The Dreamer And The Worker

Lerice is a realist.

She is someone who see things as they are in life and understands what can and cannot be done, that conviction alone won't change shit. She doesn't believe in 'what could be's, just 'what is'. She's pragmatic and logical, and has the constitution and the unwavering belief that reality is an absolute power no one can break, that the course of their life is set, and all any of them can do is follow the current and hope to break the surface before they drown.

Cilix, on the other hand, is so achingly idealistic. He has these dreams and ideals about the future. No structured plans, just a path, a really vague path and a goal.

Lerice was six when she stopped believing in dreams.

But the thing is, Cilix has a way of saying things that sways people into action. He dreams, he envisions. And when he speak - so earnest and genuine - you can see so clearly, believe as fervently that you can almost feel it, and wonder how you ever thought there was any way it could happen differently.

Lerice is one of the many people who heard him, and one of the few who listened. And up to this day, she still can't decide whether or not she made the right decision.

She often wonders if maybe she absorbed it only by sheer proximity.

"Make yourself at home." Shaun deadpanned after Cilix opened the door with his own finger print on the scanner and entered without further ado. He may act irritated, but Lerice can see the fondness and the beginnings of a smile on his face.

"You're the one who let him key in his biometrics." Castiel simply said.

They all entered what could only be called the receiving area. Lerice is by all means not new to luxury, but even she can appreciate the cool gray of the walls with hard black borders along the floor-line and eggshell white moulding of the ceiling. It was sparsely decorated with modest, tasteful furniture. It was a sunken living room two steps down with a black fur carpet and ash gray leather couches and white throw pillows, there is a flat screen tv mounted on the far wall directly opposite the front door situated in between two floor to ceiling windows overseeing the view of the school grounds currently covered with thick off white curtains. To the right was a hallway with two doors that could only be Shaun's bedroom and the bathroom, then to the left separated by a sleek marble counter top island with four stools is the kitchen.

Shaun's family came from old money, so Lerice wasn't the least bit surprised by the sheer lavishness his father can afford him, her own rooms just a floor bellow is only a tad smaller than this. But it doesn't have a fucking chandelier with a million and one teardrop crystals hanging from the ceiling thanks so very much.

"Nice." Was the ever eloquent comment of one Sienna Marquiz, wide eyes drawn to said chandelier.

"I bet you that shiny thing costs more than our whole apartment, furniture and all." Oleah told her, jumping from the back of the couch and bouncing a bit. "Reckon I can sneak it out the building and sell it in the black market?"

"We can plan your heist later Oleah," Shaun only laughed, far too used to Oleah's unique sense of humor. "you guys want anything? Drinks?"

He headed for the kitchen as the rest followed Cilix and Oleah in the living room, settling themselves on the couches as Cilix mess with the tv, putting on some movie as background noise.

As they each settled down with drinks and some snacks Shaun prepared, Lerice's mind wander to Oleah.

Oleah Vanderbilt, eight grade Aurora, currently number five in their year's overall ranking. She's crass and rude, doesn't have a filter. If she doesn't like you, she'll have no trouble telling that to your face no matter who you are. She once told Shaun's father how ugly his mustache is, Lerice is pretty certain that's when Shaun decided they're going to be good friends.

Lerice also got the distinct impression that she's holding back on her skills. But for what reason, she could only hope to guess. Oleah's not exactly the easiest person to read, her face is always so blank Lerice sometimes wonders if she's even capable of other emotion aside from her trademark deadpan look. Even her eyes betrays nothing. She has the eyes of someone who's seen too much, the very same ones who stare back at Lerice whenever she looked at a mirror.

"So what did daddy dearest say? Spill it Shaun, yer killing me here." Axton broke the comfortable silence as soon as Shaun plopped himself down on the carpet in front of Cilix, chewing on some candies.

Everyone's attention turned to Shaun as he sat up straight, "So I heard my father."

"You really love saying that phrase, don't you?" Cilix jabbed his foot on Shaun's back as the later shrugged and threw a pink candy thing on Cilix's head.

Lerice isn't exactly the friendliest of people, being who she is, she have no aspirations of having many friends. It's a far-flung idea, almost like a dream, only, she's not a dreamer.

So she wonders how she ended up in a fancy room eating rainbow candies like a child with seven other people, committing what could only be borderline treason by listening to Shaun's ridiculous speculations. But hey, beggars can't be choosers. It's either them or the Lysanders.

The Lysanders are a clan of dragon tamers who hailed from the mountains of Betelgeuse, a close family friend of the Maoris. Their twin heir, Emil and Mimosa Lysander, are both stupid mutts who can't tell right from left. She shivered lightly at the memory of her father introducing them, they only grunt at her while shaking her hand with their sweaty palms. Disgusting.

Following orders, specially ones from her family, is literally drilled on Lerice's mind since she knew how to say 'yes, father'. Decisions were made for her, her whole life laid before her eyes with nothing else to do but follow through. But being friends with people who can't offer more than three words for conversation is just too much. She fears she'll fry her brains off if she hang around them.

Axton looked at her with a raised brow, probably feeling her shiver beside him. She just bumped their shoulders and offered him a smile.

She liked her current company anyway.

A half dozen pillows pelted themselves their way, courtesy of their wind weaver friend, "Can you two stop making dewy eyes with each other? Some of us are single."

Maybe like is an overstatement.

"What're ye talkin about Con? Ye make dewy eyes jus fine even without a boyfriend."

A snort was forced out of Lerice for Axton's retaliation, floating the pillows and throwing them back at Con. Lerice ogled her boyfriend's laughing face for a moment, no doubt making the 'dewy eyed' look again. The way the light from the crystals of the chandelier reflect off him make the gold flecks in his hazel eyes all the more visible, the Aquarius constellation tattoo behind his ear in clear show due to his undercut. So the chandelier do have some use after all.

"Stop throwing those pillows, you're not children!" That made Con stop, but Axton continued launching pillows after pillows enforced with strong winds at him that ended up knocking him on Castiel, who's trying to stop them.

"It's called a throw pillow for a reason, Castiel!"

And now Cilix, Shaun, and Sienna too have joined the impromptu pillow fight. Even Oleah joined, bypassing the pillows and instead firing those candies at their heads with deadly accuracy. Completely forgetting the very reason they were there in the first place.

Okay, so maybe she did have friends. Stupidity notwithstanding.