Kendall loved to put people in a spot, seizing opportunities and even making things happen to the right people at the right place and the right time. He had little patience for the game of dominoes, where a multitude of tiles are arranged standing in long lines, and a light tap of the first would result in the falling motion of the rest, right until the very end. The longer the line, the more that was arranged, the more beautiful the game, the more beautiful the fall. Kendall remembered how he would stand and watch impatiently as his grandfather patiently arranged them in snaking roles, in the ballroom of the Rookwood Manor. Too often, Kendall had yawned and shuffled restlessly while he waited to see the beauty of the game. Even then, the older Rookwood had chided the young boy for his impatience, teaching him that great things relied on great arrangements, that time was precious for arrangement, and that time was essential for a creation that was worthy to be appreciated. Kendall, at that time, was more interested in darts. He would stay in bed, lazy to be roused from his position of sleep, but have the energy to pick up the darts at his bedside, to aim and shoot them to the board at the wall at the opposite end of his bedroom. Every dart only took a couple of seconds to fulfil its projectile, to strike at Kendall's target. It was calculated, but it was quick. At a young age, the boy was already prone to impatience, choosing instant gratification of his actions (even with the necessary calculations), rather than to have a prolonged period of deliberation before watching the fall of something (because waiting was just too much, sometimes).
Only through the years, and with some level of maturity, did Kendall begin to value the lesson that his grandfather's game of dominoes taught. Too often, though, he still chose his game of darts. This time, however, the game played right into his hands. Rise played right into his hands, and some strange forces were aiding him. Kendall eyed the expression on Rise face as soon as Mandy left the Bathroom, amused at what he found there. As it is, he already liked to throw people into situations they did not expect to find themselves in. By some strange fate, though, Rise had thrown herself into this without any of his schemes or even expectation. He was just as surprise to see her, as she was to see him. Still, he was better with dealing with this. The expression on her face was extremely worth enjoying. Kendall, full of himself, knew (or at least he expected) that he was a sight to be appreciated. He stood where he was, as if on display, not rushing to retrieve what Mandy had torn away from him. He had caught Rise's eyes darting swiftly away from him to the ground, with embarrassment written all over her face. Kendall licked his lips, and grinned. And then she began to apologise profusely, of which Kendall began to stare at her in amusement. That was, until tears began to roll down Rise's cheeks. Quickly, Kendall altered the expression on his face, hoping that despite the moment of entertainment, he could still put on the mask of concern. What, really, was this strange were-girl thinking in her mind? Why the need for the tears? But she soon explained herself, and at the same time, she raised him to such an importance, in her words.
Kendall looked at her, surprise even in himself, at the influence she seemed to be suggesting that he was having on her. She wanted to smile more because he had said, lied, that he liked it. She had said that she wanted to smile to make him happy. Oh, the irony, he thought. Then, of course, she mentioned his touch, which seemed to have left a lasting impression on her. Kendall was mildly surprised. His influence on Rise was effected easily, it seemed. And yet, she did not seem like the kind to be affected by any random person. Somehow, whatever buttons of hers that he had toyed with were clearly the ones he had to continue to explore. Kendall wondered about the girl's character. Was this how werewolves were like? He wasn't sure. After all, he knew very little about them. All he knew was what happened to them, and how they could be made to harm others. Those were the more interesting aspects of them. After all, it was not as if one wanted to befriend a werewolf properly. They were not human. They were tainted. They were almost as bad as mudbloods. Yet, Kendall could be hypocritical. He was disgusted at mudbloods, but it was not as if he did not touch one before, nor did he never bedded one before. He was not sufficiently stringent to stay away. He wanted to play with them, like one does with ants on the floor, taking a lighter to burn parts of them, leaving them in agony, yet not ending their lives, and watching their mates scramble around them, frantic and confused. How powerful he had felt, at the age of five, looking at insects tortured, with him being the torturer. He was merely upgrading to human toys now. How fun. He was going to involve himself in a greater extent, he could see it now. He was going to pain himself in the process, as if by putting himself into the equation, Kendall could hurt the trust he had forged, even more. How fun.
"Riseeeee," he began, loudly. Kendall shook his head, slowly. "I let Mandy go, for your company. And now, you're choosing to leave me here, alone?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I can't say I'm very happy with that." Then he shrugged. "Well, do as you will. If you leave, I'll just stay here and ... get lost in my head. It does get painful sometimes, doesn't it? Life?" She looked distraught. Kendall was merely hoping that Rise could find something in his words or gestures, to relate to, enough to make her stay. He had ideas already, in his mind. If she stayed ... Kendall walked to the stall that he was previously in, and waited just outside of it, leaning a little at the side of the door. Then, he looked at the girl, expectantly.