There was thing Casimir hardly did and that was to play football. He hated football and he sucked at it. In Montreal he realised how people were obsessed with the sport and how they watched every match. It seemed that Casimir wouldn't care less. But one way wonder,why exactly was this chocolate-eyed adolescent on the field, in a bright sunny day with a foot ball? Casimir himself didn't quite know. To be frank, he was bored and needed some sort of entertainment. Many things had happened since Casimir had returned; he had nearly had sex with Starling in the toilet and she had somewhat displayed her devoted love to him- which was quite inconvenient as he still hadn't sorted out the Scarlette situation- and Jason had practically died. Too many things had happened and well, football at this moment, seemed to be a type of therapy.

So, with a cigarette between his lips, he was kicking around the ball aimlessly. Thinking about the ever-so confusing current situation.

Dexter was listening to The Kills on his I phone whilst walking past a field where a boy was kicking a foot ball. He did not have much money but he had got it in Japan so it was actually cheap. He was over the traumas of the recent past and was going back to the door where he would claps onto his bed and listen to the random music really loud.
His classes were going bad and he was having a hard time in general, he was pissed off because he had got an F on an English essay.
Then he recognized the boy it was that bastard Casimir from the Jason escapade, he really hated that kid.
Dexter couldn't be bothered to do anything about it though he was just going to stay out of the way, so he marched on. Still feeling angry and frustrated with his life.

Casimir was in his dream world. A world which he would retreat in and brood in moment like this. The football just helped to convey his anger. At this very moment he was thinking about what he had done to poor Scarlette. He had been such a cruel bastard. He had told her how he didn't love her. He was practically lying to himself. He had indeed loved her when he had dumped her. Of course he had. But he had dumped her for one of his stupid theories, his stupid moralities. During that era, he had been quite depressed- he had just come out of his blindness and his mother had just died. He was in such a terrible state he had resorted to drugs and alcohol. So, when he dumped Scarlette it had been because he didn't want to drag her down the abyssal turmoil he was heading. But, now come to think of it, she would have probably saved him. She didn't care. She loved him. And he didn't love her.

Oh, yes, don't forget that his best mate had been stabbed to death. Another thing on his already troubled mind.

Finishing the cigarette, he tossed it on the ground carelessly, before he took out another one and slipped it between his lips. Yes, he was clean of all other poisonous drugs. But smoking he had not been able to quit. Looking up for a moment, he saw how some one else was there. Narrowing his eyes, he realised how he recognized the vague silhouette of the boy. It was Dexter. He didn't particularly like the boy. They really hadn't gotten off on the right foot, let us say. Smirking rather darkly, Casimir looked at the football. An idea came into his head; what if he hit him? He surely doubted he would hit him; Dexter was quite far after all and Casimir had crap aim. But, worth a try, no?

So placing the ball in front of him, he took a deep breath and kicked it with all his force and before he knew it, it slammed against Dexter's face. His eyes widened urgently as he turned his back to him, cursing under his breath.

"Shit. That wasn't meant to happen," he muttered to himself, hastily.

Right, now he was surely going to get into a fight.

Dexter was just listening to the climax of the song a hardcore guitar solo when he lost all orientation. Dexter had been totally oblivious to the ball that had been cannoned at him, the music had drowned his hearing and his eyes had been fixed on the floor. then smack right in the face knocking his head phones out of his ears.
"Feck" he exclaimed in pain and confusion as he rubbed his face to take out the sting then looked down to see a football. he didn't catch on to what had happened but then he realized and turned to look at where Casimir was. The bastard was standing there with his back to him looking very nervous.
Dexter couldn't believe what he had done, in his current temper he started to stride across the field to Casimir, he wasn't going to let this go.

"What the fecks wrong with you man." he yelled at him. He wasn't shore what he was going to do yet but he was at least going to get a bit of payback.

They hadn't got of to a very good start and it didn't look like it was going to get any better.

Then a thought came to him he was loosing his way he was corrupt he had learned so much with the monks and he was letting it all go to waste. He had to be merciful don't use force unless necessary.

Well maybe by bending the rules he would get that anyway. "Whats wrong with you gay boy you missing you boyfriend?" Dexter shouted as he approached Casimir with a tormenting tone.

Casimir's eyes widened. How in God's name did her know? His eyes flickered to and fro, as he searched for an answer to his question that tugged his mind urgently. He was obviously talking about Jason, there was no doubt about that. But how did he know that he had kissed him? Then it came to him and his head shot up, a little sly grin curled on his lips. He must have been there at the airport when he was leaving for Montreal. There was no other explanation.

"What did you just call me, freak?" he said and turned around. They were about the same height, so Dexter was hardly intimidating. His eyes narrowed, a wild spark lighting up. He then raised his fist and punched him straight on the jaw. He never punched anyone. It wasn't really how he counted people he hated. No, he preferred to verbally abuse them. He had made countless people cry and storm off. He liked seeing their faces. However Dexter had said something so infuriating, Casimir just had to ask like a man for once in his life. "Get it right; i'm not gay, I'm bi sexual!" he said in his in a cold, callous way, a disdainful, cruel smirk on his face.

Dexter took the punch, he could have stopped it a in infant different ways and returned a shot that would have knocked the idiot down into a coma. But he decided to take the strike fell its glorious pain and absorb it so when he did strike it would be worth it.

Casimir was no challenge to him he could thrash him within an inch of his life an make him scream with pain without any real effort. but for know a battle of verbal would do him, "Is that the best kiss you've got weirdo?" Dexter smirked back and got intimidatingly close to Casimir's face with his own.

Dexter was becoming more calm more focused, he was steadying and transforming into a combat mode where he could do anything he wanted.

Casimir chuckled darkly under his breath and then took a step closer before kissing Dexter firmly on the lips and then stepping away, his back to him. The kiss meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. it was just to prove some ridiculous point. "There you go. You asked for it," he muttered and started to walk away. He had finished his cigarette and took out another one, putting it firmly between his lips. He kicked the ball and it bounced off the tree and into the near by forest.

Dexter stood parallelized after the shock of the unexpected kiss from Casimir. He felt sick and polluted as though this was the stage before he would be raped by the creep that was walking away.
Dexter whipped his lips clean and starred at the boys back this wasn't over he had done the unexpected but he would pay for it.
"What the fuck's wrong with you, you cant just do that to people." Dexter spoke cold but loud so he would be heard. Dexter strode up to Casimir "You have no dignity do you and so you have to build up your own ego by being a dick head to everyone else." Dexter shouted this time with a bit more energy as anger covered him.
"Do you know what really pisses me off? I tried to help you. Your confused really confused, your more fucked up than an emo." Dexter spat the words with disgust.

"Don't you think I already know that!" he yelled at him, his eyes wide. "Don't you think I already know I'm the most fucked up person in this school! You have no idea what I've been through, mate. There is a reason why I'm so screwed up, you know." His voice dropped down into a low mumble. Yes, there were many reasons indeed. he could probably list them all.
a) He was neglected all his childhood and his father beat him.
b ) He was blinded by fire.
c) His mother died
d) Caspian died
e) Jason is probably dying
f) He's taken every drug and alcohol in existance.
g) He's got a substance-abuse problem.

There were probably more things. But it was just too depressing to even think about it. He hated himself for then ever.
"You have no idea what I've been through. you have no idea who i am," he muttered. "And for dignity. I did have some. But I think now it's all gone, crushed by people and myself. As for the ego, I don't think i have much of an ego and if I do it's the only thing preventing me from collapsing. If you had gone through the same thing as me, trust me, you'd be in the same state as I am."

Dexter couldn't stand to here the twit blab on about how awful his life was as though he had it really bad as though the whole world was against him.
"Oh, shut up, don't you think those are rather large words form some one with shush low ego. You don't have a clue what bad is, you have screwed up your own life, anything thats wrong with you is your fault. And as for me maybe I don't know anything about you, but you don't know any thing about me ether, so don't you dare start judging me."
Dexter shouted the whole speech out, with extraordinary calm and he was rather pleased with what he had said, it was the truth and there was no way of getting round it.

It wasn't like Casimir was the only one with a tough life Dexter?s wasn't all sunshine and flowers ether, he had killed his parents in a fire and had been scared for it, was because of this afraid of the slightest flame, had spent plenty of his youth hood in a monastery was know living on the other side of the world to where he had grown up and had recently come to this school where his future was going down the drain. But he wasn't complaining about it and he wasn't destroying himself although he often felt like it and he tried to make the best out of what he had.

Casimir chuckled grimly. "You're actually rather amusing," he said darkly, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Actually, it's not my fault I'm so screwed up. It's my parents. It's really there fault come to think of it." he didn't want to get into detail. it was furthermore depressing. He didn't even feel like talking about his messed up life. However what the depressing thing was, was that the more he talked about, the more he realised how fucked up his life had been.

Sighing, he looked back up at Dexter. "Sorry for hiting the football in your face. i didn't mean it. Oh and sorry for snogging you. I didn't mean that anyway," he muttered in a low, grim tone.

Dexter doubted the apology was genuine but he would take it for now, as it seemed his words had gotten through to him or at least calmed the situation down. As for Casimir blaming his parents, Dexter had no idea whether it was true.
"If only I could blame my parents for my life." Dexter mumbled in a mournful tone which was supposed to be comforting but was not. Dexter could not blame his parents most of his problems he had brought about himself add a lot of bad luck.
"What did your parents do to screw up your life?" Dexter asked dryly, although he was actually interested in whether Casimir was wright in blaming them, or whether he was just some emo wanker. Dexter wasn't expecting to get a reply, he wouldn't give one if he was asked the question. But again his urge to know about things drove him to ask.

"My parents?" Casimir said rhetorically raising his eyebrows at Dexter. He then looked away, looked into the forest, his eyes resting on the discarded football. "They physically and sexually abused me," he muttered and then before Dexter could reply Casimir was ahead and in the forest picking up the football. He wondered if Dexter would understand what he meant. He surely would. it wasn't that hard. His father used to beat him and then lure him into dark corner and do terribly and perverse thing to him. His mother just neglected to feed him and pay attention to him.

Ok now Dexter had to admit that was pretty bad if it were true, which judging from the stat this fuck up was in was quite possible.
"Do you want know what I did to my parents?" Dexter asked rhetorically because he was going to tell Casimir anyway, he was sick of holding back the dark secret that ate him from the inside out. "I killed them." Dexter shouted at Casimir's back as tears began to pour down his face. The air had got colder and dark gray clouds had flooded the sky.
He had only been a stupid kid playing with matches and he had ruined his life.

Casimir stopped for a moment and considered the matter. yes indeed that was pretty bad. Probably as bad what his parents had done to him. however in Dexter's case it had been quite the other way around. He stopped, his shoulder slunched as he looked forward. Taking a deep breath, he then sighed. "I'm so sorry, Dexter," he said simply and then walked off into the forest to get the ball, before returning again, the ball in his hand as he then sat on a log and considered the matter he was stuck in thoroughly.

Dexter plunged his headphones back in his ears and started to walk back to the dorm, he was satisfied and capable of leaving the whole matter at that. The sweet sound of a screaming lunatic entered his ears, he really didn't know why he had System of a down on he didn't really like them much.
He turned his back on the pitiful sack of shit that was sitting on a log all on his lonesome with his fucking foot ball that had started the whole encounter.
Dexter paused, no he couldn't leave this guy had to be sorted out, for the good of every one. Quick as a flash Dexter darted back and with a semi clenched fist connected a devastatingly powerful punch into Casimir's face.

Casimir didn't see Dexter coming. He was already deep in the forest looking for the ball. However, when he did turn around he felt powerful thing hit his face. Great. Dexter's fist. That made it all the better. His nose suddenly hurt like hell as bloody started gushing out. Great. Now Dexter had broken his nose. "You fool! You fucking idiot!" he screamed as he dropped the ball and cradled his nose.

"Ha!" Dexter chuckled with joy upon seeing Casimir in such pain and distress. It was strange to be violent for no apparent reason, strange but fun.
After a moment Dexter decided to keep his humor up he should punch hem again. So he did, this time a strike to the stomach.

(( Bit violent today, matt? :P))

Casimir jerked violently, blood still pouring out of his nose. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't breathe. Karma was finally kicking in the form of this guy named Dexter. He felt himself crumple. But he didn't cry, he held back and swallowed the tears. He suddenly felt blood in his mouth and he coughed violently, spitting out blood. This somtimes happened. He knew it was wrong; they were blood in his lungs. But he didn't care. He was fine really. Coughing again, he looked back at Dexter and smiled, amused. "You're pathetic," he whispered hoarsly and spat right in his face.

Dexter stood over Casimir with a mad grin of pleasure. His eyes were wide and mad, he gave a sharp hysterical chuckle and whipped the bloody spit of his face.
"Yes I am pathetic, I guess thats another thing we have in common." Dexter's face suddenly darkened the grin vanished and his glare was concentrated hatred, hatred for himself.