Steven
It was a bit strange to admit that he'd already lost track of time.
Days and nights blended together, but not in the monotonous thread of his life previous. Each day brought something new, new faces, new information, new locations, new challenges...
*What's the saying?*
*'Time flies when you're having fun?'*

It was a phenomenon he wasn't quick to relate to himself, and even now had some hesitation towards. 
Being in a government-assigned institution wasn't really textbook 'fun.'
But it was fresh. A break in the mold. 
This was something that was becoming more and more welcome with each hour.

He'd wandered back into the common room, a place that had become an ironically frequent spot for the boy. People filtered in and out all the time, and his eyes, hungry to watch, always enjoyed being in the space. Having observations practically placed in front of him, wrapped with a bow. 
Today, however, he'd chosen to stimulate a different sense.

He'd sat himself down on one of the many couches scattered around the place, opting for one tucked in a far corner of the room.
He didn't have much with him; always travelling light. He had, in his pocket, a dingy, small phone with the screen protector scuffed up... As much as it COULD be considered 'scuffed' instead of 'broken.' He had an equally worn pair of white, seemingly uncomfortable earbuds, lodged deep in his ears.
And a notebook. As usual.

That really isn't entirely accurate; he had TWO notebooks. He had one in his breast pocket, practically untouched and ready to receive more words on its pages.
The one in his hand was a bit more sensitive. 
Chock-full of reconstruction notes, mostly notes on things he'd done since his arrival, with a few outlying entries from beforehand.
Through his headphones, a steady stream of quiet White Noise was churning through the wires.
His version of meditation. Look over words with static in the background. 
A very safe space for him. Nobody could break his focus if they tried.
Almost.

He sat, slightly hunched over, looking over everything, closing his eyes from time to time to really, TRULY immerse himself. 
Whether he was lost in his own world or lost in someone else's, it didn't matter. He was deep in a universe far from this one.

God only knows what could dare pull him back.
Joy
Ares hadn't done much other than the usual. His days had been rather unproductive, and the boy liked it that way. He liked doing *Nothing* Of importance, being a general nuisance, and acting on his whims without much second thought. It was a refreshing break— to really not have to be so pent up about everything. 
*Who knew constantly needing to walk on hot coals back home would be so tiring.* 

Towards the common room the boy went, looking for something he could steal from the fridge. 

There was not much on his mind, until he saw someone he recognized. Sitting tucked away on one of the common room chairs was Anthony. The little nerd with his precious notebook pinched between his hands. Ares wondered why it was so important— what content it held to keep his gaze so harshly glued to its pages. He looked mechanic, similarly to the last time he had seen him. 

The boy was clearly distracted, and with his back turned to Ares there was no way he'd notice him. 

For a moment, Ares considered leaving him alone. He thought about shrugging his shoulders, grabbing what he wanted and going back to his dorm... *But where was the fun in that.* 

Instead, Ares moved directly behind Anthony. His looming figure casted a shadow that blocked out the overhead light. 

Then he slammed his hands down onto the smaller boys shoulders. 

*"Boo!"* 
Ares said with a quick crack, like that of a firework, directly over the other's head.
Steven
Anthony was normally a very perceptive creature. Nothing could phase him when he was properly regulated, scanning the room, or his conversation partner, or whatever the world had placed in front of him. You could scream at the top of your LUNGS and the most you would get out of him would be a small flinch. He was impossible to scare.
...
When he was so separated from this mortal coil, however, THAT was a different story. 
One might even argue he was MORE susceptible to the average 'spook,' with his mind so many steps behind his body.

As such, Ares' surprise attack got him. Good.
Embarrassingly, Anthony *Yelped*, like a scared puppy. He jumped, clearly not expecting the force that Ares was, with his notebook flying out of his hands. He scrambled to catch it (and succeeded), snapping it shut as fast as he could.
He placed one hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat out of his chest as he slightly heaved, regaining his breath.
**"Oh my god..."** He said, reveling in the shock.

One earbud had fallen from his ear in the scuffle, and he delicately removed the other once he'd become a bit more grounded. He looked straight up, only to find Ares' toothy grin staring him back down.
**"H—Hello, Ares."** He said, with a bit of air still behind his voice.

His eyes shook, only slightly, as he shoved the wires into his pocket alongside the phone they were coming from, sure to become tangled within minutes.
**"Is there anything I can, uh..."** He paused to take another short breath. **...Do for you?"** A weak smile crossed his lips.

God, there was no recovering from this. He'd never live this down. 
But, in a way, there was a sense of... Normalcy about this. Friendship. Were him and Ares friends? Already?
*Friends scare each other like this.*
*No, no, scratch that.*
*We're acquaintances. That's all it is. Has to be.* 
*Holy hell, we're already acquaintances.*

He continued to look up at Ares, fidgeting with the precious notebook that had so narrowly avoided getting away from him.
Any time with Ares was sure to be time well spent, he'd realized.
Always more to learn.
Joy
Ares immediately cackled his typical laugh at the others reaction, but it wasn't malicious or mocking. It was simply a result of the boy finding this all so entertaining. It lasted for a decent amount of time. 
"*My bad,* I couldn't help myself—" He said through a snicker. 

With a deep breath, he calmed his laughter. A playful smirk remained pulled up on his lips. 

The next few words from the other made Ares roll his eyes in a dramatic, lighthearted sense. 

"God! You're so professional!" 
He drew out the last syllable into a long groan, while rolling his head back like this entire thing was draining his energy. Then, he pulled his gaze forward as his eyes rested on the one in front of him. 
There was an idea behind the amber. 

With one quick motion, Ares threw himself over the back of the chair directly beside Anthony. He landed against the soft cushion, letting his long limbs sprawl out casually. The gesture was clearly easy, it was similar to hopping over a fence. You simply *Swing* Yourself over, and pray your grip is firm. 
The taller boy propped his arms up behind his head as he settled into his seat. 

"*What can I do for you,*" Ares repeated in an uptight tone, "You make this sound like a business deal." 
He laughed. 

"Simply bored. That's all. Got a problem?"
He didn't sound angry, but that sentence was always rather argumentative in nature. 

The soft smile on his face though, was reassuring enough he enjoyed the company enough to prefer it over whatever else he had planned.
Steven
Ares' cackling made him smile. Genuine and soft. An air of bliss and slight... Excitement, maybe filled his lungs.
Hope. That's the word. 
There's hope. Hope that this going to go somewhere good. That he could get to know Ares beyond just psychoanalyzation. That he could know him as a person.
Maybe, just maybe, as a friend.

His next statement wasn't false. He WAS professional. Always. 24/7, 365 days a year. Like a lightswitch that was stuck in one spot. You just couldn't turn it off. He was conditioned to be so, and said conditioning had molded with his personality in what felt like no time at all. 
'Professional' and 'Anthony' just so happened to be synonymous. 
He looked away from him, nervously, still smiling. It was a happy kind of nervous. The good kind. 
You knew you were being teased, but you also knew they didn't mean it. Double entendre. A word, phrase, or idea with two meanings.
This was great.

When Ares flopped beside him, he did anything but object. 
He wanted, with everything in him, to tease back. Unfortunately, that wasn't something that came very naturally to him. No matter how calm and suave he sounded in his head, very little would translate over. 
The laughter came naturally, though.

A soft, tinkling sound, akin to windchimes. 
It was more authentic than Anthony ever saw himself being. And he couldn't really believe it.
**"No, aha.. No problems."** He was still a bit jittery from the scare he'd undergone, looking at him with those big brown eyes.
Eyes that filled, almost to the brim, with light.
**"I hope I can cure your boredom."** He spoke with emotion, even if it wasn't more than a small handful.
It wasn't flat. These were steps.

What WAS it about Ares, about the Cradle *Itself* That pulled him out so much? 
*This kind of expedited personality development should take months — YEARS, even.* 
*Whatever it is, I don't mind it.*
*It's nice to feel like this.*
*It's nice to feel at all.*

He fiddled with the pen that was still in his hand, the pen that managed to survive the earthquake that was the previously occurring jump.
Even as comfortable as he was, only those two sentences slipped out. He just watched. Happier, but still watching.

Guess there's still a learning curve.
Joy
Anthony kind of reminded Ares of the freshman he'd see in the hallways back in his old school. Jittery, nervous, on edge, specifically around someone like Ares. They'd jump out of the way, dodging any perceived threat, protecting their skin from scarred hands. Yet, despite what Ares was reminded of, he was proven wrong. Here Anthony was, completely still, maybe even leaning slightly towards him. 
His expression curious. 
*Icarus and the sun.*

"Cool." Ares smirked. Of course there was no problems. No one ever had problems with Ares. Well, that was a complete lie— but if people like Anthony *Did* Have problems, rarely ever did they say anything. 

Ares scoffed a disbelieving sort of laugh. 
*Cure my boredom. You could live a thousand lifetimes, and you'd never do enough to satisfy my thirst and my hunger.*
"I mean— you've done something already I guess. Your face when I scared you was *Priceless,* Instant entertainment."
The boy shrugged with a smile. 

"So. Whatcha doin?"
Steven
On the contrary, Ares reminded him of all too many things to put into coherent thoughts, let alone into words. 
Ares was fire, obviously. Burning and bright, calling all attention to it without so much as trying. 
Ares was a stereotype. A misunderstood highschool bully, someone with no way to satisfy the time on their hands. Someone whose story would rarely ever be told.
Ares was a reminder. A ringing voice in one's head, an earworm that wouldn't leave.
Ares was this. Ares was that. Ares could be so much more.

*I've peeked inside your head once.*
*I can't bring myself to stop.*

For the time being, there WEREN'T any problems, yes. Things were... Nice. 
But Ares was wrong to assume that 'people like him' wouldn't voice their concerns, though, right?
Well, maybe he WOULDN'T *Voice* His concerns. Anthony has a roundabout way of showing stuff like that. 
Of showing anything at all.

His laugh filled his thoughts with question after question.
Disbelief hidden amongst the confidence. Two emotions that battled for dominance. The confidence was WINNING, of course, but that's not to discount the loser. He noticed.
And he proceeded to wonder. In complete silence. His thoughts too crammed to make heads or tails of.

He gave a small smile when he was regarded as entertaining. 
*But that's not enough, is it?*
*How much will it take for you to say it's enough?*
*What's your quota? Your limit?*
*Do you have one?*

**"Glad to hear it, I suppose."**
He started to tuck his notebook away into his breast pocket when he was asked what he was doing.
*Well? Are you going to answer him?*
*It's an exercise in trust, Anthony.*

He was working on reconstruction notes. Memorization. That's the honest truth.
He could lie. He really could.
He didn't... WANT to lie to Ares, though. He wanted to be better than that with him. 
*Well?*

He sighed, stopping himself.
*An exercise. In. Trust.*
He grabbed the notebook and pulled it back into view. 
**"Ability stuff."** Was all that he said at first. All he intended to say.
**"I'm memorizing."** Treading too close, too close, saying too MUCH.
**"It makes the process easier."** 

*That's it, right?*
*Don't jeopardize your secrecy.* 
*Don't.*

He sighed. Deeply. In and out.
Holding out the notebook. Tentative and cautious.
**"You can look. If you want to."**

Maybe this WAS like Icarus and the sun. 
He was GOING to get burned.
It was just a matter of figuring out how irreparable the damage was.
Joy
As Anthony pulled out his notebook, Ares tilted his head slightly to the side. 
More notes. More information. More details. More memorization. When did each word become code, when did each letter become binary, at what point does it become a ritual. A necessity. Was this a crutch? He knew some other people that collected information like it would build the pillars of their stability. 
*Sand pillars.* It'll all crumble to dust. The ever shifting growth of knowledge is no certain foundation. Ares had learned that. You can't rely on anything in the past to build your future. 

"Memorizing what? You got some puzzle or pattern you gotta figure out, Sherlock?" 
The disconnect between his mind and his mouth remained vast. 

The words said next were immediately taken, and understood. This kid was strangely trusting— or perhaps was it Ares putting him at ease? *Strange.* Ares never put strangers at ease. 

"Sure, if you're offering." 
The boy looked over and held out his scarred hand. 
"Promise I'll be nice with it."
Steven
Oh, Ares.
You're thinking about this all wrong. 
It doesn't BECOME a ritual, no, *It's always been that way*. The status quo. A way of life. The words contained in that notebook and various others were only the tip of his iceberg, the beginning of the complex way he conducted himself. A pursuit of knowledge was the only way he knew how.
Calling it a 'sand pillar' was a bold, and frankly inaccurately claim. 
He wasn't stuck in the past. He was learning from it.
Those who do not overanalyze history are doomed to repeat it.

His face twitched up in a slight smile when he was given such a nickname. Just a twitch, before it fell into a more wistful, serious expression.
*Oh my god. I'm actually doing this.*

Strangely trusting indeed. This was FAR outside his comfort zone. 
Anthony Solace was not a talker. Anthony did not trust people with his personal affairs. He did not give people any leeway, no matter what.
This was *Odd*. Almost like it wasn't him at all.
Maybe it was some... Twisted rebellion, he guessed. The station would never allow this. 
The person he was before he crossed the Newton's Cradle threshold wouldn't have allowed it either.
Maybe this was just growth. Growing into a more... Stable person. Somebody who could even pass as normal.
No, that wasn't right either. This wasn't an easily describable feeling. 
He'd have to do some writing on this part of the process, too. 
He was never exempt from his own scrutinization. 

He paused with the notebook in his hand, like he was suddenly thinking back on his choice.
*No. No hesitation.*
*You've dug this grave, now lie in it.*
He suddenly quickly passed it over to Ares, perhaps just so he wouldn't have to mull it over anymore.

If Ares were to study the outside of the notebook, he'd find a black, hardcover, pocket-sized thing, with the words '*Newton's Cradle: 3*' written on a a small notecard and taped securely to the front. 
If Ares were to study the inside of the notebook, his findings would be a bit more complex.

Unfinished entries on every person Anthony had met thus far would litter the inside, all written in his naturally italicized handwriting. Something you had to squint at.
*Finley Carlisle.*
*Owen (?).*
*Uriel (?).*
A few scattered others, some pages more portrait than description. 
*Ares (?).*

His page(s) were far more packed, detailing extra notes from his time reconstructing his psyche.
Inner thoughts from his conversation.
*Are you regretting it yet?* He thought to himself.
*Oh, how you should be.*

Everything was impeccably detailed, almost to a scary extent.
One sentence was bolded at the bottom of the last page:
*Learn more.*

In the meantime, Anthony hid his nervousness about such a thing, and he hid it well. Appearing completely and utterly calm.
He was watching Ares' reaction as he read it.
Scanning for any kind of change.

Waiting to see what he would do next.
Joy
Ares grabbed the notebook in his hand, the foreign object looking rather different in his than Anyhony's, propping it open by the spine. Keen eyes scanned each page, and he was especially drawn to the names. The record under his own name was particularly detailed. 

The typical notes: aggressive, reckless, intimidating, *Bully.* Yet, there was more alongside the initial read most people left it at— *'a sense of empathy and care under his shell.'* 
A smile spread its way over his face, yet his brows were furrowed still. It was kind of the look Ares' own older brother would give him anytime he handed in one of those *'I look up to my older brother,'* Essays. It was a soft look, almost embarrassment, but one that spoke to an appreciation. 
This kid had seen him *Once* And he was already understanding him better than some people who had known him for years. 

This could absolutely be because Ares himself was different now. He wasn't nearly as angry all the time, not nearly as aggressive. He'd met people that meant something to him, that made him put down his sword and drop the armour. This kid was lucky to meet Ares at this point. Otherwise, and this Ares was certain of, this interaction would've gone differently. Poorly.

"I'm honoured to read about your interest in me." Ares was being sarcastic, teasing. "Yknow, if you wanna start an Ares fan club I totally agree you should—" 
He laughed. 

With a small motion, he closed the book and handed it back to Anthony. 

"Glad to see you've also met my boyfriend and my best friend." He said with a slightly tilted head. 
He was giving up more information, obvious information at that, but still they were notes. Connections. 
_ _

The note of *'learn more,'* Stuck with Ares particularly. Someone wasn't warning themselves to stay away from him. He wasn't a walking hazard sign anymore. 

Then, Ares stood up with a stretch, and looked back towards Anthony. 

"I'm gonna make coffee, did ya want anything?" He paused. "Oh, perhaps you can ask me more questions for your *Records* While I do so, if you so please." 
He gave a bow, and played up some sort of fancy accent near the end— like some servant and a royal. He then laughed, dismissing the playful gesture.