(no subject)
Bribe Number Next!
IBG I meant to write more officeverse, but I liked the images ^^
Title: Walkin'
Wordcount: 930
One of those moonless dripping BC nights, when the cloudcover was a grey ceiling close enough you wanted to duck, and belly-stained orange from the city lights. Hugo was smeared with mud and grass along his left side from when that douchebag Kevin had tackled him, even though the ball had been clear on the other end of the field. Hugo should've punched him, should've wanted to, but what was the point? Hitting Kevin wouldn't make him any less of a douche. You couldn't beat the stupid out of anyone. Look at Ellis. Hud' been hitting Ellis for years. Still had the bruises from last time, including one the size of his fist, high on his left shoulder; if Ellis got murdered this weekend they wouldn't need to call Ellis' dentist, assuming he had one; all they'd have to do is look at the bitemarks preserved in Hu's shoulder. Walking home from practice in wet clothes, oh joy. His wet jeans rasped against his thighs.
Hu wished for a dirtier city, so there'd be some garbage for him to kick. Kicking at water was a waste of time. All he wanted was some fucking quiet. Something comfortable and undemanding. Which basically ruled out everyone and everything. Home was people who always wanted something from him, practice was a bunch of noisy retards who wanted to boast about this that or the other (and who were usually big fat liars anyway) school was a pain in the ass and Ellis wasn't a fit topic for conversation. Fucking Ellis.
Toronto was looking better all the time, was all. The scholarship thing. Hugo knew he'd just be trading one set of noisy bastards for another, but he'd be rid of his parents and he'd be rid of Ellis. Hu hated being confused and hated losing his cool because it meant somebody had made him lose his cool, they'd won, and especially he hated when his patented Pang Avoidance Techniques didn't work.
The whole world seemed to be darkness and wet concrete. Little night-dark circles of grass in puddles of porch light, orange streetlights like splashes of paint, and raindrops falling in white streaks in the scattered islands of light. Wet road and wet sidewalk and little cookie-cutter houses on identical lawns with cloned trees and rubber-stamp graffiti from the assholes at Hu's school. Son of a bitch, he was tired of the rut he was stuck in, and he was tired of being wet. Toronto was dry most of the time, wasn't it? Snow was dry so long as you left it outside.
His hoodie was faded-out brown, darker now from the rain, hood up. Hu trudged along the sidewalk, fists shoved into the kangaroo pouch at the front of his sweater, head bowed so he could watch the drops that wrecked the reflections in the puddles. Footsteps behind him, even and quiet, and a big musty-smelling presence settled in beside him. From the size and the quiet and the smell--mud and grass and that unwashed-athlete stink--Hugo figured it was Toby, the goalkeep. Big as a moose, owl-quiet, and dull as a glacier-rolled boulder.
"Fuckin weather," Hu said by way of greeting, because he figured it was expected of him. He did all sorts of things 'cause he figured it was expected of him. Except Ellis. But who ever expected Ellis? They used to be cool, when they were kids. Played nicely and everything. Or nice enough. But then puberty happened and something broke in Ellis' fucked-up head and turned his teeth to broken glass, and ever since all it seemed he wanted to do was write angst to scream at whoever would listen, and sink these jagged new teeth into Hugo, wherever he could reach, and as often as he could.
"Hmph," Toby agreed eventually.
Hugo continued, "And fuckin' Hornby wants extra practices for the game with Pinetree. Pinetree. They haven't beaten anyone at anything in like forever. He just wants an excuse to get away from his wife for a bit, so he makes us mudwrestle."
Toby grunted, a friendly, I-know-what-you-mean grunt.
"Yeah. And what's the point?" Hu said, and rolled his shoulders in a shrug, which made the bite-mark sting. His shoes slapped in the puddles, the sound overlayed by Toby's heavier tread.
"Nn," Toby said, a query.
"Fuckin' nothing," Hu said. "Gets him out of the house for two hours at our expense. You'd think he'd go bowling."
Another agreeable sound, followed by a phlegmy rumble, something that wouldn't in a million years be called a cough.
"The fuck was that?" Hu said, and twisted his head to look at Toby.
The shape that walked beside him was big and broad, like Toby, but the black trenchcoat was new, and so were the spongy rhino-like feet and thick tail. the face beneath the black hood was pointed, wider at the jaw, and bristling with ill-matched teeth.
"...Toby?"
"Nuh-uh," came the amiable negative. Hugo kept walking; the monster kept pace.
"Oh," Hu said. They walked together in the light BC rain. "Going to kill me?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Okay." Hugo blinked a few times, too quickly, then went back to sidewalk-staring. They didn't talk after that. "Seeya," Hu said eventually, when he peeled off to turn down his street.
"Mmph."
That night at dinner Hugo's mom said, "Stop staring like that, people will think you're an addict."
The next day Hu went and told the coach he wanted the Toronto scholarship. And then he went looking for Ellis.
IBG I meant to write more officeverse, but I liked the images ^^
Title: Walkin'
Wordcount: 930
One of those moonless dripping BC nights, when the cloudcover was a grey ceiling close enough you wanted to duck, and belly-stained orange from the city lights. Hugo was smeared with mud and grass along his left side from when that douchebag Kevin had tackled him, even though the ball had been clear on the other end of the field. Hugo should've punched him, should've wanted to, but what was the point? Hitting Kevin wouldn't make him any less of a douche. You couldn't beat the stupid out of anyone. Look at Ellis. Hud' been hitting Ellis for years. Still had the bruises from last time, including one the size of his fist, high on his left shoulder; if Ellis got murdered this weekend they wouldn't need to call Ellis' dentist, assuming he had one; all they'd have to do is look at the bitemarks preserved in Hu's shoulder. Walking home from practice in wet clothes, oh joy. His wet jeans rasped against his thighs.
Hu wished for a dirtier city, so there'd be some garbage for him to kick. Kicking at water was a waste of time. All he wanted was some fucking quiet. Something comfortable and undemanding. Which basically ruled out everyone and everything. Home was people who always wanted something from him, practice was a bunch of noisy retards who wanted to boast about this that or the other (and who were usually big fat liars anyway) school was a pain in the ass and Ellis wasn't a fit topic for conversation. Fucking Ellis.
Toronto was looking better all the time, was all. The scholarship thing. Hugo knew he'd just be trading one set of noisy bastards for another, but he'd be rid of his parents and he'd be rid of Ellis. Hu hated being confused and hated losing his cool because it meant somebody had made him lose his cool, they'd won, and especially he hated when his patented Pang Avoidance Techniques didn't work.
The whole world seemed to be darkness and wet concrete. Little night-dark circles of grass in puddles of porch light, orange streetlights like splashes of paint, and raindrops falling in white streaks in the scattered islands of light. Wet road and wet sidewalk and little cookie-cutter houses on identical lawns with cloned trees and rubber-stamp graffiti from the assholes at Hu's school. Son of a bitch, he was tired of the rut he was stuck in, and he was tired of being wet. Toronto was dry most of the time, wasn't it? Snow was dry so long as you left it outside.
His hoodie was faded-out brown, darker now from the rain, hood up. Hu trudged along the sidewalk, fists shoved into the kangaroo pouch at the front of his sweater, head bowed so he could watch the drops that wrecked the reflections in the puddles. Footsteps behind him, even and quiet, and a big musty-smelling presence settled in beside him. From the size and the quiet and the smell--mud and grass and that unwashed-athlete stink--Hugo figured it was Toby, the goalkeep. Big as a moose, owl-quiet, and dull as a glacier-rolled boulder.
"Fuckin weather," Hu said by way of greeting, because he figured it was expected of him. He did all sorts of things 'cause he figured it was expected of him. Except Ellis. But who ever expected Ellis? They used to be cool, when they were kids. Played nicely and everything. Or nice enough. But then puberty happened and something broke in Ellis' fucked-up head and turned his teeth to broken glass, and ever since all it seemed he wanted to do was write angst to scream at whoever would listen, and sink these jagged new teeth into Hugo, wherever he could reach, and as often as he could.
"Hmph," Toby agreed eventually.
Hugo continued, "And fuckin' Hornby wants extra practices for the game with Pinetree. Pinetree. They haven't beaten anyone at anything in like forever. He just wants an excuse to get away from his wife for a bit, so he makes us mudwrestle."
Toby grunted, a friendly, I-know-what-you-mean grunt.
"Yeah. And what's the point?" Hu said, and rolled his shoulders in a shrug, which made the bite-mark sting. His shoes slapped in the puddles, the sound overlayed by Toby's heavier tread.
"Nn," Toby said, a query.
"Fuckin' nothing," Hu said. "Gets him out of the house for two hours at our expense. You'd think he'd go bowling."
Another agreeable sound, followed by a phlegmy rumble, something that wouldn't in a million years be called a cough.
"The fuck was that?" Hu said, and twisted his head to look at Toby.
The shape that walked beside him was big and broad, like Toby, but the black trenchcoat was new, and so were the spongy rhino-like feet and thick tail. the face beneath the black hood was pointed, wider at the jaw, and bristling with ill-matched teeth.
"...Toby?"
"Nuh-uh," came the amiable negative. Hugo kept walking; the monster kept pace.
"Oh," Hu said. They walked together in the light BC rain. "Going to kill me?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Okay." Hugo blinked a few times, too quickly, then went back to sidewalk-staring. They didn't talk after that. "Seeya," Hu said eventually, when he peeled off to turn down his street.
"Mmph."
That night at dinner Hugo's mom said, "Stop staring like that, people will think you're an addict."
The next day Hu went and told the coach he wanted the Toronto scholarship. And then he went looking for Ellis.