bad * / GUY

nothing about this new situation was any ideal.  his life had gone to shit in three days, and NOW he was forced to live in the dorms.  the only bright side was ( to his extent ) his roommate was not one that hated him -- and one of the few people that he didn’t hate in return.  it took two days until tripp could actually bare moving fully into the room, even now he doesn’t truly live there, no, he spends most of his time in his family home.  luckily found right inside the border of halloway.  he was supposed to graduate this year, go pro -- go to the olympics, win a stanley cup.  Now he is stuck here with people he can’t stand and now with a price on his head.  

it was the first time today that tripp had managed to make his way back to his room.  it could be worse -- he could be sharing the tiny apartment with nine other people, but instead he truly only had to deal with one.  it still wasn’t ideal.  in fact, he was hoping she wasn’t there, but it seemed that the universe stopped caring about what he wants.  “how is your stash?  did you end up running dry?” he wasn’t sure what to say to her, they didn’t have too much in common.  and now was not exactly the time for his usual snarky comments.

tripp didn’t want to be around people, he didn’t agree with the way things were being run.  not only this, but there was word that he did something to the kid who was missing.  whispers spoken behind his back, longer glances every time he walked outside.  it made him want to do something he actually regretted -- instead he held himself back ( for now. ) his feet were hanging off the dock in the water.  he looked off at what should’ve been the other town across the way.  now what was left of it was nothing.  it was gone, trees in its place.  he had just gotten up when he had spotted one of the other two suspects -- sylvia preston. not exactly his favourite person, but he could think of worse company at the moment.  “careful now, if we get caught together, people might assume we killed the kid together.” a joke.  ill timed considering the situation they were in. “so, how did you become a suspect?”

tripp:

sylvia.

dani.

dylan.

newt:

eliza.

sophie.

olive.

minnie.

layton.

lloyd.

bella.

maverick.

her nose wrinkled. of course she wasn’t there, but it wasn’t like tripp to know that about her. it wasn’t like tripp to know anything about her. in fact, she was certain the only thing he cared to remember about her was exactly which buttons to push and how to push them. “ yeah. i get that, ” she admitted quietly; after all, she was there to do the same thing. she hated that something she held so dear was something she shared with him. brows knitting together as she looked down at her own bag. she’d picked it up from home on the way over, and she hadn’t missed the way every shop, every house, every building was desolate. they evacuated, she reassured herself, and tried to leave it at that. “ tripp, even if i told you i minded, you wouldn’t leave, so — ” her bag hit a bench with a thud, and she busied her hands in her hair, tying brown waves into a high ponytail. a familiar chill ran down her spine, the ice’s way of welcoming her in from the humid summer air. here, the silence was reassuring. she blinked as the lights flickered, shaking her head as she sat down on the bench and pulled her skates from her bag. her fingers moved quickly, expertly lacing up white boots as she’d done a million times before. “ if you wha— ” she looked up, cut off by the sight of exposed causing her to swallow her words. despite the way she rolled her eyes, her cheeks flushed bright red, and she immediately looked back down to strip the guards off of her blades. “ do what you want, tripp, ” her voice was tired as she stood, taking a few steps over to the ice and sighing, relieved as she glided forward. one push. two. she swiveled, skating backwards and meeting his eye, “ but could you try to do it away from me ? i don’t need to be dodging your puck while i’m out here. ”

"not a party person?" he mused out loud upon seeing her reaction to his statement, a small laugh escaping him. he could see it -- but there was a certain part of him that didn't completely believe her. he's known a couple of people who attended the 2018 olympics and from what tripp as heard -- olympic village was not exactly the most wholesome place in the world. there were a couple reasons that tripp loved being at the rink. it was the one place where he didn't have every issue in the world, his anger was very much gone. all he felt was happy ( well until game time came on, but all of that was much more about his competitive spirit than his anger issues. ) not only that, but the opportunity to see esme. he didn't really see her around town any other time ( perhaps because she seriously was there all the time. it was truly no surprise to him that she had a key to the joint. ) "well, i was here first." he teased with a grin, his eyes watching over her as she put her hair into a ponytail. he shook his head out of the small transce he put himself in watching her. he was here for him, she just happened to be there too. but again his eyes wandered down from his bag over to the other -- just in time to catch her blush at his shirtless figure. a sense of pride ran through him as a smirk appeared on his face. "you seem a bit speechless, there." he pointed out as he threw on an undershirt, followed by a practice jersey. he jumped the counter, grabbing a bucket of pucks, followed by a rental stick they kept. tripp had followed her lead, tying on his own skates-- grabbing his own stick alongside the bucket and extra. "you don't want to play with me? i'll go easy on you." there was a glint in his eye - mischievious, excitement? it was a toss up between the two as he made his entrance onto the ice, holding up the extra stick he had grabbed. he slide it over to her, turning to set up the rest of the ice. "have you played hockey before, or are you just a pretty skater?"

“ of course you were, ” she eyed him cautiously, adjusting the bag on her shoulders. it was second nature. the echo of blades on ice filling the silence of an empty rink was blissful and she craved it. with the hollering and the panic, the laughter and the chaos, she needed a quiet place to grapple with her own thoughts and suspicions, a place away from the smell of booze and the sound of bad music. the rink was home. they should just rename the place, mac. throw your last name up there, people would say upon seeing her there bright and early nearly every day of the week. and they weren’t exactly wrong; she was certain more of her time was spent there than in her own bedroom. she was more herself on the ice than she was anywhere else or with anyone else. her only hesitation, however, towered over her. messy hair and mischievous eyes, clutching a rock. of course tripp had the same thought. she pulled her keys from an outside pocket of the duffle and moved passed him, barely making eye contact. “ shouldn’t you be, i don’t know, partying like it’s the end of the world? ” she knew she couldn’t refuse to let him in behind her; in that case, he’d just use the rock. she huffed as she shoved the entrance open and walked inside, “ that seems like something that would be right up your alley. ”

tripp could only offer the other a smirk with a shrug in response.  at the sight of a key, the rock fell from the boy’s hands as he took a few steps back to collect his own duffle bag.  a collection of hockey pucks, smelly gear, jerseys, back up clothes, and a couple pairs of skates.  a backup pair for the backup.  you could never truly saying that theodore watson came unprepared for anything.  well, perhaps it wasn’t necessarily in the boys original nature.  but years of his father teaching how to be prepared, it was most certainly a learned skill.  pulling the bag up to sit on his shoulders, he only offered a smile to the other as he caught the door behind her, shaking his head gently as he followed her inside. “i don’t see you there, either, sunshine.” he teased. “i just wanted to get some-- frustrations out beforehand.” he wasn’t even sure why he bothered sharing this information with her.  it wasn’t like she asked -- or maybe even cared to hear the answer.  “you don’t mind sharing the ice, right?” it was a question that he didn’t really care to hear the answer for.  he plopped his stuff on a random bench nearby.  he looked around, finding a couple switches he assumed to be the lights -- he played around with them until they adequately lit up.  he then wandered over to the nearest bench, plopping his stuff down -- unzipping his bag. “you don’t mind if i change here?” the question came out teasingly as he took off his shirt.

"chaos isn’t a pit. chaos is a LADDER. many who try to climb it f a i l and never get to try again.  and some, are given a CHANCE to climb.  they refuse, they C L I N G to the realm or the gods or love.  i l l u s i o n s .  only the ladder is real.  the C L I M B is all there is."

there was nobody -- cars on the road, people working in the shops, adults and teens alike; anybody not on those busses. gone. home was not the first place tripp had gone too, no it was the hockey rink.  where else would he have ran to fix his problems?  Thinking always came easier to him on ice, it basically ran through his blood at this point.  his father, uncle, everyone he knew on his dad’s side had played hockey in one form or another.  but now the problem was getting in, it was locked.  a simple rock could fix the issue, but before he could commit he heard footsteps of someone who could only be one person. esme. he turned to face her, “you don’t have a key by chance, do you?  I was just going --” he held up the rock.

                even in this seemingly dystopian world, theodore still had a habit of rubbing salt into heavy torn wounds. a habit that she was certain he had picked up amongst his many travels up his own arse. “if it means getting away from you? then please, take me away now.” she replies, hues narrowing. “please, i invented that category. you on the otherhand, will not be able to survive without being tended to hand and foot.”

“I’m touched.” tripp said dramatically, his hand moving over his heart for a moment, dropping back to his side as he rolled his eyes. “just because you read about surviving, doesn’t mean you actually will.  I don’t know if you’ve seen the purge but if this shit keeps up.” he motioned around alluding to the whole ‘no adult’ situation. “that might actually become reality.” he pointed out.  “and the little ones never survive the purge.” he smirked, finishing his sentence with a poke to the side of her arm.

"SOMETIMES I WONDER if there’s another version of this world where we’re friends.”

"well, let me know if you work it out -- about the other world. it seems like A NICE PLACE.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃, 𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 and eyes flashing with judgement. She knew how to have fun, she was just electing not to in circumstances such as … well, the supposed end of the world. ❛  It’s like the first rule you learn in any scenario not to go somewhere alone, smartass. ❜ A sip of her beer punctuates the end of her sentence, a triumphant see? I’m having fun in the face of refusing to look at him. ❛  Horror movies, Girl Scouts, camping … then again, I’m probably the only buzzkill interested in going.  ❜  A glance is tossed towards the tree he’d used as a makeshift urinal.  ❛  I’m so sure everyone else is too interested in fun party activities like public urination.  ❜ 

his head leans back against the wall as well as he looked over at the girl. there was a scoff that came out of him, “this isn’t a horror movie, i can handle myself.  i’m not scared of anyone else here.” and while, yes, the boy was probably beyond blackout -- but he was an enforcer on top of a boxer.  he could probably fight most with his eyes closed.  at the state he was in, it was getting the boy to stop would pose much more of an issue. his eyes rolled at the mention of his recent event. “bathrooms are for fucking, trees are for peeing.  you don’t catch on to things very quickly, do you?”