what you are in the dark

[midnight_twelve]

(Fred Hobbes pregame start)

Fred shifted his rucksack off his back and onto the rock beside him, steadying its wobbling to keep its stash from tumbling into the sea. He’d only taken his hand off for a minute before it was subconsciously crawling back up the canvas towards the zip, but he caught it and returned it to his hoodie’s pocket. He was sad enough to drink alone, but not in public. And yeah, maybe it was sad to show up on time too, let alone early, but he’d been bored at home and then his parents had started arguing and he just sort of… wanted to get out of the house. Even if no one showed up for like, another hour, he could still say he “just got there” and no one would be any the wiser.

Besides, he didn’t mind this kind of lonely so much, the kind when you were actually alone. It wasn’t like eating lunch alone in the cafeteria or spending hours alone in your room while your family judged you from the kitchen. In theory, he wouldn’t even have to wait that long at all. The group chat had tentatively arranged to meet in the Willows at ten, but the sorts of people who arrange illegal drinking sessions in dark parks on a school night weren’t usually concerned with punctuality, in Fred’s experience. They probably wouldn’t even all turn up but Fred didn’t mind too much. He hadn’t arranged this gathering, only tagged along, so he wouldn’t take it personally.

He started to get bored, so he -no, leave the beer until they get here, at least say, two of them, so it’s not awkward, so there’s still enough to share like you promised- so he got his phone out and opened Google and-

That wasn’t the only reason he was invited, was it? To bring drinks for-

Fred squeezed his eyes shut, rubbed the bridge of his nose, focused on his breathing and put the phone back in his pocket. Part of him, the coward, wanted to just go home. What was the point in waiting all night anyway? Even if people did show, did he ever feel better after these fucking… whatever? Parties, gatherings, “seshes”? He mainly remembered feeling drained, and that was if he managed to avoid making a fool of himself.

Maybe tonight would be different. That’s what the other, smaller, quieter part said to the coward. Maybe tonight he’d make everyone laugh, kick someone’s ass on the park’s basketball court, hook up with a girl or something. Anything. He just needed courage.

He looked out over the sea, raised a can to his lips, and took that first perfect sip.

[ViolentMedic]

((Roberta Chen continued from Operation Cold Hands.))

Roberta was heading home. She’d mostly been here to look for cool rocks and shells and driftwood and stuff. Roberta liked the sea, and beaches, and stuff. At least, she did when they were quiet, and they tended to be quieter this late.

As she headed up to the park, she turned a neat piece of driftwood she’d found over in her hands. Driftwood wasn’t for whittling, but she liked collecting it when possible. Sea had already whittled it in a sense. She’d made sure nothing was living in it and checked for rotten spots, but it seemed good.

As she only half-paid attention despite how dark it was getting, idly thinking about how she should text her uncle to stop fear of her doing something deliquenty, she eventually looked up to see that she was going to walk straight into a bunch of rocks where some kid was sitting. Squinting, she could make out the face enough to recognise it as a classmate. Finn or something.

Who was just… drinking alone, she supposed. Probably hypocritical to judge.

Roberta slowed down before she walked straight into his rock. A little bit… wary? Jittery? Chill, Roberta, this kid probably wasn’t a Curtis. Way too gangly, for one. And whatever, she could deal with one kid on the beach if he was. Though, just in case… as Roberta approached, she rummaged for her phone to text her uncle her truthful location in case she got shivved or something. Who knew, city this late at night and all.

“Ain’t snitching,” she said outloud as she texted ‘at Willows near sea, omw home’ to her uncle. Maybe she said it a little louder than necessary.

[midnight_twelve]

Fred looked up, startled, when the girl called out.

“Hmm? Oh, hi…” He peered at her and was relieved to be able to say he knew who she was. “…Roberta. You alright?”

That last word slurred slightly into an “aight”, which he decided to blame on just being caught by surprise rather than being tipsy already. He was pretty sure “aight” was something people said normally anyway, but by that point he was probably overthinking it. That was a good sign, if anything. When he actually got drunk he didn’t do enough thinking.

Anyway, Roberta. Roberta was a fellow JEM student, and a classmate in a few of his lessons; she seemed cool, from what Fred could remember about her. Kept to herself mostly, maybe a bit of a troublemaker, or maybe he was getting her mixed up with someone else. Didn’t have any friends in common as far as he could recall. But yeah, she seemed chill. She probably wasn’t the type to be bothered by his drinking, and when he finally registered what she’d said to him in the first place that sentiment was seemingly confirmed. He stared at her awkwardly for another second or two before landing at what he hoped was the right move socially.

“You, uh. Want a beer?” He nudged the bag in her direction.

[ViolentMedic]

“Nope,” Roberta said bluntly.

No, this guy wasn’t giving off Curtis vibes. Just… general dumbass vibes.

It wasn’t her business, it really wasn’t. And honestly, she should just let Finn or whoever make his own mistakes. At least he wasn’t on a roof or actively sitting somewhere dangerous, unless he passed out and then rolled into the ocean. But maybe the whole thing was just… ugh, too close to home?

“Not my business. I know that." Roberta reached up to scratch her ear idly, suffering from her usual case of resting bitch face. "But whose idea was it to drink on a public place on a school night? You think the cops don’t come down here?”

Okay, sure, she had a past of drinking in stupid places. But if anything, that made her an expert on why it was a bad idea.

[RC~]

A scent of burnt marihuana travelled along the sea line.

[midnight_twelve]

Fred shrugged and zipped up the bag.

“Uh, not… mine?” He couldn’t recall exactly who proposed the idea, and figured Roberta wasn’t after the specifics anyway. Whoever it was, they hadn’t deigned to show up yet. He kind of hoped they would soon, because the conversation wasn’t going any less awkwardly than “Fred-meets-girl” normally went.

The law talk in particular was making him uncomfortable. Way he saw it, it shouldn’t be a crime anyway, he was basically an adult and wasn’t hurting anyone or anything, even if yeah, he probably looked a little shady sitting in the dark alone with a hood up. He was a bit surprised that Roberta had even approached him, since this had to be one of the situations girls would actually be justified in leaving him the hell alone.

The point was, there was a lot worse he could be doing than drinking, like drugs or something.












Fuck.











“That- uh, that’s not me. The weed smell, I mean. I don’t…” He trailed off, searching the park for the aroma’s source.

[ViolentMedic]

“Well, they’re an idiot, whoever they are,” Roberta grumbled. “Shouldn’t let them drag you down with them. Tell them to pick somewhere smart. Y’know, tucked away but ground-level and all.”

Roberta recognised the smell the moment it hit her nostrils. Well, weed was basically the same amount of illegal for them as drinking was. At least weed didn’t get people all riled up.

Still dumb to do it in a public park. Pick a dark corner or abandoned lot or something. It wasn’t that hard to find places to hide.

“Ugh,” Roberta grumbled, rubbing her forehead. If someone turned up with some uppers, she was fuckin’ outta here. "Yeah, I know it's not, I can physically see you not smoking, for fuck's sake."

[RC~]

((Quentin B. Skinner continued from his previous thread))

The footsteps stepped closer to the duo in the dark. Soon, the face became visible within the light.

His quiff was stiff, his ears were covered by headphones, droning Ammonia Clouds by Blank Banshee into his brains. Quentin was smiling as he spotted the faces of the familiar voices. If anyone asked what he was holding between his index and middle finger, he would have replied that it was a normal cigarrette. Everyone present knew that was not the case.

"Whuzzup."

Quentin mustered the girl and the boy, both from his school. Geez, is that jock drinking alone in the park? Hah, what a loser. He stared at the alcohol.

"You two partying hard, I see," he said driely.

[midnight_twelve]

Fred cringed.

“Right. Yeah.”

Obviously he wasn’t smoking anything. That did beg the question of who was, a question soon answered with a “whuzzup”.

The stoner who lumbered into view was another goddamn classmate of his, Quentin something. Odd name. What were the fucking chances? He was starting to feel a little overwhelmed, to be completely honest. He’d prepared himself to socialise with friends, not casual acquaintances, and there was a marked difference between the two. These sorts of interactions were like treading on eggshells, second guessing everything you said. He debated offering Quentin a beer. The guy was staring at his can, but he was kind of preoccupied in regards to intoxicants. Besides, Roberta had rejected his offer, and that had left him feeling kind of awkward.

At Quentin’s dry quip, Fred scoffed and glanced at Roberta. They definitely weren’t “partying hard”, but he wasn’t sure how to describe what exactly they were doing. She’d struck up the conversation with him, so hopefully she’d have a better response.

[ViolentMedic]

This whole situation was so awkward that it made Roberta wish that she had grabbed the beer.

“Yeah, it’s a real rave.” Roberta shook her head, then gestured between Finn and Whoever The Fuck. “Well, have fun being arrested. Seriously, Salem’s full of nice, quiet corners and you’re picking right on the edge of Tourism Central?”

She gestured back towards town.

“There’s a bunch of vacant places that haven’t been sold or worked on since Covid. Barely have to climb one fence to get into most of them, if that, and you’re here?”

Roberta’s preferred hideaway was one that still had a bunch of discarded lumber from whatever building project had yet to resume. She was gonna be bummed when they finally got back to it.

[RC~]

Wow, what a fucking weirdo. The dude didn't respond and instead waited for his girlfriend to respond. What a guy!

Quentin sighed at the response of the girl.

"Are you really worried about cops? I don't see any. Do you? If one were to approach me I could easily throw that thing here into the lake, yeah?"

Quentin continued mustering the silent boy. That dude got big eyes. Weird fucking face. No facial hair either.

"Besides, your boyfriend here also doesn't look like he's twenty-one. So what are you bitchin' at me?"

Quentin crossed his arms and grinned smugly, opening his eyes wide open.

[midnight_twelve]

Fred could feel his ears burning underneath his hood. Roberta was treating him like a naïve idiot with an “arrest me” sign on his back, and then Quentin was… well, who the hell did this guy think he was?

“I’m not- she’s not my-”he mumbled. “We’re not…”

Quentin looked so fucking punchable standing there with his arms crossed all smugly. Shame Fred was too much of a coward to start anything. Quentin kept staring at him too, it was making him even more uncomfortable. His fight-or-flight reflex defaulted to its third setting, standing there awkwardly and refusing eye contact.

[ViolentMedic]

God. This fucking guy.

“Y’see this? This thing I did?” Roberta once again gestured at both the boys. “This is a thing that means I was talking to both the idiots here! But this!” She gestured rather strongly at Quentin, moving both her hands like she was imagining putting him in an imaginary box and crushing it with a hammer. “This means that I am now directing my words at you. To ask if you’re a goddamn fucking dumbass moron.”

She took a couple of steps forward in what might have been almost menacing if she hadn’t been five feet tall and surrounded by giants.

“But maybe it’s better to be on a beach where the cops can see you so that they’ll see you flailing around when I shove you in the sea for being fucking annoying!”

Chill. Chillchillchill, but god… Roberta had never been good at that, and this motherfucking guy… that stupid grin, that ‘oooh coward afraid of cops’ the fucking dumbass white boy, and the boyfriend crack just wasn’t even worth addressing.

At least Finn was just dumb, not actively making her want to punch someone.

[RC~]

Quentin mentally prepared to bolt if the girl decided to go violent. Maybe she was under influence, too? Speed? Cocaine? Or maybe she just has anger issues. Teen girls, right?

Though Quentin wasn't exactly sure why he should be scared of a 5 foot girl. Quentin wasn't really impressed and let out a laugh. Her bark is worse than her bite, after all.

"Haha, alright. Okay, okay. I'll just leave you two alone, then."

He winked and then walked past them, into the direction he was heading to anyways.

[midnight_twelve]

That fight-or-flight-or-freeze reflex almost changed its mind to flight when Roberta, for lack of a better word, exploded next to him. She called him an idiot, which was pretty uncalled for in Fred's opinion, but most of the ensuing rant was directed squarely at Quentin. Fred watched, jaw ever so slightly agape, as he weathered her verbal barrage. He almost looked ready to run away too, but Fred couldn’t be sure- reading people was hard enough even when everything wasn’t happening so fast.

Instead, Quentin just plodded off at the end of her tirade, still smug and oh-so-punchable, with a parting wink. Still, it had been pretty satisfying to watch. The bit about throwing him in the sea in particular. Some pun about skipping stones and stoners or whatever crossed his mind.

When Quentin was out of earshot, Fred turned to Roberta and spoke up.

“That was badass, dude.”