anybody else was." And it wasn't helping that Blake didn't know who. "If you went and got Zoë, that's all that's necessary. You're not expected to know anything about sick people. You want a cup of coffee?" It amazed him that he could be so calm about these things now. He guessed that's what large amounts of drama did to him.

Blake followed Nicodemus into the kitchen, not really paying attention to where he was going, more intent on Nicodemus’ reaction to the news. The man was just downright nonchalant about it. Blake sighed. “Yeah, sure, coffee... I’m not high strung enough, yet,” he replied with a crooked grin, slipping into one of the stools at the counter.

“So, I guess this kind of drama happens a lot around here, then?” Blake remarked, fiddling with the worn sleeves of his tee-shirt, and watching Nicodemus’ face for a reaction. Blake had earned a long time ago that the best way to get a handle on a situation was to watch other people’s reactions to it.

Nic laughed. "Okay, not coffee. Something. You've had a stressful morning and that's understandable. I've just yet to figure out what the cure is." Because what was he supposed to offer. If he'd been a girl, Nic was thinking chocolate cake might do the trick. Somehow he doubted Blake needed a sugar fix though.

"Not specifically this kind, but yes," Nic said, shrugging with an apologetic smile. "A guy tried to commit suicide the morning I got here. Then few days later, someone hung me up in the meat locker. So I guess a few sick people don't seem like anything big by comparison. I just hope Zoë can handle it."

“Got any thorizine?” Blake asked, shaking his head at himself. Getting up from the stool and making his way to the fridge, Blake continued. “What kinda food do they stock in this place anyway?” Blake cast a glance over his shoulder as Nicodemus continued, stopping short of the fridge.

“Someone hung you in a meat locker? Ok it is official, I have signed myself up for a year of torture in a house full of nutcases...” Blake said with a slight nod. “Good job, Blake. Ha, and you’re the one trying to find the cure for my bad morning. What are you, some kind of saint? I’d be hanging people out the windows if I were you.”

Nic was quickly becoming less than impressed. Blake was making snap judgments about him and the other occupants of the house, just on what little he'd heard. Perhaps it was better not to tell people the truth. Some just didn't want to hear it. Nic had thought everyone would want to, as a warning, but here it was only serving to make things worse.

"We're not all 'nutcases'," Nic said, smile no longer on his face. "If you'd rather not know, so be it, but don't ruin my day because you're as ass. Now calm the fuck down." So... perhaps he was a poor welcome wagon. He wasn't going to deal with it though and he wondered if he'd annoyed Rebekah quite this much the morning he'd arrived.

Blake leaned against the fridge, crossing his arms over his chest and a crooked little smirk on his face. “Ah, so not such a saint after all.” He said, his voice full of sarcasm. “And I am an ass, which I would have told you straight off... maybe I should start doing that. ‘Name’s Blake, the ass’... think that would save people a lot of trouble in the end.” Blake stood there smirking at the man, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that he was doing this wrong. Wasn’t he here to try to learn to get along with people? Yeah, he was off to a great start there.

With a sigh, Blake pushed himself away from the fridge and walked closer to the man. “Alright fine, I shouldn’t have said you were all nutters.”

"You could, but it won't make you many friends." And to live in this house without support? That would be hell. "Depends on if you want to alienate yourself. Come across as the bad guy, and you'll be the first person people look to when things go wrong. And they do go wrong." He couldn't imagine anyone wanting Everett coming after them, but if Blake wanted to make it that way, he wasn't gonna argue with him.

Nic stayed where he was, watching closely as Blake approached. "We're a bit sensitive, I suppose. If we're crazy, then you must be as well. Seems to be the quality they look for in admitting people to the fun house."

“Mm, never been too good at that- the making friends thing- in case you couldn’t tell.” Blake ran his hand through his hair again. Trying to fix having been an ass was definitely harder than being an ass. He scratched the back of his head, trying to think of something to say that would steer the conversation back into friendly territory.

“Ok, so I take it back. You don’t seem like a nutcase, and even that nurse didn’t seem too bad- a bit stressed, but not nuts. Maybe I’m the only nutcase in the house?” He joked with a slight grin and a quite chuckle. “And that guy who hung you in the meat locker. That definitely doesn’t sound like the actions of a normal, well-balanced human being...”

Well, you're screwed, Nic thought, but knew there were other people that were far more difficult to get along with in the house and they were doing just fine. "It's just nice to have people on your side in case you're sick, or trapped somewhere, or hung up. I'm not suggesting you be mister nice guy. It's just probably not in your best interest to piss people off in the first five minutes you meet them."

Nic sighed, willing to give him a break since he seemed to be chilling out a little. "I'll admit, there are a few. I doubt you're one of them unless you're already planning to kill someone? Please say no." He laughed bitterly, then shook his head. "Usually, it's the people that run this place that inflict things upon us. The meat locker incident was a special case. We've yet to figure out who did it."

Blake resisted the urge to defend himself. He hadn’t meant to piss anyone off. Honest. “Ah, no. Death and I really don’t get along well. There will be no killing from me.” Blake tipped his head to side, looking past Nicodemus for a second. “Unless maybe I could get my hands on the people who run this place...” Returning his gaze to Nicodemus’, Blake tried to give him a smile, though he didn’t feel like it worked all that well. “Just kidding.”

Nic laughed at that, even if Blake had been just kidding. "Oh, no. I'd be with you there. I'd love to get my hands on them. So would everyone else." But they were stuck there, weren't they? Unable to do anything about it. Nic let it drop, as it was an unpleasant subject at best. "So, unless people really bother you, we're having a party tonight. I'm sure you're welcome to come, Zhen invited everyone, but you've gotta come find a costume first." Nic waved him to follow, heading towards the ballroom.

“Zhen?” Blake asked, trailing behind Nicodemus. He really didn’t think a party was going to be a great end to his day- too many people and not enough time- but if Nicodemus wasn’t sick of him yet he could follow him around for a bit while he got his bearings in the house. “A costume party, eh? Haven’t been to one of those in a while...”

"Yeah, she's this really cute little Asian girl. Extremely hyper. You'll see when you meet her." Nic couldn't say much more without explaining that he'd met her only the night before, when he'd found her in his bed. It was an odd story, but he'd come out with a close friend because of it. "Anyways, she's throwing the party. Seems like a good reason to do something fun, though if people are getting sick, that could be a bad sign." He didn't want it to be, though, as he knew Zhen had put a lot of work into it. They stepped into the ballroom then, and Nic headed towards the closet. "This is the ballroom. I'm assuming it's where the party will be."

Blake looked around the large room, blinking as echoes of his foot steps reached his ears. “This house is huge. It’s not even a house, its like a... a palace or some shit.” Blake turned around in a circle, taking in all of the large space. “I am never going to get used to this place...”

Taking a few more steps into the room to examine the space better he replied to Nicodemus in a distracted tone. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. There are a lot of people around here, right? There were only a couple of people down stairs when I was down there...”

"It's kinda like living in a hotel," Nic supplied. Food was provided, areas cleaned when no one was looking. They each had their own room, with little names on the outside. It might be like going to some creepy some camp for a year long stay. The whole thing was just bizarre and he wasn't sure why he hadn't thought so before getting there.

"I'd say there's about forty of us, so if there were only a few downstairs, it can't be that bad. Maybe just a bug or something. Maybe the flu." 'Maybe' may ass, Nic thought. They'd been shot up with something during the night, he was sure. At least he was still feeling okay. If it was bad enough to be down on the doctor's level, he'd have noticed by now.

Blake turned around, glancing at Nicodemus for a moment before turning back to the large windows facing out onto the patio. “Yeah, a bug or something.” Neither f them really believed that, Blake could tell from the way Nicodemus had said it, but hell if Blake knew what else it could be. It wasn’t just some bug, though. Of that he was sure.

“So where are these costumes you were talking about?” Bake turned back around, a small smirk on his face. “What are you going as anyway? God forbid we should show up in the same thing,” he joked dryly.

"I'm going as a soldier," Nic said, opening the costume closet. "I highly doubt there's any chance of that." Inside, there was almost every costume imaginable, as if they were expected to put on a play at some point and were going to be the full cast themselves. Nic wasn't sure why it was included, but it was coming in handy now. "Even if someone did, the point is to have fun. We're trying to relax a little." God knew they needed it.

“So, uh...” Blake peeked his head into the closet. “In excess is a popular thing with these people huh?” He asked, eying all the various costumes inside. “Mm, well I hope that works out for you guys. Sounds like any type of relaxation you can get is a good thing around here...” Blake picked his head up and looked at Nicodemus, an unsure expression on his face. He opened his mouth, ready to ask the other man if things were as bad as they seemed in the house, but quickly closed it again. Maybe he didn’t really want to know that, and Nicodemus seemed to be the honest type, so far. “So, when does this shindig start?”

"Sometime this evening. I'm not sure there's an official time," Nic said, sifting through all the costumes, looking for what he needed. Zhen hadn't given them that kind of detail, but he wasn't sure it was necessary. Night was night and it wasn't like they had anywhere else to go. No prior obligations and all that. Nic planned on getting ready, letting her paint him up, then heading down when he was ready. If no one was there, he'd just come back later or something. "So, what floor are you on?"

“Well, I guess there’s not anywhere else everyone’s gonna be.” Blake stepped further into the closet, picking up a pair of striped pants and toying with them absentmindedly. There really was every kind of costume imaginable in this closet. “Second, last room in the back of the house. What exactly are you looking for? Maybe I can help you find it. Someone could be looking through here for days and still not find what they want…”

"Tonight? Probably not. But it'll be the first real gathering since I've been here. I'm interested to see how many actually show." Erich had tried to organize a get-together at one point, for new people to ask questions and understand what was going on around the house. That had been a flop; there was no other name for it. For some reason, he didn't think this would be quite as unsuccessful. Probably because Zhen was organizing it. "I'm up on the fourth. And I'm looking for camo pants, if you happen to come across them."

Blake shoved the pants back among the other costumes and started picking through the piles. “Ah, the guy I found was on the fourth floor.” Blake remarked as he pulled out several costumes, casting them aside when they weren’t what he was looking for. “I never got his name. I think he’s British or something- he had some sort of accent. Hard to tell what though, when he could barely talk.”

Nic's brow furrowed, able to narrow it down significantly from that comment. "Erich?" he asked. "Short hair, almost shaved, maybe early forties? Or Matt, probably mid thirties?" He knew Blake hadn't gotten a name, but it bothered Nic that it could be either of them, since they'd both been with him the night before. If they were deathly ill, then it was possible he could have caught it himself. Dan seemed to be fine though. "I guess I should go check on him later. But you got the nurse up to see him..."

“Uh... if I had to guess I’d say the first, but don’t quote me. He could have just looked older ‘cause he was sick.” A nagging voice popped up in the back of his head, telling him again that he should have been more helpful to the man. What if the nurse didn’t find him? What if she had to move him or something? Shaking off the troublesome voice, Blake turned to another pile of costumes to sift through. “Yeah, when I left the nurse was getting her things to head up to see him.” And its not my problem any more, he thought for the millionth time. It’s not.

It was probably Erich then. He'd definitely go check on him, since Erich had been one of the few to go looking for him when he'd been missing before. They didn't have a lot in common, and they weren't best friends or anything, but they'd silently agreed to watch out for each other. Nic found that to be essential living in this house. Those that took the 'each to his own' policy were more likely to find themselves up shit creek without a paddle later. "I hope Zoë can handle it," Nic said. He hadn't met her, so he certainly wasn't a judge. "Oh, here," Nic grinned, finally finding what he was looking for. "They even have several different sizes. This place will never cease to amaze me."

Blake stopped himself from snorting derisively. He doubted that that little girl was going to make it very long at all without an actual doctor around. But then, he had been wrong before. Blake shoved the last of the pile he was searching back into place and turned around to face Nicodemus. “Well, that didn’t take too long. They got your size in there?”

"Got a few I can work from," he said, pulling out the two that looked closest. If one didn't fit, then he'd just pin up the larger. Both in hand, he turned, ready to exit the closet, but waiting on Blake. "Were you gonna find something? Or skipping out on tonight?" He'd already made an assumption, but he wanted to make sure first.

“Uh, no. I think good on the party front,” Blake said, stepping out of the closet. “I’ll probably crash early tonight anyway.” A room full of people he didn’t know wearing strange costumes wasn’t exactly Blake’s idea of a good time anyway. And after the morning he’d had already he was most likely going to spend his night alone in his room, a cold bottle of liquor to keep him company.

"Suit yourself," Nic said, smiling as they left the ballroom. He'd been right on that one, and it was probably better for it. Blake didn't seem the type to get on with a large crowd around. "Well, I'm gonna head back up to my room, see if I can't fix one of these into something wearable. Then I have to hunt down the artist who plans on painting my face. Catch you later?" He was sure they'd run into each other again. It was a big house, but it wasn't that big.

“Good luck with that,” Blake said starting towards the kitchen. “Oh, I’m sure. We’re bound to run into each other at least once more over the next year.” Weather we want to or not, he left unsaid. “Later, Nicodemus.”

"Later," Nic said with a wave, and was off towards his room. Blake wasn't the nicest person he'd met thus far, but he was by no means the worst.