AlteredTundra

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Edenridge

_{A @metanoia & @Aces Away Collab || Tw. Mentions of Suicide and child abuse}

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On nights like this, Mika found himself drifting back to the past. Thinking about the chilly nights spent in New York. the chill that always came in pair: both with the weather and how often his father’s red-hot temper and the voice that could reach even those miles away that came off as such a paralyzing coldness, he couldn’t help but think about it.

As he was sitting up top of the Gonzalez house and just watched the dark sky, the moon and stars familiarizing themselves with each other, he was tuning in to that Mei Midnight’s thing. He was flipping through a few channels and happened to catch it. He didn’t think that this old stereo had her...whatever you called it on its frequency, but tonight had been full of so many weird happenings that Mika shrugged it away. He usually would try and question it and maybe get to the bottom of why his vivid thoughts were taking shape and why he could still hear his father’s temper flare as if he was screaming right at him.

But it made very little sense. It also made little sense as to why he was feeling exceptionally reminiscent of the past. Like how he was thinking back to the last time he saw Veronika.

It was a year before he came to live with Big Rey. It was a year before his father made a mistake he couldn’t undo. Alexei was not only someone Mika cherished over everyone else but, she was his oldest friend.

Was? She is his oldest friend.

Veronika Petronova.

He can still remember how much lip she gave him. Not on his lip but how she talked to him. Their families were allies in the war between the Russian Elite. So they were always together. Always near each other. She was the only member of his crew that wasn’t a boy, but damn it if Ronnie wasn’t a touch son of a bitch when it mattered. Among his group of hardasses: between Alexei, Vlad, Vik, and Pavel, Ronnie was the toughest out of all of them. She was fearless and unapologetic. She could just as easily win you over with her tenderness and surprise you with a kick in the yaitsa (balls) if you weren’t careful.

She was everything to Mika. They say you shouldn’t fall for your friends and Mika probably didn’t even know that he had, but when he fell for Ronnie, he did so without realizing it.

And then…

“Why did you do it?” He heard himself ask. Obviously there was nobody there to answer. Why would he even get an answer? “Not like you’re even here anymore, Ronnie. It’s not like you can actually hear me.”

”Don’t say things that aren’t true, Misha!”

“Oh great, now I’m hearing things. Next thing that’ll happen is--”

And then an icy feeling passed through him. At the moment it did, Mika saw those familiar eyes flow past him and he turned around, looking at all angles: behind him, above, side to side, and repeating until he exhausted himself only for him to see her to his right, waving at him like the smartass that he remembered she was.

“This is a dream, isn’t it? God, I knew I shouldn’t have snuck that last slice of Dolce de Leches. And now I’m suffering for it.”

There was a laugh from the person he thought was Ronnie. “Since when did you get all fancy? Mr ‘I can barely spell my own birth name’. You sure have grown, huh?”

It was just a dream. Just a dream and Mika was going to wake up to the sound of Ley pounding on his door for eating last piece that was meant for her.

“Miiiishaaaaaa!~” She teased and kept singing until he paid attention.

“There’s no way you’re real. You’re...not here. You haven’t been here for over five years.”

“And yet, here I am in the flesh...so to speak.” She laughed and Mika’s heart sank a few levels.

“Blyat. There’s just no way you’re here.”

He was still in a state of disbelief. And that was rare for Mikhail zima. If it was his imagination, then all he had to do was blink a few times or shake his head, and that would be the end of it.

So he did.

One blink. Two blink. Three blinks

One shake. Two shake. Three shak--

“You know you look pretty stupid doing that. It’s like we’re kids again and right after you tried your first sip of actual alcohol, you couldn’t handle it.” Ronnie laughed, leaning in front of Mika as their faces were right next to each other. “Or are you just nervous about being near me again?” She asked, looking at him with an expression mixed with curiosity and that same show of her personality that Mika remembered. “Oh I know! You remembered how often I used to kick your ass at kickball and you want to push that memory back! I mean I can’t blame you for that. I was pretty amazing. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to--”

“Oh for the love of--” Mika finally acknowledged Ronnie or the Ghost of Ronnie and looked at her. “That’s not why and you know it. Or do you not even remember?”

The air suddenly became thick with tension as both of them fell silent. She looked at him and he looked at her. Their gaze had said more than any of her rambling or him trying to ignore that this was happening could ever do. The unspoken words between them, the things he never got to say to her and the confusion he left for him and at such a young age too.

“Yeah…” She spoke, looking down at her pale legs and feeling only what she assumed were residual feelings of guilt from when she had been alive. “I know.”

Mika couldn’t look at her right now so he looked up, seeing the sky dance with the stars and moon. Or maybe that’s just what he wanted to see right now. “I don’t know why you never told me, Ron. Were things really so bad for you?”

“It was..complicated. I guess, I don’t even know why it happened. It just did.” The sadness in her voice was obvious.

And that was what angered Mika the most. Thinking back, he never saw any of the signs. She was feisty and caring, so how come he never noticed it? “I just wish you could have told me. I wish--”

“Wish what? That you could have stopped it? Misha, you and I were just kids. You could barely stop people from ripping on your father. Or those bulgarian punks who tried messing with your sisters. What happened..that wasn’t your fault. My dad...and…” Again, she fell silent. The words too hard to say aloud.

So Mika would continue for her. “I know, he was a bastard. Mine’s a bastard too. But I didn’t think it was that bad for you.”

As she let those words sink in and she looked to Mika, Ronnie gave her friend a smile. “Misha..there wasn’t anything you or anyone else could have done. I hope you know that. My dad was the accelerant, but he didn’t deliver the final blow. I had more issues than I care to admit. I guess now, in whatever this whole thing is with me being here and apparently looking like how I would have if I had lived, what’s done is done. I know nobody could have stopped me. You understand? It’s not your fault I took my own life.”

Hearing it after so many years made Mika angry, but finally looking at her and he saw the tears flow down her ghostly face. It wasn’t that she was a literal ghost because Ronnie had always been pale, but seeing the genuine emotion on her face sent a whirlwind of emotions -- ones Mika thought he had moved on from.

For a lot of nights after it happened, he kept thinking about what he could’ve done to change it all? What could have he done? He didn’t know then and even hearing it he still didn’t know. Losing Ronnie did a lot of harm to him. Maybe it was the catalyst as to why he got into a fight with the son of his father’s rival and why he ended up in Edenridge. Or maybe he was just destined to become the disappointment. Any of those felt like the right answer, but how fucked was it that he thought any of that was right? How fucked was he to think that her dying was right?

It wasn’t right, but Ronnie was the kind of person who always saw the good even in the darkest days.

“So what do I do now?”

And she was gone. Just like that. She came to assure him that it wasn’t his fault or that Mika being here and she wasn’t somehow wasn’t his doing.

As he watched the final stages of the sunrise, Mika was left with so many unsaid words, but they would just be a repeat of what had already been said. Maybe this was the time for him to catch some sleep if he could, but he didn’t feel tired. Even if he wanted to, there was no doubt that his family would be waking up soon and he just couldn’t think straight right now. Maybe he should call Lex? Or maybe he should try and summon Ronnie back? Would that be a better option? Try and get her back? No...Mika couldn’t do that.

Minutes and minutes went by as he was so deep in his own self-inflicted misery, constantly wondering what should he do now?

"Well, don't you just look cheery," Danny's voice faded in from his left, the boy also sitting on the roof with his arms thrown behind him for support. He grinned at Mika sadly from his spot. "'M guessin' I'm not the only one who decided ta visit?"

He wasn’t so much surprised that Danny had decided to visit him. Honestly, he didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but given that Ronnie, of all people, would come to him in some manner (maybe as a manifestation of his thoughts), but seeing someone who he genuinely bonded with above most, well it was enough to make Mika actually shed a couple of tears.

And he did when he brought the kid into an embrace. It was sudden and without warning. Mika seldom did this because, well, he had the rep of someone who showed emotion like a textbook case of a man with severe toxic masculinity, but he was alone on the roof with Danny and...it was Danny. “I missed you, brat.” Mika said into Danny’s shoulders. God, even still smelled like that kid’s second hand leather and two different types of smoke; a bit of Decky's scent with the addition of Danny's own favorite wrap flavor- grape Swishers- and the fireplace the Boaz brothers had in their apartment. Talk about bringing him back.

"Ah shit, 'm makin' everyone cry t'night," Danny sniffed, gripping Mika tight and burying his head into his shoulder much like he had done earlier with Decky. Mika was just as much his brother as Decky, and Sonny, and the rest of the Serpents and even Charlie. There was nothing that would keep Danny from showing affection to them whenever he was able, for as long as he could get away with. He didn’t see Mika cry much, but he had a feeling that he and Decky had seen it more often than most, having built up the necessary trust to be let past that wall. “‘M sorry I couldn’t get here earlier, I’ve had a lotta visits ta get through.”

And it was true, he’d spent a considerable amount of time with Decky, and the other three Southies once Charlie’d shown up. Then he’d hopped over to visit Sonny; the older man was a drunken, faded mess when he’d arrived, and Danny learned that Sonny had gotten plenty of visits from past crew members and even his parents. Once he was able to make sure Sonny was away from weapons and safely puking his guts out in the bathroom, Danny had worriedly hopped to Phil and had his nerves calmee as the man cried and cradled his small form like he would turn to smoke. Beau and his wife were much the same, and Danny reveled in the parental warmth that he could only feel metaphysically.

Then it was off to the other Serpents, though he saw how happy Creed and Jokes were through the curtains, their family finally full once more, so he simply smiled and focused on his next location. They didn’t need his help tonight. Prof and Fins were doing ok, but they had just had a baby and were passed out long before he showed up in the dead of night to say hi. Duke, however, was there on the couch, baby bundled in his arms and cooing at it in a manner no one would ever really see outside the safety of that apartment. He was also relaxed in a way he never is in public, so Danny lamented over the fact that he couldn’t scare a man holding an infant in his arms. He stayed and talked with Duke for almost an hour, gushing over the baby and getting his updates on the Booker family. That led him to visiting Dutchess and Ransom, who were in the middle of smoking themselves stupid with Molotov and Meredith. After that it was off to see Lanie, who let him watch over her baby while she bawled her eyes out on his shoulder, arms wrapped around him.

Busy didn't cut it.

Now, though, he was on his final visit of the night, and he could feel himself fading the closer the sun came to rising.

Fast forward a few minutes spent not living up to stereotypes that most associate Mika with and showing a lot of emotion with the only person he could get emotional like this and not feel like he had to punch a shoulder, Mika was able to look at Danny’s face without getting filled up on said emotions. “Can’t say I’m surprised you’d be busy; a lot of people miss that almost-too-cute of a face to hate. Present company included.”

Truth be told, he missed Danny more than he was letting on. Seeing his face brought him back to a time when his life wasn’t so fucked.

Okay, that was a lie.

He was actually in a solid place now. Of course, he still had the worry of his father’s son creeping around any chance he felt like tormenting Mika. Hyde was an SOB in so many different ways and his torture was creative and almost genius in its own twisted way. But with Lex and them living together in the same building that a lot of Serpent and allies live, Mika could say life was good. Tonight just happened to be special because the time he found himself plagued by thoughts and prayers of the past would be when he was visited by both his darkness and what he has always considered his light.

“I’m honestly just grateful for this time. Shit’s been a roller coaster. Sometimes it’s wack and then sometimes it’s just wacky.” He laughed as he glanced up at the sky. It was still dark, though specs of light were starting to break through, but he didn’t know if that was good or not.

"Almost too cute?" Danny scoffed while smirking and staying leaned up against Mika. "I'm fuckin' adorable! Everyone says it!" He nudged Mika's shoulder, missing the ability to feel the warmth all his brothers provided. "I'm grateful too. I needed ta get a lotta your heads on straight, one way or another. Ya guys gotta stick together when I'm gone again, yeah?" He asked, closing his eyes as his head dropped onto Mika's shoulder. He probably had another minute or two before he was gone. He didn't fix anyone tonight, maybe kicked them towards a better path but definitely not fixed. Nothing can get fixed in a night; not Decky's drug issues, or Poppy's mental state, or Jade's guilt and worries. Not what Charlie did to all of them. Not the holes that were left.

But they can work towards it. They can fill the holes in over time, if they all have each other. So Danny decided to ask for one thing he never dared to when he was alive. The one thing no Southies dare ask for.

"Promise me?"

Mika smiled at Danny’s request…no, maybe it was more of a plead than a request?

It felt strange for the Zima boy. As he stared off into whatever was in front of him, which happened to be the tracks that separated the Southside and the Northside, it always made him laugh how there could be such little space between them, yet be worlds apart. It was a funny thing because this life that he lived, the life of being Ivan Zima’s son as well as Big Rey Gonzalez’s son (though not by blood) had always defined him and confined him to this life. So, in a way, he had always stuck with his own kind. Maybe it’s why he never allowed himself to admit what he felt for Cece or let her know what he felt once upon a time.

Not that he felt any reason to linger about her. Danny’s plead just caught him off guard if he was honest and forced a sentimental reminiscence to consume him. Truth of the matter was that Danny didn’t need to ask. ]“Silly kid..” He muttered, smiling as he leaned into Danny while keeping his eyes forward. “You never need to ask. Southside for life, right?” Maybe famous last words, but they were ones Mika stood by more than anything. They were his family and he’d die for them if need be.

Danny smiled, eyes still shut as he let out a sigh he didn't need. "For life." He echoed, before his weight disappeared from Mika's side, leaving the man alone with the newly risen sun.

Edenridge

_{a @metanoia & @brutalbx collaboration}
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Marco’s mind seemed to be full of thoughts he couldn’t shut out, but hasn’t that been his entire day? It seemed regardless if he was at home during the point that he was on-and-off listening to Mei’s podcast/stream or dreaming(?) that he was walking and then running all the way to the place where he got shot by Charlie Decker, Marco just couldn’t shut out those screaming thoughts. He tried to and even went by Cat’s sandwich shop just as it opened and got himself the only thing that has ever helped him that wasn’t his squad on League. A sandwich they might as well call “The Marco” because the Irish Reuben was what he always ordered. And Cat knew him to prefer a bit more kraut than most people preferred.

But as he sat at his computer desk, the sun glaring in his face and him killing heartless in Kingdom Hearts, a change of pace of sorts, he chuckled at the irony. He was in the Halloween Town world and it was Halloween for Edenridge in the real world. How funny it was to him that some things aligned. And he tried to focus on it, but the only thing that he could think about was that conversation he had with himself. Cat helped him make some sense about it and one of the many screaming thoughts was a repeat of her advice to not have regrets. Whether he was talking to himself or some weird astral projection of his inner turmoil, Marco thought a lot about what she told him.

But there was something he had to do first. God or whatever sort of divine figure was at work tonight, knew that before he could go check up on Danny and maybe really talk with him, Marco knew he had to do something first.

After a quick shower, and getting a “small” snack of a complete breakfast spread of sausage, eggs, toast, and some skillet potatoes tossed with some chili peppers, Marco was out the door. He felt full enough to have the confidence to do what he knew he needed to do, but he also had a level of conviction that wasn’t gonna be scared off by any doubt or fear of the unknown. Unlike the last time he got into his brother’s truck and drove to the scene of the worst event in his life, Marco was sure that this was going to happen in the way he wanted.

As he parked the truck in the same spot he did last time, like it was a symbolism for his growth in the past eight or so hours/ To most, that might not a lot of time but going through what he went through, it was like he spent that time in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber.

He took in a deep breath, running his hands along his arms that were inside a hoodie he had forgotten was Danny’s. A thought came to him of wanting to return it to him. Exhaling, Marco felt a wave of stress being released from him. He opened his mouth and just said it: “I don’t know if this is actually going to work, but if I could talk to myself, then maybe I can even talk to you, Charlie Decker.” Marco closed his eyes, some kind of foreboding sense in him refusing to let him open them.

As per the former soccer standouts request, emerging from behind the bow worn and decrepit “Welcome to Edenridge High” sign was the man himself, the monster; Charlie Decker. Of course, he hadn’t changed from that day. The visage that presented itself to Marco was not the same one that Poppy and the others had seen. He was not clean and unbruised. He did not look comfortable or at peace. This Charlie, this was the Charlie on that day. His hair was greasy, his chocolate eyes were surrounded by dark, foreboding sleepless circles. Dried blood was splattered on his cheek and his clothes were worn and dirty. This was not the free spirit of Charlie Decker, this was the memory, the haunting pain in the collective gut of Edenridge. This was the boy the world let down.

“Marco”

His heart started to beat faster as the world around him came to a standstill. And he could hear the thumping of it pierce through his ears. His eyes remained closed but that did nothing to quell the fear inside him that was growing and growing until it threatened to explode from anywhere it could.

He thought he was ready. Marco was confident that after everything: having a talk with himself, getting food and unanticipated advice from Cat, and going home and having a bit of time to himself, Marco thought he prepared himself enough for ..for …this.

But then he heard Charlie’s voice say his name. It was strange because he seldom interacted with Charlie outside of small moments when they’d pass each other in the hall. Truthfully, Marco’s relationship with Charlie was almost nonexistent, yet his voice and hearing his name come from them was an unbearable terror that made the Mexican boy weak in the knees.

But he had to regain himself. He had to find that confidence he was sure he came to this field with before Charlie appeared before him (or so he thought). He took in a total of three breaths. On the third one, he opened his eyes. He held himself together, though the effects of his legs shaking, made him take a knee and it was his weak leg that he had to put force on.

“Charlie…” Marco said under a few, quick breaths. He grunted as he was vertical again. “Can’t believe that actually worked.” It was the surprise on Marco’s face that said it all. He knew whatever was happening was, if nothing else, unbelievable and unexplainable to anyone who hadn’t experienced it. With Marco not having many ties to Edenridge, his experience would be with...this person.

After the initial dust cloud of shock settled, Marco stood about five feet away from Charlie and just looked at him. He couldn’t find any words to say other than his name. He couldn’t think straight. His thoughts were all over the place and, while he could say a mountain of things, none made it out with tact, so he just gritted his teeth. As he did that, he balled up his right fist so tight he felt his nails dig deep into the flesh of his palm.

“Charlie…Decker…”

And as he cried out in a mixture of terror and desperation that was laced with a latent anger Marco hadn’t known in years, he hooked his right arm, aiming dead straight for Charlie’s jaw.

The impact from Marco’s fist sent Charlie backward into a parked car. Standing as tall as the Native American boy did, it was always the case that whenever anyone swung for Charlie, which was often when he was alive, had to swing upwards. He had made sure to make himself corporeal for this meeting with Marco. He had learned that the charged emotions of those around him were what dictated his abilities in the moment. The likes of Poppy and the others, they remembered a different Charlie to the one that someone like Marco would. Marco would likely only remember the boy that shot up the school, who didn’t socialize at parties and constantly looked like he had just gone five rounds with Mike Tyson. Marco’s rage, Charlie felt it when he was called, he needed to let out whatever he had inside and he needed to do so at the darkest version of Charlie, the one that stole his future.

He corrected himself and stood back up to his full height. He didn’t move any closer to the other boy, just stayed perfectly resolute and still like the elder tree on the edge of town.

“Let it out, Marco.”

“Let all of what out?” Marco questioned back to a stilled Charlie Decker.

Marco felt an immense pain coursing through the hand that had connected with Charlie’s jaw and it surged down his leg. It was bad enough that he allowed himself to be consumed by the emotions swirling inside him like something wasn’t balanced, but now he was suffering a pain caused by Charlie, but it had a double layering effect to it. The injury he caused and the literal sturdiness of his jaw made his entire hand hurt.

Looking at him, he needed to control himself. God, Marco really needed to find that center again.

But he couldn’t.

Not now and especially not after Charlie just...stood there.

Limping forward, Marco was slow in closing the gap between him and Charlie. He was seconds away from grabbing his shirt and pushing him further against the truck but the way that Charlie didn’t move startled him. “What do you want me to say, Charlie? Do you want me to say that I hate you? Is that why you came when I called? Jesus Christ…” In a fit of frustration, he stomped the ground with both feet and gritted his teeth again from the stupidity that hindsight gave it. “God-fucking-damnit! You did this, you know? You don’t say anything and now because of you, I have a bum leg! Because you...Because you decided that you had to make people pay, you made..”

Fuck, what was he saying? No, that’s not true. Did...he really feel this way? This...wasn’t like the Marco Brady that was so full of life...or was this who he became?

Marco sank to the ground and his head lowered as he hit the grass with a close fist out of pure frustration at himself.

“I did do that and you didn’t do anything Marco, you were just there”

Charlie’s response was very matter of fact; in that moment it didn’t seem as if Marco needed an answer as to why or for a glimpse into the psyche of the mad man who shot up a school and the kids inside whom he had known since kindergarten. Acting as he was, as the boy he used to be, Charlie hated this but it’s who the former football star needed him to be right now. He had spent years in the afterlife regretting every decision he had ever made but Marco didn’t know that and he didn’t need to know that unless he wanted to.

“What is it you want, Marco? You called me here. Do you want an apology? Do you want to know why? Or do you just want to get a good look at the monster that haunts everyones dreams in some morbid curiosity? Man up and tell me what you want?!”

Marco felt silence take him in her grasp. The pain lingered, but he internalized it and kept it bottled up for what probably seemed like an eternity. He just...sat on the grass. He looked at the ground. At his hands. He replayed those moments before and after he was shot in his head, reliving it over and over and over and over again. He tried to make sense of it and maybe find an answer to Charlie’s questions.

But there was nothing. Nothing that made any sense, anyway. He just kept going back to what his other self said. How he needed to confront his external crisis. How he would know what he needed from Charlie when the time came.

The longer he sat there, lamenting about the past and thinking about it, he still didn’t know. Deep down, he just didn’t understand anything right now. “I...don’t know.” He finally broke the silence and his body shook as he raised up his head to meet Charlie’s gaze. “I-I thought…” Marco grunted as he got to a vertical base. He wobbled in place, but remained steady. He glared at Charlie, feeling the anger rise up again but he didn’t feel anything violent in that ire. It was controlled now. That one punch he gave was all of the hurt he endured during the months after he was shot. “I thought if I saw you and I was face to face with the person who did this to me -- and yes, you did this to me. You may not have been aiming at me, but you did it. And I thought if I saw you again, I’d know what I’d want to say or do. But..”

Another moment of silence. Marco bit his lip, curled his right hand into a fist (more out of habit than anything else) .

And then he took a deep breath.

“But I honestly don’t know what I want. I know it’s not an apology and I sure as hell didn’t want to see you dead. My Ma would never forgive me if I ever wished death upon anyone. Even if it was you. And I’m not going to do this anymore. Whatever is happening here, I’m done. Charlie Decker, I still hate you, but I don’t need to see you anymore. I think...that’s what the other me meant. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you or if you even know what I’m talking about, but it’s me, as you say, manning up.” He hated that he laughed for a short second after he said that.

“About time, Marco.” Charlie leaned back against a car, relaxing his posture and transforming from a menacing presence to a far more relaxed one. He placed his hands into his pockets before glancing over towards the soccer field where their last meeting had taken place.

“It’s not about what I took from you and I did take from you, it’s never been about that. Marco you had plans and dreams and a future but what you never got was that you still do. Yeah, maybe you’re not going to be playing for LA Galaxy but maybe that’s not where you're supposed to end up. The fact of the matter is, by letting the memory of what I did go and what you were supposed to be, you’re going to open up an entirely new road for yourself. There are times in our lives where we find ourselves at a crossroads. This is yours. It’s your choice if you wanna go down it”

There was a bittersweet feeling starting to swell up inside him. Hearing Charlie make actual sense was a pill he wasn’t ready to swallow yet. Hearing that he wasn’t to blame, though deep down Marco knew the deceased boy was right, he wasn’t ready to accept it. The pain he felt was still there and even though he has accepted some truth of this whole ordeal, he just wasn’t at that point that he could willingly accept what Charlie said, let alone make any decisions about letting go.

But that was okay. Actually it was more than okay.

As he looked at Charlie, his face still filled him with anger that he just couldn’t control, he didn’t want to hit him. This…journey was rough and the past twelve or so hours had been more mentally taxing on him than actually getting shot had. That was crazy, but it was the truth and he was ready to just be done with it. Maybe Charlie understood that because now that he was looking up at the boy, he noticed he didn’t look as…death-ridden. His features were cleaner, like the Charlie that Marco remembered from before the shooting. The Charlie that he remembered passing in the halls of Edenridge sometimes.

And then Marco let out a small laugh. “No, I don’t think that I will.” Of course, he had to say the iconic line from Avengers: Endgame. “At least, not right now.” Marco limped past Charlie and was on the driver’s side of the truck. His hand was gripping the door handle and turned his head at Charlie. “I never thought I would say this, but thanks for helping, Charlie.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Marco. You still have a ways to go but good luck” Charlie nodded towards his former classmate. He had hoped that what he had said would be enough to help the boy out. Marco was never a friend and they were barely even acquaintances but he had suffered more than most because of what Charlie did. If he could give him any sort of closure, he felt it was his duty. He glanced up behind Marco at the school and he felt a pain in his heart. It wasn't a pleasant feeling to be reminded that he never truly left. He sadly turned his back and walked towards the football field, fading into the night.

𝗠𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲: 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕖𝕤

Hmmm I might be interested. Gonna hop into the server and see what happens.

♆ 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 ♆ (𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢)

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______________________________________	______________________________________________________________________________________ ⚚ LOCATION ⚚ Training Ground → Infirmary → En-route to the Mess Hall ⚚ OUTFIT ⚚ Comfort fit ⚚ INTERACTING WITH ⚚ Peter (NPC) ______________________________________________________________________________________

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Someone once said that the early bird gets the worm.

Now, Jackson had no idea what that honestly meant. He wasn’t technically a bird. Maybe in a symbolic sense because he was a Son of Hermes and for one time only, he could fly thanks to those footy-wooty winged shoes that his father so graciously gave him to escape the vile clutches of Kenji.

But what about the worm end of that saying? Jackson wasn’t a worm. Or maybe he was and he spent his entire existence never knowing that fact? No, he wasn’t a worm. Worms were disgusting and Jackson was everything but.

Not that he thought of himself better than worms. Worms were, after all, nutrients for those next in line in the circle of life.

“Wait, what was I doing again?”

Jackson often got lost in thought and as he was midstep, he forgot what he was even doing at the training grounds. He woke up early today. He always was an early riser. Maybe it had to do with his upbringing. For as much as he’d hate to give Kenji any credit, those years spent being put through his torturous vision of what he called “parenting”, it had ingrained a habit into Jackson’s core. Because of all of those days, his body automatically woke up just as the sun was starting to rise. It’s been like this ever since he came to camp nearly seven years ago.

Right. Back to figuring out what he was doing before he got sidetracked.

Suddenly Jackson heard a battle cry from behind. One of the younger kids he helped train had their sword raised high above their head and came down with a thunderous vertical, downward slash. The instinct that Jackson prided himself in kicked in and he sidestepped the younger Demi as his movements were an example of his experience.

The kid stumbled forward. In a fluid motion, Jackson’s body turned and the dull end of his wooden practice sword came behind the kick, bluntly tapping him on the back. “Aaaand you’re dead!”

“I’m not done!” Little Peter, as they called him, declared as he charged forth.

Peter was about five years younger than Jackson. A newcomer to camp and someone who Jackson took on as a student. He had grown to really like the kid and before long they had a schedule to practice every morning before Jackson began his own training.

And Peter came wailing slash after slash. His passion to improve himself was only matched by his heart. Jackson grinned as he effortlessly blocked him, but after the first dozen, it was starting to be less of a game and more of an instinct kind of thing. Peter was better than he was a few months ago.

“Sorry, but it’s time to end it.”

Using the same move as before but switching up his speed, Jackson ducked under Peter’s horizontal slash and reverse-gripped his practice sword. In the same motion, he drove the bottom of the wooden sword into Peter’s stomach.

And it was in the aftermath of it all did he realize he did it too hard. “Oh shit!”

Oh shit was right. Jackson saw his student kneeling over on one knee, holding his stomach.

Worried, Jackson rushed to his side only to see his student smiling and holding his hand up, giving Jackson a thumbs up.

And the son of Hermes just laughed. “I guess that concludes today’s lesson. Don’t get too cocky, alright? Control yourself and I might be the one keeling over in pain.” Jackson teased him and got to him at eye level. “Now, let me go take ya to the infirmary. Lord knows someone’s gotta take responsibility for giving you that shiner that nobody will see unless you take your shirt off.”

Jackson helped the young Son of Ares out of the training grounds and helped him secure a bed in the Infirmary. When he heard an earful from whoever was there (not like it was anything that he hadn’t heard before), he exited out of the tent, though he didn’t wander too far off. He wanted to just take a moment to reflect on what just happened. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do. He could go back to the training grounds and get his morning training done before the usual suspects decided to infest it with their presence, but he wasn’t quite feeling it.

Part of him wanted to go back to the Hermes Cabin and go back to sleep.

But his body just didn’t feel like it was tired.

So what, then? If not training and not sleep, what could the universe be trying to tell him?

grumblegrumblegrumble

“Of course!” He laughed almost in a facepalm-worthy kind of way.

That’s what the universe was trying to point him towards.

“Thanks universe.”

With that decided, Jackson made a beeline for the mess hall. If he hurried, maybe the line wasn’t that long. And if it was, then he didn’t mind fighting some to get people his food. The early bird might not get the worm, but he sure as hell was going to have his All-American breakfast!

Current Mood in One Gif

Word association Game!

Forclosure

Word association Game!

Disco

Shuffle your playlist 10 times 2: Every Day I'm Shufflin'

The last one auto-closed, but I missed it, so it's coming back!

Using my Spotify Wrapped playlist for this

Rules:
1.) Use anything you can shuffle: spotify, music player, or anything with such a feature
2.) 10 songs are min and max amount
3.) No matter the cringe factor, the first ten songs that you get in your shuffling must be on the list.
4.) Have fun!

1.) I Blame Myself — Sky Ferreira — Night Time, My Time
2.) Cool Kids — Echosmith — Talking Dreams
3.) Firetruck! — Smosh — Sexy Album
4.) Take it All Back 2.0 — Judah & The Lion — Folk Hop N' Roll
5.) I Want it That Way — Backstreet Boys — Millennium
6.) 7 Years — Lukas Graham — Lukas Graham (Blue Album)
7.) Just the Way You Are — Bruno Mars — Doo-Wops & Hooligans
8.) This is Home — Cavetown — This is Home
9.) Inhumane Harvest — Canibal Corpse — Violence Unimagined
10.) Trouble — Never Shout Never — Me & My Uke