MS Paint Adventures (Arthur)

For once - quite possibly literally only for once - Feliciano was going to be on time. No. Early. He'd be early. It was a historical, momentous occasion. He'd gotten up early, showered, even laid his stuff out so that he could get dressed early and head out.

Only about halfway there had he remembered that bringing his portfolio for the critique might be a good idea. And that he'd left it on his bed. At home. Several blocks away. So he turned and sprinted, fast as he could. It was a panicked run back, and he spent several moments hopping over from foot to foot waiting for the lift (naturally, the idea of using the stairs to head up the two flights to his room hadn't crossed his frazzled mind). Once the ding! came he rushed forward- and straight into some other tenant's chest.

With a quiet "Oof-!" Feliciano fell backwards, landing on his rump. Well, at least it had calmed him down slightly? Bringing a hand back to rub where he'd fallen the Italian looked up at who he'd run into, starting to apologise and then stopping to give a quiet giggle. Neon green really didn't suit him. At least, not as he looked now. Maybe with different ligh- no. No, no lighting could make that shade look good on anyone's head.

"I- haha, oh gosh! I'm so sorry!" He managed to get out after a moment. "You look like a human plant!" He, of course, wasn't trying to be insulting. It was just that the suddenly green tufts of hair made the Englishman look like he'd been pulled up from someone's lawn. A very unnatural, brightly coloured lawn. Maybe made of that fake grass stuff.

Arthur, generally, minded his own bussiness. He would stand there, in a lift, and zone out slightly, as a true londoner always does on some kind of transport that he's not driving. Which is why, when the doors opened on the second floor, he did not expect something to go barelling in to his stomach, sending him back against the elevator wall. "What the bloody hell?!" He cried out, a little dazed from hitting his head.

He blinked and looked down at the projectile, a man who looked younger than he did, but he wasn't quite sure what his age was, since he was holding a massive art portfolio that he didn't think most students carried unless they went to art school. He had begun giggling, and Arthur scowled. "What?" He asked snippily. He'd expected at least some kind of apology, not laughter, how bloody rude!

Arthur went bright red. "I look like a- what- what do you mean?!" He spluttered out. He looked nothing like a plant - certianly, his hair was a bit spikey, but he was dark blond and not plant coloured at all. He reached up to his head, had something happened to it? It all felt normal... He grabbed his phone from his pocket and squawked in indignation. His hair was so green it was practically glowing, he looked like he was in a cartoon or something! "What did you do?!" He yelled. How the hell had this happened, was this some kind of joke? Well he wasn't laughing.

With a sharp 'eep!' of a noise Feliciano scurried back at the sudden anger, laughter dying in his throat. Oh. He'd thought it was a bit funny himself, but clearly the other wasn't pleased. He hadn't meant to upset him-! He shifted almost immediately from bemusement to nervous shame at his mistake.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" he put out, pulling himself back up to his feet as soon as he'd scooted far enough that he didn't think he had to fear being, say, punched, kicked, or otherwise punished for his wrong doing by the other. Not that he really expected as much but.... he looked angry, and kind of scary, so better safe then sorry, right?

"Uhm, I'll fix it back. I can do that! I think. Maybe. What did your hair look like originally? I think I can fix it, maybe. Probably. I really can! If, uhm, if I know what it's supposed to look like. I should be able to. In theory." One hand clutched to his portfolio, the other waving about in vague gestures to help along his statement, though presently that arm grew tired, and he had to switch. Already he was edging back to panic again, after all he had originally been in such a state, and a brief detour into laughing wasn't going to fix that entirely, especially not when faced with an upset Brit.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! I can't really help it, I wasn't expecting you to be in here and I was already late even though I'd planned to be early and it startled me is all and sometimes when I get startled things like this happen and I'm sorry and it won't happen again and I'll try really hard to fix it back but could it maybe wait because I've got to go to class right right now and if I'm late again I think my teacher will kill me and I'm sorry and I'll do my best to fix it but do you need it fixed now?" And here he paused for a gasp of air, switching the portfolio again as his hand's movements sped up rapidly to keep up with the pace of his ever-increasing speech pattern. "That's a stupid question, of course you want it fixed right now and probably need it too but I don't know if I can right now because I'm really frazzled and it might turn another colour and oh Dio I'm so sorry-!"

Arthur was really very angry. He couldn't go to class like this, he'd be laughed off! He looked like a caricature of an 80s rave scene teen. He'd never liked that sort of thing, and he certianly didn't want to look like he'd been off partying all weekend, it just wasn't him and he didn't want his fellow students to get the wrong impression. So many people would notice it and he'd be publically embarassed.

"My hair is blond!" He snapped, his face pink with anger and embarssment. "Sandy blond!" His hands balled in to fists, with no desire to punch him but still frustrated. "Now change it back!" It wasn't sure if this kid could even turn it back, and he was angry. He would have to go buy hair dye... what if his hair was like this forever? Oh god...

The boy started to ramble and he was bright red, trembling in fear. Arthur couldn't really understand what he was saying, he would admit, he was speaking too fast and speeding up all the time. He made out various words occasionally, like 'sorry' which came up a lot and something about being late. There was also a weird sensation, in the back of his mind, he was still angry, but he was also starting to feel a little... weird, a little anxious, like he was scaring himself. He attempted to ignore it.

The door opened just as he stepped forwards towards the man. "I don't care how late you'll be, I am not going out with fucking green hair!" He screeched. It was probably not going to help him, really, scaring the poor boy more, but he wasn't very good at controlling his anger. "What do I look like, a cartoon?!" He snarled. Maybe if he couldn't turn it blond, a different colour would be better, something more natural.

Cringing, Feliciano stepped back again as the taller male pushed into his personal space, edging backwards again. Oh, he was so, so angry! It was flat-out terrifying.

Terrifying enough, in fact, that when the other snarled out a particularly harsh ending Feliciano yelped, jumping a little and... sending the hair from green to pink, but leaving the neon part of it alone it would seem, for it was just as bright, if not more so. A flash of hot pink that practically swallowed the other's face with it's brightness. Oh. Oh. Feliciano had a feeling that he'd like this even less then he had the green, and his eyes went wide in horror at his unintended action.

"I-I'm sorry!" he squeaked, panic levels rising to an unholy level. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to please don't hit me-!"

Blonde he wanted it blonde, right? Frowning in concentration he tried, only to give the other a shock of garish orange straight through the middle. No no no! That wasn't what he wanted.

"I. Ahm. Hold... hold still - please - and please stop shouting, it's making it really hard to concentrate!" Feliciano flailed out the words, hands waving wildly as he did so, portfolio down now, forgotten in his panic. Biting his lip he tried again. Blond. Blonde. A flash of yellow streaked across through both orange and pink. Oh. Lord. He was clashing so bad Feliciano could barely bare to look at it, and dread shot through him.

"o-oh!" He squeaked out, taking another step back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - that's - not what you wanted either - please calm down I can't focus and you're really, really scaring me!"

The boy was trembling and nearly crying, and for some reason, Arthur felt a little like crying as well. He didn't feel anything as the boy nibbled his lip and tried to concentrate, mumbling about blonde hair. Then the boy just got more and more stressed, apologising, and Arthur had a very bad feeling it hadn't gone right. He checked his hair again. "What did you do?!" He screeched, it was worse than before. "I look like some fucking modern art!" He was certianly not rational any more. He looked like a kid had come at him with a marker, and he was really angry.

"Calm down, calm down?!" He yelled, "I've got tutti-frutti hair!" He wanted this fixed, and he wanted it fixed now. "Come here and fix it properly!"

Were he more in control of his emotional state and feeling less like he was about to be murdered on the landing by a crazy Englishman over a bad hair day Feliciano might have pointed out that he looked nothing like modern art. He might even have gone into an explanation of the theory behind the modernist movement and why this man didn't fit into that in any way, shape, or form.

As it was, he only managed a wail of, "I c-c-can't!" before bursting into tears with a loud and heavy handed sob. Heavy handed in every meaning of the word, of course, given the way he spoke with his hands. "I don't know how to control it well and you're scaring me and stressing me out and if you keep - hic - doing that I'll never be able to put it back to normal because it's hard enough as it is!" the words were added along with a bright red spot over the left side of his head, which just made the Italian cry harder, tears covering the majority of his next few words.

"-an't just do it because you say so because yelling at me is really scary so I might turn it a hundred other colours if you don't st-stop it!"

Arthur felt really quite odd. He was still angry, but there was also a sort of forlorness, like he was scared and sad. Of what, he wasn't really sure, but it was really affecting him. He'd gone pink and was on the brink of tears, oh god why was everything so scary! And he'd never get his hair the right colour, everyone would laugh at him and he'd be such a joke! He'd never get any friends or a lover or anything. But he couldn't cry, crying in public was embarassing!

But in a moment, he had burst in to tears with the other man, both crying in the middle of a lift. This was not the sort of thing that a proper young man did, and he was going to be late for his class, so he cried even harder. "I j-just want normal hair!" He sobbed, "I don't want to be more of a- of a fr-freeeak!" He cried, wiping his eyes. He could feel pressure building around him, as he cried more, became even more tangible, more strong, until he hear something make a clanging sound and water started to creep towards them from a pipe somewhere. Arthur was only vaguely aware that he had called the water towards him from the pipes, he was too emotional to piece it together.

"A freak?" Would he be a freak for having a different hair colour? Did that mean Feli was a freak because he could change that? Oh! He didn't want to be a freak either! And now the other was crying too and that just made Feliciano sadder, so his sobbing got louder, the worry and upset building him him like waves crashing not onto the sand but against a damn ready to break- before splintering out into a sharp scream as a clanging filled his ears.

Oh. God. Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod! The lift must have broken. They were going to die. Die. He was going to die, in a broken lift, with a very angry, very upset, crying Brit whose name he didn't even know and he hadn't even really kissed a girl before and he was too young to diiiiiiiieeeeeeee-!

...which would be about the point where he noticed the water sloshing against his shoes. What? How did that even- Was it even possible to drown in an elevator? In his panicked state, he was certainly in a position to believe as much, though the initial shock and confusion at least stilled the emotion for a few seconds - a breathing period or rest, if you will. He had the strangest moment of clarity where all he could think of was that his portfolio would be damaged before he allowed the panic to flood (no pun intended) back in with full force.

"I- I- I'm sorry! I want you to have normal hair too! I didn't mean to change it and I'm sorry and you don't deserve to die or drown or be crushed by a horrible falling lift accident I bet even if you are scary and shout a lot! I'm sorry!"

(panic. So much panic. So much crying. Arthur, just have to say that I wanted to hug you so damn bad because of the being a joke and a forever alone thing...)

Arthur sniffled, wiping his eyes and nose, but the tears kept coming and he couldn't control them. It was like he wasn't even in control of his own emotions. He just felt so sad and lonely and scared and was bawling away like a small child. There was snot everywhere and water up to their knees now, and the lift was creaking, water running down in to it. He sniiffled.

"I-I don't want to be a-all colourful! Why can't I just be no-normal!" He bawled, and he really needed a hug right now. He sniffled, "What do you mean, d-die?" He asked, managing to get somewhat coherent for a few moments. He realised there was water all around them and leaking down the small gap between the lift and the floor. But he was too emotional to control his powers, and he kept drawing the water towards them.

"I'm sorry!" he sniffled.

"W-well there's so much water and I just- I didn't know it w-wuh-was possible to drown in an Elevator before-!" He blubbered out, pushing to wade through the water, because clinging through his last moments seemed like a good plan. After all, if he had to die, he'd rather do it holding close to someone, even if the person had been scaring the living shit out of him before.

And so. Yes. Yes, hugging was required, so Feliciano pushed himself to slog through the rest of the water that he might cling to the Brit.

"Wh-what are you sorry for? This was my fault! I should b-b-be the sorry one-! I'm sorry-!"

Suddenly he was being hugged. Usually, Arthur didn't like hugs but right now he really wanted a hug. He clinged to the other man, chest still shaking with the hysteric sobs. The water was pressing against him, climbing up his skin and he couldn't stop it. He was getting soaked and, as a consequence, so was the other guy.

"B-but it's my fault that there's water everywhere!" He sobbed.

"Wh-what?" Feliciano blinked up at the other. This was his fault? He'd been the one to bring the water and start to elevator-drown them? Was that... was that what happened to him when Feliciano himself was developing the ability to make colours, when the storm hit and lightning struck the building, fusing this new kind of life into their bones?

...then maybe he could stop it?

"Th-then make it go away! Please!" He begged, fingers fisting into the other's shirt as he continued to cling to him. "Please! I-if you brought it can't you make it go away? If... if you calm down or something can't you- can't you tell it to go somewhere else? Because I really, really, really don't want it to keep coming here!"

Arthur felt like he wasn't in control of his emotions any more. He hadn't felt like he was in control of his emotions for a good few minutes, ever since the other one had started crying. He couldn't really sort this out in his mind though, he couldn't put the thoughts together. He wasn't in control of anything. He sobbed, "I don't know how to stop it!" he said. He could feel the water climbing up his body, up his legs, he didn't know how to push it away, he barely knew how he was drawing it forward! His sudden newfound terror of the water didn't help at all.

"I don't - know if I - can calm down." He sobbed, panting heavily."

"M-maybe try to push it away?" Feliciano suggested, voice cracking on the first 'a' of away as his nervousness sent his voice higher and higher until it peaked and broke. "Like- like think really hard that you want it to leave? Th-that's what I do when I want to change a colour, maybe it'll work?"

Ohh, it had to work! Otherwise they'd drown in an elevator, and that was a really serious problem! He was far too young to die, too inexperienced, there was so much he hadn't done! And he didn't want to die without saying goodbye to his brother and grandpa... or at all! Not dying at all sounded like a really, really good option right now. Oh no oh no oh no the other had to fix it!

"I- I believe in you! Really I do! I'm really scared right now but I believe in you, you can fix it! Because... because if you did it then you can fix it, si?" Yeah! That sounded right. When he accidentally changed a colour he could always change it back with enough effort. If he could do that to reverse his effects then the stranger could definitely fix this!

(Whoa I'm so sorry I was so late. Some stuff has been going down on the home front...)

“I-I can try.” But he still felt really scared, coming from somewhere very strange, he didn’t know exactly where. He even felt slightly detached from it. And he was suddenly in the very strange mixture of comforted by the water and also slightly afraid of it. He’d never been afraid of water, not before and certainly not now, when he couldn’t even drown. He clung to Feliciano.

He sniffled, “B-but you couldn’t do it.” He said, “You couldn’t change my hair back.” He reminded him, still unsettled. “I-if I make the water go away, you can change my hair back, right?” He asked, sniffling. That damned hair... it had started this whole fiasco.

He tried to concentrate on the water around him, until he could feel it pulsing, moving, like a real organism. He took a deep breath and felt it draw in as if it was breathing as well. He did this several times, until they were all completely in synch. He didn’t feel the fear any more, he barely even registered Feliciano’s presence. Nothing mattered any more, just the swirling around him. He started to push it away, to edge it away from the lift. It flowed and crashed like a tide, drawn away from the lift.

"S-si, I think I can," Feliciano agreed, still clinging to the other and holding very, very still as he felt the water shift around them. For a moment he thought it was pulling in closer to them and prepared to hold his breath but... oh! It was edging away! As the water swept down lower and lower he felt his spirits begin to rise. He wasn't going to drown!

"You did it! You really, really did it! Now we won't drown we'll only be soggy~" he cheered - yes, he literally cheered, he was just that sort of over-the-top person - and threw his arms around the other once more, this time in a hug rather then a death-cling. "You saved us! And you controlled your power, I bet that's a really good thing to learn how to do, si? Thank you for not drowning me!"

Arthur came crashing back to reality, feeling a little bit dazed as he did so. He remembered the cold and the drip of water from his clothes, which was by no means pleasant, and he suddenly lost all ability to control the water (apparently only heightened emotional states or deep concentration could affect his... what was this called? Maybe... aquakinesis?). However, he felt inexplicably relieved and happy, so much that he grinned, his own sense of acheivement heightened greatly, and laughed, hugging the other man.

He wiped his eyes, giving him a happy look. "Okay... I managed to make the water go away. C-can you change my hair back?" He asked, sniffling slightly from the aftermath of their emotional break.

Feliciano looked over the damaged hair. Before he had felt utterly swamped, as if he had no chance of fixing it - he was just too scared - but now it didn't seem nearly so bad, and he nodded decidedly.

"Mm-hmm! I'm sure I can!" he announced, happily within the hug. "You just have to promise to be a little patient and let me concentrate, okay? Because if I get distracted and scared I'll end up and doing it wrong. But I think I can fix it if you give me a little bit of time okay?"

Arthur nodded and stood there still, not sure what to do. He still wasn’t feeling quite himself, like there was some other force acting on his feelings. He took deep breaths to try and calm himself. He was dripping wet and he probably need to go back to his flat so he could change and get dried up – he couldn’t go out like this. Oh, and he going to be late for school, wasn’t he? He tried not to groan and upset the other person for fear he never get his hair back to normal.

(( D8 Wait, what about Feli's art work? ))

(It's completely ruined, I'm sure. And he'll be devastated about it later but right now he's happy to be alive so he hasn't really given it any thought. Portfolios are made to withstand rain and the like but that amount of water, everything would have gotten pretty soaked which means very little will be salvageable. So good thing Feli isn't the sort to get angry when his work is destroyed. Just really upset and mildly panicky.)

"Do we have to do it right here? Or could we maybe get out of the death elevator first?" Feliciano asked, already trying to remember the exact shade of the Englishman's hair. It was a yellowish sort of thing, that much he could remember, but somewhat darker then cornsilk, not quite dirty blonde either... Frowning and chewing on his lip he focused on his nails, colouring each one a different shade and trying to find the right one. When he had a full hand he held it up to the other.

"And, uhm... do any of these work? Because I want to get the colour right before I try and put it in your hair, that way I won't mess up again and make you even more rainbow, si?"

"If you want to." They had been open on the same floor for quite a while, they could have gotten out any time that they had wanted to but... somehow it had not crossed their minds to do so. He found himself blinking rapidly, a little surprised to see the door open and he let go of Feliciano to awkwardly shuffle out, trying not to upset him anymore.

He stared at the nails, usure. It wasn't every day that he really looked at his hair. But if he was honest, he didn't care if it was perfect, just as long as it looked kind of similar. "I think that is the closest." He pointed to one finger, "But I'm not sure. Just change it that colour for now, and maybe later we can use a photo to get it right, not that we need to be very pedantic, I don't mind. As long as it's not pink, and it looks a bit like my hair colour. He wasn't that fussy, or sensitive to colour.