#river.

ㅤㅤthe sight of @apex-royalty on her property was unexpected to say the least, not exactly used to visitors, or anyone really, venturing this far out in the bayou. she watched him for a moment before standing and brushing her hands off on her jeans, eyeing him as she approached. he certainly didn't look like a bumbling tourist, but she couldn't imagine why else he'd be out here. ❛ are you lost? ❜ she asked, sounding as confused as she did concerned.

Back in Indiana, River wouldn't have said they had anything against football: in a town where everything revolved around football and Exy games, it gave them a reason to be out of the double wide that was less likely than anything else to get them in trouble. They took advantage of that, because they had no reason not to. River was a jock in Indiana—at least they were for most of the time they lived there, before they had enough self-awareness to realize all the ways that they were different. The ways they didn't fit.

It feels different here, though. Here, the football team is beloved in a way that Foxes aren't. They have the whole University behind them, they draw crowds that are actually cheering for them, rather than just waiting to see how they're going to fuck up next.

River's been a Fox for long enough, now, to have a chip on their shoulder about it. To not like the way the Foxes are being trotted out for Palmetto Athletics solidarity now that they've won something, in a way they hadn't been last year. They're being put up on the video screen today to wave at the crowd, but they know that if the Foxes don't keep it up, they'll be right back where they started, with the University threatening to cut the team entirely.

At least there's a flask going around. If they're going to have to spend their Friday night here, instead of out in Columbia or in the Vixen Den, then there better be. They haven't really been following the score, but they do look up at the videoscreen for long enough to make sure it's focused on the action on the field below. Once they know they're not about to be broadcast drinking underage to a whole stadium of people, they turn themself away to take a few furtive swallows, grimacing slightly as the liquor burns its way down their throat.

"Looks like the coast is still clear," they say, wiping the back of their hand across their path and passing it on. "You want some?"

It's the moments we share, the memories we find.

Natalia tried not to be disappointed with the answer to the riddle and the lack of prize at the end of the scavenger hunt. She clung to that disappointment, finding it more preferable than the overwhelming sentimentality that washed over her when she realized Richard had crafted this entire hunt solely for the purpose of getting the wards to work towards a single goal and spend time together.

She wandered into the Great Room and spotted River, taking a seat on one of the sofas nearby where she crossed one leg over the other and regarded him. A mix of curiosity and mild amusement on her face. "River, hi," she greeted, her tone more cordial than usual. Since their return to Woodrow, River had surprisingly managed to stay relatively low on her shit list. "I'm surprised Hollywood let you go so easily. Aren't you writing its next big hit?"

slim fingers with knobby knuckles dance effortlessly with the black and white keys, a soft but soaring sonata ringing throughout the room from the piano, perhaps, in a way less echoing on this movement than the one before he notices... the thought prompting him to look up, feeling a twist of anxiety and a sinking of dread, heat on his cheeks like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar as he sees the door open and the other guest of the house standing there. the music clumsily stumbles to a stop as river moves to shut the piano. "farleigh," he says, rising to his feet. "i hope i didn't wake you — i thought the house might be big enough..." ( to drown out the sound? to hide in at night without being found? ) he isn't sure what he wants to say, so he doesn't continue, letting the other fill in the blanks and tentatively adjusting his glasses.