[COLOR=GRAY][hr][CENTER][img]https://i.imgur.com/4TsfIrH.png[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=#D90037][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]The Minotaur/Trial Campground - Southern Plateau, Dundas Island[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=#D90037][b]The Homecoming Trials #1.49:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Honestly, Just More Tea[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=#D90037][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]Katja [@Zoldyck] [/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=#D90037][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]The "Tea" in Team Spirit[/I][/right][/SUP]
[INDENT]Trevor looked beyond Trace, not even acknowledging their existence. He waved at someone before walking away. [COLOR=#D90037]“I’m like a meter away from you, wanker. Are you fucking kidding me?”[/COLOR] They glanced at Rory, who became distracted by an American football. The boys turned white when Trace tried to employ them beyond just continuing their two-man circle jerk. They bit those words on their tongue, knowing better than to dig their heels into the situation. It was useless. Neither of them was smart enough to comprehend what Trace was asking. They would just do it themselves.

Of course, when they turned around to help the wheelchair girl, they found her being wheeled away by someone that Trace had never seen before. [COLOR=#D90037]“What the hell?”[/COLOR] They extended their arms in exasperation. [COLOR=#D90037]“Who the hell is that? And we’re all okay with them taking her?”[/COLOR] No one seemed to acknowledge or show panic during this entire interaction. Even their leader Bill, or whatever, seemed to be nonplussed by this development. Meaning that this person was either a part of Blackjack, or the school was fine with vagrants running off with their students. 

Trace sighed, watching everyone pair off. Fine. Fuck it. They’d just assemble this goddam tent themselves, and whoever decided to sleep with a ghost, could join. Now to find a spot that was at least decently flat. That’s what a tent needed, right? A flat spot? Not too much wind. Not too much sun. Not too much… [COLOR=#D90037][i]fuck if I know.[/i][/COLOR] 

They were in the midst of rubbing their brow when a shadow leered over them. It wasn’t hard, really. Trace was only about five feet and some change. It didn’t take much to overshadow them. A tenacious blow-up doll had more length on them than the young Brit. They turned on their heel to see Katja. Hadn’t she gone to partner up with Cass? They looked beyond her and didn’t see him amongst the others milling about. Their eyes met Katja’s. 

[COLOR=#D90037]“Oye, don’t worry about it Katja. I meant, like, for flatmates. We shouldn’t be swappin’ clothes here in the tent. I’d love to partner up.”[/COLOR] They paused. [COLOR=#D90037]“But weren’t you talkin’ to that blond-haired wanker earlier? He turn you down?”[/COLOR] As soon as they said those words, they figured that had to be the case. They knew how shitty that felt. [COLOR=#D90037]“I wouldn’t worry ‘bout him. He’s probably scared that he might utter ‘step on me, mommy,’ in his sleep. He looks as milquetoast as they come—a right, proper crybaby. So, let’s get this tent set up.”[/COLOR] They smiled at Katja, trying not to make it seem haunting. Though—everything they did was a little haunting.

[COLOR=#D90037]“I meant to ask yah, if it isn’t personal or anythin’, but what’s your power? Feel free not to answer. I get that not everyone has an interestin’ ability. We can’t all turn things to ice or fly.”[/COLOR] [/INDENT][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR]