Run With Scissors

It’s the year 2056, a time where technology has nearly tripled in the past 30 years. Energy is used in the form of nuclear power, the immense radiation safely contained by large plants located on nearly every section of the continent that was formally North America. Over time since the year 1996, a large increase of population flooded the World, causing an increasing worry on the subject of relocation. Funded by the Government, a fairly new company dubbed “DOOR” (Domestic Opportunities for the Oppressed to Relocate) set out into space in search of the ‘perfect plant’. Within 3 years of searching, it was possible to survive on a nameless planet in 2031. At first it was a subtle procedure, but soon entire colonies shipped off to the new planet (eventually titled “Laius”), leaving the Earth to remain a dirty, unattended shell. It was not long before the nuclear plants were left to run by themselves, as it was believed the energy was efficient enough to go without supervision. They were wrong.

In the year 2032 there was a massive explosion caused by one of the plant’s malfunction. Nuclear energy swept across the land, causing a domino reaction that, in turn, led to the letelete and utter destruction of Earth. When investigation was possible, it was found that every form of life was abnormally mutated or dead. Plant life ceased to exist, as well as all sources of food and water. Disturbed by their own carelessness, and already using all resources on Laius, the human race dedicated their time to reshaping Earth to return as it used to be. This was no easy task, and now that a small number of refugees have been permanently placed on Earth, a slow reflection of society is recovering. Trust in nuclear energy is slowly returning, along with a few new inventions to ease the pressure on the Earth’s condition. Cliches and normal human antics are on the rise, offering comfort to those thatr onr one day there will be total annihilation.

Sam has lived on Laius for his entire life, raised under the hope that he may meet his Father when he grows up. Unknown to him, his Father has died of natural causes on the planet Earth. Devastated by the news, he reaches the age 19 as a sulky, sensitive boy who is confused on whom he wants to be as a man. He is a pupil at the Dolore academy, but as his grades slip due to his growing depression after his Mother’s death, he is suspended from his classes. He decides there is nothing for him on Laius and moves down to Earth to make something of himself among the strong opportunities in the increasing population. Unable to afford the necessary rations and unemployed, Sam sets out on the streets, attempting to find a means to get by. He spends many of his nights out on the street, receiving small handouts in order to eat. Eventually he becomes desperate enough to experiment with prostitution, and becomes trapped under the influential and deadly leadership of Rimiko Azure. At this point he is used cruelly by both men and woman, and, unable to escape, he lingers on the gesture of suicide. After many failed attempts he gives up and begins to hang around bars in hopes of finding customers.

He eventually meets Tai Revinchi, a rough housing drunk who comes on a little too strongly for Sam’s liking. Sam, though used by men, refuses to admit he is gay, and thus his sexuality is turned more towards woman than the same sex. Sam keeps coming to the bar, trading small conversations with Tai, until he is able to accept the man’s offer for pleasure. However, Tai refuses him, and this strikes a nerve in Sam. So with the chase on, Sam tags behind Tai, determined to discover this man’s reasons. Unknown to him, he is steadily uncovering his own personality, and begins to rescue himself from a life of complete hopelessness. Can Tai manage to keep Sam out of trouble and still manage to ignore the love that is starting to surface for him as well?

Chapter 1 [Are You Listening?]
Setting: Laius, Sector 72; Dolore Academy


Sam sighed impatiently as his pencil formed a shape on the assignment in front of him, the charcoal smearing against the cheaply recycled paper. He wasn’t really paying attention to what he was drawing since he knew he wasn’t supposed to be drawing in the first place. A lot of the time he excused his behavior if he could manage to remain only halfway attentive to what he was doing, as though he was trying to blame his subconscious on his bad manners. It really didn’t manner what he was doing: drawing, belching, lying…it was all one in the same. If you were going to do something that was obviously wrong, then you might as well look the other way when you do it. He had tried this theory on his teachers more than once, but each time raised eyebrows and an angry signature on a detention slip effectively countered it.

It wasn’t his fault that everyone had such closed minds.

He was located somewhere between a dream and a shallow slumber when his instructor completed scaling the stairs to his desk and clapped her hands together in front of his face. Startled, his hand twitched and his pencil’s lead snapped under the sudden pressure, the black triangle flitting off toward a fellow student’s desk. It went unnoticed of course, even after it bounced off of an athlete’s acne-riddled forehead and fell uselessly to the floor. Sam’s eyes narrowed with justified anger, the accenting red around his naturally green stare illustrating his bad mood. The teacher was not intimated; as a matter of fact the sulky display seemed to stir an unusual strength in the petite woman. She was mousy, not even 5’2, and had glasses that were thick enough to serve as kaleidoscopes. Many boys Sam’s sage found her to be attractive if not beaut bac back in her prime, but now that she had aged a few years the gray curls and wrinkles that attraction was a faint and comical memory. But as she neared her retiring check it was obvious that she was growing a pair of big hairy balls and wasn’t having the least bit of trouble disciplining her students.

After she clapped her hands she stuck one finger in Sam’s face and shook it, nearly taking out his right eye in the process. Weary of her for the first time since he starting taking the first class, his cold stare flickered and shaped into an uncertain gaze, reflecting his rigid expression from her spectacles as she leaned into his face. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, bombarding him with the old smell of peppermint and cigarette smoke to such a volume that he choked and was forced to clasp a hand over his mouth and nose to evade the scent. This infuriated her even more, so she stepped back from him and commenced trying to humiliate him in front of his classmates, who each stared with mixed feelings of pity, confusion, and surprise.

“ Mr. Samuel,” she began, her voice annoyingly loud and disapproving, “ have you any idea why you even bother coming to class?” She only gave him half a moment to think about what she had said before she continued, counting on her fingers with each complaint. “ You sleep through lectures, turn in homework late if at all, doodle on your tests, refuse to participate in group assignments, sass your superiors, and ploud oud music all night in your dorm! It’s no wonder that you’re a failing nobody!” A smirk had grown on her ruby painted lips in the statements, but it faded when he smiled softly and tucked his hands in his pockets, offering no replies. There was a hush-hush among the spectators, some of them throwing glances to one another and shrugging their shoulders to exaggerate their stupor.

The teacher closed her fists, taking a deep breath the wafted the scent of cigarette smoke stronger into Sam’s face. He did not dare to inhale, contemplatihe rhe rumors of second-hand smoking and deciding it was safer to just not let the fumes invade his body. Provoked by his aloofness to a degree that made her arms shake, she reached forward and grasped the collar of his shirt, tugging him into her close proximity. His eyes were at first wide, almost expecting her to tangle him in a gross kiss when her nose brushed the top of his lip, but instead she smiled a smile that was dripping with pending fury and whispered, “ Are you listening to me?”

He thought for a moment, then calmly he lifted his slender hands to her own. She stared at them, suspecting him of possessing a weapon, and then his fingers ducked onto hers and swiftly removed her grip on his shirt. He pulled away, holding her trembling digits daintily within his before he discarding them in a disdained flick of his wrists, returning the appendages to his empty pockets as he shrugged. Puffing a lock of brunette away from his gaze, he stared at her curiously and then whispered (just as softly as she had before), “ That shade of lipstick you’re wearing makes you look like a whore. Rub it off and maybe I could stand to pay attention to you.”

The opinion struck the instructor with such force that she took two full steps backward, grasping a hand over her heart as her mouth dropped agape. In unison with her, all the students who had heard him mimicked the gesture and the class fell into an ill atmosphere of silence. There was a storm brewing outside, baiting the scene with the typical illusion of darkness and a sense of sinister actions, but there was no rain. Finally a rolling moan of thunder treated the room to a breaking sound, and a trickle of water ran down the tinted glass on the window. The teacher escaped her deafness and allowed a thin sound of insult to pilfer her gritted teeth.

Then she slapped him, and the sound caused the class to erupt into a fit of unbelieving laugher.

[Author] Hiya again ^_^ I decided that writing stories based on a series that was already created had too many restrictions and boundaries on it for me to write freely so...meet my new project! I hope everyone enjoys this story o.x I\'ve recently become slightly \"obsessed\" with yaoi relationships so I thought I\'d try to write about one myself! As always, please let me know of any suggestions/comments about it![End Author]