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Post by Judd Nixon on Oct 19, 2009 22:22:18 GMT -5
Judd was out of the hospital, thanks to his mother who got him and hauled the flowers home. She thought it was sweet that a girl had sent Judd a beautiful bouquet during his stay.
He would be on crutches while his wound healed. They were a bitch to walk with. He made his way down the crowded halls to his locker, hearing the snickers and whispers from those that disliked him.
He tried to ignore them but the sounds seemed to grow and grow inside his head. He was shaky as he reached for the lock.
Unseen by him, some jock came up behind him and kicked one of the crutches from underneath him! Judd went tumbling to the ground, thankfully not hitting the stitches.
The jock laughed like a hyena at his immature antics. Judd glared at him, his anger erupting like a volcano!
Judd sprang up, as best as he could, and swung his other crutch at the jock hitting him squarely in the back. The jock went down but Judd didn't stop his torture.
"Stop laughing at me! I will fucking kill you!" He screamed getting red in the face. He was about to hit again when a voice sternly said.
"Judd stop it! Put it down!"
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Post by Bartholomew "Mew" Fischer on Oct 20, 2009 19:54:31 GMT -5
Bartholomew was not convinced that Melodee was straight. She had done a decent job of deflecting his questions, but he just couldn't believe that the gorgeous, talented and relatively popular (for a new arrival) Melodee Riker would be lacking in a boyfriend if she was, indeed, interested in men. She may claim not to have time for dating, but if she had really wanted to date someone she would have found the time. The fact that she didn't could only mean that she was interested in girls. Still, if she didn't want anyone to know, then he wouldn't tell; not telling didn't mean not asking Judd, however, because he was certain that Judd would know.
The red-head was waiting at Phil's locker when a commotion further down the hall caught his eye. Well, speak of the devil -- and devil in this case was more literal than figurative, as Judd was furiously attempting to beat someone into submission with his crutches, which, Mew had to admit, was incredibly hard-core and kind of intimidating. Nonetheless, it was probably not a good idea to just sit and watch Judd kill someone, not when he was Melodee's friend. He glanced around the hall, wondering where the rent-a-cops (who'd been infesting the school since the shooting) were, but there were none in sight.
"Judd stop it! Put it down!" He tried to sound authoritative, which was really difficult when speaking to someone who would (he assumed) rather smack him with his crutches than be friends. At least, their last encounter hadn't exactly ended well...but then again, he was still alive, so maybe that was a good sign?
"Killing them'll only get you thrown in jail!!" Okay, reasoning with the crazed-with-fury tough guy might not be the best idea, but he wasn't about to physically step between Judd and the other guy.
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Post by Judd Nixon on Oct 20, 2009 23:35:05 GMT -5
Judd stopped at the voice and slowly turned around at the sound of the voice. He stood and stared for a moment. He looked down at the kid who was in pain, Judd just had to add one more thing to the pain.
A swift kick to the kid's stomach. He moved the good crutch under his arm and tried to regain his balance. A small group of kids gathered around the jock who was aching worse than a red neck after a bar brawl.
His brown eyes shifted back to the red head boy. "He deserves to die, taking out people smaller than him." He spat down at the kid on the floor. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"Why the hell do you care what happens to me anyway?" Judd quizzed the red haired boy. It was about that time the rent a cops showed up taking the injured jock to the nurses office but not before the jock turned around and growled at Judd. "You are dead asshole! Hear me DEAD!!"
Judd scoffed at the threat. He'd been beaten before and it would never be the last time.
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Post by Bartholomew "Mew" Fischer on Oct 21, 2009 19:09:58 GMT -5
"Umm." Mew began uncertainly, "Death seems a little harsh, don't you think?" He could certainly understand the anger Judd felt; he had been the recipient of his share of cruel pranks, and he had fantasized that some of the evil cacti in Tales of Pirates were actually his tormentors. However, actual real life violence was at this point far beyond him. Of course, a fear of physical pain probably didn't help matters. Sure, he was on the swim team, but he'd never been in a fight and wasn't sure he had the guts to do what it took to win. It just wasn't in his nature.
"You're covering for Melodee," He explained, "And we're friends," That might be stretching things a little, as he didn't spend time with her outside of the club, "so umm I care about the friends of my friends." Somehow this reasoning was more impressive in his mind than when he said it aloud; he hoped it made some sort of sense.
He grimaced as the wounded jock was lead away, screaming threats. "Errr, are you okay? Other than the death threats..." He was half-afraid that his concern was going to land him in the same predicament as the jock, but he couldn't see Melodee (or Phil, for that matter) approving should he just walk away from someone in....distress.
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Post by Judd Nixon on Oct 23, 2009 12:02:52 GMT -5
"Sometimes death is the only answer to a constant problem." Judd's words had a chill to them. He really didn't know the other teen or what his story was, nor did he really care. This was survival of the fittest, no matter how dirty someone played.
Judd furrowed his brow. "You care because of someone else? That makes no sense at all." That idea didn't sit well with Judd, which only became worse. "What do you mean covering for Melodee?" The fire was back in his eyes, till his hip started to hurt.
He grimaced. "Yeah I'll be fine, you get used to the threats when you look like me." He was used to being the outcast, he was the bastard, he had lived with it as long as he could remember. This only got worse when his mother remarried and he turned out to be a beer chugging, abusive asshole.
"I appreciate the concern but I can along just fine." He demonstrated this by using his good crutch to pick up the other one. "See? No trouble." Judd was too proud to ask for help on any level, it never occurred to him that Melodee was being helpful to him.
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Post by Bartholomew "Mew" Fischer on Oct 25, 2009 14:41:18 GMT -5
"Errr," Mew shrugged, "Yeah, I see that." He watched as Judd retrieved one crutch with the other, silently impressed. "Just because you can fend for yourself doesn't mean you should have to," He pointed out. Self-reliance was a commendable skill, but so many people felt the need to struggle on alone rather than accept that the people around them not only wanted to help them but could make the struggle easier to overcome. He couldn't force anyone to accept his help, but that wouldn't stop him from extending it.
The red-head had been picked on plenty of times himself, but he had yet to resort to threatening death and destruction upon people over it. Still, he didn't have the same temperament as Judd; the stereotype may have been for red-heads to be fiery tempered, but in this case the stereotype was incorrect.
Still, should he really allow Judd to wander off alone, or should he make one last ditch effort to help? He hovered indecisively for a moment, but the bell rang, making his decision for him; he wasn't going in the same direction as Judd for class. "I guess I'll see you round?" He asked tentatively, as though somehow Judd would actually make any attempt to seek him out, or vice versa. If Melodee wasn't around it wasn't too likely, but maybe he should start trying? As long as trying didn't result in death and pain....two things Judd seemed rather hung up on. "Later."
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