Private Getting Off Track

It could be about anything; essays, shitty wifi, or bell peppers, a lot of Rhett’s thoughts started off along the lines of ‘this sucks’ and out of everything, going to physical therapy twice a week probably sucked the most. Still, it was only thanks to over six months of physical therapy that he could stand up on his own again and walk short distances for short times, at least enough to get around campus. If anyone asked, he could start running again anytime, but he’d also say that he had two fully working legs… Obviously, both weren’t the case, but that didn’t stop him from killing some time by the school’s track.

He sat by the bleachers with his handheld game, wearing track pants and a hoodie in the summer. Exactly a week had passed since the incident in which he came back from the narrow reality with only one fully functional limb. At least he had video games now, the doctor gave him ‘ok’ on screens after a few days. It would be at least another three weeks before the cast on his right wrist was taken off, but playing with one hand, beat not playing at all. While school had just let out, Rhett occasionally looked up from his game to see if anyone else had come. If it stayed empty like this he planned on attempting a few laps while there was no one around to judge.
@Fox Tarts

The loud swearing got Rhett’s attention. He glanced up from his game, curious what awful thing had just happened, quickly realizing there was a bag was flying straight in his direction. With an already nasty concussion, the last thing Rhett needed was another blow to the head. His left arm instinctively swung around, shielding his face, palm facing out just in case there was a chance he could catch the bag. After a few seconds passed with zero impact made, Rhett was in the clear, he lowered his arm. What was the point of enhanced reflexes if they were never put to use. Rhett looked up at the winged kid with a disappointed expression... What was his name again?

“ Oh, hey Micah.” Close enough, he thought. They had met at the community center a little over a week ago, right before Rhett left for his trip home. It was a bit strange that this squirt could remember him at all. It was just a hot minute in the same room, and Rhett had since changed quite a bit, but maybe the mutual loathing of a certain body snatcher was just that powerful. “ So, what are you doing here?"

" You know, next time worry about catching it. I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but my reflexes are pretty fast, used to be really into sports.” Nevermind the encounter with an eldritch god.

“ Right, the stuff they gave baby Jesus.” While Rhett tried to block out any memories of the time he was dragged to a Christmas pageant, a few bits of useless information seemed to stick around. “ I’m Rhett. There’s no catchy way to remember my name, but I’m guessing you’ve probably heard it a few times.” Claiming his name was that well known was an overstatement. If he was particularly lucky, Myrrh only knew him as one of the kids involved in an eldritch ritual and not the reason they couldn’t have nice things anymore.

“ Nah. I’m just messing around. One more blow to the brain and I’m a very tall vegetable.” Rhett gestured with his broken hand. It was hard to pretend that he was fine when his face had splotches of purple, but hey, at least it looked like he was referring to a fight or something cool.

“ Anyways, I’m guessing that means flying for you?” Rhett raised an eyebrow. Myrrh was not the type he’d expect to run into on a track field, he'd never seen a guy so tiny. “ How does that even work? Won't flying in circles make you dizzy?”

Rhett failed to take notice of Myrrh’s legs until it was pointed out. Those sure were bird legs. Maybe his brain blocked those sorts of things out when it could, to keep it from completely imploding in on itself. Manta Carlos was still a lot to take in.

“ So that makes us both built for speed.” He responded with a bit of a smirk. Rhett was just kind of tall.

“ Sounds about right!” Rhett smiled a little. He knew the feeling Myrrh was talking about. It reminded him of old track meets. It’s something like a runners high, except in Myrrh’s case he was already in the high up to begin with. Myrrh was actually a little cooler than Rhett remembered.

“ It’s cool you don’t get dizzy and all, but why the track of all places? Doesn’t it get kinda boring after awhile? Like there’s literally so many cooler places to go.”