(Indeed. Respond to my random.)

Frain has come out from under his bed. He's currently seated on his bed, daydreaming.

Curice wanders to the room and watches him, amused.

Frain doesn't appear to see him, so he doesn't flee. Instead, he hums quietly.

Curice doesn't go in, instead he just stands in the doorway, quietly. He watches to see if Frain notices him.

Frain doesn't notice him. Boredly, he glances at a glass of water that's setting on his nightstand. He raises an arm and points at it. The water inside jumps and turns to ice.

Curice watches curiously. He tilts his head a bit.

Frain melts it back into water, and freezes it again. Melt, freeze, melt, freeze...over and over again. He seemed to be bored.

"Having fun?" Curice's voice is quiet, and amused.

Frain jumps, looking like his heart might stop. All the water spills out from the glass, accidentally. He looks like he wants to flee, but he stays put, shoulders up to his chin.

"Don't worry. I'm harmless. Unless I have orders other wise or I'm really angry. But mainly when I have orders. And my orders are to be nice." Curice flashes a cute grin.

Frain just sits there, obviously not used to talking to other males. He only has his sisters.

"I'm Curice. What's your name?" He doesn't venture any farther into the room, but leans against the doorjamb.

"Frain..."

His voice is soft, hesitant.

Curice does some half-assed attempt at a bow. "Pleased to meet you. So what do you like to do?"

"Read..."

He seemed terribly uncomfortable.

Flamaja appears out of nowhere. "Icey. Stop bothering people, damn it." Curice jumps about a foot in the air. "I'm talking, not bothering. And don't do that."

Frain stays put. He still hasn't turned around to face them.

"Have you learned anything of use?" Flamaja pokes Curice as she says this. "Kinda. Our ideas of useful are different. You try talking to him. You'll get answers 'stead of just bugging mee." Curice twitches at the poke.

Frain played with a loose shoelace of his, listening to them warily.

Flamaja glances at Frain. "Hello. I'm Flamaja. Feel free to call me Maja, or just Maj." She grins as she says this.

"Frain..." The boy repeats, eyes on his feet. He doesn't seem to be that into talking...

"How old are you? I'm sixteen and my brother's twelve." "I'm thirteen, Maja. Stop forgetting that..."

"Fourteen..." He looks about eleven or twelve, though. His eyes were wide and childlike.

Flamaja tries to think of more friednly things to ask, and Curice just watches them.