walksthebounds | (no subject)

(no subject)

Jamie has gotten them out of the sticky situation with the tickets, and then out of the station and safely into the city. This would normally be the time for some well-placed boasting, and Jamie is about to do just that -

- when he catches sight of a canal running over the street, over the tracks, on a set of yellow arches.

They are more than familiar.

Home.

The word only rings in his head for a second - long enough for his heart to start racing and ever-present Hope to flare up in him like a beacon, higher than ever before - before his brain catches up with him and starts pointing out the far too many ways things that are wrong, wrong, wrong. The trains are wrong. The clothes are wrong. The machines buzzing about everywhere, they're all wrong, and the buildings are wrong, and even the arches, now he comes to look closely at them, are different from what he remembers, must be. It's not his Home. Can't be his Home.

Get ahold of yourself, Jamie, he thinks, trying not to double over with disappointment - it's not like he's not been through this before -

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Jamie rolls his eyes. "Well, that's about to change, isn't it?"

"No thanks to Them!" Through clenched teeth as he tries on another jacket.

"Right," says Jamie, exasperated, "and They're all kinds of awful things, no argument here, but this is not the time!"

"If you hadn't noticed, I am trying to find one that fits, see?" Equally exasperated. Joris is co-operating here, if you had not noticed, Jamie.

The sound of swearing coming from the changing shed is rather hard to ignore.

Adam takes Pivens and Fox-Kensingham aside - Pivens because he's quick and Fox-Kensingham because he's large - and says, "If we're quiet when we come in, we'll catch them at it."

And they do, in fact, catch them at it.

"Go and get Smitty," Adam says, turning to Pivens, and Pivens jumps to answer.

He doesn't know if they're thieves or pranksters, but either way, they're the stupidest idiots ever to cross Adam Mackenzie.

First attempt at theiving is now being his first getting-caught-at-it. Joris just mutters and sighs, turning around to face the boys in the doorway.

Fox-Kensingham blinks at Joris. "My blazer, I believe."

"And my trousers," says Adam, eyeing Jamie in a way that is not in the least friendly.

"Do, please, go on and help yourself to my shirt while you're at it. Red shirts are not school uniform."

"You can have the trousers back," Jamie says instantly.

It's a pity, considering how well they fit him, but - there's really no other choice.

Jamie might not have many scruples, but he'd rather not see a pair of boys his age knocked off by Rule Two just for wanting their own clothes back.

For once, Joris follows Jamie's lead without question or comment. He slips off the blazer, and starts hanging it up right where he found it, neatly.

So all-white and all-red really are unusual on this world. Adam and Fox-Kensingham eye Joris' uniform, then Jamie's red Creema di Leema outfit.

"Adam," Fox-Kensingham finally glances back to him, "Who are these people?"

"Chessmen probably."

Adam surveys the two thieves coolly from beyond his glasses.

"Red pawn and white knight, by the look of them."

"Chessmen! If only you knew!"

Jamie looks at the remaining boys, without much hope that this is going to end well. "Let me give you the trousers back and we'll go."

Not likely, Jamie.

"I believe they give you special clothes to wear in prison. I'll get them back then."

Whatever Jamie's plans may be, Joris' plans do NOT include going to prison, no matter what world this may be.

But before he can say anything (thankfully) to make that point clear, Pivens returns with an older man in a shirt with the same sort of logo on it that the jackets have. The man is tall, and clearly not as up in arms about the situation as the other boys are.

"No sir- That wasn't quite what I meant." Even with Pivens still trying to explain the situation to him. "They were stealing our clothes."

The teacher looks vaguely bored with the entire proceedings, and Jamie starts feeling a little more optimistic. There are some adults who lump all children together, and this is clearly one of them.

"What are you two boys doing in here?"

Jamie looks appropriately abashed in the presence of authority, and says, "I'm afraid we came without the proper clothes, sir."

Joris is learning! He just keeps quiet and let Jamie talk. Specially since it looks as if the coach looks entirely uninterested in the whole situation-

Or anything outside of what he considers his job.

"That's no reason for borrowing other people's, or for skulking in here. Get out on the field, both of you. You three get out there too."

Which seems to be making everyone go out and play what-ever-game that is out there, even if he recognises them as students or not.

Jamie is feeling rather pleased with himself with his deft handling of the situation - prison hardly seems likely now, does it?

This lasts right until the moment he catches the eye of the boy in spectacles. He does not look as if he has given up. And when one of the other boys opens his mouth to explain the situation, the boy in spectacles - Adam, his name seems to be - kicks him in the ankle to signal him to keep quiet.

Something's up.

The teacher shepherds them all out of the shed and across the platform, Jamie growing uneasier all the time. They don't, after all, know what kind of games these are they're expected to play, and Jamie has seen some nasty games in his day. He sneaks a glance for Helen across the field, but there's no sign of her. Clever of her to be hiding. This is clearly not a place where girls are welcome, or expected.

Even if the coach did not know which boys belonged there and which did not, the other boys clearly did. They circled around Joris and Jamie, and soon whispers and quiet laughter started.

"I know. It would be old Smitty." "Right then. After that!"

Joris just continues walking, teeth clenched and his hands in fists at his sides. The field everyone was herding them to hardly looked like any sport he knew of- there was nothing but sets of sticks set into the ground.

The coach, Smitty, finally took his place on the side. "Right. Start again from the beginning of the over." And then went back to his own little daydream.

There's not much they can do. Rule Two ties their hands - if they fight back, and the boys hurt them, the consequences might not be good for anyone.

So Jamie puts on the large white buckled things that the boys hand them for their legs, and takes the wooden bat thing he's given in his hands, and waddles over to where they point him and waits for it to be over. At least nothing too awful's likely to happen with Smitty there.

He hopes.

The rest of the boys spread out- for what reason, Joris had no idea. (Neither did Jamie, by the looks of it, so he did not feel particularly too bad about not knowing.)

Joris just held the odd bat they had given him, carefully watching one of the other boys everyone else seemed to be focused on. The boy marched past Joris, and then turned around and started running back towards him, whirling one of his arms to wind up for a hit-

With a frown and without much further thought, Joris stuck up an arm to block the blow-

But it never came. Instead the other boy just tossed the heavy red ball he had been holding straight at Jamie.

It's a good thing Jamie's good at dodging.

He jumps aside just in time, as the ball clatters into the three sticks next to him and they all fall over.

The schoolmaster blinks. "Wasn't that out?"

"Oh, no, sir!" chorus a set of angelic voices - lying, obviously, but there's not much Jamie can do about it. "The wicket just fell down." One of them props the sticks - the wicket - back up and they all trot back to where they were.

Jamie sighs inwardly, and prepares himself for a lot of dodging. Oh well; at least he'll be able to commiserate later with Helen about being stoned.

What sort of game is this supposed to be, tossing rocks at people? And they certainly did not expect Joris to just stand there while-

...

Obviously not. Which is why they gave him the bat. Very well, then.

The boy with the ball started his run to toss the red ball at Jamie, and this time, Joris was ready for him. Joris aimed the bat for a quick jab to the boy's stomach, ready to move in for a sweep to his legs should the boy dodge-

The ball-thrower did not even try to dodge or block. Really, what sort of game was this?

Adam rolls his eyes as a group of boys start shouting at the one in white.

"They don't know the first thing about it!" Jones says to Adam, grinning and clearly more than a little amused by the spectacle.

"I can see that," Adam says. That's the whole point, isn't it? "They'll have to learn, won't they?"

Then the schoolmaster gives the signal and the game starts up again - such as it is.

Joris will be damned if he will just stand around and watch them throw red stones at Jamie-

But apparently that seems to be the point of this idiotic 'game'. (And people called his world crazy!)

Muttering, Joris manages to just stand there and watch them toss the ball at Jamie a few more times. Jamie manages to dodge most of them, though he probably would have done better if they had not tied those stupid splints on his legs.

After that, however, everyone decided to move about on the field, leaving Joris and Jamie still at their spots.

And now apparently everyone is supposed to walk about. Everyone, that is, except for Jamie, who was hit in the leg with the most recent ball, and is therefore not walking but hopping about - which of course entertains everyone vastly.

Jamie has given up on learning the rules by this point, and when Adam comes over to inform him, contemptuously, that he is supposed to hit the ball, Jamie just shrugs.

Then someone else wanders over and throws a ball at Joris instead, so Jamie doesn't know what he's suppose to do about it.

Joris totally was not just standing there and sulking. Honestly. If the way the game was played meant that he was just supposed to stand there and let them throw stones at Jamie, then fine, he will just-

Wait.

Now they were throwing the ball at him.

... Finally, here is something he can act on. Joris hits the red ball with the bat, with all of his pent-up frustration and anger at this whole situation.

The poor ball disappears out of sight.