Birth of a Loud

"Lincoln, welcome to your new home!"

"Oh, t-thank you." The white haired boy meekly entered his latest domicile, wary if everything appears as it seems to be.

"Well, sorry we have to leave you here on such short notice, but we have to go and pick up all the girls so that they can meet you too." Mr. Loud proudly proclaimed, excited to introduce everyone.

"Yes sir! I'll try and be on my best behavior. Umm... where do I stay? The basement? That garage off to the side?"

Mrs. Loud gave a soft chuckle, much to Lincoln's dismay. He returned the sentiment with a frown.

"Oh, i'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to laugh at you like that. We know about the rather, how can I say, rotten situations you've been put in, and we assure you nothing like that will happen here. We prepared a small room for you up the stairs and to your right at the very end of the hall. It's a bit snug, but you'll be the only one that doesn't have to share."

He blinked at the thought of having his own room. But just before he was able to ask any further questions, the couple had to rush out of there post haste. They made sure to keep the boy at ease with a 'We love you!', trying to reiterate their signs of warm affection before driving off in their vanzilla.

"'I love you.' Heh. Hasn't been the first time i've heard that." The young lad couldn't afford to let such petty words get to his heart. Not yet at least. This house seemed rather bigger than anywhere else he'd been, with all of the silence adding on to it. To his left, there was a rather impressive looking tv, with a nice little couch and remote to match. "I can't remember the last time I watched any television without having to be huddled around the set." He reached for the remote, before wincing away from it, rubbing his hand. "N-no, I can't. I really don't want any more lashes."

His safest bet, decidedly, was to just go to his room and be quiet until they return. "Heh, let me guess, they rolled out the fine print for me to sleep on since I'm such an 'esteemed guest'. I can probably laugh myself to sleep on yesterday's funny papers." But he couldn't keep up his smug bravado for long, as genuine fear began to build up, growing higher and higher with each step up the staircase. Was there really no one else here?

After reaching the top step, a quick look to the right shows a door at the end of the hall. "Guess that's where i'm staying." Scanning the rest of the floor, there appears to be five other rooms, with a bathroom at the other end of the hall, identifiable only because the door was slightly ajar revealing tile floor and what could only be a tub. "Wait, they said I'm the only one not sharing a room. How many kids do they already have?" And audible gulp vocalizes his dread. Not just a group of kids, but a rather large group.

Putting those thoughts aside, he makes the short walk over to his door and slowly turns the knob. He's greeted by an empty looking bedroom that's no bigger than a nice sized closet, with some shelves, a dresser, and a nice sized bed with a clean sheets.

"My own bed?" He wanted to feel the softness, and melt into it with even the slightest touch, but couldn't bring himself to do it. "I'm sure they'd probably be really angry if I messed up this nice looking bed. I mean, I just got here! Is it really just for me?" He looked at the rather tacky "display clothes" the orphanage usually gave all deportees. Before giving it much thought, Lincoln lowered himself to lay on the (relatively) soft floor, before the embrace of sleep betrayed him, smothering the wounded boy with nightmares aplenty.

An hour passes, and the boy begins to stirr from his slumber. He never slept well, as shown in the bags under hs eyes. "Urgghh, I think I slept longer than I thought. My head..." There's the sound of movement from downstairs. "Intruders? In this neighborhood? I should know better than to sleep like that. I can't let my guard down for a second." Using his developed skills, made an effort to open his room door as quietly as possible. Peeking around the corner at the stairs, Lincoln scanned around to look for the would be assailants.

"Heh, I bet they're probably some serial robbers looking for loot in a nice house like this. Or maybe it's Jim. Wouldn't be surprised if he tried looking for me so soon. And they're in numbers too." It was the time for action. Sliding down the railing, the hoodlum was ready to pounce on whatever fool was dumb enough to come here unwarranted on his watch.

"I've got you now, you...! G-girls?" A group of ten girls poured through the door, wondering who was making so much noice. The launch was a clear 10/10, but the dismount needed some work. Colliding with not some would be burgler, but the side of the doorway, collapsing with a thud. "uggh..." Second blackout, now with a black eye thrown into the mix. He awoke with a bag of green peas over the healing bruise.

"Hey kid." It wasn't the mom, so the closest guess was the oldest kid. That flippant adittude and distant gaze was a tip off. "Maybe next time you shouldn't literally go off the rails and bump into something."

"Who does she think she is." Lincoln thought.

"Well, if you must know, I'm your new big sister. Welcome to the family, twerp. Dinner's in the kitchen. We managed to save something for you." Without even breaking eye contact with her phone, she walks away, making faces at whoever's on the other side of her frequent texts. More emotion than she'd shown the newcomer, anyhow.

"You could have at least given me your name..." With his head dulled from the bag of peas combined with the throbbing of his head, he had no energy to get mad.

Darkness blotted out what all you used to be able to see out the front windows. Lincoln slipped off the couch and proceeded towards the kitchen to look at the plate left for him. Out of habit, he took it as it is and ate it with no complaints. "Say, did chicken always taste this good? It's still cold, but I don't ever remember my taste buds picking up on something like this." With a finished plate and whatever remaining dishes washed, the young lad sat at the table to plan his next move. "So, what's their deal? None of the other families ever let me rest this long. Are they gonna make me do extra work in the morning? That's probably it." He slammed his fist into his palm. "I'll just have to be ready for when it happens. Not like I was planning to sleep anyway. I don't even know what they did with bun-bun..." And then his heart sank.

"T-they wouldn't..." And then his mind raced. The all too familiar sound of tearing fabric and stuffing flooded his eardrums. But there was no trying to push the issue. He'd already learned the hard way of trying to wake anyone. But the unease burrowed deep inside the young man's psyche. Not a single nerve in his body would stay still. Sleep was the enemy, and it wasn't too unusual for him to sleep lightly, if at all. The pitter patter of pacing lingered in the air as night turned to day. The white haired boy sat at the table, tapping his fingers against the surface, with but a few winks under his belt, if at that.

"Oh! You must be... Landon!" A slow turn, and a quick jolt from Lincoln. He rubbed at his eyes, gazing at the radiant ball of sunshine before him. It was much too bright for his tastes.

"Uhh... my name is Lincoln." He quietly corrected, curious as to how he managed to let his guard down.

"Oh, totes! My bad. Say, you have nice, white hair. It reminds me of Pop-pop." It looked as if she was reaching out to touch it, with Lincoln's reflexes kicking in and swatting her hand away. He gasped, worried that he'd upset her. "Ohhhh, right. I forgot to watch out for your eye. Are you ok?" Bright, but yet so dim. "And you still seem to be wearing those ugly clothes from yesterday. I always wanted to have a male model! Then I can, like, make you new clothes to wear." A buzzing sound comes from nowhere, directed from the purse at her side. She pulls out a phone and reads it for a quick second. "*GASP* That's right." Out of the purse appears a stuffed rabbit. "I forgot all about this cute litte guy, what with his adorable nose and floppy ears."

"UNHAND HIM!" Lincoln exploded, outraged that anyone would dare to touch bun-bun.

"Unhand?" Uh oh. Lincoln cowered, just realizing how big of an outburst he'd made. He was steeling himself for the inevitable fate of landing back in the streets again. And in record time. "I can't take off my hands. I need those! Or can I?" She looked pretty freaked out, tossing bun-bun into the air, only for Lincoln to catch the stuffed animal as the girl runs off. "L-Lori?!" Lori, who's Lori?
He breathes out a quick sigh of relief, glad to be reunited with one of the closest things he has. Dusting the old friend off, he realized there was a new-ness about bun-bun. His clothes were replaced, and he himself restitched. The sew lines were seamless, and the bunny looked good as new. "Did she... for me?"

It had sunk in deep. For the boy, outside of but a few, had never recieved such a kind gesture for near nothing at all. Yet this alone wouldn't be enough to fully open the boy's heart. "How much should I bet she was forced to do it to keep up appearances?" Lincoln gave a small chuckle, but it died down soon after. "Say, what time is it?" He looked all around for a clock, and noticed it was only seven in the morning. It was still relatively quiet, the calm before the storm.

"Looks like you're finally up. Or if my guess is right, you never went to sleep." It was Lori. Lincoln gave a tiny nod, slightly annoyed that now she was up to be just as condiscending as the other night. "You have a bed, you know. If you use that, you'll lose some of the bags in your eyes." She took a quick look at bun-bun in Lincoln's, and then laughed. "Hah! I never would have guessed my morning would start off with Leni trying to ask me if it's possible to detatch her hands." He scowled at her, and then looked away, worried he must've messed something up really bad. "Oh, don't worry about her. She means well, and tends to take things literally. Want any coffee?" The smell of fresh roasted coffee beans began to fill the air.

He had to give some kind of answer. Not too demanding nor too slow to set her off. "U-uh, sure. I could use... caffeine."

"Are you sure about that? Well, if that's what you're used to. Also, you should probably brace yourself." The young boy wondered what she could have possibly meant by that. Was there really a need to warn him of anything?

And then, steps. Aroused by the stimulating aroma of the day's jumpstart, the rest of the loud family begins to pour in. The dragging of feet, groggily muttering amongst themselves, like the casual chatter of birds outside. They began to pour into the kitchen, and begin to do one thing. Go ballistic.

Combined shouts of "He's finally awake!" and phrases about how cute he is pierce the heavens. Overwhelmed, he tries to dart behind Lori for some kind of protection. But to no avail, he was overtaken by the mob.

"Looks like you got a rise and shin-"

"You white hair contrast with my darkness."

"Say, you're a boy, like sports?"

"Oi, you look like a strapping young lad. Where ya from mate?"

The question kept firing out, like a machinegun. It wasn't until Lincoln started to cower from all the loud noises that Lori finally stepped in.

"All right! Everyone back up!" And so they did. Lincoln stared back, amazed by this sudden spark of authority. "You all remember what mom said. He's new here, so we can't just overload him right off the back. Especially after how he hurt himself the other day. You'll all have your chances to get to know him and ask questions, but for now calm it down and have some breakfast."

She stole a glance at him and smirked. "I'm not the oldest for nothing. I help keep these girls in line. You're lucky it wasn't all of them at once. The younger ones are still alseep. They'll get a good look at you later.  Now come on. If you aren't going to sleep anytime soon, you might as well stay for this."

"(Great. She's a dictator as well. Oldest, huh?)" All of the girls gathered around the coffee pot, just waiting to get their fix. Now was Lincoln's time to slip away undetected, sure they'll overlook his disappearance.

"Hey, where are you going?" So close. Caught just as he was turning around, by one of the older loud girls. "Aren't you staying for breakfast? We finally get the chance to talk to our new brother. Sorry to freak you out earlier. I'm Luna, the loud house's rockstar!"

She motioned to play air guitar, which only perplexes Lincoln.

"Hold on Luna, let me break the ice. Hey Lincoln! I'm Luan. I'm the comedian of this family, because i'm the only one with a 'funny bone'. Get it?" The tweeting of birds take over for the crickets.

"Wait, wait. I'm just warming up. I know I like to be in the limelight, center stage. But compared to our new member, and his overly white hair, I 'pale' in comparison. hahahaha."

A resounding "Ugghh." comes from the crowd.

"C-could you not..."

"Hey Lincoln! I see you've probably knicked yourself a couple of times." Luan was taking notice to the couple of visible scratches on the top part of Lincoln's hands. His eys widened and heart began to beat out of his chest.

"I guess you might be a cut above-"

"Luan, cool it!" Lori wasn't particularly pleased at the jabs taking place, even if they weren't meant to be malevolent. But the deed was done. Lincoln began to bring his hands close, trying to cover all the scars. Shakes took over his body, bringing out genuine concern from the girls. He clenched his teeth and tried to steel himself as much as he could.

"I'm sorry that I l-look so funny. I-i'll just go now." That was all he could say before he bolted out of the kitchen to make his way outside. He reaches the living room area before tripping over a circular object. It was a ball that contained Geo the hamster. He got back up as fast as he could, reached the door, and slamed it on his way out. He took a spot up on the side of the house, and gazed at all of his cuts and bruises. A wave of disgust washes over him, wishing he wasn't so damaged. He sticks his arms in his shirt, now tired of looking at the reminders of his very own incompetence.

"FORE!" A solid object whizzed toward him, missing his head by a mere few centimeters. The solid thud caused Lincoln to try and disappeard into his shirt, curling up as much as he could in the hopes that he'd either be overlooked, or whatever was coming would end as soon as possible. "Sorry! I wasn't trying to hit you. But while you're there, up for some rounds of polo? It'll be a great way to help break you into the family." The voice was familiar. Lincoln peeked from the neck of his shirt to glance upon a short figure mounted up a bike, brandishing a croquet mallet. It was one of the sisters from earlier.

Fully emerged from his hiding hole, he looked out to the young sporty girl. She was pointing at something that must've been next to him. It was a baseball. ("This must've been what nearly hit me.") With a slow approach, Lincoln went to pick up the ball with a firm grip. The girl must've noticed a look of confusion from him when she resounded with, "Hey, toss it over to me so the real fun can begin!" The sentiment didn't connect with him initially. She had a wide grin on her face that seemed, more or less, forced.

("The real fun? And what's 'polo'? Something to do with hitting a baseball with a hockey stick? She said she wasn't trying to hit me, but mentioned 'breaking me in'. Even when I'm not the one with the bullseye, I'm target practice regardless. Well, so be it...) His grip grew weak, which matched the limp wristed throw back to her. While the ball took a slow roll towards the front wheel, as Lincoln stared at the ground with a dead look in his eyes, hoping she'd buy this "act" of playing possum and quickly lose interest.

"What are you doing there, looking all sad? Come on!" But the young boy showed no change in his expression, as if showing any sign of a reaction will condemn him to pure torture. A lone hand comes into his field of vision, grabbing at his arm. Suddenly pulled to his feet, she tried to drag him to the front of the house. "If you don't want to play, at least come back in the house! All of the others are still waiting for you after you ran out like that." But Lincoln's head only flooded with thoughts of trying to stuggle away, since nothing good could come from going back in there.

They make it near the porch before neither can move any further because of the protest Lincoln was working up. The girl grabbed him by the collar of his shirt with both hands and comes in close to his face. "Please, just come in! We only wanted to welcome you into the family. We weren't trying to drive you away! Luan has been so devastated, that she refuses to come out of her room. Who knows how long she'll be in there." She gripped at his collar so hard, it began to tear. With the both of them struggling, the neck area tore enough that Lincoln slipped out of his own shirt. He tumbled backward and ate dirt. Coming to his senses, he realized he was in a shaded.

"Lynn what are you doing? And is that Lincoln's shirt?!"

"Huh? Where'd he go?" Lori wasn't having.

"So, after I clearly told everyone to leave him alone and give him so space, you track him down anyway?" Lori looked all over to see if Lincoln was hiding somewhere, but quickly gave up since he couldn't wander off that far, but was clearly in no mood to be discovered.

"I... I just wanted to show him that we're willing to play with him, and get to really know him. I didn't think he'd hate it that much."

"... But that's not the end of it, right."

"I maaaaay have also wanted to drag him in to clear up any misunderstandings with Luan. I thought I could do it, but it didn't really end as planned."

"Well, you sure know how to grab for the nearest opportunity and make a game out of it." Lori utterred with a sigh. "But, you're way too rough when it comes to trying to get someone's attention. We have no idea what he's been through, so all we can really do is wait for when he comes to us." With a guiding arm placed over Lynn's shoulder, Lori guides her into the house. Lincoln heard their steps up above him, and waited for the closing of the front door to breath in the fresh air of relief. "So, I'm under the porch."