Pocketful of Punches [Sarah Crestwall]

Theme Song: Koala's Lament by Lovage

       ...Thankfully, the boy's legs were close enough together that it wasn't like Sarah would find herself looking up his kilt from the low angle. As Sarah got close to the boy, she'd be able to see that he was wearing a... ah. A dog collar, it looked like. And it clearly had a nametag that read:


       But he turned immediately as he heard the girl's footsteps. He braced, his smile still looking deceivingly calm as though he were genuinely happy with himself (and he was).

       "Hey... you look a lot like my boyfriend, you do all this?"

       "Smash?" the boy replied, pointing at himself with a light tilt of his head.

       Apparently, he looked like something of hers. A 'bogfiend'? What was that? He tapped the side of his head, looking upward, trying to unstuck some of the dried blood stuck in his ear. He was having a little difficulty hearing this girl.

       "That's really impressive. I'm still not convinced you're like... maybe a different personality of his... but the hair is all wrong. I mean the color yes but his has texture to it and it's a bit shorter,"---to which, the boy raised a brow. Was... Was she making fun of his attire? Or was she giving him fashion advice? Either way, the boy didn't really see how it mattered and continued to look at the girl curiously.

       "I'm Sarah, and I'd love to find out how you did all this first hand," the red-haired lady said, reaching out her hand. And the boy froze. He looked down at first and then at her extended hand.

       'Oh my God'

       'Does'
       
       'Does she think I was the master of this wall?'

       (Granted, his thoughts were nowhere near as coherent as even that... and also it was more like a cement low wall or a cement bench, but---)

       Immediately, the boy thought of her. The LARGE PINK RABBIT. Ruler of the garden wall. Giver of treats and player of acorns.

       Was this girl looking for praise like unexpectedly was?

       ...

       As Sarah reached out a hand for him, he would reach a hand over hers from his sitting position and show exactly how long his arm was as he... patted her on top of the head. Very solemnly, he gave her a nod of approval, before looking back. He reached for his snack---an untouched piece of jerky, still in its wrapping and handed it to the red-haired girl.

      "Smash."
      ['Good person. Take it.']

Theme Song: Drylands B-them from Nuclear Throne OST

       Red Kind's hair felt pleasant  in the brief patting. It wasn't sticky or stuck together like his usually was at the end of the day. It had a soft bounce to it, springing back up under his fingers. Inwardly, he approved.

       "Thank you! Hey, uh, Tuvlan? That's your name right?"

       The boy's eye lit up and he nodded vigorously in response. He found himself enthralled and the words were soft and questioning, rather than filled with a harsher, staccatoed rhythm that he associated with impending "playtime." He would not think of the word for it, but the boy found himself in a state of being pleased.

        "=)"

       "Is there... is there any reason you keep saying smash, like is that the only word you can say?"

       ...Promptly followed by a small bout of confusion. The boy raised up a brow, tilting his head ever so slightly. His sharp chin wiggled slightly to the right, as though physically chewing a word like a nut.

       He would shrug to Red Kind and himself, not really certain what she meant. Long fingers scratched against the stitches on the left shaved part of his scalp, pensively as he looked into Red Kind's eyes. From her posturing, it would not look like a safe thing to do, the skin barely looking even just healed. She would then find him pointing at her, just above between her eyes, at her forehead.

       "Smash?" he seemed to inquire.
       ['And who are you?']

       ---There would be a lull followed by some groaning. If Red Kind (Sarah) found herself looking back quickly at the boy (Tuvlan), she would see a dramatic change fall over his face. His pupil dilated and his teeth were bared, smiling broadly---frighteningly, and the boy would be on his feet immediately, rising to a full 6'2, just an inch over her. And he looked immensely excited.

       "Oh... FUCKin'... my head!" a voice would curdle on over, "I swear, if I see that shit a---YOU."

       There was anger in the rising kid's face. And the boy reflexively responded by smiling even broader, as impossible as it seemed.

       Perhaps the boy could be a friend. Even a pet.

       But he also might need some... disciplining.

       "I'm Sarah, if that's what you're asking! Sarah Louise Crestwell. But, you can call me Smash-Smash if that helps."

       "Smash... Smash... Smash-Smash?"

       The boy nodded to himself, thinking. It was one of the few times that he had actually exchanged names with someone outside of a classroom. It wasn't unpleasant.

       But "Sarah Louise Crestwell" was sort of long.

       ...Sarah.

       The boy nodded to affirmative, trying to cement this name in his head, when the other student awoke. He stood up, smiling broadly, but Sarah was quick to interject herself between the two, even as the boy began stomping forward towards the guy. He halted, looking at the back of her head, which obstructed him from the "playmate."

       "If you know what's good for you, you'll walk away," she said and the boy watched her, reaching out for his hand, without even looking at him. His gaze would... surprisingly soften.

       "BITCH, I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND THE SITUA---"

       ---A flurry of red streaked forward AS THE BOY CHARGED PAST SARAH. She would see him land practically on top of the fellow accompanied with an incredibly uncomfortable sounding *CRUNCH* and begin wailing his fists at him, clearly taking the initiative.


       Screaming followed promptly by silence. And for once, the boy wasn't quite smiling. Perhaps he recognized the word? Perhaps he recognized it and how it wasn't aimed at him? Or perhaps Sarah had gotten in his way of having "playtime?"

       ---And if she did actively grab his hand, he would have dragged her with him to witness the punching. The look of horror going over the guy's face. But otherwise, the boy would have actually ran past her and she would have felt nothing but air.

       However, If Sarah didn't do anything...

       Whatever face the boy was making would have to be seen another time, as shortly after he charged ahead, he lost himself in the sudden bloodlust.

       "I told you, if you knew what was good you'd walk away. You just can't warn some people, Tuvlan."

       He felt a hand go over shoulder, making the boy flinch roughly, and perhaps Sarah would get the vibe that he was about to whirl about and onto her, but he would stop when he saw her face, his fists still poised over the re-defeated student. His face had taken on a gleeful expression, like a child in an amusement park, but a few new red splotches on his face. But the hand used was, again, the gentle and firm type. Sarah would find the boy pliable in his crouching position as he was turned towards her, rather clumsily turning himself about with his long, squatting legs. And then she started to do the slowest headbutt to his forehead...

       ...With her lips.

       It wouldn't have been the first time. He had vague recollections of someone an older looking woman when he was a smaller boy doing it on occasion, when she wasn't yelling. He remembered his first playmate, one with red hair and green hair like his doing so---but that was with blocks and toys and far less crying. And it happened once while Warmth was taking care of him.

       These slow headbutts didn't make much sense to him (they were hardly effective), but they were on par with a real one in terms of pleasantness. One was exhilarating... the other, tender.

       "Thanks for 'defending my honor' or whatever it is that compelled you to bust his face in for using the B word."

       "=D!?"

       He had no real idea what put that on, but clearly, Sarah wanted to "play"---except her hands were mostly at her sides, she was speaking calmly, and her expression was equally so. The boy seemed to register this as something akin to Rabbit's extension of her hand for rewarding---the same sensation seemed to follow after it.

       The boy had already long forgotten the original intent, as though a switch had been turned on and off within a matter of seconds. He looked up pleased at the "slow headbutt," but ponderously so.

       "You like to fight huh? Or is it more like you just happen to fight a lot?"

       "Smash! =D"

       He smiled broadly at Sarah, in affirmative. Perhaps at one, perhaps at both...

       Speaking of...

       The boy slowly stood up, rather refreshed. He pointed finger at her and then himself, and then punched into his fist into his left palm a few times for emphasis. Sarah would perhaps not realize this, but this was a rare invitation to "play." As well as an offer to refuse.

---

Habit(s) Observed:

-Tuvlan can enter into "Playtime" whenever cursing is used angrily. His focus will be the original curse-speaker(s).

-Tuvlan can enter into "Playtime" whenever there is loud shouting. His focus will be on the original shouter(s).

Lesson Learned:
-"Slow Headbutts" do not require "Playtime." Probably.