[Location: Taxon High Gymnasium] Time for the big game!

[genequeen]

Tonight is the night of the big basketball game between Taxon High and their rival Cricetidae High! It is the biggest game of the season for the basketball team, the band /and/ the cheerleaders. All of them have performances that they need to hit out of the park. For some there are scholarships on the line and for others it is a huge peer pressure moment.

Of course, for others, it is just another thing to do, another place to be seen and another chance to get out of the house.

What might happen this evening? Will there be triumphs or tragedies? Will there be hookups or hangouts?

Only time will tell!

Comments

[skinandbone]

"I....don't know anything? That's why I'm asking...?"

"Are you okay? You look - you look a little - a little tired."

[personaldemon]

Squint squint squint. Jason stares until he decides that Metody is telling the truth, then slumps against the outer bleacher rail again, looking back at the court.

"'m fine."

Jason scuffs the toe of his boot against the bleacher the next row down, and again, until he manages to leave a little streak of black rubber against the bench.

It would be way too much to say 'sorry' to one of the few people on campus who tolerates his company and vice-versa-ish, so instead Jason leans forward, buries his hands in his big hoodie pocket, and shrugs.

"Chocolate chip sounds okay."

[skinandbone]

Squint all you want, Jason, but all you'll ever see is baffled politeness and a little worry, because what if all this is Jason teasing him? Like, long-term teasing him, because omg, can you believe this guy believed him? Let's all laugh at him.

It could happen. Some people are mean.

But Metody is pretty sure Jason once carried a dead frog around in his pocket all day, and that's some real dedication to teasing.

He smiles happily and hands over one of the cookies. Somehow, they are not covered in rainbow sprinkles.

"Did you hear about this dance? I'm trying to get a group together for a limo, so we can at least arrive in style. You interested?"

[personaldemon]

Jason scrutinizes the held-out cookie. Since this is certainly not the first baked good that Metody has given him, Metody is probably familiar with this: Jason seems to have a problem accepting gifts, even cookies, and always regards each one like it contains either cyanide or the answer to life, the universe, and everything.

And he always feels the need to trade back. Hands emerge from the pockets of the hoodie after several seconds, gripping something which Jason puts down on the empty seat between them. It's a ring, apparently, lopsided as only home-grown attempts can be. It's black. It's made of.... wax?

(careful inspection will reveal this is actually crayon.)

Jason takes the cookie and stuffs half of it into his mouth. Whilst chewing, he simply Stares at Metody from behind his curtain of lank hair.

You just asked if he is interested in going to the dance. The sheer incomprehensibility of this is temporarily enough to drag his attention from the laminated wood of the basketball court and its two- and three- point marker lines.

[skinandbone]

This always makes him feel a little bad, but he's come to accept that Jason is a bit odd about some things. He plucks up the ring, and chuckles with delight.

" - oh, this is cool! Did you make this? Can you make me one in all different colors? I'll so trade you for it!"

[personaldemon]

Jason keeps staring. He does not understand you, Metody.

On the plus side, he does not dislike you, which puts you in rarefied company. He just doesn't understand you.

"....I.... guess?" he mumbles eventually, hesitantly, around his mouthful of cookie. A pause of ten seconds and then Jason adds (getting a few crumbs down the front of the pentagram-dripping-with-blood on his t-shirt), "I can just use a box of crayons if you want all.... colors."

Nasty horrid garish spectrum.

[skinandbone]

Life is wonderful, Jason, and the best thing about it is that there is always some new and marvelous thing waiting to be discovered. Crayon rings are the chocolate chips of joy in the delicious cookie of life. They are wholly expected and completely great.

"That would be awesome. I can bring you the crayons tomorrow? We've got, like, a billion of them for when my little cousins come over."

[personaldemon]

"...yeah. Okay."

Jason wipes his hand off on his baggy black jeans, the cookie having disappeared except for crumbs. He kicks again half-heartedly at the bench before him, twists the fabric of his hoodie with one hand.

Maybe there won't be a tomorrow. For anything, for crayons or stupid cookies. Jason opens his mouth, then shuts it again, and stares down at the court some more.

".....you should leave," he says, sounding about as half-hearted as his kicks. "It's not safe."

Of course, if Thurik the Foul rises and immolates the world in fire and stuff, it won't matter where Metody is, but, you know, it's like... it's merciful not to have to watch it, right?

[skinandbone]

"Aw, no one's going to fight up here. And if one does break out, it probably won't roll up here. We're fine."

But it's very sweet of Jason to worry. Metody breaks the edge off of a cookie, and nibbles at it.

[personaldemon]

Jason sneers at Metody's dismissal, a fine curl of the lip. The effect is somewhat ruined by his hair covering half his face.

His palms are a little sweaty. He rubs them against his thighs. The first players are coming out, doing warm-ups, tossing the ball back and forth, doing whatever stupid shit they do. He watches the lines on the court.

It's all up to him to save the school and save the world.

"..do you have any more cookies?"

It's hungry work, okay.

[skinandbone]

"Lots."

He passes over his bag. He's got a ziploc each of chocolate chip and oatmeal, a bottle of diet caffeine free cola, a lunch cup of mandarin oranges and an orange that is starting to dry out, because he carries this food back and forth, going around everywhere with it, and never actually eats it.

[personaldemon]

Jason grunts a monosyllabic noise that is probably 'thanks' and starts rummaging. Apparently one crayon ring = as much food as is worth eating, in his particular economy. He pulls two more of the chocolate chip cookies out and studies the quasi-withered orange. The skin's getting a bit leathery.

"You've got a mummy orange."

[skinandbone]

It's a fair trade. Making a crayon ring is easily as involved as making a batch of cookies, right?

"Ooogh...yeah. I keep meaning to throw that out. I wouldn't eat it, if I were you. It's probably gone bad inside."

[personaldemon]

This prompts Jason to cup both hands around the orange and lift it up to his face, like a... a really poor man's crystal ball. He stares at the orange at Super Close Range, eyes gone unfocused, lips moving a little in inaudible mutters.

"No. No, this is perfect," he informs Metody earnestly after several seconds of this, and cradles the orange to his chest in case Metody's thinking of taking it back.

[skinandbone]

"...."


"....please don't eat that. You will probably get sick."

[personaldemon]

"I'm not going to eat it," Jason says with some frustration, loud enough that a few students several bleachers down turn to glance up at the odd couple.

"It's a symbol," he says, lowering his voice to a hiss. "Sympathetic magic?!"

[skinandbone]

Look, guys, he's not with - okay, he's with him, but this isn't his fa- not with-with him, not like that, but he's also not with h- no, wait, he's really with him, in a social sense, but he's not with-with him. Okay?

He's in physical and social proximity, without any implication of a closer relationship, but he's just as confused by Jason as any one else.

"You mean...like the color? It's energy and enthusiasm, isn't it? And oranges are a symbol of long marriages, I know that, that's why brides carry orange blossoms."

He eyes Jason, utterly lost. With or without him.

[personaldemon]

Have that blank, wordless stare again. Jason treats Metody to ten seconds of flat regard (why is he talking about brides, what even), and then swivels emphatically about to face the basketball court again, hands clutching the orange in his lap.

"No."

[skinandbone]

He's really trying, okay?

"Oh. I'm really confused. What do you mean? I don't understand."

[personaldemon]

Jason's jaw clenches several times. Whether this is frustration or just a nervous tic (and he does have quite a few of those) is up for dispute.

"Look," he mutters, pointing one pasty-pale finger down at the court, where the big orange ball is being bounced around in practiced dribbles.

"And it's the sun. And this is solstice," Jason tacks on, because it has just occurred to him that Metody might not actually know it's solstice.

He tries really hard to keep up their quasi-friendship, forgiving Metody such laziness.

[skinandbone]

"...but...that would make Stretch Johnson the chariot of the sun. Except he's already been fouled for carrying twice this season, and I heard that if he did it a third time, he'll be benched, and so he's not going to be carrying anything if he knows what's good for him."

[personaldemon]

Jason, being Jason, has no idea that Stretch Johnson is the team's forward, or what a team forward is, or what a foul for carrying is, or anything else Metody just said.

A stare of mutual incomprehension happens again.

Jason does what he's fairly good at doing with things that don't obligingly fit into a worldview colored by too many fantasy novels, too many hours on Internet forums, and some possible delusions: he ignores what Metody just said.

"It's dead but it has the seeds of rebirth," he says Seriously. He's talking about the orange, not Stretch Johnson. Probably. "You were meant to give me this today. It's the weapon against the dark."

[skinandbone]

They're getting really good at those stares.

"But...it's a navel orange. It doesn't have any seeds, just another teeny orange inside. And probably also mold."

[personaldemon]

"MOLD IS LIFE TOO," Jason snaps, jaw working again. Students crane back to look at them once more. He scowls, and lets go of the orange long enough to flip off a blonde girl.

Deeeeep breath.

"Look, it's a symbol. You can't pick stuff like that apart too closely, okay?"

[skinandbone]

This is why Metody isn't popular. His friends.

He gives Jason a rather wide-eyed look that shades into horror when he flips off the girl. Oh. Oh, golly.

"Okay. So it's a symbol of the sun?"