King of the Playground

[beau_bonnefoy]

Who:BTT and others
Where: Elementary school playground
When:1997
What:Recess
Can other people participate?Yes; if they attended elementary school with us
Summary:The Bad Touch Trio, Arthur, and others interact on the playground

Comments

[reverie_iggy]

If Arthur's day had been bad from the start, the very moment that he landed face first into the ground beneath him just made it oh so much worse. He knew that there was something terribly wrong when his mythical friends began to run away, horror evident in their expressions. "W-Wait! Where are you guys going?" Arthur asked, voice cracking now that it was one of the first times he spoke ever since the glue incident. His cheeks were flushed and eyes glistening with a thin layer of welling tears, threatening to spill if it wasn't for the fact that he hated to show his weak side.

Where were his friends going? Did they even want to leave him? Were they not friends though?

As soon as he was going to look around in curiosity, Arthur felt a sharp pain in his back and then another more blunt pain near that same spot before being forced onto the ground beneath him. Turning his body weakly to face Hakkon, he stared up at the Norwegian with wide and evidently shocked eyes. His lips twitched downward into a small grimace as he noticed the situation as well as the scrape that was now on his knee.

Now his friends had run off and he now had to deal with the miseries of being. . . himself. His knee was hurting as well as his back and the roots of his messy blond hair, this day was absolutely horrible! Clenching his fingers in the ground underneath him, Arthur chewed on the bottom of his lip to prevent himself from either sobbing or snap back. Instead, his gaze flickered from Haakon to the troll that was behind him and he flinched. Scrambling away from the blonde, Arthur muttered a soft, "Vikings suck." before rushing away from the swing area, Haakon's 'territory'.

Looking around for a new area to seclude himself away from the rest of the students, he finally set his sights on a tree off the side of the playground. Hurrying off towards the tree, Arthur made sure to peer over his shoulder to make sure that no one was following him. With a soft huff, the British boy sat down under the tree, back leaning against the rough bark as he looked around for his friends again. Of course, no one was there.

No one was ever there for him unless it was meant to hurt him in the end. Arthur hated the fact that Francis was a close family friend's son! He hated him and his small group! Hated them!

Then an idea flickered through his mind and the depression constant within his emerald eyes seemed to light up with life and realization. A grin crept up on his lips in place of his frown, not one of innocent attentions but rather of more ill intentions.

He would show them. That he wasn't that pushover that they all thought he was. He would show them all, that he was above them.