Friendly for the Wrong Reasons (Veronica)

[Smith Ardor Knight]

"Hm. . ." The gruff looking Ex-vigilante looked out over the waves. He came out for a a drink and a swim only to arrive and discover he had had enough water for the day. He nodded, finding the small cooler of assorted liquor good company. Liquor was rather calming to Smith. Many would look at the larger individual getting drunk on a stump and think he was out for trouble. But he found it more stabilizing, causing him to be less aggressive but more willing to talk. Something he'd have to do every now and then. It was his tranquilizer. And it seemed he wanted some damn tranquility at the moment.

He tilted his head back, listening to the wind hitting the tops of jungle palms as he gauged when he should return. After all, to get to the beach he had to decide against going into the basement, where everyone else would be put after a loss like his own. Smith had caused trouble earlier, and now he was getting away from it. This would give him more than a good day's detention, probably a week if they were really pissed about his absence.

He liked the spot he had picked out. It was quiet. The wind and the sea mist gave an odd mix of warmth and chill. But nonetheless he enjoyed it as it was with a bottle of vermouth. He didn't even know why he had vermouth. Didn't even have a good taste to it. But he wasn't looking to question his alcohol at the moment. He was looking to drink it. 

He set his glass down, wincing a little as his shirt grazed his burnt back. He was alone. there was no point in keeping it on. So he began to take it off, letting the burns feel the ocean mist. "Ahhh. . ." he sighed in relief, "could be worse." He reminded himself with a small chuckle, thinking back to the moment of his drowning. It seemed almost funny at this point. He picked up his glass gladly throwing it back.

[Veronica Knox]

Majority of the student body was on lock down, whether they were participating in the tournament or not. Those who weren’t were currently locked up in the school’s basement. A pure genius must have thought that up as it was perfectly dreadful place and would probably lead to quite a few students getting sick down there. Those who were competing had their own area and were supposed to be guarded until their next match. However, one or two students had managed to escape from their captivity and wander around the grounds. Some with preplanned intentions and others simply looking to get away from the entire event for a bit.

Veronica fell into the second category. After winning her match today she felt a sense of relief and a weight line her stomach. She had proven to herself that she could still fight against these super powered teens, something she had been unsure about. Frankly, it was due to a close friend being so worried about her and planting the thought in her mind that she wouldn’t be able to handle it. Going against his wishes she competed more or less to prove that thought wrong. She could still handle herself and protect her friends. On the other end, her goal was already achieved and now she had to continue. If the next matches were anything like the first, she was in for a beating.

Deciding she was due for a break from her thoughts Veronica silently made her way into the kitchen. She had changed from her tournament uniform into something quite similar. A pair of mesh shorts, a lighter pair of sneakers, a dark tank top and a bag now covered her battered skin. After the nurses had gotten through with her, V had an array of new burn scars covering her thighs and torso. Truly a lovely sight to behold. Added to that her leg was broken, the lower half casted in a thick white mold. It was safe to say she was more than happy that her powers allowed her to skip over the pain aspect, even though it made preventing further injury all the harder.

Once in the kitchen she rewarded herself with a six pack, taking it from the ‘secret’ stash of a few students in a small compartment in the pantry. Normally, she’d for something a little different but with her limited options she’d deal with the beer. Cracking one open, Veronica took a swig and slowly made her way to the beach. By the time she had already had two bottles in her system and was working on her third, enjoying this one much more than the others as a light buzz already set in. Walking alone she was quite content with herself until she noticed that not far off sat a person, a very familiar person at that.

“Long time no see,” She called, nodding a bit to Smith. She wasn’t particularly sure if the boy would want to talk to her at the moment, especially after just losing their match. At the same time, she didn’t particularly want to think about the all too possible negative emotions he was experiencing. “Aren’t you supposed to be on lock down with the rest of the school?” She questioned, coming to a stop a few feet from him. She took another slow sip from her bear as she adjusted her weight to her good foot, her red eyes keeping a steady watch on her ex-opponent.

[Smith Ardor Knight]

"No shit." He gave a short laugh that sounded a bit like a scoff. He picked up another bottle, rotating it in his hands as he analyzed it. He kept his back turned to the girl, showing several scars amongst the burns that covered his shoulders and mid back. It was not a pretty picture.

"Yeah." He stated with a simple sigh, not giving an explanation (to why he wasn't locked in a basement) as he poured another glass for himself now from a new bottle. He filled it about an inch up before setting it down on the spot beside him. "Come to celebrate, huh?" He popped the cork back in the bottle, placing it back in the cooler.

"Taking down a heavyweight like me deserves some celebration." He nodded, solemnly picking up his glass and resting it in his hands. He should've been bitter about her beating him, especially with his freedom being on the line. But the alcohol had a backwards, sobering power to it, pacifying the majority of his disdain.

He lifted his gaze to the water, watching as it would slip up the shore and slide back over and over again.

[Veronica Knox]

Popping an eyebrow, Veronica was a bit surprised that she got such a response from Smith. His normal stoic appearance hardly allowed any wiggle room for snorting. Smiling inwardly, she watched as he poured himself another drink finding the explanation to her silent question. Seems she wasn’t the only one hitting the booze tonight. Speaking of, she took another sip, hanging back for another few moments as she watched him. Her slightly distorted mind taking in the scars on his back, nearly blurting out he wasn’t the only one who was going to be scarred to hell at the end of this. The burn marks covering her midsection, thighs, and splashes along her chest would make sure of that.

Meaning that in a sort of comforting way, highly aware of her own image issues with the scars from her past. However, as she continued to watch him with her head slightly tilted she guessed that he wasn’t the sort that would really need comforting about that of all things. Shrugging slightly to her internal monologue she moved till she was next to him before plopping in the sand. She kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes in the sand, grinning like a little girl as she watched the sand morph around her appendages. “Celebrating? I guess that’s what I’m doing.” She replied with a light shrug, taking another sip from her bottle.

However, the more she thought about it the more she became uncertain. “I get winning was a big deal but I guess I’d feel more like celebrating if it had been without powers. No way in hell I could have managed it but knowing had some skills would make me feel better than knowing I won with some cheap illusions.” She rambled, her free hand drawing circles in the sand. Her words weren’t their normal concise tone, instead they were a little airy and far friendlier in tone, showing how much the booze was beginning to affect her. “Kinda wanted to escape the whole thing. Thinking in general. I don’t like my mind sometimes,” she said softly, glancing up at him briefly before her attention was back to her drawings.

[Smith Ardor Knight]

"Can't blame you for playing cheap." He spoke in a simple tone. He wasn't the type to analyze his company, in fact it seemed he was analyzing his glass more than the girl who had nearly killed him. Something of which, on an average day, could have cost him his life. He said it and meant it, though a large piece of him that couldn't accept the torture that V had so generously provided. It was an unforgettable pain. He felt it had done more scaring than whatever he could've managed.

The slightly drunk Smith turned sober in his speech for a moment, looking to his ex-opponent once more, an odd, childlike smile gracing her features. Had she enjoyed torturing him? "You used more than illusions. . ." He reminded her in an almost pointed tone as he brought the liquor to his lips. "Can't imagine losing with the hand you're dealt." And with that he took a long and well deserved drink. He beared his teeth, making a hissing sigh slip from his throat produced from the alcohol and the seemingly endless pain on his back. He would need to ice it when he got back to his dorm. "You're mind, huh?" He had no clue what the girl had meant by her statement, with something so vague, interpretation could have lead anywhere.