say it like you mean it;

[Peyton Howard.]

Peyton had wanted to walk the Seattle streets, because anything big city sort of, vaguely reminded her of Orange County. Except of course, Seattle's streets were a little bit more dark and kind 1993, while her home was something near the boulevard kind of class. It made no difference though, whether she really made sense or not, because at the root of it, Peyton just hadn't wanted to be anywhere near or in a place named Hoboken. Her nose scrunched just at the thought, but beggars really couldn't be choosers, not especially during a time like this.

A part of her felt bad, because her very best friend was currently going through the absolute worst time of her life, and Peyton genuinely wished she could be more useful, simply more. But Peyton wasn't any good at consoling and Elliot wasn't after consolation, and there was nothing she could have done to ease her friend's pain; everything she did know she couldn't very well offer, because she wouldn't lower herself like that, she wouldn't let herself lower Elliot like that. The bigger part of her that felt worse was because while she wished she could have done something, she still allowed herself to feel relieved at the current break. She wanted this small time for herself.

In all her time dealing, since she was eleven, Peyton Howard honestly could not remember ever dedicating so much of herself to sobriety and deep thoughts. She was over a year older than her ideal age; that was the only thing that came along with being seventeen, instead of sixteen. Of course, that wasn't exactly true. While not becoming any wiser, Peyton believed without a doubt that something had happened. Some chemical reaction inside that triggered the sudden creation of a conscience. It was mainly because of this that she'd given up Ritalin for the rest of the month, and her beloved weird, green flora. At seventeen, her smiles were more poignant and the stars she wore in her eyes seemed fewer after each count. It wasn't a complex because it wasn't like she wanted to stay young forever, but she missed the days of careless laughter, the dream and promises of always.

They were all growing up so fast, growing and leaving and she didn't have a single handle on any of it. Because Peyton was just that silly, airy friend of Elliot's and Draco's, and she always supplied them with their choice of opiate fun; that was all she was ever good for. It never occurred to anyone, and rarely to Peyton herself, that she was also a girl. She scowled at her reflection, from where she'd stood for the past five minutes, staring unblinking at the window of a barber. She stepped closer to the glass, fingers slowly reaching out to press against the reflection's wreath of gray flowers on her head.

"You suck," she whispered, after a moment of silent contemplation, her scowl fading and something closer to disappointment on her face.

[Garion DeLuse]

"That's not a very nice thing to say." A ten your old bod stood near Peyton, a thick book clutched tightly in his small fist. The boy was definitely small for his age, yet his eyes sparkled with intelligence.

Garion didn't know what had made him speak to the woman. She just seemed so... sad. Garion supposed he wanted to talk to her before she started crying, and making a mess. No one was very intelligent when they were crying, it seemed to Garion.

Or maybe it was because Garion had had no human interaction since coming back to the school. He didn't talk to anybody, he avoided the gaze of Tutors. Garion would like to pretend it was his uncontrollable powers, but he knew that was a lie. He had gained enough control that things stopped floating in the air for no apparent reason, but anything that he picked up with his mind was crushed if he wasn't careful.

Garion leveled a calculating look at Peyton. "You're going to smudge the window." He said matter-of-factually.

The real reason he avoided people was because he didn't know who to trust anymore. He didn't have anyone to talk to, and so he retreated further and further into his shell. He was never an outgoing person to begin with, but this was getting serious. Garion most definitely did not want to become a hermit.

[Peyton Howard.]

Peyton really was, for the most part, air headed. When she wasn't realizing that she was more than that, she was just an above average goofball. Upon pausing and staring at the reflection of the boy who was talking to her, it came to her suddenly that he kind of resembled her younger brother, Bradley Badass, when he wasn't using Vaseline to spike his hair Super Saiyan style, or setting things on fire, or planting bear traps for Neotron. So maybe the boy didn't really look like her brother, but he was still a boy, blond at that, and he reminded her greatly of her family down south. Instead of inspiring warm fuzzies, he only made her expression more despondent.

"Doesn't mean I don't mean it," she replied, a mumble thought not really, more a suggestion that she was some punk kid with rich parents, used to good food and better music, but still capable of earning enough street cred. Peyton wasn't as badass right then as she would have liked to be.

She turned, her finger dragging along the window until her arm dropped and she leaned against the pane to consider him.
"So," like she knew exactly what she was going to say, and as if she would have normally avoided it, the better to be original and different, but she could care less currently; "where are your parents? Don't you know social services are everywhere."

[Garion DeLuse]

Garion turned to Peyton's reflection to get a better glimpse of her face. It was rather pretty, if a little unkempt. The makeup was slightly smudged, Garion noticed, but not in a really bad way, if that makes sense. Garion walked up to the lady.

"My parents? Hell if I know. I think they're somewhere in Switzerland right now. Zurich, maybe." Garion shook his head. His father had gotten a huge promotion at his work while he was gone, followed by another large promotion. Oh yes, all things had gone well for his lovely parents after Garion started at the Academy, Garion thought bitterly.

"Oh I'm sure you didn't mean it. After all, if you really sucked so much that you have to admit it to yourself, you wouldn't be brave/smart/logical enough to admit it to yourself. So the question is not why you suck, or why you think you suck." Garion tried to aim a serious look at Peyton, but like every other time he tried to look serious, he just ended up sickeningly adorable.

[Peyton Howard.]

"God, you're lucky you're cute kid," she told him, her tone nothing like when girls usually fawned over young children, "and that I think you're an abandoned orphan, that smart mouth of yours isn't too fly."

She pushed away from the glass and took a step toward him, actually considering holding out her hand for one serious moment before doing away with the idea.

"So, what're you, like five? Do you have a nursery or something?" she asked him, her face in the same state of reluctant acknowledgment; she did suck, and she would know best, even if she didn't very much like the fact of the matter. Then, Peyton broke out into a small, apologetic smile.
"I'm just kidding. I don't want you walking around by yourself though, do you have a place to go?"

The girl moved a little closer, avoiding the passersby on the sidewalk, her expression lighter, if a little forced, as she tried to appear friendly and not crazy; if she had to be honest, she was feeling a little wigged out by the prospect of the kid being alone. It must've been rough, she thought.
"I'm Peyton, and I'm not going to kill you, or eat you, you know, so if you need me to take you home, I don't mind."

[Garion DeLuse]

Garion kicked at an offending rock, his tone decidedly neutral. He debated for a minute about telling her that he wasn't abandoned or an orphan, but he wanted to see where this... interesting assumption was going.

"Five? What are you, blind? I'm clearly 10." Garion was small for his age; it was quite a touchy subject. "Besides, how do I have a smart mouth? I just used logic to deduce you were brave and smart. Sounds like a complement to me.

Peyton started moving towards him, with a smile that was slightly creepy. Garion moved back at around the same pace. This looked a bit odd, as two of his steps had to be taken to match one of hers. Garion was quite a bit more wary of strangers ever since the incident. The girl seemed like she was only in her late teens, but you never really know.

"Oddly enough, people who say they won't kill or eat you usually do." Garion didn't want to be taken advantage of, but he still wanted to talk to "Peyton". Well, not Peyton specifically, but Garion was lonely beyond belief.

[Peyton Howard.]

"I didn't ask to be complimented," she told him, that attempt for a friendly smile ruined by the acerbic undertones she exuded. Peyton dealt with addicts and thugs, cheating parents and ego maniacs for brothers; her friends were the best and the worst, eccentric over-achievers scheming for the bare-minimum, she was used to lying to teachers and fellow students, to police officers and couriers. Children were outside of her bedside manner, or this kind of kid anyway. She managed well with little girls trying to play dress-up, boys and their toy guns, teenagers with attitude problems; this 10 year old was different, or she was just in a bad mood. Probably a mix of both.

"And you're clearly somewhere around 3 foot, sorry," although she didn't sound nearly as apologetic as she should have; she was right, as much as he wanted to think that he was right in his deductions, she knew this kid was all book-smart without a filter on the brain/mouth connection.

The girl stopped her approach once she noticed how he kept on backing away. She didn't bother hiding her eye roll; seriously, how did she even come across as intimidating. Even on one of her bad days, Peyton still came across as a young girl playing with make-up and experimenting with clothes.

"Ew," was her response, complete with a face pull; cannibalism wasn't something she was a big fan of.
"Like I'd even want to eat you." But he couldn't know her, just like she didn't know him. Rather than try to appeal to him, she stuck a hip out and placed a hand on it in a very good imitation of someone who was a little exasperated.

"Well do you want me to call the cops or someone, maybe they can take you home," she suggested. Despite the distrust being sent her way, she still didn't want the boy to be by himself.

[Garion DeLuse]

"And I didn't ask for the insult. I guess we're even." This girl was clearly suffering from horrible self esteem. It was kind of annoying really. After all, what could her problems be anyway? Prince Charming didn't call you back? Poor baby. Garion had seen more disturbing things in the last few months than Princess over here had seen in all whatever many years of her life.

"I'm pretty sure I'll be fine, but thanks." Garion said this meaner than intended. He looked apologetically, then said "Sorry. I've been having a bad day. So what problems of yours are so big that you choose to ignore the impeccable logic from the 10 year old you found on the street." Surely Garion had grown a few inches? He was annoyed with constantly being the little squirt.

Garion checked his height in the reflection of a store window. He was still the same height, and the his face still screamed 'hug me'.

Pathetic.

[Peyton Howard.]

It was hard to ignore it and eventually Peyton broke out into a reluctant smile; the kid was sassy and she couldn't help but find that, well, adorable.

"If you're sure," she said to him, not sounding so sure herself, but the boy seemed adamant that he would be fine, by himself, in a place where he didn't know anyone, or so she was assuming anyway. If he didn't want any kind of adult to look after him, then she was going to stop trying to push one on to him, after all, being responsible was the last thing Peyton would claim to be.

"I'm sorry too," she told him, smiling readily and sounding like she meant it this time; she was usually the kind of girl that gave out smiles, hugs and apologies for free, and coming to an understanding with boy was helping her into a better mood. She thought about his question for a good moment before she answered, and found that her earlier reason for being so despondent still stood, and thankfully, it didn't sound stupid the more she thought about it.

"Well, my best friend has cut almost everyone out of her life, hasn't come out of her room for about a month and is fast becoming an alcoholic. Graduation is soon and I have no idea what's going to happen. I think I'm more likely to go to jail then college and, well, I think I'm scared."
She wasn't unloading, nope, she definitely wasn't, but it was new and bold and kind of nice to be honest, especially to someone she didn't know; that way, she was less likely to leave anything out. Peyton smiled again, crossing her arms and leaning against the window, blatantly ignoring the barber inside who as glaring at the eye-sores in front of his shop.

"Do you wanna help me out now?"

[Garion DeLuse]

So, Peyton's problems were a smidgen more serious than Garion had anticipated. But surely she was exaggerating? With teens it was always the end of the world... scratch that, with people it was always the end of the world. Garion pondered that before coming back to the problem at hand.

Assuming that Peyton's problems were real, they were far too sensitive for Garion's usual cynic observations. He bit back the urge to point out that if her best friend hadn't come out of her room for a month, she wouldn't be able to buy alcohol. Instead he tried to give Peyton serious words of wisdom, only half aware that ten-year-old kids weren't revered for their advice.

"Why would she do that? Cut everyone out of her life, I mean. There's no re-" Garion stopped, the naked truth finally dangling in front of his eyes. He had done the exact same thing, minus the alcohol. He stood with his mouth open for a few seconds, eyes wide. Then he shut his mouth and continued.

"Has she suffered anything... traumatic lately? I... someone I know did the same thing right after witnessing something horrible."

Garion leaned in closer to the girl, completely forgetting his wariness around strangers. He wanted to know as much about this girl who was mirroring his actions. He had been in that situation before and knew how horrible the girl must be feeling.

[Peyton Howard.]

Not that Garion wasn't cute as a button already, but when he forgot to keep up the suspicion and distance, he came across as a kid, who was, well, just that. He wasn't a smart ass, he wasn't someone trying to punch above their weight, or height; he was just a kid, and Peyton found it hard to be anything other than adoring around him. Of course, she had to stamp down the instant 'omg' at his expression, and the hand clasping had to be turned into tugging restlessly at the sides of her dress.

"Her dad died," she answered, too succinct for such a delicate reveal, but finesse wasn't one of her finer points. There was a moment of pause and the melancholy seemed to reach her again but she fidgeted, almost as if to keep away from it.

"I guess I'm just stressed," she added after, shrugging, almost looking uncomfortable if it weren't for the perpetual hint of vacuity about her.

[Garion DeLuse]

"Oh."

Garion's eyes drifted to the sidewalk floor. Her dad died.

Garion realized somewhat uncomfortably that this girl's problems were in many ways more serious than his own. The death of a loved one was far more serious than the death of some killer Garion had barely known. How do you tell someone 'people die' when the death was of someone that held and created your memories? Garion's wasn't particularly attached to his father, but his death would still affect him quite a bit. Garion assumed that this girl loved her father very much.

Garion turned to Peyton, his eyes no longer narrowed. He attempted to continue with his annoying smartass shell, but he was slipping. His tiny hand tentatively reached out and touched Peyton's arm. He didn't know what to say to her to make her less stressed, so he started with the most basic thing he knew.

"I'm Garion."

[Peyton Howard.]

Peyton figured that if she spontaneously hugged him, or alternatively, squished him to death, then she couldn't be responsible for her actions. He was so cute! She had actually never met another individual as adorable as he was, sans babies and puppies, and her kitten; but the point was, this little boy was successfully cheering her up, or something very much like it.

A smile, a real one, stole her expression before she bit her lip, trying to stop herself from doing something ridiculous, like ruffling his hair or squeezing his cheeks. She didn't think he'd appreciate it, even if she wasn't being obnoxious; she just couldn't help it.
"Hi Garion," she greeted, genu-ine because Peyton Howard was never anything less. She removed herself from the barber's window, having a feeling that she could finally move on.

"Are you heading anywhere man?" she asked, not sounding hopeful, or thinking of his safety; he was a little bit more than interesting, and Peyton was guilty of wanting to spend some more time with him, even if she didn't look like she wanted to.

[Garion DeLuse]

Garion saw the new, full smile and felt a sense of fulfillment. At least he was doing something, caring about someone other than himself. He smiled back up at Peyton, only slightly aware of the bizarre turn the conversation was taking. He pushed that thought out of his head. If he was lucky enough, he could come out of here with twice as many friends as he had before meeting Peyton.

"Where would I go? A business meeting? Naw, I'm free all afternoon." That wasn't exactly true. Garion had to catch the bus back to the Academy, but he was sure there were a few late busses


"Do... do you have anywhere to be? Because, I mean..... I could go for a good walk..." Garion wasn't exactly sure how to word this without sounding odd. He didn't want to bother Peyton, and he didn't want to sound like he had some creepy crush on Peyton. He tried to play it off as a casual "whatever" kind of statement.

[Peyton Howard.]

Peyton decided that he was definitely a wise ass; his quick wit was too much like 90's comedy sitcoms and stand ups to be anything else. Her mood shades better, she found that he was kind of funny, in a strange man-child kind of way.

"I gotta go back to school," she told him, not looking like she was in any rush, "but I have to find an information booth or something before that; I don't know anything about public transport." Except that the percentage of knife jackings on buses were higher than that of knife jackings inside homes.

"Hey, did you know that 2 out of 5 people get robbed on public transit every 3 minutes?" she asked Garion, trying not to smile unless she wanted to look like a maniac; which she totally wasn't.
"I'm kidding. I just made that up. So, do you need me to walk you home or to a friends? I don't mind "