Stronger than Some // Roleplay with Crocs

((Because you asked why))
((txet sesrever taht etisbew a otni tsop golb siht deggulp I ezilaer ot elihw elttil a uoy ekat lliw ti ekil tsuj ,oediv siht ni ta gnikool saw I tahw tuo erugif ot elihw elttil a em koot tI))

((… tsop siht fo eulav OES eht niur t’nseod ti sa gnol sa ,lleW ?huh ,revelC))

((.ti evol I .errazib oS .gniyfsitas dna gnitsugsid strap lauqe s’ti dna esrever ni gnitae elpoep fo oediv a edam tsacdaorb skcuB eht, haey ,yawynA))

"Silas is here. So is Jackie. Everyone else…they're members ya never met." Khione said, unfolding her legs without difficulty and climbing out. She didn't stretch this time, just shook one of her legs, before waiting for him. "Mr. Yamoto liked you. You were the only kid who wasn't a goddamn friend."

((I hate you and I hate how easy it is to read that))

It was his time to stretch, putting his long arms out as far as they would go and listening to them crack.
"It's cause I'm the only person who hadn't tried to steal from him," he pointed out, walking around the car and heading towards the store.

“Hm. Point.” She said, nodding once in agreement. “One of the Reaper rights of passage is stealing somethin’ from the store, taking it to another member as proof, and then returnin’ It without gettin’ caught. Gets harder and harder the more you fail.”

"Yeah, I watched that happen more than a couple of times," he said, opening the door and listening to the bell above his head jingle. The noise carried with it a wave of nostalgia.

It was junior year for Raymond and senior year for Khione. At that point, the Panthers had started pressing for more territory and had taken over the one basketball court in their area. Khione took him to Yamoto's for some ice cream and to talk to Silas about what had happened. While they were talking, Yamoto saw Raymond's face as he picked out a chocolate tub and had the boy tell him everything. The next day, two basketball hoops had been put up in the back lot and that was where he played from that day on.

"Are the hoops still in the back?" Raymond asked when he snapped out of his stupor, turning to his friend with a wishful look on his face.

(I'm taking my impatience to the next level)

((IM AT SCHOOL))

(>:))

((I will answer next period I swear))

(No, don't get in trouble. I'm just trying to be annoying)

Khione's steps faltered for a split second. It was barely noticeable, unless someone was looking directly at her. "They are." She hadn't let anyone take them down. The one time Mr. Yamoto had proposed it to her, she had told him there was no way they could take them down. Other kids might need them, and admittedly, she didn't want to take them down. It was one of the last things that Raymond had loved that she had. "You remember the Kaitlyn I was talkin' about? I've been teachin' her how t' play. Gets her away from Karver Street." Karver Street was the street most dealers lived on or worked from, and too often the foster kids and teens that frequented the streets found themselves there. Khione even had, at one point.

"Is she here tonight?" he asked as he looked around the store. "No offense, but you were horrible at basketball."

The store had hardly changed since the last time he had been there. The 2nd drink fridge's light still flickered ceaselessly, the floor was still stained from various high-jinks that they had done, and the racks that held the food were still rusted and worn. Raymond felt like he was home again, even if his old home was down the street, to the left, and up about 7 stories.

"She is. The cops let her off tonight. Somethin' goin' on up at the Hills." She said, arching a brow over at him. "An' I knew the basics, I just couldn't figure out how t' actually play the game. Theory, not practice. Read every book I could on that damn game."

"Frost! Think fast!" Those three words were the only warning, before a brightly colored can of some drink came flying at Khione, at a slightly dangerous speed. She didn't even blink before catching it, looking it over before tossing it back to the boy who'd thrown it, nodding at him. He grinned, disappearing as Mr. Yamoto came down the aisle, yelling in Japanese. Entirely for show, but the recruits didn't need to know that.

"Did I hear Frost?"

Raymond couldn't help but flinch when the can came flying through the air, raising his hands over his face for a moment before realizing it was all staged.

"Hey, Mr. Yamoto," Raymond said sheepishly, once again realizing how long he'd been gone when he noticed the extra wrinkles on the old man's face.

Mr. Yamoto paused, blinking in surprise at Raymond before grinning. "Ah! The basketball boy is back! You have been missed here, Raymond! Young Kaitlyn sure could have used your skills. Khione is not much of a teacher! Go check in the register, there is a surprise for you." With that, he was gone, continuing after the boy.

Just as he disappeared, a girl rounded the corner, brown hair pulled back into harsh boxer braids. Her face was covered in piercings, as were her ears, and the edges of some feathered tattoo peaked out from the sleeves of her tanktop. Kaitlyn Maritza was taller than Khione by around seven inches, and despite not looking it, was only a junior at the high school Khione and Raymond used to go to. "There you are!" She greeted, voice rich and yet just as deep as one would expect from her appearance, a light Italian accent clinging to her words. "See? Not in jail. Stop worrying." Her eyes finally alighted on Raymond. "Dios mio, is that him?"

Raymond watched the old man walk away, wondering what had been left for him at the register. The sound of a new person's voice averted his attention away from the register. Seeing the girl's facial expression and what he could only guess was an exclamation of surprise made him blush slightly. This was the first time meeting someone who only knew him from TV.

"You told people about me?" he asked Khione, glancing over at his long-time friend.

(Ooooo, I have an idea)
(So, like, what if Kaitlyn is the one who tells Raymond about how much Khione likes him? Like, she walks off to talk to Silas and leaves the two of them to play basketball, and that's when Kaitlyn tells him)

((gfdghjjh that's such a kaitlyn thing to do. hell yeah))

"We gotta take pride in something. You're the only one of us who's ever made it all the way out." Khione said with a shrug, looking away. She moved to look over the shelves, searching for a particular snack she had been craving.

"Talks about you all the time." Kaitlyn added unhelpfully, arms crossed over her chest as she shot Raymond a wink. "Your recent game, how good at ball you are, things ya guys did when you were high schoolers."

"You've been using my old court, right?" he asked, studying her body for a moment. Strong lower body, long arms, and good height for a girl. She had the physical attributes to be a good player, at least. "Did you bring a ball? I'd like to see how good you are."

Kaitlyn lit up at that, her sort of imposing expression melting away into a grin. "I got one out back, yeah. Dude I would love to play you!" She pulled something out of her pocket, tossing it to Khione, who caught it. "Catch ya later, Frost!"

Khione shook her head, pocketing the item she'd been tossed. "Go easy on him with the trash talk, ya menace."

Anyone who's ever watched Raymond play basketball, they would marvel at the seemingly complete understanding of the game. You have to literally force him to make mistake. Every step was made with a purpose, every dribble was deliberated, and each time his arm reached out on defense it always seemed to come back with the ball.

"Maybe I should just give you a few pointers," he said as they walked into the back lot. "I don't think a game is a good idea."

"Ugh, but that's no fun." Kaitlyn complained, already removing some of the jewelry she was wearing, mainly the large hoops dangling from her ears. "Actually, I'll take what I can get. Just holding a ball around a pro seems like a literal dream. You and Frost have known each other a while, huh?"

"Feels like my whole life, but we met my freshman year," he said, walking over to the basketball and picking it up with one hand. It was a little flat, but those were the type he was used to playing with. He dribbled a couple of times before shooting it from 3-point distance. It clinked off the back of the rim and rolled over to Kaitlyn.

"God, she must've been even smaller back then. Don't tell her I said that." She said, scooping up the ball and tossing it between her hands experimentally. "What was she like? Same as now? Rico says she started crushing hard like, that year." She didn't dribble, but instead went straight for shooting, the ball rolling around the rim before falling into the net.

Raymond frowned as he walked underneath the net and catching the ball. He stared at it for a second before tossing it back to Kaitlyn.
"Crushing?" he asked, watching her shoot again. Form is decent. "What do you mean, 'crushing?'"

"You know, having a crush on someone." Kaitlyn watched the ball hit the ground a second time, already jogging to grab it. "Like-like? Anyway, Rico says she was like. Full on enamored or something. Heavy duty crushing."

"Nah, no way," Raymond said, shaking his head. "Me and her were-are- close, but I'm not really the type of person she's go for. Or anyone would go for, in fact. He was just yanking your chain."

"Nah, dude. Listen. I've never seen Khione pay much attention to anyone, but family. She showed up here with you, and she keeps a picture of you in her locker at the community center. Like, motivation or some shit." Kaitlyn shook her head, looking over at him. "Rico said she beat Silas's ass when you guys were teens. Over you."

Raymond felt riveted to the concrete after processing everything she had just said. And…she was right. Anytime Raymond ever walked outside, it seemed like she was right there waiting for him. Hell, she missed her own birthday party one time just to watch one of his basketball games. The Silas stuff….he didn't want to think about that. But…a picture of him?

"I never gave her a picture of me," he said quietly, frowning heavily. Basketball was completely forgotten for the time being.

"I never gave her a picture of me," he said quietly, frowning heavily. Basketball was completely forgotten for the time being.

(Thought that would produce a funny story)