The Clear Difference Between Cats and Wolves comp

@Kyle DeRook

Gem was pleasantly surprised when he heard twigs snap behind him, and a voice with a nice hostile ring to it. Had to have been Kyle, his voice really matched his face. He turned, the cigarette sticking out of his mouth, both eyebrows raised in question.

“Mm? Oh, Kyle!” He’d been practicing talking with a cigarette in his mouth, it ended up being pretty easy after some real focusing. Now, he didn’t even really need to think about it! “Sit.” He patted the ground beside him, reaching into his pocket to pull a cigarette and a lighter out, holding the fresh ciggie out to the suspicious newcomer.

He wasn’t sure if Kyle was attempting to establish a sort of dominance between the two, but Gem wouldn’t mind letting him think he was the alpha. For him, it never really seemed to matter who came out on top, it was too much work to worry about winning when you could lose and carry experience from it. It was really corny, but he’d been told that by Leland– and if Leland said it, it was probably true.

“If you’re worried about me planning on settin’ you up, don’t flatter yerself. I don’t think I could break a bone and not complain about it for years, and no one really wants that, aye?” He smiled, taking the cigarette from his mouth, holding it between his middle, index, and thumb. He blew a thin veil of smoke out on the lake, looking back up at the roughed up boy beside him, getting a real note of the way he carried himself. Certainly one of the bad boy types, not too different from the ones back at home, except this one could do magic and probably kill someone without panicking. He smirked at that thought, but only a little bit.

“How’re the games goin’, then? I don’t know much about quidditch, but you do. Roarin’ lions, huh?” He grinned, sucking up some more of that sweet nicotine to calm his nerves some more. He didn’t want his mouth to get the better of him, he knew Kyle would land a punch on his face without the bat of an eye.

@Kyle DeRook

Gem watched Kyle stuff the cigarette into his coat pocket, glancing back off across the lake. He'd remembered saying that the water was beautiful, and then his friend said he was gay for saying that. He had no idea what was gay about saying water was pretty, but maybe it was. Maybe he was gay for saying that.

Oh, so he was taking the captain and coach lead, huh? Interesting. It was like watching a gruff dad speak about his two sons, proclaiming the fact they'd never, ever fail, no matter what. He wondered how he'd act around his kids, if he ever had any. He'd probably beat them senseless if they spoke out of turn.

"Kyle is for the parents. Lads back home call me Rook."

Gem lifted his head a bit, turning it to face the blue-eyed brute next to him. He almost wanted to smile, and he did, a bit, the corners of his lips flipping up a bit. Maybe it was fond, but it was more of a smirk than anything. He wasn't letting down any walls yet, that'd require him to be prepared for some roughing up... he was too tired for that, today.

"Is that an invitation, laa?" He mused, pressing the cigarette back between his lips, flicking his lighter on and off, rekindling the flame that had blown out of his poison due to a small breeze. "Right, then, Rook. I'm Gem, an' you can call me Gem. The kids back n' Sheffield called me... hm, gay, fag, birdboy, idiot-- ye know, the classics?" He winked at him, pulling his knees back up to his chest. "Me cousin would bully em' back, though. Charlotte? She'd beat the devil outta them. Got e' strongest fists I've ever seen, she does. I'm a bit scared of what she's able to do. Y'know, one time, she broke a kid's elbow over her knee. If that doesn't make ya raise a brow, I dunno wot will."

He squinted, thinking about how she really liked to pick to people, watch people be picked on. Christ, if her and Kyle spent any time together, the school'd be in shambles. He almost grinned at the thought - almost.

"Say, ya haven't happened to 'ave met her, have you?"

@Kyle DeRook

"Alright Smolach, Up on yer feet. Here's whats gonna happen,"

Oh no, that put a bad taste in his mouth. Watching Rook stand up and get in some fighting stance or whatever - that scared the shit out of him, he wasn't sure what he was trying to do, but when he elaborated, he sort of froze up. Man, he couldn't just make friends with one wack job without them doing whacky shit? Of course not.

"Ehm, is this some kinda test of yours, mate? Cos... if this is joost an excuse to beat me up, I'm- aw, fuck it." He stood up, flicking the bud of the cigarette off into the lake, making a few steps towards the slightly taller boy in front of him. Man, this kid had problems. Had he ever heard of therapy? Considered it, maybe? He looked down at his hands, all bony and faintly muscular because of all the guitar he played. He was a little guy, Kyle was a huge sunuvabitch. One hit in the face, and he would be a vegetable the rest of his life. He knew it.

"Uh... right. All right, I'll..." He pressed his lips together, curling his hands up into a tight fist, keeping his thumb outside so he didn't break it if he hit Rook too hard. God, that sounded funny. Hitting Rook too hard, he almost grinned, yeah, right.
He remembered watching his dad fight someone at a bar cause they'd called him something he didn't like, and he went at them like a wildcat. All bite, no bark-- well, maybe some bark. There was a lot of cussing. With an anxious exhale, he adjusted his fingers, trying to think of some motivation that he wouldn't make an ass of himself in front of someone he was attempting to be friends with. He remembered how Charlotte taught him, put half your weight into your legs, and the other half into the punch, and it should be fine. Don't lose sight of your target unless they're quick as balls, in which case, you need a gun. He could basically hear her voice in his head, the snorty giggle, and then her punching him right in the face afterwards.

So, he did just that.
He twisted his arm a bit, aiming right for wherever Rook had slapped - his cheek - and there it was, the collision was jarring, that was for sure. He hadn't ever really needed to hit someone, he was quite good at choking or punching people in the throat hard enough to get away, but in the face? He'd never ever done that. It sent prickles down his arm, made his muscles tighten up for a second, and he even winced. Damn, were his bones made of iron or something? Should he even apologize? He should apologize.

"Hey, I'm - I'm sorreh, I-" He didn't even know what to say, he felt kinda... bad. Though, at the very same time, it sent a rush of excitement down his spine and even had him grinning, no matter how badly his knuckles ached from that. Fuck, wait, that actually did hurt a lot, what?

@Kyle DeRook

For a second there, Gem thought Rook might actually show him mercy and --

No.
Those things about your vision going all blurry, the stilling shock of a punch in the nose - it was all true. Immediately, he felt wetness drip down his top lip, his hand flying over to cover his nose. Shit, was it broken? What would he do if his nose was broken? That'd be horrible. He'd keeled over by that point, the blood dripping down his wrists, getting the sleeves of his shirt all dirty. He grunted, tears pooling up at the corners of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks involuntarily. It hurt, it hurt like a bitch, but it was also an indescribable amount of fun.

He felt himself smile next, removing his hands from his face. Ow. It was a sinking pain, but it wasn't enough to keep him from getting all excited about it.

"You motherfucker!" Gem wheezed, immediately launching himself right at his new friend, tackling him right down to the ground. He didn't do anything, just kept Rook's wrists pinned while blood dripped down his chin and got all over his shirt. "You nearly broke me nose! How's that fer a first date?!" He couldn't keep from laughing, his head hanging off his shoulders limply. He was probably getting his red mess all over Rook's clothes, but he sort of deserved it.