Work sucked.
((Johnny Silva Ruiz pregame start))
Yeah, real ascendant revelation there. Nobody liked their jobs. Well, maybe some weirdos. The folks liked the part of their jobs that wasn't the work part, so that didn't count. Johnny definitely didn't like his job. 'Sandwich artist' his ass, like anyone actually bought that shit. He didn't even like Subway before this.
Johnny leaned on the counter of the mall Subway. It was a Saturday evening, where he'd rather be doing just about anything else. Work was slow at this point at night, since people usually wanted real food for dinner, but that just meant he was bored and restless instead of dealing with obnoxious customers.
Meh. Had to pay for Sunny's food somehow. Dad sure as fuck wasn't doing it, with how much of a jackass he'd been about even letting Johnny get her in the first place. Pay was bad and he was on his feet all day, but the hours were okay. At least this place was willing to work around his school hours and his soccer games. And he figured having a steady job would look good when he needed to get into college. So it wasn't like he had no reason to do it. It was just that he was trapped because he had to. Fucking fantastic.
Ugh. Johnny sighed and adjusted his stupid hat. At least nobody from school stopped by here today. Fuck, he hated when that happened. In another hour he could go home and just chill. At least he had tomorrow off, and there was a tournament he was planning on going to. That was usually fun. Wow, he sure was being optimistic today, thinking of all these good things. Johnny sighed. Shame that didn't help with the fact he was stuck behing a counter, surrounded by old bread and meat and shit. Pain in the ass the folks were, at least they were good cooks. Johnny, he knew just enough to know that this was all shit.
Jinxed It
Good lord, people still ate here?
((Lucas Brady start-ah da Pregame))
Lucas surveyed the wildlife that inhabited the Subway, his nose wrinkling at the offensive fumes of cheap bread and cheaper people. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place, and you couldn’t pay him enough (not that you could afford to) to justify a trip otherwise.
But today was an exception to the norm. Some of his friends had been insistent that they were craving Subway, and while Lucas had tried to tempt them with a more upscale Italian bistro, he hadn’t been able to budge them. Of course, lunch was his treat, because he was just that nice of a guy and good of a friend, but they could’ve at least accompanied him into the store rather than hanging around outside with each other.
He flinched as some annoying kids brushed past him as he approached the front of the queue. Their sandwiches, dripping sugary, staining sauces, came dangerously close to his cashmere sweater. He had half a mind to lecture them about watching where they were going, but he bit his tongue and just settled for giving them a nasty scowl that accomplished nothing. He was mature, not a grumpy old man.
Looking back around the store as the line moved painfully slow, the concept of table service of course being completely foreign to these people, intrusive memories flashed into Lucas’ mind. He remembered years ago, before the money, coming here with his family after a day’s shopping. Back then he had loved ordering a spicy meatball sub, his palette naïve to what made good food, along with a refreshing root beer. The Bradys would all sit in the booth by the window, and he would people-watch in-between the family banter. He could see them all in their cheap clothes, laughing and smiling. When he tried to superimpose their new, better fashions over them, it just looked alien. Comical, really.
But there was an unwelcome twinge in his heart, regardless.
Finally, it was his turn to order. He looked up at Johnny, failing to recognise him past his little Subway uniform, and reached for his phone. He barely made eye contact with the help.
“Yes, hello. I’ll be taking a to-go order.” He said, looking down at the screen and reeling off the order his friends had given him. “And for myself, a footlong on Italian herbs and cheese with rotisserie-style chicken, Swiss cheese, red onions and black olives with a honey mustard dressing. Please.”
((Lucas Brady start-ah da Pregame))
Lucas surveyed the wildlife that inhabited the Subway, his nose wrinkling at the offensive fumes of cheap bread and cheaper people. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place, and you couldn’t pay him enough (not that you could afford to) to justify a trip otherwise.
But today was an exception to the norm. Some of his friends had been insistent that they were craving Subway, and while Lucas had tried to tempt them with a more upscale Italian bistro, he hadn’t been able to budge them. Of course, lunch was his treat, because he was just that nice of a guy and good of a friend, but they could’ve at least accompanied him into the store rather than hanging around outside with each other.
He flinched as some annoying kids brushed past him as he approached the front of the queue. Their sandwiches, dripping sugary, staining sauces, came dangerously close to his cashmere sweater. He had half a mind to lecture them about watching where they were going, but he bit his tongue and just settled for giving them a nasty scowl that accomplished nothing. He was mature, not a grumpy old man.
Looking back around the store as the line moved painfully slow, the concept of table service of course being completely foreign to these people, intrusive memories flashed into Lucas’ mind. He remembered years ago, before the money, coming here with his family after a day’s shopping. Back then he had loved ordering a spicy meatball sub, his palette naïve to what made good food, along with a refreshing root beer. The Bradys would all sit in the booth by the window, and he would people-watch in-between the family banter. He could see them all in their cheap clothes, laughing and smiling. When he tried to superimpose their new, better fashions over them, it just looked alien. Comical, really.
But there was an unwelcome twinge in his heart, regardless.
Finally, it was his turn to order. He looked up at Johnny, failing to recognise him past his little Subway uniform, and reached for his phone. He barely made eye contact with the help.
“Yes, hello. I’ll be taking a to-go order.” He said, looking down at the screen and reeling off the order his friends had given him. “And for myself, a footlong on Italian herbs and cheese with rotisserie-style chicken, Swiss cheese, red onions and black olives with a honey mustard dressing. Please.”
Fuck.
Of fucking course. Of course Johnny just had to say it and it had to be Lucas goddamn Brady. Peak rich white boy. That was all you had to know about the guy. His entire personality, summed up in a sound bite. And now he was at Subway, where poor immigrant Johnny was working to make ends meet. What was he even doing here? Didn't he have fancier places to eat out at? If there was one thing he'd give Lucas credit for, it was at least he expected him to buy real damn food instead of this slop.
"Welcome to Subway, what can I get you?" Johnny asked briskly for Lucas to begin placing orders. Damn, and of course there was a bunch of stuff too. He was probably here with a bunch of his rich friends. Here to make fun of how quaintly normal folks lived their lives? Whatever. Johnny didn't particularly care about that. No, that was a lie, he did. It pissed him off. Johnny's whole family worked hard as hell for everything they had, and guys like Lucas got lucky and suddenly they had it all. So much for the American Dream his parents were so enamored with.
"Do you want that toasted?" Ugh. Johnny consciously unfurled his brow as he looked back at Lucas. No point getting pissy. He could go home and relax in a little while, so maybe he ought to focus on that. Or something. Once Lucas answered, he finished up the order.
"Card goes in there, use the chip." He tapped on the scanner. Johnny handed the bags of sandwiches to Lucas. Did rich guys actually pay attention to how much money they had in their account, or was it always 'enough'? Johnny had 215 bucks and change in checking at the moment, plus another 1827 in savings. It wasn't much, but it was...something?
"Here you go, have a good night."
Of fucking course. Of course Johnny just had to say it and it had to be Lucas goddamn Brady. Peak rich white boy. That was all you had to know about the guy. His entire personality, summed up in a sound bite. And now he was at Subway, where poor immigrant Johnny was working to make ends meet. What was he even doing here? Didn't he have fancier places to eat out at? If there was one thing he'd give Lucas credit for, it was at least he expected him to buy real damn food instead of this slop.
"Welcome to Subway, what can I get you?" Johnny asked briskly for Lucas to begin placing orders. Damn, and of course there was a bunch of stuff too. He was probably here with a bunch of his rich friends. Here to make fun of how quaintly normal folks lived their lives? Whatever. Johnny didn't particularly care about that. No, that was a lie, he did. It pissed him off. Johnny's whole family worked hard as hell for everything they had, and guys like Lucas got lucky and suddenly they had it all. So much for the American Dream his parents were so enamored with.
"Do you want that toasted?" Ugh. Johnny consciously unfurled his brow as he looked back at Lucas. No point getting pissy. He could go home and relax in a little while, so maybe he ought to focus on that. Or something. Once Lucas answered, he finished up the order.
"Card goes in there, use the chip." He tapped on the scanner. Johnny handed the bags of sandwiches to Lucas. Did rich guys actually pay attention to how much money they had in their account, or was it always 'enough'? Johnny had 215 bucks and change in checking at the moment, plus another 1827 in savings. It wasn't much, but it was...something?
"Here you go, have a good night."
Lucas wielded his American Express Centurion card with ease, paying for his sandwiches with no more thought to the double dollar bill than one would a dollar can of soda. The dingy little machine had probably never tasted something so exclusive before today. Then he was on his way, the doorbell ringing behind him to signal the finished transaction.
Alas, that was not the end of Johnny’s dealings, as Lucas returned through the door not five minutes later. He held a hastily rewrapped sandwich and a forced look of boldness on his face that couldn’t disguise the embarrassment that lay underneath. This awkwardness stemmed from a teasing his companions had repaid him for the sandwiches in, egging him like the contents of one loaf to return alone and correct a misdeed. They claimed he had gotten the order wrong. Lucas disagreed.
Were there a line, Lucas would’ve intended to barge to the front. In reality he would’ve lacked the balls, winding up queuing like any visitor to this slopshop, but he would’ve meant to cut ahead because he was important. In this case it was moot though, as he could walk right back up to Johnny without incident or confrontation.
“Hello, I was just in here five minutes ago.” He reminded Johnny, who was only starting to look vaguely familiar. He held the goods in hand, plain to see. “My friend ordered a ham and jalapeño with mayonnaise on rye.”
A dramatic pause. He wanted to see if Johnny would process his mistake without anything being said. But not badly enough to wait that long.
“You forgot the jalapeños.”
Alas, that was not the end of Johnny’s dealings, as Lucas returned through the door not five minutes later. He held a hastily rewrapped sandwich and a forced look of boldness on his face that couldn’t disguise the embarrassment that lay underneath. This awkwardness stemmed from a teasing his companions had repaid him for the sandwiches in, egging him like the contents of one loaf to return alone and correct a misdeed. They claimed he had gotten the order wrong. Lucas disagreed.
Were there a line, Lucas would’ve intended to barge to the front. In reality he would’ve lacked the balls, winding up queuing like any visitor to this slopshop, but he would’ve meant to cut ahead because he was important. In this case it was moot though, as he could walk right back up to Johnny without incident or confrontation.
“Hello, I was just in here five minutes ago.” He reminded Johnny, who was only starting to look vaguely familiar. He held the goods in hand, plain to see. “My friend ordered a ham and jalapeño with mayonnaise on rye.”
A dramatic pause. He wanted to see if Johnny would process his mistake without anything being said. But not badly enough to wait that long.
“You forgot the jalapeños.”
[PREGAME START: CHEVY GALLAGHER]
"Uhhh...."
In the times of when war should be done and when heroes would be needed to be brought back to life for their necessary battles to Valhalla, there was one who was... unfortunately currently far from it.
Keep that smile up, Chevy! You need that extra raise.
It was currently a Saturday evening and Chevy was doing his part-time job at the food court with people going to Pinkberry to get their frozen yogurt. He should've been looking forward to going out paintballing, but his art history and his natural science classes were making him pull his shirt here. He had to come up with what to write for his essay on that random cursed painting supposedly of Man Proposes, God Disposes. Then, he had to join in on that one group project, where he has to talk nonstop about worms for a presentation, until his head is supposed to cave outward with a splitting headache.
In all honesty on what's happening right now?
He felt sick.
"Chevy!" his manager managed to snap him out of his daydream, so that he can keep his posture upright. Chevy tried to present himself as a military recruit, when it came to his boss. "Yes, sir?" Chevy gave direct eye contact, even though he was tired. "Niles is going to take the register. You're clear for a food break, but be back here in half a hour!" his manager said to him.
Finally. They need to give a guy something to eat on the job.
Chevy was still wearing his Pinkberry uniform after he left the yogurt place. He needed to get himself something he can eat in the backroom, while Niles was still in the middle of during the cashier register.
"Where should I go?" Chevy started eyeing some of the nearby food joints in the court. There was a Subway nearby. Chevy could go for a meatball marinara actually. Subway is also supposed to be cheap.
The doorbell rang when Chevy entered. Before he went to the register, he checked his wallet quick. He needed to make sure he used his credit card and make sure that he can make sure it's swipe-able. He has it in still pristine condition.
This should be eas-
The doorbell rang again. Just as Chevy was about to get to the register, some random boy immediately marched in front of him.
Wait, is that..?
Damn it, it's Lucas! What does he want?
It was Lucas Brady. Chevy unfortunately didn't have a good connection with him. Brady was one of those "new money" people, bragging about how rich he was. Chevy heard that Lucas got all political supporters hungover when he ran for student president.
Now, Lucas was complaining that he didn't have any jalapenos in his sandwich. Privileged dick.
Chevy was forced to deal with Lucas in front of him, while Chevy rolled his eyes at Johnny, behind Lucas's back.
"Uhhh...."
In the times of when war should be done and when heroes would be needed to be brought back to life for their necessary battles to Valhalla, there was one who was... unfortunately currently far from it.
Keep that smile up, Chevy! You need that extra raise.
It was currently a Saturday evening and Chevy was doing his part-time job at the food court with people going to Pinkberry to get their frozen yogurt. He should've been looking forward to going out paintballing, but his art history and his natural science classes were making him pull his shirt here. He had to come up with what to write for his essay on that random cursed painting supposedly of Man Proposes, God Disposes. Then, he had to join in on that one group project, where he has to talk nonstop about worms for a presentation, until his head is supposed to cave outward with a splitting headache.
In all honesty on what's happening right now?
He felt sick.
"Chevy!" his manager managed to snap him out of his daydream, so that he can keep his posture upright. Chevy tried to present himself as a military recruit, when it came to his boss. "Yes, sir?" Chevy gave direct eye contact, even though he was tired. "Niles is going to take the register. You're clear for a food break, but be back here in half a hour!" his manager said to him.
Finally. They need to give a guy something to eat on the job.
Chevy was still wearing his Pinkberry uniform after he left the yogurt place. He needed to get himself something he can eat in the backroom, while Niles was still in the middle of during the cashier register.
"Where should I go?" Chevy started eyeing some of the nearby food joints in the court. There was a Subway nearby. Chevy could go for a meatball marinara actually. Subway is also supposed to be cheap.
The doorbell rang when Chevy entered. Before he went to the register, he checked his wallet quick. He needed to make sure he used his credit card and make sure that he can make sure it's swipe-able. He has it in still pristine condition.
This should be eas-
The doorbell rang again. Just as Chevy was about to get to the register, some random boy immediately marched in front of him.
Wait, is that..?
Damn it, it's Lucas! What does he want?
It was Lucas Brady. Chevy unfortunately didn't have a good connection with him. Brady was one of those "new money" people, bragging about how rich he was. Chevy heard that Lucas got all political supporters hungover when he ran for student president.
Now, Lucas was complaining that he didn't have any jalapenos in his sandwich. Privileged dick.
Chevy was forced to deal with Lucas in front of him, while Chevy rolled his eyes at Johnny, behind Lucas's back.
It's so hard when your on your own
You might fall into the Forbidden Zone
You might fall into the Forbidden Zone
Oh, fuck off.
Look, it was Johnny's fault. He missed an ingredient. Sorry. It happens, okay? But the way this guy was acting? Fuck if he didn't deserve it. Well, okay, it was his friend's sandwich, so maybe that guy was fine. But then again, that guy was friends with this fuck, so maybe he did have it coming. Whatever. Point was, Johnny used to hear all kinds of bullshit about ungrateful customers from the folks, and now he totally got it. This wasn't even the brattiest anyone had been, not by a long shot, but man it pissed him off. A little 'please' and 'thank you' really got a long way, you know?
On the outside, at least, Johnny had to be a bit more tactful, though. He took a breath, counted to five in his head, and said, "Sorry about that. I'll make a new one for you. That was ham, jalapeno, mayo, on rye? Toasted, or no?" At least as soon as he got this over with, he'd be set. The shift couldn't end soon enough. As he turned around and began cutting the bread, he glanced back over. Weirdly, there was actually another person in line. That didn't usually happen this late. Looked like he was technically a competitor at that yogut place. Not that Johnny cared. They were all in minimum wage hell together, or something.
"Sorry, I'll get your order in a sec," he said. Sucked to be the only one at the front right now, but whatever, he didn't like any of his coworkers anyway.
Look, it was Johnny's fault. He missed an ingredient. Sorry. It happens, okay? But the way this guy was acting? Fuck if he didn't deserve it. Well, okay, it was his friend's sandwich, so maybe that guy was fine. But then again, that guy was friends with this fuck, so maybe he did have it coming. Whatever. Point was, Johnny used to hear all kinds of bullshit about ungrateful customers from the folks, and now he totally got it. This wasn't even the brattiest anyone had been, not by a long shot, but man it pissed him off. A little 'please' and 'thank you' really got a long way, you know?
On the outside, at least, Johnny had to be a bit more tactful, though. He took a breath, counted to five in his head, and said, "Sorry about that. I'll make a new one for you. That was ham, jalapeno, mayo, on rye? Toasted, or no?" At least as soon as he got this over with, he'd be set. The shift couldn't end soon enough. As he turned around and began cutting the bread, he glanced back over. Weirdly, there was actually another person in line. That didn't usually happen this late. Looked like he was technically a competitor at that yogut place. Not that Johnny cared. They were all in minimum wage hell together, or something.
"Sorry, I'll get your order in a sec," he said. Sucked to be the only one at the front right now, but whatever, he didn't like any of his coworkers anyway.
((Faith C. Marshal-Mackenzie, start))
Current Mindworm:
What’s he shooting
The student body of Aurora Bay swung by The Promenade food court for two reasons: either to scrimp for the overinflated paychecks that put small business America out to the curb or to smoke away said paychecks out back where the smell of weed and nicotine had settled into the alley bricks. She was quite positive nobody actually ate there.
Go Brandon! For not pressing the stop inflation button on his desk.
Last Chevy had texted her he'd mentioned something about studying a painting for art history class. It sounded like an interesting deal, and she sort of regretted that she'd undercooked her report card for the year and opted for a free period to fit in a morning jog before school. Senioritis before enlistment- many such cases. The way Chevy talked about it he made it sound like an intense class. But most things he talked about sounded pretty cool, down to the dorky movies. That was an objective assessment of his character, her low key simping for him aside.
She knew he was working his shift now, she'd wanted to stop by and hang out while he was eating his dinner shift before sibling obligation meant she had to pick up John from his egghead meets. His coworker had pointed out the nearby Subway, which... no points for taste, but the working class did what the working class had to, to survive. Packing a meal would have been the cheaper option, but no points off.
The Subway's door hummed an artifical note.
"Hey Chevy."
Unlike many other girls- normies, ahem- Faith did not adopt a barbie cadence when talking, even if it was someone who made her heart flutter a bit like her squad leader did (she blamed it on the tat). Her local drawl announced her appearance without much fanfare, like she belonged in that establishment even though she'd never stepped foot in it a day in her short life.
"Just dropped by to hang a bit. And with you too Lucas, sure, I guess." She smirked knowingly as she evaluated her other friend who was coincidentally there. "While you happen to be here." He knew she loved him.
Also, yeah yeah. She could read the room, duh. The dude behind the counter looked annoyed, Lucas looked annoyed but he kind of always did to be fair, Chevy looked annoyed. But none of that was her business until someone made it so, now was it? Normally she was used to someone getting on her case for something or another in the current CCP propaganda influenced Gen Z hellscape, so being the bystander to a devolving situation was a welcome change of pace.
Current Mindworm:
What’s he shooting
The student body of Aurora Bay swung by The Promenade food court for two reasons: either to scrimp for the overinflated paychecks that put small business America out to the curb or to smoke away said paychecks out back where the smell of weed and nicotine had settled into the alley bricks. She was quite positive nobody actually ate there.
Go Brandon! For not pressing the stop inflation button on his desk.
Last Chevy had texted her he'd mentioned something about studying a painting for art history class. It sounded like an interesting deal, and she sort of regretted that she'd undercooked her report card for the year and opted for a free period to fit in a morning jog before school. Senioritis before enlistment- many such cases. The way Chevy talked about it he made it sound like an intense class. But most things he talked about sounded pretty cool, down to the dorky movies. That was an objective assessment of his character, her low key simping for him aside.
She knew he was working his shift now, she'd wanted to stop by and hang out while he was eating his dinner shift before sibling obligation meant she had to pick up John from his egghead meets. His coworker had pointed out the nearby Subway, which... no points for taste, but the working class did what the working class had to, to survive. Packing a meal would have been the cheaper option, but no points off.
The Subway's door hummed an artifical note.
"Hey Chevy."
Unlike many other girls- normies, ahem- Faith did not adopt a barbie cadence when talking, even if it was someone who made her heart flutter a bit like her squad leader did (she blamed it on the tat). Her local drawl announced her appearance without much fanfare, like she belonged in that establishment even though she'd never stepped foot in it a day in her short life.
"Just dropped by to hang a bit. And with you too Lucas, sure, I guess." She smirked knowingly as she evaluated her other friend who was coincidentally there. "While you happen to be here." He knew she loved him.
Also, yeah yeah. She could read the room, duh. The dude behind the counter looked annoyed, Lucas looked annoyed but he kind of always did to be fair, Chevy looked annoyed. But none of that was her business until someone made it so, now was it? Normally she was used to someone getting on her case for something or another in the current CCP propaganda influenced Gen Z hellscape, so being the bystander to a devolving situation was a welcome change of pace.
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Lucas stared at Johnny. He definitely knew him from somewhere. School? Probably school. He couldn’t think of anywhere else we would know someone working at Subway from. That meant he had to play it carefully here. More carefully than he had already, anyway. The last thing he needed was some douchebags at school accusing him of bullying people at the fast food shop by being too mean with his orders.
He was also staring because he had forgotten whether the sandwich was supposed to be toasted or not.
He could have pulled his phone out again, found the order, and confirmed things. But now there was a line forming behind him. And had the phone order even said whether it was supposed to be toasted?
A familiar voice pulled his attention back. Crap: Faith was here? A real double edged sword. Faith was one of the people at school Lucas respected most, mostly because they’d known each other a long time and she had common sense in her views. Kind of a gun nut, but otherwise sensible. She might have taken his side if this situation got out of hand, but he might’ve also put her in an awkward spot with other members of the student body (whoever this Chevy guy was? Oh God, he was wearing a work uniform too. The unions were surrounding him!).
OK, keep it cool. He took a short breath inward. There was always an easy way out of this, he thought, as he cut through the air with his Centurion for the second time in that store.
“I’ll take one of each.” He said to Johnny, “and I’ll treat Faith and – “ he stared at Chevy. Nope, nothing. “- our friend Chevy here. And give yourself a nice tip too.”
There. Flawless. Who could object or think ill of such generosity?
He was also staring because he had forgotten whether the sandwich was supposed to be toasted or not.
He could have pulled his phone out again, found the order, and confirmed things. But now there was a line forming behind him. And had the phone order even said whether it was supposed to be toasted?
A familiar voice pulled his attention back. Crap: Faith was here? A real double edged sword. Faith was one of the people at school Lucas respected most, mostly because they’d known each other a long time and she had common sense in her views. Kind of a gun nut, but otherwise sensible. She might have taken his side if this situation got out of hand, but he might’ve also put her in an awkward spot with other members of the student body (whoever this Chevy guy was? Oh God, he was wearing a work uniform too. The unions were surrounding him!).
OK, keep it cool. He took a short breath inward. There was always an easy way out of this, he thought, as he cut through the air with his Centurion for the second time in that store.
“I’ll take one of each.” He said to Johnny, “and I’ll treat Faith and – “ he stared at Chevy. Nope, nothing. “- our friend Chevy here. And give yourself a nice tip too.”
There. Flawless. Who could object or think ill of such generosity?
A little line was forming behind Chevy. It looks like Lucas was going to have to deal with some impatient customers or-
Chevy's heart immediately skipped a beat when Faith showed up. Faith Marshal-Mackenzie. Oh Faith... Chevy did admit to himself that he had the romantic interest in her. A girl who happened to know her guns. Actual guns. A gal who Chevy would go out paintballing with, since both of them were living in the thrill of the hunt. Someone with similar political interests in Chevy. Chevy wasn't really in the political side, but she was the type to suit his views.
"Faith? Trying to do a lunch break, before I get back to my shift." Chevy knew that Faith wanted to hang, but Chevy needed his pay for the day. Faith directly addressing Lucas might have caused something, because the rich kid became nervous when seeing both her and Chevy. Chevy already knew that Faith was part of the student government, so Lucas might have been nervous that him acting like an ass could be bad word-of-mouth for the self-centered trust fund boy.
Now, Lucas suddenly said that he's going to treat him and Faith. He is really trying to save a lot of face in front of Faith.
"Uhh... I'm good. I just want a meatball marinara sub. I need to eat before I get back to work. I have to wrap up my shift." Chevy said to Lucas. A simple order should also help the guy behind the counter. He seemed like the same age as Chevy.
Chevy's heart immediately skipped a beat when Faith showed up. Faith Marshal-Mackenzie. Oh Faith... Chevy did admit to himself that he had the romantic interest in her. A girl who happened to know her guns. Actual guns. A gal who Chevy would go out paintballing with, since both of them were living in the thrill of the hunt. Someone with similar political interests in Chevy. Chevy wasn't really in the political side, but she was the type to suit his views.
"Faith? Trying to do a lunch break, before I get back to my shift." Chevy knew that Faith wanted to hang, but Chevy needed his pay for the day. Faith directly addressing Lucas might have caused something, because the rich kid became nervous when seeing both her and Chevy. Chevy already knew that Faith was part of the student government, so Lucas might have been nervous that him acting like an ass could be bad word-of-mouth for the self-centered trust fund boy.
Now, Lucas suddenly said that he's going to treat him and Faith. He is really trying to save a lot of face in front of Faith.
"Uhh... I'm good. I just want a meatball marinara sub. I need to eat before I get back to work. I have to wrap up my shift." Chevy said to Lucas. A simple order should also help the guy behind the counter. He seemed like the same age as Chevy.
It's so hard when your on your own
You might fall into the Forbidden Zone
You might fall into the Forbidden Zone
Man, was half the goddamn school going to walk in on him? Johnny could recognize Chevy from class at least, even if they'd never really talked. And Faith was here, too. God, he didn't like Faith. It was like she'd made her entire personality politics. At least, he was pretty sure she wasn't the type of right-winger to think his entire family ought to be locked up in a jail cell and sent to Mexico. Even though they were Brazilian. Not that facts mattered to people like that.
Okay, hang on, he couldn't get too wound up about just seeing her. "Okay, you'll have to pay for one of them, since that's a new order," Johnny told Lucas. He assumed that went without saying, but some people didn't get how food orders worked, he'd found. Man, was this kid trying to make things harder for him? The tip was nice, at least. As Johnny loaded the first sandwich into the toaster, he got to making the second one.
"I'll get to you in a second," he called to Faith.
Okay, hang on, he couldn't get too wound up about just seeing her. "Okay, you'll have to pay for one of them, since that's a new order," Johnny told Lucas. He assumed that went without saying, but some people didn't get how food orders worked, he'd found. Man, was this kid trying to make things harder for him? The tip was nice, at least. As Johnny loaded the first sandwich into the toaster, he got to making the second one.
"I'll get to you in a second," he called to Faith.
Current Mindworm:
Pulled pork pulled pork pulled pork!
Whoaaaa, pulling out the black card. Faith was skeptical that any of its rich people perks applied to spending a few dozen dollars on presliced meats and cheeses.
"It's fine Lucas, I've already eaten. I'll be sitting this one out." And her wallet, thus, rejoiced. She nodded graciously- at the dude behind the counter, that was, not Lucas. Johnny R? If she remembered right he was on the varsity soccer and had earned some decent scholarships. She nodded at him because he was the person who'd be most inconvenienced by anybody wasting his time. Damn big government minimum wage holding him back from better opportunities, so on.
"And yeah, I know you're busy." She patted Chevy once on the shoulder in sympathy. "I was just dropping by for a bit, I'm picking up my little bro from one of his meets." She was told her eyes always shone a bit when she talked about one of her brothers. Kind of beta coded of her, but an inevitable consequence of believing in traditional family structure in the lord's 2024.
"I didn't know the two of you had become friends." She was either legitimately surprised or just joshing. That depended on the answer to her question, didn't it? Either way she remained chill, body language idle as she glanced between Lucas and Chevy. "When did that happen?"
Pulled pork pulled pork pulled pork!
Whoaaaa, pulling out the black card. Faith was skeptical that any of its rich people perks applied to spending a few dozen dollars on presliced meats and cheeses.
"It's fine Lucas, I've already eaten. I'll be sitting this one out." And her wallet, thus, rejoiced. She nodded graciously- at the dude behind the counter, that was, not Lucas. Johnny R? If she remembered right he was on the varsity soccer and had earned some decent scholarships. She nodded at him because he was the person who'd be most inconvenienced by anybody wasting his time. Damn big government minimum wage holding him back from better opportunities, so on.
"And yeah, I know you're busy." She patted Chevy once on the shoulder in sympathy. "I was just dropping by for a bit, I'm picking up my little bro from one of his meets." She was told her eyes always shone a bit when she talked about one of her brothers. Kind of beta coded of her, but an inevitable consequence of believing in traditional family structure in the lord's 2024.
"I didn't know the two of you had become friends." She was either legitimately surprised or just joshing. That depended on the answer to her question, didn't it? Either way she remained chill, body language idle as she glanced between Lucas and Chevy. "When did that happen?"
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Lucas leaned against the counter as Faith spoke, turning his back to Johnny. Always make eye contact with the people you are talking to, not the service staff.
“Ah, well- I don’t think you could put a formal time on it.” He smirked in response to Faith's question, just a little too hard. “I just think Chevy’s a cool guy, and I wanted to treat you and him as my friends, you know? I would treat-“
Crap. Why had he tried to include Johnny? He didn’t know that Johnny was called Johnny!
“…our friend behind the counter too, but I’m sure there are rules about eating on the job. Hence the tip.”
Wait. Had he confirmed that Johnny was from Aurora High? Would it seem weird to call him their friend if not?
He could feel sweat starting to pool in his pits even as he maintained the mostly relaxed pose on the counter, some locking of the knees betraying the tension. There was also the matter of his friends outside still waiting for him. Were they going to get impatient with him? But if he just left, would Faith and Chevy take offence? OK Chevy was whatever, but Lucas didn’t want him to not like him. Especially after he’d offered to buy him a sandwich! Speaking of which, why were they taking so long?!
“Kind of slow service here, eh?” he said, accompanying it with the most awkward little grin as his fingers clenched his arms.
“Ah, well- I don’t think you could put a formal time on it.” He smirked in response to Faith's question, just a little too hard. “I just think Chevy’s a cool guy, and I wanted to treat you and him as my friends, you know? I would treat-“
Crap. Why had he tried to include Johnny? He didn’t know that Johnny was called Johnny!
“…our friend behind the counter too, but I’m sure there are rules about eating on the job. Hence the tip.”
Wait. Had he confirmed that Johnny was from Aurora High? Would it seem weird to call him their friend if not?
He could feel sweat starting to pool in his pits even as he maintained the mostly relaxed pose on the counter, some locking of the knees betraying the tension. There was also the matter of his friends outside still waiting for him. Were they going to get impatient with him? But if he just left, would Faith and Chevy take offence? OK Chevy was whatever, but Lucas didn’t want him to not like him. Especially after he’d offered to buy him a sandwich! Speaking of which, why were they taking so long?!
“Kind of slow service here, eh?” he said, accompanying it with the most awkward little grin as his fingers clenched his arms.
Wait? When the hell have Chevy and Lucas been friends?
A real friend wouldn't act like a douche to other people.
Jesus, Chevy hoped this random kid behind the counter can get himself a drink afterwards or an extended break next time.
"I wouldn't use the term friends. We're simply acquaintances." Chevy said to Faith, so he can get Lucas to not attach himself to the Chevy. Chevy flashed some eye contact to the kid behind the counter. He was trying to get those sandwiches done, and he has to deal with Lucas doing line gridlock at a Subway. Chevy might be a minute late when he gets back to Pinkberry. Trying to do his best in body language, Chevy attempted to give the message of, "I wish you didn't have to deal with this jackass, because I know you want to go out of work to get beer." towards Johnny.
Did he even get the message, Chevy didn't know.
Nevertheless, Chevy's sandwich might be done and he should take Lucas to the side to get him from not getting yelled at from some other impatient snob.
A real friend wouldn't act like a douche to other people.
Jesus, Chevy hoped this random kid behind the counter can get himself a drink afterwards or an extended break next time.
"I wouldn't use the term friends. We're simply acquaintances." Chevy said to Faith, so he can get Lucas to not attach himself to the Chevy. Chevy flashed some eye contact to the kid behind the counter. He was trying to get those sandwiches done, and he has to deal with Lucas doing line gridlock at a Subway. Chevy might be a minute late when he gets back to Pinkberry. Trying to do his best in body language, Chevy attempted to give the message of, "I wish you didn't have to deal with this jackass, because I know you want to go out of work to get beer." towards Johnny.
Did he even get the message, Chevy didn't know.
Nevertheless, Chevy's sandwich might be done and he should take Lucas to the side to get him from not getting yelled at from some other impatient snob.
It's so hard when your on your own
You might fall into the Forbidden Zone
You might fall into the Forbidden Zone
"Oh come on dude, I'm fu-ugh." Johnny interrupted himself just as his voice began to rise. Temper, temper, his folks would say. Ugh, they could suck it. How they put up with people being way shittier than this, he had no goddamn idea.
Man, he was the only one in the front, he had to remake an order because fucking Lucas gave him like five different things to make, he was rushing but the fucking oven was slow, and now he was the one getting called out? Man, that pissed him off. Faith at least wasn't ordering, and Chevy was just kind of quietly waiting, so it was only one, but man did that one rub him the wrong way. Still, the last thing he needed was to get in trouble for fighting with the customers.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Here, your order's done." Johnny restrained himself from taking more than a 20% tip as he finalized the order with the correct ingredients. Lucas would probably start griping about it if he did something underhanded like that. He forced a smile to Lucas. "Have a nice day," he said. Ugh.
"Okay, what did you want?" Johnny asked Chevy.
Man, he was the only one in the front, he had to remake an order because fucking Lucas gave him like five different things to make, he was rushing but the fucking oven was slow, and now he was the one getting called out? Man, that pissed him off. Faith at least wasn't ordering, and Chevy was just kind of quietly waiting, so it was only one, but man did that one rub him the wrong way. Still, the last thing he needed was to get in trouble for fighting with the customers.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Here, your order's done." Johnny restrained himself from taking more than a 20% tip as he finalized the order with the correct ingredients. Lucas would probably start griping about it if he did something underhanded like that. He forced a smile to Lucas. "Have a nice day," he said. Ugh.
"Okay, what did you want?" Johnny asked Chevy.
“Kind of slow service here, eh?”
Faith didn't bother to disguise the side-eye she shot at Lucas on that beat. Crinkly smile, all lip like she'd chugged a full bag of Sourheads in one gulp. "God damn man, hide your power levels better." That sort of expression. She knew Lucas wasn't exactly in with the mystical and arcane ways of people who weren't pre-approved for credit cards nintey-nine percent of Americans had never heard of. He might never have been, even before his family's windfall. That was part of his charm as a long standing member of her social core, but a cringe moment was a cringe moment and Faith wasn't going to be a typical chick and smile off something that deserved a bruh or ten.
That said, she didn't really have anything to actually say. She was, again, enjoying the moment out of the limelight.
Current Mindworm:
Green 'at his best' when he's 'connecting' with working class people - Sky News Australia
Not to be a giga trad but, uh, Chevy smelled great. Probably wasn't wearing anything in particular and that didn't matter. Basking in his presence was an okay way to pass her time while she waited for the dudes to figure out how to ripcord out of their terminal velocity awkward.
Faith didn't bother to disguise the side-eye she shot at Lucas on that beat. Crinkly smile, all lip like she'd chugged a full bag of Sourheads in one gulp. "God damn man, hide your power levels better." That sort of expression. She knew Lucas wasn't exactly in with the mystical and arcane ways of people who weren't pre-approved for credit cards nintey-nine percent of Americans had never heard of. He might never have been, even before his family's windfall. That was part of his charm as a long standing member of her social core, but a cringe moment was a cringe moment and Faith wasn't going to be a typical chick and smile off something that deserved a bruh or ten.
That said, she didn't really have anything to actually say. She was, again, enjoying the moment out of the limelight.
Current Mindworm:
Green 'at his best' when he's 'connecting' with working class people - Sky News Australia
Not to be a giga trad but, uh, Chevy smelled great. Probably wasn't wearing anything in particular and that didn't matter. Basking in his presence was an okay way to pass her time while she waited for the dudes to figure out how to ripcord out of their terminal velocity awkward.
Upcoming:
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1
Second Chances V3 (deconreconfirmed):
Relations Thread!
Olivia Fischer (original handler, Maraoone)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Faith Marshal-Mackenzie (original handler, Frozen Smoke)
Memories: 1 Pregame: 1
Sayuna Lewis (original handler, Cicada)
Princess McQuillan (original handler, Cicada)
Pregame: 1