Mr. Fickleberry's Story

They were everywhere, doing what they wanted. In his home.

A glance to his wife was her only warning that he was now preparing to go on the offensive in straightening out the chaos that these... teens were causing. Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he began the trek through his house in search of each teenager that had arrived. His eyes were cold and steeled against anything he may see. There had been screaming of bloody murder in this house, and that would not be continuing unless someone was on fire or looking for himself or wife. And if the latter is the option, the reason for yelling had better we damn good.

He scaled up to the second floor and paused at the congregation gathered around the girls' bedroom. "Mr. Laudati, Mr. Kentworth," he stated as he walked up to the boys hovering at the girls' room. His hands were placed behind his back and clenched to help in keeping his calm composure. "This is not a playground. You do not shout without cause in this house. A reason for shouting; if someone is dying, and if you are shouting, you are shouting because you are trying to get help from myself or Mrs. Fickleberry and can not leave said dying person. That is just a common courtesy. Now, go down to the den so we can all become...better acquainted and your tasks can be assigned."

Respect, it was huge to the elder man and these children were already beginning to show lack of it. He knew that it would be hard to get respect from this group, but if they wanted to stay, they would at least respect his property and family. It was why he referred to them by their last names. First names were far too familiar a thing to address them by, and he would prefer to be addressed in a like fashion.

Standing in the doorway now and looking at the girls that were still staring dumbfounded as if someone left in a tiff, the salt and pepper man made way to allow them to pass by. "Ms. Kettle, Ms. Denkley. To the den. You will have time enough to unpack and familiarize yourselves later." Once they had passed by, he made his way down the hallway, noticing that someone left the balcony door ever slightly ajar. He didn't already want a suicide attempt on the grounds. The ladder he had left for the work on the roof was shifted just slightly. Climbing up, he saw one of the kids lounging on the roof as if it were a place of safety. His grip on the ladder tightened as he called out. "Ms. Carter. The roof is not for laying about. If you wish to work on replacing it, then that can be arranged. But for now, you will climb down from here and come in to the den. There are some ground rules that must be gone over."

Being sure he was heard and acknowledged, he climbed back down the ladder and to the boys room where one final boy remained, staring blankly out at the scenery. "Mr. Paradonas," he called, only knowing he was acknowledged by the turn of a head. "Meet in the den, we will be going over all rules and introductions in this house." Something about this boy didn't sit well with the elder and he turned to go back to the den to await their arrival.

Mr. Fickleberry was not a man to waste any time and a list of general house rules could be found in the den. He stood by his wife and daughter while the group would file in. The rules were pinned up and very clear to read:

*No vandalism
*Beyond tasks assigned, you are allowed to be within the house or the barn unless permission is otherwise given
*No swearing in the presence of an elder
*Address any of the Fickleberry family with respect and courtesy
*When in doubt, always ask permission
*If you are assigned a task, you are to complete it unless otherwise stated
*Eat what is served for your meals
*Curfew of those 16 and below are 10:00PM, 11:00PM for all others
*Work starts no later than 8:00AM, following Breakfast served at 7:00AM
*Sleeping quarters are assigned a boys room and girls room and will not be changed
*No smoking in the house, and only done by those of age
*No drinking
*No law-breaking in general
*Rules of the home are subject to change or be modified

Alisha sighed happily as she sat, hugging her knees as she watched the sunset with James by her side. It felt strange to have snuck out, Mr.Fickleberry seemed like a man who wouldn't tollerate sneaking out and ignoring important information, but she felt - as long as she was here - a little bit of rebillion wouldn't hurt anybody.

She felt a tap at her high and turned her head to see James passing her a pen and notepad. Alisha smiled and took them from him, then began writing responses to the questions he asked. The two of them 'chatted' happily for a while until it came to a particular question.

"Why are you here?" James asked her, looking into her eyes, seemingly attempting to read her through her re-action. Alisha bit her lip softly, then glanced down at the notepad and began to write. Shrugging, she'd show the note to him, "They thought the could fix me" and then would write another one to put him off the subject, glancing over to the porch as she wrote.

Alisha showed the new note to James, then gave a weak smile as she looked up to him, "Maybe we should go inside. I don't want to make Mr.Fickleberry mad.."

" Well that was interesting..." he said as Lainey blew past him and out the window, part of him wanted to follow her but
James caught sight of the burly Mr. Fickleberry, a quiet smirk crept across his lips as he stood as what was know as "parade rest".
'thank god, I can turn off my brain and just be a tool for a while' that was the last thought that crossed his mind for a bit. The curious fire than gnawed at him was extinguished by the cold indifference of following orders.

"This is not a playground. You do not shout without cause in this house. A reason for shouting; if someone is dying, and if you are shouting, you are shouting because you are trying to get help from myself or Mrs. Fickleberry and can not leave said dying person. That is just a common courtesy. Now, go down to the den so we can all become...better acquainted and your tasks can be assigned." The man had said.

"Sir." He said with a nod as he left for the den. It was nice, this empty bliss. How many times could he just let go of this whole humanity thing and just be a tool? The idea had always toyed with him, it was why he wanted to join up with the army, that and it fact it would whisk him away from his family never to return.
'oh one can dream.'

He watched james walk out the door along with the other girl.' woah... it's gonna be easy as hell to fly under the radar here with him here' His thoughts turned back to Lainey, her outburst and dashing out the window was strange as well, A grin crept across his lips but he quickly dismissed it and took a seat in the den, sitting propper like he had been taught. His eyes were glazed over ,staring off into the wall like he could see for miles. If anyone talked to him his focus would snap to them, along with the soft smile that said' yes, I am listening and happy to do so.' even tho he was in auto pilot.

'Just go with the flow... let it pass through you like air through the branches of a tree..' His uncle's words crept into his mind again.

Nero's frown deepened as the host of the house left him with explicit instructions to meet in the den. He really didn't care who else was in the house, nor to listen to some guy give him instructions and directions on every aspect of his life. At the same time, he didn't want freedom without any basis with which to use it. He had some goals, sure, but what would he do after high school? Where would he go? He was trapped, doomed to be under his father's rule for the rest of his life. With a sigh, he tried to think of the positives. At least he had a few weeks away from the hell.

His hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie, the young blonde trudged down the stairs and toward the den of the manor. While passing by the front door, he noticed a girl walking inside, seemingly lost at what was even happening. Lost, that would be a good way to describe them all. Her all black ensemble seemed out of place in such an old fashioned estate, but he was sure with the number of kids that probably had been through this place, there was probably nothing this family hadn't seen. "Hey," he called quietly to get her attention and motioned with his head to the area everyone was congregating. He didn't smile, greet her with enthusiasm, or even ask for any information on her part. It wasn't in him to be social. But he would at least give her the option of not feeling quite so lost.

Not knowing if she followed or not, Nero stepped into the den to find the Fickleberry family and two other kids hanging about. There were a few places to sit and while most were couches or loveseats, he took a chair. This was his passive way of saying, 'keep your distance' to any who might come in and think to sit with him. Reclining back, he took in the area, the hard stare he received from the man of the house making him want to challenge his authority. Knowing better than to antagonize, however, he instead focused on whatever it was that the girl was doing with the paper. He was mildly curious as to what sort of thing she was sketching, but no where near enough to admit to her or even himself to focus on it for too long. Eventually, he sat back with his eyes closed, waiting for this to get over with so he could get back to the room.

---

---

Lainey finished the sketch and gently nudged Eric to see it. She looked up when she heard someone walk in the door, and saw The tall tattooed boy who had almost given her up, walk in. He acted like he owned the world, standing tall and proud as he observed the every detail of the worn out room. "Why would anyone be proud to be here,"She thought to herself as he turnedand winked at Alisha. Lainey laughed under her breath, she knew that they wouldn't make a good couple. This boy seemed that he always had something new to say, and she had nothing to say at all"At least he will have plenty of time to talk to himself.."

When she looked back up, she noticed a boy off to the side. He looked displaced and alone, but sometimes snuck a glance at what Lainey was drawing. When Lainey noticed this, she tore out the page of her notebook hesitantly, and wrote Keep it. I'm Lainey. That's Mr. Fickleberry with a small arrow pointing to the below sketch. She folded the paper into four small squares, and wrote Welcome to hell! on the outside. She then passed it to the boy, hoping he would like his welcome gift.

Alisha waited for the others to enter before she herself then stepped into the room. She looked around, everybody seemed to be sitting, watching chatting amongst themselves or passing notes. Alisha distracted herself by turning her attention to the rules which she saw had been pinned up clear for all to see. As she read through them, Alisha picked out a few in particular and read over them again in her mind, 'No swearing in the presence of an elder' - well that would be easy enough for her, but she wondered about a few of the housemates who had a particular mean look to them. No law-breaking in general' again, she thought that would be fine by her, but she had already gather by the cop car that that rule had already been broken.

Alisha nodded to herself and let out an in-audible sigh before she turned back to the others and would see James wink at her, an empty space beside him on one of the chairs. Alisha fidgetted on the spot, looking around the room for anywhere else she would be able to sit - one sofa was taken by Lainey and Eric, a single chair in the corner of the room was occupied by a boy whom she didn't even notice arrive.

There was only one sofa left, three spaces, one for each Miriam, the new girl who she had noticed as she walked in and the boy who she had seen outside in a car. She sighed, and gave up. It wasn't as if she didn't want to sit near James, it was just that he gave her a bad vibe, he seemed the type who had gotten into a lot of trouble to get here. Slowly making her way over to the seat beside James and sitting down, Alisha clutched at her notepad tightly, and turned her attention toward Mr.Fickleberry and his family, awaiting him to speak.

He watched all of them slowly filing into the room, some coming at his summons and others taking their sweet time and making stops elsewhere first. He noticed Clara lingering by the door and motioned her inside as well so that she may take a seat. "Welcome, Ms. Wayden. Please put your cigarette away and take a seat. You are just in time." Looking over the group, the older man noticed that there were still some that had not arrived and he would need to repeat himself. A slight frown appeared on his otherwise expressionless face. He hated repeating himself.

Focusing instead on the present, his expression reverted to an even demeanor looked at each child as he spoke. "Welcome to Fickleberry Manor. I am Mr. Fickleberry and behind me is my wife, Mrs. Fickleberry, and daughter, Hailey Fickleberry. Each of you know why you are here, and if you are of the minority who does not know, I can describe exactly the circumstances leading up to your attendance. House rules are posted here in the den. You will also find a chore board with assignments for each one of you. Check it before beginning work. Now, we come to assignments."

Here he paused as he pulled out a cork board and set it next to the house rules. There were chores upon the board ranging from grooming the horses and cleaning the stalls to repairing the fences and painting the barn. In his left hand were a number of index cards and in his right were a container holding several thumb tacks. Already, he knew what tasks he would be assigning to each child, based on what he had seen so far, as well as the reports he had received. Everything was taken with a grain of salt, however, and he based most of his judgements on his own personal impressions of each person.

"Before we share the tasks, let us first have introductions. A name is all that is needed, but if you wish to put anything else forth, feel free to." Again, his eyes traveled the group, boring into each of them before moving on to the next. His expression said he could see right into their souls. He had not mentioned the jabs at himself, nor the note he saw being passed between two of the children. Demeaning them further wouldn't straighten some of them out, but true hard work and respect might. For the others, well, not everyone was meant to be saved.

Nero tried and had apparently failed to seem disinterested in everything. He blamed his curiosity, but wouldn't take out his own self-loathing on this girl who seemed to just try to be nice. As he watched her fold up and write on her note, his face scrunched up in disgust. There was something crusted all along the girl's arm and it looked a lot like blood. To himself, he shook his head. Shit happened, he didn't judge, but that was no excuse for being an idiot and leaving the cuts unclean to get infection. He knew first hand that any open wound needed to be cleaned and covered or it could have some seriously shit side effects.

What surprised him, however, was that she was passing her note to him. Hesitantly, he took it, refusing to meet her eye as he sat back in his spot and placed it in his hoodie pocket. The boy was shy. He'd deny it up and down, blame his anti-social behavior for his lack of contact; and while that was true, partially, he was also an inherently shy kid. Still, his curiosity got the better of him again and he looked over at the note, rolling his eyes at the front message. This was far from his personal hell, an entire country and ocean away. Still, unfolding the note, he read its contents, a small quirk of a smile crossing his face at the image. It was pretty good, better than anything he could do, and she caught the look of cold steel in his eyes perfectly. He looked up and caught her eye, giving a nod and sticking it in his pocket again.

His face once more resembled a frown as Mr. Fickleberry began to speak. He imagined that there would be chores along with the rules. Why else send them to a farm? He just wanted to know what they were doing for work, he didn't care about introductions, but he may as well get it over with. With an audible sigh, he stood, his eyes flitting around the room quickly, assessing the biggest threats before speaking.

"Nero."

That was it, his name and nothing more. He sat back down and stared at the floor visibly, but keeping his peripheral vision his main focus to be sure nothing and no one would approach unwanted. He shifted slightly, but otherwise made no motion. He had said his piece.

James sat and stared into space, doing his best to catch some of what Mr. Fickleberry was saying. He came back into himself as the boy in the corner chair announced his name.

"Nero" he said boringly, as though there was nothing else to him but his name.

All eyes were on James, and, of course, he took this opportunity to crack a joke.

"The names Kirk, and I'm the captain of the Starship Enterprise." He said jokingly. Mr. Fickleberry didn't seem to find it funny, as he sent him a glare that would've cut through diamonds.

"all right, all right. My name's James. I'm here because I got hammered in public." He said, sounding somewhat defeated.

All eyes passed to Alisha. He felt bad for her, and whispered to her. "Do you want me to introduce you?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Breaking and entering, criminal trespassing, criminal mischief , evading the law, possession of weapons , underaged drinking, and jaywalking. " Eric said looking at the group, Mr fickleberry in particular to let him understand what he was dealing with. He spoke it in a report like manner trying to show not brag. " Least that's by my count, Officially I am just Eric Laudati. Thank you for opening your home to us sir." He looked around at the other faces to guess what there were thinking.


(ooc: short post is short, forgive me)