Moving in to 409

Strutting down the hall in semi-high heels came Carrietta White, her dress flowing freely behind her and her black hair bouncing around her shoulders. The tall girl's suitcase followed her until they came to a stop. 409. She flicked open an envelope, drew out a key and inserted it in the keyhole. After twisting it a little a click echoed and she let the door swing back on it's hinges. Not bothering to see if anyone was in, Carrie walked in and sat on the nearest free bed. "Mattress could be softer..." She said quietly before heaving her baggage onto the springy mattress and popped it open.

After ten minutes she had finally unpacked all her clothing - too many to count short dresses, shorts, skinny jeans, strappy tops, long-sleeves and cropped tops. Many of which were black - and flopped back on the bed, smoothing the short at the front dress around her thighs before drawing her macbook out of her duffel bag and firing it up. "Danisnotonfire..." Carrie murmured, typing the word into Youtube and kicking back on her new bed, immersed in the handsome British boy's Existential Crisis video.

"Oh. Oh. Oh no."
Zach stepped in front of the doorway, looking in.
He checked his little paper slip again.
Autumn dorms. 409. There was no error at play.
"I have to share a dorm with you?"
He chucked both of his knives into the opposite wall, marking his side of the room.
"This is gonna be my side. Nothing crosses this line."
"The line" of which he spoke was shortly made from some of his life juices, forming a gross reddish rectangle around him and his bed, to which he had walked.
"We have an understanding?"

Oh great. I have to share a room with knife-boy.

"Well, fancy seeing you here, Zachary." Carrie murmured, glancing up from the video she was intensely watching. "I have no intention to come over your side." She raised her eyebrows, studying his shoulders. "Shoulders still hurt?"

OOC: Short? Yes, very so.

"Awesome! And no, you completely destroyed the nerves. You monster."
Zach took some candy out of his pockets, and threw them across the room so they bounced off Carrie's head.
"Eat 'em, so there's no hard feelings. Personally, I don't want to share a room with someone I might feel like smothering with a pillow if I start sleepwalking. Or give you any ideas."
Munching on his candy, Zach put up a few comical posters of people in casts of increasing size and complexity.
"Personally, the faster we're all square, the better. Last thing I need is a longer criminal record. Or, knowing you, a slit jugular."

A relatively chubby cat that was otherwise CLEARLY a stray pranced through the door clean through Zach's blood lines. It gave a quick, flat cough before hopping up on his bed.
"You're adorable. I'm gonna name you Aneurysm!"Zach started petting the cat. Aneurysm coughed another flat cough. He didn't sound sick, just like he was clearing his throat, as if he was about to give a speech. I mean, in theory, Aneurysm could give a speech, but he doesn't have anything meaningful to say.

Flinching at the candy thrown at her head, Carrie stared at the wrapped hard-boiled sweet as if bounced on her keyboard, pausing the Existential Crisis video. "Eh, don't worry about me killing you, but you wouldn't dare try and smother me in my sleep, Ill probably throw your body out of a window then roll over, still dreaming about Dan Howell." She smirked and unwrapped the candy before popping it in her mouth. "Aneurysm?" She echoed, casting her glance to the, what looked like a, stray cat. "Really? I'm glad I didn't have a father like you, otherwise I would end up with a name like Aspergillosis." The black haired girl rolled her eyes and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then hitting the space bar to resume to YouTube video.

"I fail to see the problem." Zach continued petting his new pet of dubious health and innocence.
Aneurysm gave a meow that sounded suspiciously like the word "Indeed", and then coughed again.
"Eat the damned candy. I stole it from some kid on the way here, and for once, I did it without hurting anybody, so I'd appreciate a little recognition for the lack of psychopathy that's being demonstrated on this side of the room."
Good god, I need an intervention, He thought as he took out a small notebook labeled "For the psychiatrist's eyes only, shrapnel abounds!" from the stack of three books he had with him on heading to his dorm post-library.

The telekinetic scoffed and rolled her eyes which were still examining the fit English boy on the screen. "For once? What, does hurting people make you happy?" The explosion appeared on the screen and the video finished, leaving Carrie sucking on a sweet in her cheek. She then turned her head and closed the laptop, swivelling round on her butt to face her room-mate. "Seriously though, for once? I'm beginning to grow suspicions that I am sharing a room, in which we both sleep, with a psychotic serial-killing knife addict." The ball of sugar grew to the size of a pea, and Carietta crunched on it, satisfied with the way it crumbled under the pressure applied by her molars.

"Ha. Ha ha. Maybe if my power didn't involve sacrificing the oil of the robot, the petroleum of the car, the sunlight of the plant, and the blood of ME! My ability to hurt other people is an exponential decay function, and at a certain point, my ability to hurt people starts hittin' FRACTIONS! I'm fond of my limbs, and I like to keep my extremities attached. I'd prefer most or all of my bones attached. As long as my capacity to hurt other people is disproportionately linked to my own injuries, it's going to be a bridge too far for murder. The knives are..."Therapy". If you choose to believe the word of doctors who are so conservative they make Richard Hooker proud, that is."
Winded by the speech, practiced and perfected from having been asked this question before, he quit petting his wonderfully uninvolved cat, which promptly walked into the doorway and then sat back down seemingly to achieve a more complete view.
"I don't. Not when my hemoglobin chews holes in the floor. Giving me the option to hurt myself just screams "I'm making a statement." That bastard therapist won't be rid of Zach that easily. And nor will you. Since that is the case, any violence that starts now is only going to escalate until both of us die, not from killing each other, but from starvation when we both refuse to leave for fear of letting the other out of our sight. Burying the knives in the wall and the candy should be a good start. Aneurysm, come back over here. I need to figure out what breed you are, so I know what food to buy. Unless YOU'RE willing to starve. But that'd be weird."
Zach lazily opened the other two books, skimming through names in what were essentially two yellowpages.

Toralei Anne Silver strode into the room, not even glancing at the other two. Throwing her luggage onto the bed, she quickly unpacked all of her clothes and books. After a few minutes, she pulled out her laptop and scanned through her email. Not finding any new or important messages, she brought up her YouTube tab and shoved her headphones on her head. After logging in, she typed in one of her favorite songs. Listening to the intro, she went to Google and brought up a Hetalia character. She cooed softly, and the best part of the song came on. "Say you want me, say you need me, tear my heart out slow and sleepy..." she murmured. Only then did she look up and see she was not alone. Her face reddened slightly and she went back to her laptop. "Hi.." she muttered, warily glancing up at the knives stuck in the wall.

Ignoring part of Zachary's speech, Carrie had re-opened YouTube and had moved on to AmazingPhil, the love of her life, bae no.1, part of her OTP. She giggled as he told his Optician Horror Story and her dark eyes glittered with amusement. Then, after the video finished, she heard footsteps and she craned her neck to see a new girl enter the room. "Oh, hey there." The teen greeted, hiding her laughter as the girl sang a few words from a song. "I'm Carrie, Carietta White. Aaand that's Zach. Don't mind the knives, he won't hurt you unless you enter his side of the room." As she introduced their roomie, Carietta gestured with her hand at the psychotic boy on his bed with a cat.

Toralei laughed and nodded, raising her eyebrows at the boy with the cat. She turned her music off and looked up. "Hey, I met you in the lounge, right?" she asked curiously.

After thinking about what she said, Carrie narrowed her eyes and examined her acquaintance. "Oh yeah." She murmured before straitening up again. "Well, seems like we are room mates now!" The teen chirped happily. "I'm just thinking about all the late nights we'll have...I think all three of us are going to become great friends!" She tried her best to not sound cheesy, but it was inevitable.

A grin grew on the teen's face and she nodded. After thinking, she narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "Who do you think will be our last roommate?" She asked.

Pausing the video again to think, Carrie shrugged. "I don't know many people here in BA anyway." The teen turned back to her Dorm mate with a quizzical look on her pale face. "I never caught your name..."

"I don't either. I only know a newer girl, Spectra Evermoore. Anyway, I'm Toralei Anne Silver." she replied, pushing a lock of jet black hair out of her face. Her black eyes flashed, and she tilted her head, going back to google. "Harry Potter fanfiction......" she murmured softly, so only she-or so she thought- could hear. She'd taked a liking to the three friends and company. Clicking on a link, she smiled and turned to YouTube. "Now, how about we go....hmm....a song from...." She paused, thinking. Typing in her song after a few minutes, she grinned and turned the volume up louder. After continuing her story, her favorite part of the song was on and she closed her eyes and subconsciously started murmuring the words. "One...girls......trouble...look.....double..." was all that anyone could hear. The real lyrics were, 'One of those girls, nothin' but trouble, just one look, now you're seeing double,'