Titanoboa

Future Imperfect 1: School Daze P1

Colour crimson in my eyes
one or two could free my mind...
This is how it ends
I feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream...

Fading out again
I feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream
So tell me when it kicks in...

The classroom was very quiet, as it always was about this time. All the 15 year olds were packed in their desks, either spacing off or watching intently, to the current information Edwin Brotch was currently giving about up and coming items of import. "...and so- at age 16, every Vault 101 resident takes the Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test, or G.O.A.T., which helps determine job placement. In six months, all of you will officially be at an age where you will be taking this test, and moving forward in your lives from simple-"

Totally menial. Don't lie to us Mr. Brotch.

"-jobs, unto the occupation you'll be spending the rest of your lives taking care of..."

LeDaux. James LeDeaux.

Wow.

Okay, so maybe that doesn't exactly work the same as when your last name is 'Bond'...but I suppose that is simple digression from the point. As James Jr, more informally known as 'Maverick', pushed his feet forward and shifted backwards - he began to daze off. If most people couldn't quite their dayjob, Maverick could never quit his day-dream....

His imagination was a wild part of his personality - and took residence (in his mind's eye) about 75% of his day when he wasn't spending time with Butch (whom had started walking with him in the halls and eating with him constantly since that night in the atrium, in which J. M. still blushes to remember-), occasionally tinkering, chilling with Amata, or paying attention to Mr. Brotch's science lessons. Or litterature...he didn't mind the pre-war literature classes they were instructed upon, on the rarest of occasions. Of course, these books were always 'Vault Approved', which basically meant any book that promoted 'Delinquincy', 'Sexual Contact', 'Alcoholism', 'Prophanity', okay....or pretty much anything interesting for that matter....was either completely taken out of the lessons, or 'rewritten in a vault sanctioned' capacity. That said, Maverick had his own set of pre-war books, (like Gone with the Wind and the Outsiders) which they read the vault approved versions of in class, he read frequently. His father had given them to him on his 13th birthday, telling him to NEVER allow anybody know he had them. His favourite was the Outsiders, a story of "greasers" facing off against the socially popular "Socs" in an all out war that had terribly bloody consequences, but also spoke with a voice of many generations. He loved the story, and the way the world was described pre-war made Mavvy marvel and dream. He knew the world wasn't like that anymore, that's why they were down in the Vault, in the first place; but, a teenager could dream about driving flying T-Birds and seeing wide open, green, country sides, right?

J.M.'s thoughts were interrupted when he felt a set of hands on the lower portion of his trapezius muscles, running softly up and down against his jumpsuit. Mav almost jumped, but the hands on his back were so nice they made him instantly relax and almost keen to the movement. "Responsive, as ever-" The familiar hood's voice tickled the blonde's earlobes and careened into his chest, sending waves of warmth all about his extremities. A blush worked its way up his features, tickling the edges of small, refined ears.

"S-shut up, DeLoria..." Mav hissed back, but leaned further into the seat and tilted his head back slightly. This was probably a mistake, the movement would most certainly catch Mr. Brotch's attention, if he hadn't already. A smug grin bound its way up Butch's features, taking residence in the edges of the blonde's upper peripheral.

The two were bordering on losing the world when Edwin snapped their last names into the air, snapping his tone like a whip. "DeLoria! LeDeaux! This is no place for fraternization of any kind." The both of them startled back to reality, Maverick especially jumping out of his skin. Trouble just wasn't his middle name, despite the fact that it literally meant 'one who doesn't conform'. The teacher pinched the bridge of his nose; "I would have expected this from teenagers, especially Mr. DeLoria. But I'm disappointed, LeDeaux. You used to be so well behaved." A sigh left his mouth; "You can just remain after my daily lessons, for a while, perhaps, and we'll have a little talk about your recent delinquency." Honestly, JM felt like Brotch was blowing it out of proportion - but when someone behaved almost perfectly their whole life, naturally adults would expect the highest standards, I suppose. Never-the-less, the dressing down, especially in front of his peers - made Maverick feel more than a little self-conscious.