yes. i'm stalking you.

who: caleb and nic
where: Lower Harbor Park
when: laaate

Caleb was out walking. That tended to happen when he had a lot on his mind, and it was no different tonight. It just happened to be colder than he wanted it to be. Far colder. Stupid fucking north. Whatever. He had his mp3 player going, though only had one bud in his ear. The other dangled over his shoulder. Paranoid dictated that he didn't leave himself totally deaf to his surroundings, so he didn't get jumped. The last thing he needed was for something stupid and demonic or otherwise to opt to try and take a piece of him. He walked down the steps of the arch towards the water, not heading into the park proper yet, and instead he walked right along the road that lined the water. Hopping up onto the little ledge, he walked that, eyes down on the water as he did so.

Nic knew she wasn't the only writer in town, of course. She'd see odd patches of graffiti here and there on her way to school or when she was riding her bike around town, and they honestly weren't all that impressive. So it went, then, that in her year in Marquette? She'd added a few of her own. She would slip out at night once every few weeks, tag somewhere unassuming, and head home. It was her secret, her little outburst of art that neither her mother or her art teacher knew about.

At present, she was on the grass of the harbor, mostly concealed by light shrubs as she vigorously shook a can of spraypaint and let it fly along the side of a green brick supply shack. The spot kept her out of sight of the road as she waved an arc of light blue paint for an outline, then slid down her ventilator mask. Nic was already somewhat wasted, after all; half a joint from some thug had been smoked, and as she turned for her backpack in the bushes, she slipped free a 40 oz. bottle and unscrewed the cap, swigging a mouthful down. Last thing I need is paint fumes mixing in, she thought with a smirk as she capped the bottle again.

The sound was what attracted his attention. He walked closer, sort of wondering what it was he was hearing. Then he got in closer and spotted someone. As he watched the profile well, getting closer, he thought he recognized her. Then he realized he did. "What's a nice girl like you doing out at night like this?" he asked, smirking at her.

Initially, Nic figured she was caught. She was a little too high to place the voice immediately, and Nic spun around in clumsy reflex, brandishing her spraycan at the voice. "...Caleb?" she said after a moment of recognition, lowering the can and pushing back a stray braid with her other hand. "Fucking christ! Give me a heart attack and a side of grey hair, why don't you?" she asked rhetorically, grabbing her forty for another drink. "You're not stalking me or something, are you? Because there has got to be a better candidate in this town."

Caleb eyed the can with an arched brow. "That can loaded?" he asked. "And yes, I'm stalking you. I know I forgot to say in our brief time together, but I am an accomplished stalker. So, you'll just have to get used to it. But hey, you'll be easier to spot once that grey hair thing kicks in. It'll be cute, though. You'll stand out in a crowd, more than you already do, and it'll be original." he told her, deadpan. "And naw, everyone else in town wouldn't be nearly as fun to stalk. They have so much less creativity points for impromptu weaponry."

"They haven't seen 'The Warriors', I guess," Nic conceded with a crooked grin, "And hell yes it's loaded. What, you think I'm out here to find stillness with nature or something?" It took a second to work past the twin buzzes that were ever-so-slightly haunting Nic's senses, but eventually her nose wrinkled as she glared daggers at Caleb. "Enough of the personalized comedic shit," she told him mock-threateningly " 'Stead tell me why you're down here this late? I at least have a reason," Nic explained, waving a hand grandly at the strokes of blue outline she'd laid down thusfar.

"Am I required to explain myself to you?" Caleb asked, smirking. "I'm out walking. I like walking, it's something to do." Plus, it gave him time to think, which never really did much for him, but if he was going to be spinning his wheels on shit, he might as well be doing something besides laying around the house. He didn't ever get into fights doing that, and one never knew when they'd find a stray demon or whatever. ...or stray girls with spraypaint who had no fear of using it.

"Interrupting my work, damn right you're required," Nic joked, glowering for a moment before turning around and raising her spraypaint again. The can hissed softly as she dragged a downward curve, closing off her first pass into an oval. "But I like walking too," she went on, turning back around and stuffing her spraycan back into her bag, then digging out another. "My mom crashes out in front of the TV most nights, so it's never too tough for me to ditch for a while. Blast some music, ride my board, do a little of this..." She trailed off, frowning at the can and shooting Caleb a curious look. "Silver or red?"

Caleb eyed what she was up to with a critical eye. "Red." he opted for. He also was terribly amused with watching her do that, so he continued, actually sitting down to watch. "You do this often then?" he asked. "Artistic flair running through your veins or something?" Said the guy who drew quite a lot of the time.

"Not a drop of it," Nic downplayed in a distracted tone, shaking up the can of red paint she'd pulled and popping the cap off. "But this town is boring. When it's not being ransacked by updated visigoths, that is. So I decorate every now and then." She smirked at Caleb as she turned back, letting the grin hang over one shoulder for a second before spraying a swath of red up the center of the oval.

Caleb thought to himself that he kind of liked that image of her, looking over her shoulder. That he'd be able to do a pretty decent, stylized version of it if he wanted to. Maybe he would. Hm. "Well, you've got my sanction." he told her. "Might as well do something at least vaguely entertaining and delinquent." Really, he supposed there wasn't much else to do around here that wasn't trauma-induced. So artistic expression of a mildly illegal variety...that seemed like a valid way to spend time to him.

Nic chuckled and nodded her agreement, fleshing out the initial red with arcs along the base for a quiet moment before she turned for her pack again. "Good to know I have backers, maybe some day I can put on a show. It'd have to be a tour around town, though." She came up with a new can, shoving a hand into her hoodie and producing a few paint pens to go along with it. "Hell, I might even call you next time I go out. Company's better than headphones, headphones can't tell me if a cop car's rolling by."

"I'd be game." Caleb told her, thinking that would be fun, and at the very least interesting. And again with the whole bit about it being non-pressure. He didn't have any responsibilities towards Nic, he just kind of liked hanging out with her. Or, he did so far. He knew he had a question or so to ask her, but didn't yet, figuring he'd bring up the Gabe bullshit in a bit. Somehow he thought she could be convinced to help keep an eye on the guy, even if she didn't know quite why she was being asked. "i don't sleep a lot, so...I'll be cool for it, if you want the company." He grabbed a stick from the ground, and started to draw in the dirt next to him absently, because he didn't have anything with him to draw on properly. Mostly his eyes were up on her, though, watching.

"I normally head out Tuesdays," Nic told him, filling in the blank spots with black paint and smiling. Red was a good choice, vivid against the black but lush within the blue outline. "So if you see me asleep in a class on Wednesdays? Now you know why." She swore she could feel his scrutiny, his eyes on her back, but Nic shrugged the feeling off. Sure, Caleb had stared before, but there was nothing fascinating about her back, though she personally loved the patch-covered sweatshirt she had on. She glanced back at the sound of the stick in the dirt though, smiling a little. "Amazingly, I think I'd be okay with the company. The only candidates I'd have for this would either get me caught or think they had a chance to make out or some shit."

That got a little laugh out of him. "And this is serious business, I take it, therefore no make out sessions permitted?" Caleb asked, finding that amusing. Though for his own part, generally speaking when he was out doing anything, that sort of thing was distant in his mind. That and currently he had enough women troubles, he didn't need to go adding any more to that. "I can be a gentleman when I want to be, and I definitely won't get you caught."

"Good, if you do I'll tell the cops you have heroin hidden in your ass," Nic threatened, laughing throatily and waving a paint pen back at Caleb. She uncapped another, running fine lines of silver through the red and gradually starting the details of what appeared to be wings. Demonic or angelic, it was too soon to say.

He was watching what she was putting up there, it very interesting to him. Both the process, and trying to figure out what she was getting at. "I'll keep that in mind, then." he said drily. "So do you start out with something in mind, then do that, or do you just start working on something and let it go from there?" he asked, curious. Sometimes he had a clear idea of what he was doing, other times he looked down at his drawings and had to wonder how he'd gotten where he had.

"Tonight's pretty random," Nic confessed, swapping around pens quickly to dot black along the wings and swipe slivers of dark in proportion with an assumed eye-level. "But usually I just do a handle tag, so there's not a lot to plan. Figure out a new way to spray 'Arachne' and call it a night," she explained, aiming a sheepish smile at the wall as she realized how stupid that was for a handle. "It looks cool," Nic added quickly, stifling both a groan and the urge to bounce her head against the fresh paint.

"Where'd you get the name?" he asked. he also kept trying to figure out if what she was painting was an angel or something. Or maybe a demon. He wasn't sure. Which was neat, considering, but either way, it was probably ironic, considering her company. He knew all about drawing angels. He also drew demons all the time, though they were his own version of things--nothing that existed in reality anywhere. No, the demons he'd actually seen he wanted nothing more than to shred. Or leave them bleeding, dying, whatever. So long as there was blood and pain involved in regards to them he was all for it. ...perhaps he still had issues over that whole thing. yeah just maybe.

"Greek mythology," she answered easily, "When I moved to Green Bay I didn't know anyone, so the first few weeks I just hid in the library, did some reading. She's the mother of spiders, in the myths." Familiar ground was easier, even if it was dangerously close to memories of her first days of life that she could remember. "Then I hit a football player with a dictionary and the skater kids noticed, and here I am!" She waved a hand with the words as if unveiling something, smirking to herself and swapping pens again, running silver through the mass of red that made up a face, almost giving it an ancient look.

"Okay well that explains why I was thinking about spiders when you said that." Caleb said. "I think it's cool. And mythology is always interesting." he said. "I come from somewhere where old ideas and mythology sort of play in a lot, depending on what circles you're traveling through. Nice choice, though." Plus it gave him an idea for a drawing, but he didn't share that part. "So am I insane, or are you drawing something celestial, in one manner or another?" he asked. "I just can't decide if it's angelic or demonic."

Nic nodded, frowning in thought as she studied the graffiti. She almost thought it looked finished, that it worked better with the intentional vagueness. "I can't either... I think it's both? Or neither, maybe. Like an angel falling and becoming a demon, but it's still an angel too until it hits the bottom." Maybe she was more wasted than she'd thought, but the explanation seemed fitting. Smiling at the painting, Nic uncapped the black pen again to scrawl out 'Arachne' in a sharp stream of letters just below the graffiti.

He kept his eyes on her as she thought it through, and he had to admit he liked the mental imagery. Even if it was bullshit, and the reality of fallen angels wasn't quite so pretty. Neither were ascended demons, even if people would really probably find the notion romantic. Like the story of his mother. Ascended because she'd fallen in love. Yeah well she was still a creature with demonic instincts and tendencies, and she'd still fucked up her kids right well. "Angels fall and become demons?" he asked, voice light as he studied her, just wanting to hear her take.

Nic moved to sit in the grass next to the bike path, digging her cigarettes out of her backpack and stuffing her paints back in. "My mom spent a few weeks trying to get me into church," she began with a snicker, uncapping her forty for a drink and offering it Caleb's way. "They had this teen group? Y'know, make christianity cool for the metalheads and all? So they talked about Lucifer and how he fell, landed in hell, and all the angels who fought with him fell too and formed the hierarchy. Cool story, but church was lame. It made sense for hell, though. Anyone pissed off enough to go to war with God would make a good demon."

He took the offer, taking a drink before handing it back as he listened to her. He had to admit, it was always a little interesting for him, seeing things like angels and demons through someone else's eyes. When he knew so differently, knew how much was bullshit, but millions of people the world over believed in the same stories. "I suppose so." he said. "But doesn't everyone have at least a little reason to be pissed with the status quo?" he asked, mostly just to see what she would say.

Nic took the bottle back, swigging some down and wiping her lips on her sleeve. "Anyone who doesn't is a fucking liar," she agreed, lighting up and leaning her elbows on her legs. "If they say they can forgive to be forgiven? Bullshit. Some things don't slide. But some people just don't do real good with hate, I guess." And while Nic didn't have any reason or individual to direct hers at, she still felt better with her anger than the unexplainable hollow feeling that plagued her day in and out.

Caleb could understand hate very well. Though he also thought most people didn't actually hate anything. Not really. Not in that all encompassing rage sort of situation, when you were in the grips of it, and could not let go. Not that he'd ever been especially good at letting anything go. He was built to spin his wheels on things in a relentless, neverending manner, really. "...no. Some things don't slide." he agreed.

The hesitation didn't pass her notice, and with a frown Nic dug back into her cigarette pack for the remnants of her joint. "Sounds like there's some messy brainspace prompting this walk," she pointed out shrewdly. "So share, I will too," Nic added, lighting up the half joint and sucking on it. "And not just the joint, but it's good. Got it from some latino guy. But show me yours and I'll show you mine."

Christ, what an offer. He didn't know how to deal with it, so much. He couldn't tell her a good half of what was going on in his life, being it all revolved around what had happened to him recently, what he was, everything with that. But...maybe there was some shit. Maybe. He didn't know. Was he asking for trouble if he tried? It was a good offer though. One thing that he really felt was that he needed someone to talk to that wasn't Leija. Maybe he could talk to Nic. He liked the girl already. He honestly did plan on keeping up with her, maintaining a friendship. She was different than most of the females in his life and good god did he appreciate that. "You have messy headspace going on too?" he asked, since she'd said she'd share. "And just for fair warning--I usually do. My life is far more eventful than I'd like it to be, sometimes. You know that chinese curse, may you live in interesting times...that's me."

"Seriously Caleb? Look at me. Of course I have weird shit in my skull. Women are crazy, every single one of us. Guys are just stupid, you lot have it easy." She smirked, offering her dope over and leaning back on a palm, savoring the feel of grass under her hand. "And I know I wouldn't say it if I knew the full extent, but my life's boring. I could stand some interesting times. C'mon, spill and let's see if I'm still shockable. Then I'll bore you with my life's story. But don't worry, it's a short one."

Well, the women being crazy thing he could back up. Entirely. Because damn. And guys being stupid...probably. He eyed her, hesitating, but he took the joint and took a second to puff that, before handing it back, giving himself a few moments to think of what he might tell her, where he might start. He coughed, not having done that in...oh, ages. "Well I'll back you on the women being crazy thing." he finally said, figuring he'd start there. It was 'safe' as far as topics went.

Nic shook her head as he coughed, biting back any teasing words. She sucked down another hit, holding it in case he wanted more. "Good thing I was waiting for backers before publishing my findings," she joked instead, stubbing her unsmoked cigarette. "So is that your 'interesting times'? Girl trouble for cute little Caleb? Because my advice is simple; go gay if you can. Just... grab a dude and french him. People already talk shit at school, right? Trust me, being called a fag or dyke doesn't make it much worse."

"Well, that could be part of my life's interest. Just maybe. And by now, with the crazy I've had to put up with from the female population, if I could actually muster up interest in a guy, I would actually take your advice." Caleb chuckled and dropped back a little, propping himself on his elbows. "I'm cute?" he asked, purposely picking that out of what she said, mainly to see what she'd do with it. He was betting even odds that he got hit for it.

"Not for long you're not," Nic was quick to retort, feeling a faint burn in her cheeks as she raised a fist threateningly. He was easy on the eyes, but Nic hadn't yet found herself looking at him in any sort of romantic light. And even if she suddenly did? Well, just the thought of trying to act on it twisted her stomach faintly. Still, she worked to compose herself, leaning over to slug him in the arm and fighting her playful smile. "Stop trying to distract me, jerk. I'm wasted, you're not. That's dirty pool."

"Hey, you made a judgment on me, I have every right to ask about it." Caleb said, flashing a grin at her. "And hey, you surprised me. I was betting on getting hit for that." he added, amused. "People don't generally call me 'cute'. Of course, you can at least rest easy knowing that being 'cute' isn't really something any guy strives to be." he told her. "Puppies are cute and shit like that."

"Puppies are dangerous too," Nic pointed out, smirking back at his grin. "I remember some news story where a guy's puppy chewed off two of his toes while he was asleep. So don't feel too bad. And if you want? I could still hit you. Just putting that out there." Nic didn't quite get why guys wouldn't want to be cute, it was better than the gel-haired jocks or the wanna-be thugs any day.

Caleb smirked at her. "Who says I'm dangerous?" he asked. He was. He had gone out of town to kill off a bunch of demons, after all, and he'd actually done it. So really, in the grand scheme of things, he was in fact, dangerous. He knew he didn't come off that way though, something that generally he used to his advantage. "You have an assessment on that for me?" he asked. He also realized that he wasn't actually getting back into his issues right now, but it was a little more entertaining to just kind of banter with her.

It took her a second to figure out what he meant, her brow lining as Nic puzzled it over. "On you being dangerous?" she reiterated, nodding eventually. "I think you could be, yeah. You carry a knife, own a machete, don't fuck around with the retards at school but also don't go out of your way to scream 'look how different I am'. People claimed the Columbine kids were all quiet? You're not, so you're not some repressed psychopath... that means you've got staying power. How am I doing?" she asked, quirking a brow at him.

"Not too bad." Caleb said, still looking amused. "I'm definitely not Columbine material." Now, quiet sociopath, that he probably was, at least by human standards. But he could recognize it, too. And it wasn't fully that way, he knew he just had a really, really fucked moral compass. He missed out on the thinking he was better than everyone else or having no remorse for anything ever type thing.

"Good, I'd kick your suicided ass if you got me wrapped up in all that media bullshit or had people blaming metal or something." She couldn't know the full scope of it, but she already had some idea that Caleb's moral center was skewed. The things he'd said about hate, the leanings he had about the people they both dealt with; Nic recognized some of it. She'd probably be scared by the true extent of it, but with what she knew right now she just felt like they shared a wavelength. "So is that part of your interesting times? You being secretly dangerous?" she asked, going full-circle back to her question without trying to push too hard.

You have no idea. Caleb thought. The suicide mention, being dangerous, secrets...yeah. She had no clue there. And she really needed to stay in the dark on it. It hit then, that feeling like he needed someone he didn't have to edit himself with. But that hadn't worked out so well last time, now had it? No. Not at all. And even if he did decide to tell Nic something, it wouldn't be anytime soon. "I don't know." he said. "I had been going to mention the female issues. So, from a girl-perspective here...what does one do with an ex who still wants you, but you don't exactly want to cut out of your lfie entirely?" he asked.

"...huh." Nic didn't have anything else to say for a long, long moment as she considered that. She wasn't the best source of advice on dating or related issues, but he was asking. He wanted her input, so she had to come up with something. "Okay, you want to be friends, she wants to undo your jeans with her teeth?" Nic asked for clarification, shaking her head before he could answer. "Don't answer that. Have you thought about trying to set her up with someone else? Like a friend? Maybe she'd go for it if you were the one to set it up. If it were me, I'd want to keep the guy in personal rotation, still hang out with him, which'd be easier if I was dating his buddy. No pressure from hypothetical-me to get sweaty with him, which makes it easier being social."

It was possible that Caleb actually blushed a little there. Because he had very very vivid memories of Leija actually doing that. The undoing his jeans with her teeth thing. Yeah. Which wasn't helpful in the slightest at current. So he could feel his cheeks burning a bit and internally rolled his eyes at himself. That was great. He thought about her advice--which was in fact, sound. The only issue he had was he had one guy friend, and that friend was pretty taken. Even if he was a fucking idiot and wouldn't act on his feelings for Lullaby, he wouldn't actually want to set Leija up with someone he knew was fully preoccupied elsewhere. "Well, unless I can convince her to be a lesbian, and possibly you to be one too, I'm not sure that's an option." he said. He wondered if he'd twitch if he saw Leija with some other guy, and honestly didn't know. It wasn't like he wasn't still physically attracted to her, after all. That was an issue he dealt with most of the time when he was around her. Hrm. He probably wouldn't know unless he saw it.

Luckily it was dark, and Nic was inattentive enough to miss the slight flush of Caleb's cheeks. Even if she'd caught it, she wouldn't have harped though. She had the same reaction any time people insinuated things about her own romantic life, or lack thereof. "I doubt I could seduce your ex, but buy me a bottle of something cheap and strong and I'll give it a shot," she teased, wondering what sort of girl Caleb went for, even if he'd broken up with her. Things had been so casual every time she saw him that she couldn't imagine it being anyone like her. "Or you could go the dickhead route; start dating someone else and turn the ex into your closest confidant. It's a clear 'no nookie' message, but at the same time you're putting a heap of trust in her. Of course, there's a reason I call that the dickhead route."

His issue was she was his only true source of full disclosure, and he needed her not to be. But he didn't have anyone else. He was thinking about Dean but hey--the guy had just killed someone and was leaving the country for a while, so that was just going to have to wait. "Well, she's a beautiful girl, you two would be very...." he paused, eyeing Nic for a moment. "Aesthetically pleasing together." he opted for. Just colorscheme wise, the redhead, all warm tones and stuff from Leija, cold ones from Nic with her black hair... Yep. It'd be an interesting sight. Which he wasn't really going to start thinking about overly much right now. "I guess I could do something like that but I'd have to have just a little bit of a lobotomy first." he said. "I...kind of have trust issues. I don't really date a whole lot in the first place, and it kind of takes me a while to get to a place where I'd do that. And right now? After crazy going on really hardcore with my last two? I'm kind of wondering about becoming a monk."

"You'd look horrible with a monk haircut," Nic said flatly, snickering over his assessment of herself with Leija. Honestly, Nic wasn't really sure if she preferred a gender, and she had no reason to decide just yet. So right now? It was all for laughs. "Seriously though, is it at the point with your ex where you need an answer now? Are you okay with how it all is right now? Can you get by and hope for a better option? Because, well... I suck for insight, both choices I thought up would have some damage. And secret-dangerous or not, I don't think you'd like that."

"Well, guess I can't go for being a monk then." Caleb said with a sigh. He watched her for a long moment. "No?" he asked. "Think that I'd be the type who wouldn't opt for something due to the damage it might cause her?" he asked. "You're not going to tell me you think I'm sweet now, are you?" he asked. "And...things aren't at a breaking point or anything. I'm just kind of at a loss. I don't really want her to fuck off entirely, we were friends before everything went to hell. I just...I don't know. Have issues, I guess." Didn't everyone?

"I think you're no sadist," she answered easily, "You're dark, which is cool, but you're still cool. Maybe if you had no other choice, sure. But if you think there's another way? Hell, we're young. You're bitter enough that a little drawn out uncertainty won't make you blink. Which, again, is cool. And if you get all emo on me I'm going to spraypaint you a custom shirt," she warned playfully. "Or do your makeup for you. Whichever would look worse, which is a huge tossup."

He laughed a touch. At least at that last bit. Her first statement hit close to home, though. Because he'd recently found out that he really, emphatically was not a sadist. Even doing something that needed to be done, stitching up Dean and Lullaby, he'd just had such a difficult time with it because they'd been in so much pain. It had gotten to him, bad, and he was still carrying that around. It just echoed back to all the people at the demon bar, too. No. Sadistic he was not. "You know, you're pretty observant and insightful." he told her, skipping over the bits about getting emo. He generally didn't. Sure, everyone had their bouts of depression but generally he tried not to be too heavy with it, even when he was alone. But it was just striking him that she had a good head on her shoulders. That she saw things pretty clearly. And that was with being drunk and high. So...yeah.

Nic shook her head emphatically, keeping her eyes shut for a second after as the motion made her head spin. "Only when I'm trashed," she downplayed, looking at him again and, despite all better judgment, drinking another mouthful of beer. "Or maybe I only talk to people for this long when I'm drinking. Which I don't, really." Normally she got drunk alone and in private, then enjoyed the buzz and wiped out on her skateboard repeatedly. "You're just an interesting guy, so I get curious and dust off the old brain cells."

"Well, maybe you should try it more often, you're good at it." Caleb offered. He thought so, at any rate. It wasn't like they'd spent inordinate amounts of time together, but she was pretty steady with accurate assessments. He could appreciate that. Particularly considering he tended to be like that as well. He was always paying attention, and that often meant he picked up on a lot of things other people didn't. For someone who was pretty separate from the rest of humanity, he understood it fairly decently. "So I'm cute, dangerous and interesting." he added. "Good to know." he said. He flashed a little smirk at her. "I was promised your life story, I believe."

She sighed at that, feeling the nerves, but less than she normally would. Yet another pro-teen drinking argument, Nic mused silently, fixing a much more serious look on Caleb than she had thusfar tonight. "You were... I won't welch. But seriously, Caleb. Breathe a word of this to anyone, I don't care how much you trust them, and we'll have issues. Messy issues, which it sounds like you don't have room for, so you have no choice."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Nic, if there's anyone in this town who can keep a secret? It's me." he said. Him and probably like...Dean, who'd been sitting on the information that his murdered best friend was living with him. But still. "You have my word, if that makes you feel better." he told her seriously.

She nodded once, smiling a little and popping another cigarette from her pack. "It does," Nic told him, lighting up and taking a deep, mixed breath. "I guess you could say that technically? I'm only three years old. Which sounds weird, but I told you it was a short story, right?" The smile turned humorless as Nic flicked ash away. "I was... somewhere around fourteen, maybe fifteen when they found me. Down in Wisconsin. And whoever I was before that?" She exhaled a cloud of smoke, waving a hand through it instead of finishing her own explanation. "Gone. It's not quite an ex-girlfriend problem, but I did promise to share," she finished, winking to keep herself composed.

He kept his eyes on her as she spoke, watching all the mannerisms, listening to her tone. Really focusing in as he did from time to time. "You've got amnesia?" he asked. "Total?" He knew there were different kinds. Hell. There was almost a full week of his life that he just flat out did not remember much of. One night that he only knew something bad had happened to him, and that was it. And while that didn't in any way compare to what she was talking about, he at least had the tiniest taste of experience with memory loss.

"Total." It was a simple echo from Nic as she met his gaze and managed to hold it for a moment. "The cops tried a little bit when they first found me, tried tracking where I'd come from, and it led nowhere. When my mom adopted me, she had some doctors try audio clues, stimulation, even hypnosis. None of it led anywhere." She looked down at her folded legs, free hand fidgeting with the fabric of her jeans as she tried to keep everything even and level. "And most of the time? I'm okay. I hate most people, but I like me. i love my mom. And then sometimes I wonder..." Who was I? It didn't need to be said out loud.

"You wonder what the fuck happened?" Caleb suggested. "Most people are fairly hateable. You, I like too. So we're in agreeance on that." he said. "Though if you can't call it back up even through hypnosis or anything...maybe it's best left where it is, if you're happy here." he suggested, voice just a little lighter in tone now. He had a feeling he didn't in any way want to really know what happened to him, after all.

She nodded slightly, still watching anxious fingers tiwst and pinch at a small hole near one knee. "I was... when I got found I was hurt. I always wondered why, if there'd been someone with me, if they were alive. I guess if they were, they'd have tried to find me by now." She looked up and smirked a little, shaking her head to dispel the tension as her braids tossed lightly. "So yeah, that's me in a nutshell. The adoption shit doesn't bother me, the rumors don't bother me, but no one we deal with at school deserves this kind of ammunition."

He backed her up on that. People were fantastically stupid, generally speaking, and he could pretty much take or leave the population at MSHS. He just didn't care. He could tell that it was a sensitive spot with her though, and had the urge to reach out and still her picking at her jeans, but didn't. "You said you were hurt." he said, voice still that little bit quieter than usual. "How so?" he asked. He was also wondering if she'd ever tried a psychic, but figured she'd look at him like he was insane if he suggested it. Plus, he didn't actually know any, if one didn't count Dean, and Dean wasn't that kind of psychic.

Caleb got his wish; Nic's hands ceased their picking so she could tug up one sleeve and reveal a slight scar, no more than an inch, just below her elbow. "Cuts," she said first, "A lot of them. Small, clean ones according to the hospital. Bruises on my ribs like I was..." she frowned intently, recalling what her mom had told her when she'd asked in the past, "like a snake? Or like a vice grip, but people-sized. They said I was malnourished, that I must've been out in the woods for at least a week, but I don't remember." Her hands flitted as she spoke, drifting to a shoulder, then her ribs, her right hip, anywhere she knew a scar lay hidden. "Kinda freaky, isn't it?"

He watched, noting everywhere she pointed out a hidden scar. And the huge snake thing...that could probably have been a lot of different effects. What caught his attention more though was the whole clean cuts thing. That sounded like blood magic, but he supposed could have been anything too. It was possible he was over-identifying. "Sounds like something fucked up happened." he said. Then he paused, sort of internally debating on quite a bit right then. "I hope you're safe now, from whatever it was that happened." She'd said Wisconsin, and now she was here, though he knew for a fact here wasn't exactly safe. He sat up properly again, still watching her. "I know it doesn't actually compare--" he said. "But before I came here, I ditched from home for a while. And I blocked a lot of that out. No idea what fully happened to me." he told her. Which wasn't information he gave just anyone, but since they were sharing... He also paused, then tugged up the sleeve of his shirt, not fully up to his elbow, but about midway up his forearm--which was enough, of course. He was covered in scars, she didn't need to see much to get that he had some he made a habit of hiding as well. "And there's these." he added, turning his arm over for her so she could see all the scarlines that spanned his flesh, from the wrist up, mostly, save for the more recent scar that was higher up on the back of his hand towards his thumb.

Nic wasn't dumb, she couldn't assume all of those were from the week he mentioned. Even if it was just that one arm, there'd be serious problems for anyone who got cut that much in so short a time. So that meant... Is he a cutter? She'd known one or two back in Green Bay, but they'd mostly been doing it for the attention. "Hell, Caleb," she breathed quietly, tilting her head to get a better look at the surface of his arm. "What happened? Where'd all of those come from? And..." she frowned, forcing herself to focus more intently on what he was saying instead of what he was showing. "Where'd you go? Why'd you leave?"

He didn't let her look for that long, not really liking anyone seeing them in the first place, and so he tugged his sleeve back down again. There was a reason he only ever wore long sleeved shirts. "I don't know. Various things, I guess. I got into a lot of...well, if I say 'nasty shit', that might be putting it mildly. There were a lot of fights." he said. "And let's say my home life wasn't the best." he added to answer her question. "I still don't know if the parents even knew I was gone. There's a reason I'm living here with my brothers, and not home with them. They took off for Europe, dumped me with my brother. And if I never see them ever again? It'd be too soon. Remember when I said I was in the hospital and shit? Never heard from them. I know they knew, but never heard a word." He didn't sound like he was fishing for sympathy on it. He really wasn't. Mostly it just played into what he'd been talking about earlier. Knowing about hate.

Nic couldn't fault him for covering back up after giving her a brief glimpse. Her own scars were nothing by comparison; a scattershot collection of old punctures that she didn't even think about most days. She sat wordlessly, thinking on what he was telling her, on the home life and family that weren't so welcoming. Maybe if something or someone from her old life was out there somewhere, Nic was better off without them. Maybe they were like Caleb's parents, and they just didn't care. "Shit," she said at last, "I guess... we're both better off, maybe. Even if your ex is crazy? You've got people here who do notice when you're in trouble. And even if I might have someone out there who knows who I was? I have plenty of reason here to be who I am." The latter part was something of a mantra for Nic, an almost-prayer she would whisper to herself whenever the self-doubt got too strong.

"If it makes any difference, I like who you are." He told her. "I don't generally...." he paused, trying to figure out a way to put it that would be honest but not put things on the spot. "I don't know. I'm not a people person, obviously. I don't actually have much time for anyone, it's usually got to be someone that I find something I like about them. I like hanging out with you so far." he said. "Actually," he put in, giving her a light half smile that was just a touch hesitant. "It's kind of a relief hanging out with you. Most of the people I hang out with there's pressure of one description or another. But you don't have that. I don't really think you expect anything out of me."

"Why would I?" Nic asked, vaguely confused. Was that a normal thing for him to deal with? "We've run into each other... twice? And it's cool, so if I expect anything it's for it to still be cool the third time. Weird, though," she added, sticking her tongue out for a second, "Doubt anyone's ever said I was a relief. But if you're not just messing with me, I still have your number since you gave it to me yesterday." She chuckled softly, finally stuffing her spraycans and paint pens away. "So I can call you if it's something you'd wanna do again. Even if you don't need my zero-experience with relationships."

"Trust me, most people that I deal with expect something from me." Caleb said. "And I gave you my number for a reason." he added. He did in fact, want to be friends with her. So, he was attempting to do that. It was still a little new for him. He wasn't very good at this shit. "And I won't always need any relationship advice, I'm still sort of thinking the more I avoid that the better. I think girls are either just baseline insane, or they're fine, then they meet me and go insane. So far you seem immune, so that's cool." he continued. Then he gave her a light little half smile. "And here's where I ask you for a favor. Or if you'd be interested in helping me with something."

She gave him a wary glance, pausing with the zipper of her backpack half-closed. "See, I knew there was a hidden motive," Nic joked, zipping her pack fully closed. "But yeah, I'm immune to drama. Got two vaccines on the end of my wrists." She waved her fists briefly, tucking them into the front pocket of her hoodie. "And I might be interested in helping, something tells me it's not tutoring you in algebra or anything, since I suck at it. So lay it on me."

"A friend of mine asked me to keep an eye on someone. Not in a stalkery sort of way, just for clarity. Just needs to know if he's shootin his mouth off about shit. But you know the school better than I do, and everyone in it, even if you do avoid the stupids, which I know is a good ninety percent of the student body. Gabe's his name. Winters I think is his last name. Basically? I just need to be sure he isn't telling any weird stories. And yeah, I know that's all vague, but the information I got was pretty vague as well." Caleb said. "That's all. I just need to know what the guy's talking about of late. Or, if you don't want to do that, just lemme know who he hangs out with, what you know about the guy?"

"The puck-fucker?" Nic asked incredulously the moment Caleb had gotten Gabe's name out entirely. "That Gabe Winters? The guy crazy enough to let Chrissy Chapman near his testicles?" Okay, this was officially hilarious and intriguing. "I'm pretty sure he's always telling weird stories, like how he's awesome or how his shits smell like fresh cinnamon rolls." He was, really, Nic's antithesis on almost every level. And now Caleb wanted her to keep an eye on him? Yeah, she wouldn't stick out in that scenario. "I can try?" she offered, "Maybe cut class and listen to the airheads swapping diet pills for laxatives in the bathroom, gabbing about the boys."

Caleb had to chuckle at her. He gave her a grin, too. "Thank you." he said. "Though really, I was already wary of the guy now I'm not sure anyone should be within ten yards, if he let Chrissy at him. Who knows what he's carrying around." Diseases apleanty, probably. "But yeah, just...anything that doesn't quite make sense, or seems fucked up. Y'know. Beyond him having anything to do with Chrissy."

She nodded, wondering just how she'd get close enough to listen without having to actually deal with Gabe, or if she could get away with a good punch in his smug mouth, since she was a girl. might not stop him from hitting back. "Fucked up like... the stories about how the hockey team bonds? Or fucked up like recent events that don't seem like he'd be involved in them?" If Caleb was asking, Nic would assume the latter. Otherwise, what interest would he have in what Gabe was doing?

"That second one." Caleb confirmed. "And I'll owe you." he added, saying it seriously. Because he did in fact need to do this, but he just wasn't in a position where he could do it very easily. She knew people though, and even if she didn't? She knew where she could find things out, where people hung out, who they talked to, she was just flat out a better candidate for monitoring the asshole. And really, Caleb's other method of dealing with a major fucking liability like Gabe was to hand him over to Melia and never have to worry about the fucker again, but he was trying to go the non-homicidal route here.

"I'll remember that you said that," Nic agreed, wondering just how to do this. She could bother a few people, pay closer attention in gym class for once, or even just stay awake in study hall. It's a start, she thought, surprising herself with her willingness to help out. Probably because, as Caleb had admitted, there were no expectations here. And she liked that just as much as he did. "Might take a while, if there's anything to even hear," she cautioned, wobbling unsteadily as she got her feet under her.

He looked up at her, then got to his feet as well. "There's no timeframe." he said. "So don't worry about that." After all, someone's capacity to break under pressure wasn't something one timed. So, sitting on a secret like that...could be any time that he actually got around to letting it slide farther than he had. Now hopefully, he wouldn't be that much of a moron, and maybe he'd stay breathing. "But yeah, remember I said that." he told her. He kind of wanted to tell her if any shit was going down that she could call him, but he didn't know how to phrase it. Plus, didn't he have enough shit to worry about on that front? He knew he'd check in with her anyways, though, if Marquette got hit upside the head with another bout of Stupid.

Shouldering her backpack, Nic stood awkwardly for a moment, tugging at the straps. She almost said she would remember, but that'd be repeating herself, and Nic wasn't drunk enough to fall into that habit yet. She was sharing Caleb's urge though, wanting to offer her home phone line if he ever needed her, but that'd seem weird. If he needed her? He'd call. And if the town went crazy again? She figured she could get him into the hospital with her. "So..." Nic murmured eventually, "Need someone to make sure you get home safe?"

Caleb smirked at her. "I was actually wondering that about you." he said. Since he had been. She was the one who was drunk and high. So that wasn't exactly a winning combination in a town where once, when he'd been out walking, a vampire had taken a bite out of him. "Y'know, it's easier to stalk and everything if I'm actually walking with you." he told her, coming back to how their conversation had opened. And technically, he'd planned on following her home anyhow, just in case anything happened. This would just be slightly easier.

"Creepy," she was quick to say, grinning in spite of herself and slipping earbuds from her front pocket. "But okay... if I get to pick the tunes," she offered, dangling an earbud in his direction. "Sister Machine Gun, I swear you'll like it if you haven't already heard it." She'd be disappointed when the walk ended, of course; going home to a still house and a short night's sleep. But the night had been more than worth it.

 
He laughed. "Yeah, I've heard it. Impressive, though." he said, taking the bud from her, and not commenting on the creepy thing. He was, in fact, a creepy stalker. He'd accepted this about himself. He shoved his hands in his pockets as they started to walk, and while he didn't look like it, he was keeping a really paranoid vigil as they did so. He actually liked this girl, he'd rather nothing happened to her. So, he'd just make sure that tonight, nothing did.