Welcome to Gaia! ::

Gene makes his way quietly through the halls to his next class. He hopes to get there early, as he usually does, and hide away. As often as not he could go unnoticed if he just never moved. Gene was practically a room fixture. He was startled by a low growling sound that came from his own being at that thought and he immediately quieted himself. I am a rational being. He silently reminds himself. I am in no way an animal. To believe that I am is to make myself deluded or a liar. Gene released the breath he was holding in a sigh, then slipped into the classroom and occupied a seat in the furthest corner.

Gene noted that someone had sat next to him. Unexpected, but not a problem. The other boy seemed engrossed in writing down something. No, come to think of it, he did not seem to be writing at all... Gene kept looking straight ahead, hands folded upon his desk. A room fixture was not curious when someone sat next to it. But Gene was not a room fixture and he was curious, despite his best efforts. He allowed himself to turn his head toward the budding artist. Gene even leaned over, just a bit, to see what was being drawn.

Gene did not smile. Not because he intended to be rude or unfriendly; it just never occurred to him that perhaps he ought to. He was still stuck in the moment of being denied a view of the book. It only made him more curious. But what could he really do about that? Maybe if he moved around the desk... or he could take the book... if he were fast enough- That was where Gene forcibly put the brakes to his train of thought. He was being ridiculous. He was not that curious and he did not need to know. So Gene looked straight forward again, the only change from previously being the light drumming of his fingertips on the desk. He did not even seem to notice it.

"Well known?" Gene repeats, his eyes turning back to the boy and his sketch book. Should Gene know him? He did not really socialize, so he did not really know anyone. He certainly could not understand why there was such hostility all of a sudden. Gene shrugged very slightly. "Yes. I want to see it. I will not die if I do not. Do as you like." Gene took out a notebook and pen to calmly begin making notes on the class. He did have to pay attention, after all. It would be irrational for his parents to send him to school and not expect him to do well. He did not care for the results of irrational behavior on his part.

Gene gives a puzzled look to his side and is surprised to realize the boy is completely serious. "Those actions are illogical. The book is useless to me and you will show me nothing if I offend you." Gene stated in a matter of fact tone. Gene was not even remotely popular, for that matter. Nor was he really unpopular. One needed some amount of notoriety to be either. Gene was a shadow on the wall; he usually went beneath the radar. Besides, being noticed had never had good results. He was small of stature and apparently, according to the few that spoke to him, he was weird. Gene would be glad not to see the inside of another trashcan or locker for as long as he lived. Gene only belatedly noticed he could now see the book. Curiosity returning full blast he looked over... and was entirely surprised to see the sketch in progress. So much so that he touched his own face as if to verify that was what he saw.
((Edited a bit more in))

"My friend?" Even in his state of shock, that word friend drew his attention. He had no friends, but that was not hard to do when no one showed an interest. He'd never actually had to turn down a friendship before. But what good would he be to any friend? He kept to himself and avoided speaking very much because he was still deathly afraid he'd be tempted to talk about... a very irrational thing. Well, there was no harm in trying it, was there? Most likely the artist would become bored or annoyed with Gene all on his own long before Gene had to worry about saying anything he ought not to. This time a faint smile does tug at Gene's lips. "My name is Gene. We ought to know names if we are friends now."

Holding the books that he'd picked up from the floor, Connor inclined his head in greeting. "I'm Connor." Pausing and nodding his greeting in turn to both Elaine and Alice, he shrugged. I wonder what my next class is. Taking a few moments to think, he vaguely remembered. "I think I have math as well. Not sure though." An eyebrow rose curiously, and he turned his attention to Alice. "Do you need help carrying books to your class?" His gentlemenly upbringing overcame him once again.