Jogging was always best when you had somewhere to go. When you didn't? Well, it was just a glorified treadmill run, wasn't it? Sure, it was outdoors, and the Tennessee spring had been generous as far as the weather was concerned, but the track at George Hunter High School was still just that: a track. As Claudeson Bademosi completed the last of his eight laps around the circuit, he couldn't help but wonder if there were better ways to raise his mood than circling the field after a day of school.
The problem was, when you didn't have anywhere to go, this was the best option!
((Claudeson Bademosi continued from Venipuncture))
This particular Tuesday evening was a rarity for Claudeson. As someone who filled almost all of his spare time with volunteer work and outreach activities, a night with nowhere to go was something that made him feel strange, as though something substantial were missing. Much of the time, he would try and jog from place to place, using the showers in whichever shelter or church he was helping out in during that given night. As of late, it had been one of the few things helping keep his mood above the proverbial water level, and it also had the double-feature of saving a few bucks on gas for his car. But with nowhere to go, he'd been forced to go to the next-best thing: the school track.
As he slowed his pace to that of a walk, he greedily sucked down the cool air that greeted him as a small breeze picked up along the fields. The football team would be practicing on the fields in an hour's time, and Claudeson intended to be well finished by the time they started to arrive. He was on amicable terms with most of them, but most knew that steering clear of the team while they were in their element was a must as far as not committing social suicide went.
Wiping some sweat from his brow, Claudeson strode over to the bleachers where he'd left his knapsack, and pulled his water bottle out of the side pocket. The cool liquid flowed down his throat and rejuvenated him, helping clear his mind and quench his thirst. Not wanting to linger around the track any more than he needed to, Claude picked his knapsack up and slung it around his back, following the natural path towards the side of the bleachers that lead back towards the school. One quick shower later, and he'd be ready for... well, he didn't know what he'd find to do, but he'd figure something out. Perhaps he'd help his mother with a sermon, or - Lord help him, catch up on some sleep?
It was a nice problem to have.
As he crossed between the bleachers and started to head towards the double-doors that headed into the school, something caught his eye. Someone had gone and papered the area with flyers, a lot of flyers in fact. They were minimalist, and seemed to contain a few social media handles, a logo, and a hashtag. Furrowing his brow, Claude walked over to one of the ones posted to the right of the doors, and began to look at it, absently removing the hair-band that tied his dreadlocks together and giving his head a shake to allow his hair to breathe.
"Hashtag Swiftball? Hmm." Claudeson furrowed his brow, and reached into his knapsack to retrieve his iPhone. What on Earth was a Swiftball? Was it a party? Perhaps a charity event or a concert? His curiousity piqued, he fired up his Instagram and tapped in the social media address: @dj_taipan_official. As the account fired up, recognition came across his face. Aha, of course. It was Mikki Swift's Instagram account, one that he'd already followed. They didn't necessarily run in the same circles, though they had worked on several class projects together over the years and often got along well enough. Mikki's vociferous recreational drug use didn't jive with Claudeson's straight-laced nature, but he wasn't one to judge what his classmates did for fun.
Everyone had to find their own path.
His first thought had been that it was a concert, but in fact it seemed as though it was a party. One last bash to end the school year. Claudeson smiled, this was around the time of year that these things would start to occur. If Mikki was flyering the whole school though, this might be a party for the ages. As he stood with his phone out, in front of the flyer, Claudeson started to wonder just how much of the school had been peppered with these flyers.
Was Mikki aware of how big this could get?
Aegis Commission
"Yup, it's gonna be huge," Mikki said, wandering past Claude in one of her best moods.
"See you there!"
((Mikki Swift continued from 'are you having a bad time?'))
It had been a gradual thing. Mikki hadn't literally flyered the entire school in a day, that would have been a fucking nightmare - who even has that time? But in nearly every room, on every board, in every building in the school, the flyers were there. Mikki had finally gotten rid of them all, and now if they wanted info all they needed to do was go to school. For some of the burnouts in this town that was a problem, but if you couldn't be bothered to wander to school, or even talk to someone who goes to school, then you probably weren't worth inviting, sorry to say? Open invites only go so far.
Just as God had rested on his seventh day of creation, Mikki was finally resting. The party itself was coming up real soon, and Mikki had been more than prepared, somewhat to the point of madness. Her groupchat with the rest of Zootopia was constantly going off the hook with her own messages, she was double checking everything in her closet that she'd be bringing over to Forrest's place on the afternoon of the 20th, and the messages with Andy that were once cutesy and encouraging were becoming frantic reassurances demanded by Mikki herself.
And yet, she just couldn't hate any of this. Sure, showing up at someone else's party was easier, since she'd only have to bring her stuff and play what she wanted to play, but every time she made her own party it felt like she was giving birth. It was rough, it was painful, and she'd not be able to stand up afterwards without at least the strongest pain relievers money could buy, but she'd be bringing something into the world that was just as big a part of her as her herself.
That's why, when she wandered along the playing fields and saw Claudeson Bademosi reading one of her flyers and presumably checking up on the party info, she was in a really good fucking mood. Claude got the most of her best mood as she wandered past, and she knew that'd pay dividends. Party people loved a social host, and the ones on the edge got yanked to your side if you treated them right.
Of course, as she wandered by, the good mood began to fade. Mostly, because of a Facebook notification. Katrina had commented on a post she'd also commented on, or liked something, or done something to show up on her phone's notifications for whatever goddamn reason.
Fuck, so much for personal security.
Wait.
Shit.
Fucking security. She hadn't hired a fucking security guy. The party was closing in and she was supposed to get a guy or a girl or whatever was in between to stand around and look tough and make sure sketchy assholes who were obviously not high school seniors didn't get in unless they were appendages to one. And make sure if people started to punch up they would separate it and eject the person who started the whole thing. And make sure nobody was getting sexually assaulted. And all sorts of fun stuff she'd never dream of doing herself because she was a tiny girl in a tall, tall world.
Shit. What was she going to do?
Wait.
Mikki rapidly spun on her heels until she'd done a 180, and ran forward. Her mind wasn't exactly thinking the straightest, although it was still straight compared to most of the student body here.
"CLAUDE!"
She'd come back to where Claude was standing and finding out about the party.
"Claude, shit, hey. I mean, hey. Sorry. That was-sorry. Look, this is super last minute, but like, how would you like to help me out really badly? For the party."
Mikki was leaning down, hands to her knees, taking in deep breathes from the unexpected marathon. So much for finally relaxing. If the first random, tall, wide and intimidating guy with a good conscience and alright morals she'd run into wasn't going to be of any help, she'd go onto the next one. But for the sake of her anxiety, and the sanctity of her sleeping schedule, she hoped he'd say yes.
"See you there!"
((Mikki Swift continued from 'are you having a bad time?'))
It had been a gradual thing. Mikki hadn't literally flyered the entire school in a day, that would have been a fucking nightmare - who even has that time? But in nearly every room, on every board, in every building in the school, the flyers were there. Mikki had finally gotten rid of them all, and now if they wanted info all they needed to do was go to school. For some of the burnouts in this town that was a problem, but if you couldn't be bothered to wander to school, or even talk to someone who goes to school, then you probably weren't worth inviting, sorry to say? Open invites only go so far.
Just as God had rested on his seventh day of creation, Mikki was finally resting. The party itself was coming up real soon, and Mikki had been more than prepared, somewhat to the point of madness. Her groupchat with the rest of Zootopia was constantly going off the hook with her own messages, she was double checking everything in her closet that she'd be bringing over to Forrest's place on the afternoon of the 20th, and the messages with Andy that were once cutesy and encouraging were becoming frantic reassurances demanded by Mikki herself.
And yet, she just couldn't hate any of this. Sure, showing up at someone else's party was easier, since she'd only have to bring her stuff and play what she wanted to play, but every time she made her own party it felt like she was giving birth. It was rough, it was painful, and she'd not be able to stand up afterwards without at least the strongest pain relievers money could buy, but she'd be bringing something into the world that was just as big a part of her as her herself.
That's why, when she wandered along the playing fields and saw Claudeson Bademosi reading one of her flyers and presumably checking up on the party info, she was in a really good fucking mood. Claude got the most of her best mood as she wandered past, and she knew that'd pay dividends. Party people loved a social host, and the ones on the edge got yanked to your side if you treated them right.
Of course, as she wandered by, the good mood began to fade. Mostly, because of a Facebook notification. Katrina had commented on a post she'd also commented on, or liked something, or done something to show up on her phone's notifications for whatever goddamn reason.
Fuck, so much for personal security.
Wait.
Shit.
Fucking security. She hadn't hired a fucking security guy. The party was closing in and she was supposed to get a guy or a girl or whatever was in between to stand around and look tough and make sure sketchy assholes who were obviously not high school seniors didn't get in unless they were appendages to one. And make sure if people started to punch up they would separate it and eject the person who started the whole thing. And make sure nobody was getting sexually assaulted. And all sorts of fun stuff she'd never dream of doing herself because she was a tiny girl in a tall, tall world.
Shit. What was she going to do?
Wait.
Mikki rapidly spun on her heels until she'd done a 180, and ran forward. Her mind wasn't exactly thinking the straightest, although it was still straight compared to most of the student body here.
"CLAUDE!"
She'd come back to where Claude was standing and finding out about the party.
"Claude, shit, hey. I mean, hey. Sorry. That was-sorry. Look, this is super last minute, but like, how would you like to help me out really badly? For the party."
Mikki was leaning down, hands to her knees, taking in deep breathes from the unexpected marathon. So much for finally relaxing. If the first random, tall, wide and intimidating guy with a good conscience and alright morals she'd run into wasn't going to be of any help, she'd go onto the next one. But for the sake of her anxiety, and the sanctity of her sleeping schedule, she hoped he'd say yes.
Claudeson tensed up at the surprise appearance of the very person whose Instagram account he was looking through, and barely managed to avoid a cry of surprise. It was as though he'd conjured her into existence just by thinking about her party and her social media accounts. It was an eerie thought, one that he brushed aside as quickly as it had come about. Of course she'd have been lurking about. The area hadn't been flyered when he'd come out here, and in the intervening hour or so, these things themselves hadn't just appeared out of thin air. Regaining his faculties, he looked up from his phone and gave Mikki a sidelong glance as she walked by, smirking a bit as well.
"Hah! Indeed."
He hadn't intended to say much, or commit to attending one way or another. Parties were often a bit of a luxury, and his volunteer schedule would generally preclude him from staying too long into the night at any particular event that he chose to attend anyway. The sports guys would probably have called him a 'game-time decision' for most things, and that was fine with Claudeson. As Mikki passed by and kept on going, presumably to paper the remainder of the area with flyers for her bash, Claude looked down at his phone, and reenabled the display with a slight grunt of annoyance. The party information post came back up, and Claude scrolled down with one finger, looking at the comments and the likes. It was starting to pick up steam, as a few familiar names and profiles were already hyping the party up in the comments section.
Word travelled quickly around George Hunter High, and the flyers no doubt expedited the process.
Claudeson was snapped out of his analysis of the party post again as he heard his name called, and looked up to see Mikki rushing back towards him, basically gasping for air. That gave him cause for a smirk once more. He wasn't the most apt physical specimen ever, and he guessed he'd probably looked pretty similar after he'd finished his jog around the track, but Mikki was betraying herself as someone who probably only ran when it was absolutely necessary. He lowered his phone and turned to look at the girl, the amusement not remotely hidden.
Her stammered request, though, was interesting. Him? Help with a party of that magnitude? Claudeson couldn't fathom what on Earth he could offer Mikki Swift that she couldn't get from anyone else at the school. Was she expecting to have a religious element to the bash? That would be downright comical, so he pushed that thought away. Perhaps she needed someone to obtain her alcohol? If that were the case, he couldn't think of someone less suited to that task.
So naturally, he was intrigued.
"Help? You know I'm always around to lend a hand, Mikki." He paused, the smile dropping a tad. "Within reason, of course. What do you need?"
"Hah! Indeed."
He hadn't intended to say much, or commit to attending one way or another. Parties were often a bit of a luxury, and his volunteer schedule would generally preclude him from staying too long into the night at any particular event that he chose to attend anyway. The sports guys would probably have called him a 'game-time decision' for most things, and that was fine with Claudeson. As Mikki passed by and kept on going, presumably to paper the remainder of the area with flyers for her bash, Claude looked down at his phone, and reenabled the display with a slight grunt of annoyance. The party information post came back up, and Claude scrolled down with one finger, looking at the comments and the likes. It was starting to pick up steam, as a few familiar names and profiles were already hyping the party up in the comments section.
Word travelled quickly around George Hunter High, and the flyers no doubt expedited the process.
Claudeson was snapped out of his analysis of the party post again as he heard his name called, and looked up to see Mikki rushing back towards him, basically gasping for air. That gave him cause for a smirk once more. He wasn't the most apt physical specimen ever, and he guessed he'd probably looked pretty similar after he'd finished his jog around the track, but Mikki was betraying herself as someone who probably only ran when it was absolutely necessary. He lowered his phone and turned to look at the girl, the amusement not remotely hidden.
Her stammered request, though, was interesting. Him? Help with a party of that magnitude? Claudeson couldn't fathom what on Earth he could offer Mikki Swift that she couldn't get from anyone else at the school. Was she expecting to have a religious element to the bash? That would be downright comical, so he pushed that thought away. Perhaps she needed someone to obtain her alcohol? If that were the case, he couldn't think of someone less suited to that task.
So naturally, he was intrigued.
"Help? You know I'm always around to lend a hand, Mikki." He paused, the smile dropping a tad. "Within reason, of course. What do you need?"
"Okay, so-"
Mikki was still bent over like a dated internet meme, so she readjusted herself to lean against the nearby bleacher frame.
"Okay, so I'll keep it short and stuff. We need someone to stand around and make sure nothing bad happens, or nobody dangerous gets in, like nobody from our school or little kids. Like, security. But, y'know, can't get a real security guard because they cost money, and, y'know, ask questions."
She paused momentarily, but before he could answer right off the bat, she came back in with some imaginary reimbursment.
"We can't, like, pay you money or anything, but I can get you a pizza, or two. And we'll have food there, and drinks, or just food if drinks aren't gonna be your thing. Y'know, whatever you want."
And before he could answer again she reinserted herself with an explanation.
"It's just like, y'know, I left it to last minute and it's happening real soon and I just remembered now and you're, like, literally the first person I saw who looks like they could be it, so it's totally fine if that's not your thing. But if you're not, then if you can think of anyone just let me know."
One last interruption of herself.
"If it's not your thing, I mean."
Please be your thing, Claude.
Mikki was still bent over like a dated internet meme, so she readjusted herself to lean against the nearby bleacher frame.
"Okay, so I'll keep it short and stuff. We need someone to stand around and make sure nothing bad happens, or nobody dangerous gets in, like nobody from our school or little kids. Like, security. But, y'know, can't get a real security guard because they cost money, and, y'know, ask questions."
She paused momentarily, but before he could answer right off the bat, she came back in with some imaginary reimbursment.
"We can't, like, pay you money or anything, but I can get you a pizza, or two. And we'll have food there, and drinks, or just food if drinks aren't gonna be your thing. Y'know, whatever you want."
And before he could answer again she reinserted herself with an explanation.
"It's just like, y'know, I left it to last minute and it's happening real soon and I just remembered now and you're, like, literally the first person I saw who looks like they could be it, so it's totally fine if that's not your thing. But if you're not, then if you can think of anyone just let me know."
One last interruption of herself.
"If it's not your thing, I mean."
Please be your thing, Claude.
Claudeson Bademosi wasn't naturally athletic, by any means, but as he'd started to run in recent months, he'd been pleasantly surprised by how quickly he'd managed to build his endurance. He still wasn't amazing with long distances, but the fact remained that he could get from point A to point B with very little in the way of rest. So to see a classmate bent over, gasping for air and obviously not sporting the same kind of endurance gave him an ever-so-slight feeling of superiority over his gasping classmate. This was not a feeling that he allowed to show, but he couldn't help but feel good about the fact that he would not be caught gasping for air like that after such a short distance.
As Mikki pulled herself together a bit, Claude stepped down off his moral high ground as she started to explain her plight. It seemed that she had forgotten to account for the fact that a party as large as the one she was planning would undoubtedly attract a miscreant element, a fact that probably should have been the first step on her list. Of course, like many teenagers, she had acted rashly, and now she had been forced to go to the unlikeliest of sources: Claude.
He considered her offer for a moment, mulling it around in his head. As it turned out, he was fairly certain that the party fell on another off-day for him, and so were he planning to attend at all, it would be nice to have someone making sure that no drug-addled waste-cases were crashing the party and potentially spiking punch, or worse.
"Well, Mikki..."
He started, but stopped for a moment as another thought entered his head. There were a lot of reasons for him to refuse, but there were a few better ones to accept her offer. He had spent so much time trying to look out for those less fortunate, but what about when he had the opportunity to look out for those that he considered peers - some of whom were even his friends? How could he say no to that.
"I don't drink, so you don't have to worry about that." He paused, hand absently stroking his chin as he contemplated the ask. "I don't mind running your door for you, that's fine. I was probably going to come anyway, and I'm sure you'd like to have someone reliable." There were fewer people more reliable, that he knew.
"The one concern that I do have, and I mean no disrespect by this, but are you intending on having hard drugs at your party?" Claude barely hid his scowl, which instead was more of a serious neutral expression. "I understand the drinking, I didn't just fall out of the sky. But I have a bit more of an issue with harder drugs. I'd just like to know what, if any is going to be present."
An issue? A lot of Claudeson's volunteer work was done with homeless people, and addiction was a leading cause of homelessness in the country. Claude had seen what drugs had done to so many otherwise ordinary people, and the thought of permitting that and being associated with that kind of element almost made him feel ill. Of course, there were certain people that probably deserved to rot on a street-corner somewhere, looking desperately for their next fix. There'd be a certain degree of pleasure in coming across one of Wyatt, Faith, or even Julien in ten years, withered and decrepit, offering sexual favours for a few bucks for their next fix. That was what they deser-
Claudeson shook the thoughts away. No, goodness no. There was not a soul alive who deserved that curse, not even the bullies, the opponents, or the people who had deprived him of that student council victory last year. No, if Claude could help the party be free of hard drugs - or at least moderate what drugs were there, that might be a good enough compromise.
He softened his serious look and almost smiled again as he waited for Mikki's answer.
As Mikki pulled herself together a bit, Claude stepped down off his moral high ground as she started to explain her plight. It seemed that she had forgotten to account for the fact that a party as large as the one she was planning would undoubtedly attract a miscreant element, a fact that probably should have been the first step on her list. Of course, like many teenagers, she had acted rashly, and now she had been forced to go to the unlikeliest of sources: Claude.
He considered her offer for a moment, mulling it around in his head. As it turned out, he was fairly certain that the party fell on another off-day for him, and so were he planning to attend at all, it would be nice to have someone making sure that no drug-addled waste-cases were crashing the party and potentially spiking punch, or worse.
"Well, Mikki..."
He started, but stopped for a moment as another thought entered his head. There were a lot of reasons for him to refuse, but there were a few better ones to accept her offer. He had spent so much time trying to look out for those less fortunate, but what about when he had the opportunity to look out for those that he considered peers - some of whom were even his friends? How could he say no to that.
"I don't drink, so you don't have to worry about that." He paused, hand absently stroking his chin as he contemplated the ask. "I don't mind running your door for you, that's fine. I was probably going to come anyway, and I'm sure you'd like to have someone reliable." There were fewer people more reliable, that he knew.
"The one concern that I do have, and I mean no disrespect by this, but are you intending on having hard drugs at your party?" Claude barely hid his scowl, which instead was more of a serious neutral expression. "I understand the drinking, I didn't just fall out of the sky. But I have a bit more of an issue with harder drugs. I'd just like to know what, if any is going to be present."
An issue? A lot of Claudeson's volunteer work was done with homeless people, and addiction was a leading cause of homelessness in the country. Claude had seen what drugs had done to so many otherwise ordinary people, and the thought of permitting that and being associated with that kind of element almost made him feel ill. Of course, there were certain people that probably deserved to rot on a street-corner somewhere, looking desperately for their next fix. There'd be a certain degree of pleasure in coming across one of Wyatt, Faith, or even Julien in ten years, withered and decrepit, offering sexual favours for a few bucks for their next fix. That was what they deser-
Claudeson shook the thoughts away. No, goodness no. There was not a soul alive who deserved that curse, not even the bullies, the opponents, or the people who had deprived him of that student council victory last year. No, if Claude could help the party be free of hard drugs - or at least moderate what drugs were there, that might be a good enough compromise.
He softened his serious look and almost smiled again as he waited for Mikki's answer.
Holy shit, really? What were the fucking odds on this, the first guy she came across was going to solve her final problem and become the solution. She now had someone to run the door, check underclassmen before they became wrecked underclassmen, and stop any bullshit that would go down. She was about to audibly celebrate until Claude added an addendum about the hard drugs.
Well you see Claude, you've actually stumbled into our massive George Hunter crack orgy and we'll have to make sure you don't speak to anyone now.
That was her first response but luckily she didn't actually say it. It was rude, but still. Claude just pretty much asked if they were going to be doing meth at this party or something, and the thought hadn't even occurred to her to be perfectly honest. She didn't know anyone in her grade who did anything harder than ecstasy and she was pretty much the party queen of the school if you asked any five people, she knew people's vices. Weed, yes; ecstasy, yes; acid, maybe, but hard drugs? Heroin? Bath salts? That one from Russia which ate away your skin to the bone? She wanted people to have a good time, not end up in a crack den somewhere, Jesus H Christ.
"Hard drugs? Shit, no way man, we're here for a good time, not to fuck-not to screw us up forever. Like, there'll probably have some weed there, but that's practically legal, y'know? And like, some people might bring ecstasy but that's their business and not mine, and that's not really a hard drug at all. I'm not gonna be handing shit out or anything, 'cause, y'know, if we get in trouble it's gonna all come down on me and Forrest and Charelle, right? And, like, it'd be pretty stupid to get arrested right before college."
She was actually a little bit taken aback that he'd asked that. He'd probably had more thoughts on her party than she had, to be honest, if you took out all the actual planning stuff. Maybe Claude should host the next one after graduation.
"But yeah, that's pretty much it. That change your mind, or still cool to be all Gandalf for the juniors and stuff?"
Well you see Claude, you've actually stumbled into our massive George Hunter crack orgy and we'll have to make sure you don't speak to anyone now.
That was her first response but luckily she didn't actually say it. It was rude, but still. Claude just pretty much asked if they were going to be doing meth at this party or something, and the thought hadn't even occurred to her to be perfectly honest. She didn't know anyone in her grade who did anything harder than ecstasy and she was pretty much the party queen of the school if you asked any five people, she knew people's vices. Weed, yes; ecstasy, yes; acid, maybe, but hard drugs? Heroin? Bath salts? That one from Russia which ate away your skin to the bone? She wanted people to have a good time, not end up in a crack den somewhere, Jesus H Christ.
"Hard drugs? Shit, no way man, we're here for a good time, not to fuck-not to screw us up forever. Like, there'll probably have some weed there, but that's practically legal, y'know? And like, some people might bring ecstasy but that's their business and not mine, and that's not really a hard drug at all. I'm not gonna be handing shit out or anything, 'cause, y'know, if we get in trouble it's gonna all come down on me and Forrest and Charelle, right? And, like, it'd be pretty stupid to get arrested right before college."
She was actually a little bit taken aback that he'd asked that. He'd probably had more thoughts on her party than she had, to be honest, if you took out all the actual planning stuff. Maybe Claude should host the next one after graduation.
"But yeah, that's pretty much it. That change your mind, or still cool to be all Gandalf for the juniors and stuff?"
Mikki's response to his query was a bit more defensive than he'd been anticipating, but it put his mind at ease. It was a little refreshing that she had admitted flat-out that the possibility of ecstasy or other such 'party drugs' popping up, but if she wasn't intending to distribute or readily make them available herself, that was enough of a loophole for Claude to feel comfortable drifting through. Working the door would prevent a miscreant element from introducing any of that filth into what would otherwise be a pretty solid party.
Shrugging his shoulders, Claude smiled warmly at Mikki. He could see the uncertain stress of having to consider questions that he was posing - questions that she'd likely not thought of before. But true to his nature, he felt good being able to assist her in checking one big box off of her list. He shook his head as he smiled at her.
"No, not at all. I just know that it's the one last hurrah for many of us, before going into the world, and some people might get some funny ideas about wanting to try certain things before getting too old." He paused. "I've volunteered a lot at addiction clinics, and I've seen the damage it can do. I don't mean to offend, I just had to ask."
Looking down at his phone, he checked the date once more, and nodded in acceptance of the position.
"I think you've found yourself a door guardian. Anyone who wants to cause trouble, well..." Claude wasn't usually one for frivolity, but he couldn't resist - the endorphins still coursing through his veins from his run.
"I think they'll find that once they try to get in, they shall not pass." Being a joker wasn't Claudeson's style, but he felt good about helping out a fellow student, and he figured that riffing a little bit might help put the beleaguered Mikki at ease.
Shrugging his shoulders, Claude smiled warmly at Mikki. He could see the uncertain stress of having to consider questions that he was posing - questions that she'd likely not thought of before. But true to his nature, he felt good being able to assist her in checking one big box off of her list. He shook his head as he smiled at her.
"No, not at all. I just know that it's the one last hurrah for many of us, before going into the world, and some people might get some funny ideas about wanting to try certain things before getting too old." He paused. "I've volunteered a lot at addiction clinics, and I've seen the damage it can do. I don't mean to offend, I just had to ask."
Looking down at his phone, he checked the date once more, and nodded in acceptance of the position.
"I think you've found yourself a door guardian. Anyone who wants to cause trouble, well..." Claude wasn't usually one for frivolity, but he couldn't resist - the endorphins still coursing through his veins from his run.
"I think they'll find that once they try to get in, they shall not pass." Being a joker wasn't Claudeson's style, but he felt good about helping out a fellow student, and he figured that riffing a little bit might help put the beleaguered Mikki at ease.
Okay, he earned that smile. She wasn't prone to letting really bad jokes or references or whatever the shit give power over her but it's not like she tried to set it up, she was just being her.
"Alright, thanks so much Claude - I'll message you tonight with all the other stuff you need to know and, like, we can organize everything from there. Cool? Cool!"
And with that mission successful, she turned on her heels with a wave.
"Catch you around, man!"
Mikki started into a light urgent jog like she had somewhere to be, someone to meet, but she didn't have anything urgent to do until the party. Maybe she could see what Andy was up to. Either way, the real good fucking mood she'd started out her rest with had mutated into some kind of supermood, and that was a good mood if there ever was a mood.
She just needed this to bring her through to the party itself and she'd be set until graduation. No more high school stuff, real adult stuff for her. God, to be a real adult in 2018, Mikki could hardly wait.
((Mikki Swift continued elsewhere))
"Alright, thanks so much Claude - I'll message you tonight with all the other stuff you need to know and, like, we can organize everything from there. Cool? Cool!"
And with that mission successful, she turned on her heels with a wave.
"Catch you around, man!"
Mikki started into a light urgent jog like she had somewhere to be, someone to meet, but she didn't have anything urgent to do until the party. Maybe she could see what Andy was up to. Either way, the real good fucking mood she'd started out her rest with had mutated into some kind of supermood, and that was a good mood if there ever was a mood.
She just needed this to bring her through to the party itself and she'd be set until graduation. No more high school stuff, real adult stuff for her. God, to be a real adult in 2018, Mikki could hardly wait.
((Mikki Swift continued elsewhere))
As Mikki thanked him, turned, and sped off in the other direction, a small smile crept upon Claudeson's face. The relief that coursed throughout her body had been palpable, and as she departed the area, he couldn't help but muse to himself how easy it was to change the tone of someone's day. With one small agreement - one small time out of his own busy schedule to help a peer, he'd managed to remove a stressor from a classmate's life. These were the times that Claudeson relished, the moments that he lived for.
To serve - be it serving the Lord, serving your family, or serving your peers, what greater calling was there? As he glanced down at his phone, the #Swiftball Instagram tag still on the screen, he shook his head and laughed to himself. Even while volunteering oneself to a life of service, it sure never hurt to be paid in pizza.
Clicking his phone off, he continued through the double-doors and back into the school, a small skip in his step as he prepared to make his way home.
((Claudeson Bademosi continued in Gifts))
To serve - be it serving the Lord, serving your family, or serving your peers, what greater calling was there? As he glanced down at his phone, the #Swiftball Instagram tag still on the screen, he shook his head and laughed to himself. Even while volunteering oneself to a life of service, it sure never hurt to be paid in pizza.
Clicking his phone off, he continued through the double-doors and back into the school, a small skip in his step as he prepared to make his way home.
((Claudeson Bademosi continued in Gifts))