SOTF Archive/SOTF Classic

Thomas didn’t couldn’t tell if he had missed something. He had done the only reasonable thing he could think, becoming once again absorbed within his game.

One minute he was settling back into his quest on Onderon, resolving a civil war between the Republic loyalist Queen Talia and the militaristic separatist General Vaklu, and the next he caught sight of some drink flying across the room, from Jeremiah and aimed directly at Nick.

His gaze immediately darted towards Jeremiah, his mouth agape. Thomas spoke before he could even think.

“What the hell was that?”

Nick refused, predictably, making excuses about his current "mood". Theo gave a curt, satisfied nod and quickly messaged his father once more.

Theo wrote: Will buy gifts tomorrow
Nick isn't going

After sending the message, however, his frustration faded, being replaced by a sense of a remorse at his unsympathetic response. It was not as though he himself had not felt such frustration himself, after all. And was it really sensible to try and be more friendly by being harsh? He dashed off another quick message.

Theo wrote: Maybe ask his parents to invite him instead?

He had turned back towards the others and was in the process of formulating an appropriate apology for his behavior when the milkshake finally hit Nick in the back. Slowly facing the source of the projectile, he glared accusingly at Jeremiah. "Was that really necessary? I know you're annoyed, but some of us are trying to rest here." He shook his head in disapproval.

Nick sat up.

Put his legs on the floor.

And stood up.

"You fucking moron," Nick scowled. Now Jeremiah was definitely in the wrong. He was being a bully. And a shite. And a hypocrite. He didn't need to say that. It was obvious. Both Thomas and Theo, at least, seemed to be on his side now. Well, less on his side, more united in thinking that was an unnecessary provocation. At the very least, disproportionate and unhelpful for the peace.

"What is your problem?"

Huh. Hadn't gone this far 'fore now. Hard t' say what t' make of it. Usually the anger came, burned hot, smoked out, left him standin' and shakin' somewhere new if it were real bad. Couldn't figure why it was stickin' around this time.

Mm. He could. Yeah he could. Explained a lot. Why he butt in at all. How Nick got under his skin. Weren't pleasant, and if he went and acknowledged it things weren't gonna end clean. Sumbitch was askin now though'. Nick really hadn't put together Jeremiah knew all about what was eatin' him.

Stood up. Cracked his neck while he walked 'cross the room. Said one word soft and slow comin' up on him.

"Beryl."

After everyone had turned on him, Jeremiah had seen fit to give only a single word, a name, in answer to demands for an explanation.

“Beryl.”

A person in their class. A person Thomas knew, kind of. Looking at the two boys, Tom realized that this was likely tied to some big personal drama that tied the two to the girl. Part of him wanted to ask more, to clear the matter up somehow, but he knew a bit better than that.

This room’s getting a bit hot, isn’t it.

Quickly shutting his laptop and rising from the bed, Thomas quickly made his way to the door. Laughing nervously, he spoke up as he opened the door.

“Um, so, I’m going to go out for a little walk, before I turn in. So, uh… bye.”

And with that he rushed out, quickly closing the door behind him. He let out a sigh of relief upon finding himself alone in the hallway. Interpersonal drama was not his thing.

((Thomas Buckley continued in V7))

Nick scowled at that remark.

Honestly? Beryl had just been collateral damage. Nick could understand why a friend of hers could feel so aggrieved - but the anger was best directed at the situation. Not Nick himself.

It was a low blow, and certainly confirmation that he was now certainly no longer the aggressor. And though Thomas was leaving, he was certainly a witness.

Nick dragged his fingertips across the back of his neck. Sticky with milkshake.

He flicked it at Jeremiah.

"Fuck off, arse waffle."

Somewhat predictably, the situation did not improve. As Jeremiah whispered a name he did not recognize, Nick angrily flicked one of the remaining pieces of milkshake towards Jeremiah. He scowled disapprovingly. Were the others really going to allow this situation to continue? Thomas, at the very least, had the good grace to leave quickly instead of further contributing to the sense of friction. Theo wondered if he anything he did could be useful in resolving the situation quickly.

Regardless, it was clear that staying here was unlikely to be a particularly safe decision, given the ever-present tension around, and trying to intervene would not necessarily help anyone. Watching Thomas leave only confirmed his judgments, and he decided to leave before the situation escalated any further. Nodding coolly at both of them, he picked up his bags and went to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I have some gift-shopping to be doing." And with that, he left the room, wondering which of the nearby gift shops would be better stocked.

(Theophilus "Theo" Walterson continued in V7)

Milkshake dripped down his face. Didn't bother him none. Made him smile a bit even. Chuckled. Couldn't remember the last time he chuckled.

Never a good sign.

'course that was obvious after he reared back and punched Nick 'bout as hard as he could in the chest.

Nick stumbled back. He didn't fall, though. Jeremiah had a fair few inches on him and was no slouch when it came to his build, but Nick was built like a brick shithouse. Physically, that was.

Not emotionally. Emotionally, he felt really upset. That was the real pain. The indignation, the grievance, the exasperation that someone could be so deliberately cruel in such a calculated way. How dare Jeremiah start a fight with him? When he was clearly not in a mood for it? He hadn't asked for this kind of confrontation.

Apparently, though, the other two had predicted it.

Once Nick had steadied his balance, he scowled.

"Oh, you grey cunt."

Then he charged.