Chapter Text
Playground.
A chaotic region to live in, whether it be the people or the environment, both of which were something that a usually relaxed person wouldn't like to live in.
And speaking of chaotic- A loud audience cheered to a fist raised up in victorious pride, the fist in question being Coil’s. The infamous boxer and Blackrock’s most wanted.
He grinned with full teeth, and as the referee let his arm go and the announcers called off the game for tonight, Coil looked over to his opponent who lost.
Steampunk, a good childhood friend of his. She pushed herself up with a groan.
“Good game, ‘punk.
“Shut it.”
Coil snickered as he looked up at the taller woman. He knows she’s pissed off at her 6th losing streak of the week.
Shrugging it off, he quickly went to the locker rooms before any ‘fans’ jumped him for signatures or pictures (in his dreams), and sat down on one of the benches.
Coil rummaged through his bag and pulled out a towel, wiping his face of any lingering sweat. He loved Steampunk, but gosh, she was hard to take down.
He looked up with a sigh as he slung the towel around his neck, before checking his bruised knuckles. They never seemed to heal, not like Coil would let them anyway. That’s just what weak people do.
..He really craved a drink.
—-
Coil walked through the loud and bright streets with his hoodie over his face, holding his bag over a shoulder. He decided to just quickly stop by some random place and grab himself a drink before going back home.
Entering a shop that looked good-enough, bells jingling with his entry, Coil pondered over the menu for at least five seconds before just getting what he wanted.
A blueberry milkshake. Hydrating, and sour for his tough soul. Just what he liked.
He tapped his fingers as he watched the barista working alone for the shift work on his drink. The shop itself was really empty anyway, so it was nothing concerning if only one person was on shift.
After waiting for a bit more, the kind worker passed Coil his drink over. Paying for his milkshake, he made a turn and exited the shop as he sipped on his cold drink.
The weather was cold today. Not like Coil felt it… Not anymore, really.
But he felt the coldness either way. That was off.
The wind brushed against his arm in a way that felt invasive almost. He clutched the drink, flexing his muscle to see if that was just his body messing with him.
It wasn’t. That’s the air. He felt a presence.
He stopped in his steps and looked back, seeing if anyone was following him. The way to Skateboard’s house was a bit of an empty street, and Coil’s gut never lied.
..He sipped on his milkshake very assertively while raising an eyebrow.
“If you’re gon watch me, at least let me know.” He mumbled under his breath with a shake of his head, continuing to walk.
…
There was no sound but the wind. Calm. Nothing ahead of the dark either.
This was weird. He continued to walk.
See, this would've been a very normal activity in Playground. Tons of creeps were around, especially at night and especially in Craterdust, but something else had happened this week.
One of Coil’s necklaces was stolen. Sure, it had no worth, it was only one of his favorite dogtags, but it still got stolen either way.
And even though it’s something small- One of his rings got stolen too. It was a fake, one of Steampunk’s that she didn't really wear anymore, the both of them didn't even wear rings anymore now that they box- but that meant someone was actively targeting Coil.
And he’s been on edge wondering whether it was Blackrock or just some diehard fan that managed to sneak past the security and got in the locker rooms to snoop around Coil’s bags.
Either way, Coil was prepared if they decided to show themselves. He’ll just keep putting props in his bag, over and over, and just watch how it goes.
Stepping up the porch, the fairly small house that he and Skateboard both lived in stood in front of Coil. He pulled out his spare keys from his hoodie pockets and fumbled with the door lock.
He thought about what he should do tomorrow. But he’d rather just.. Focus on the present. Take a nice cold shower and huddle up in his bed.
Stepping foot inside, he perked up as he saw Skateboard lounging on the couch, legs crossed over the table and no shirt on like he paid the rent. Well, they both contribute by splitting it half-half.
“Yo.” “Wassup.”
Just normal, friendly greetings. This was just a normal Wednesday to experience in the house. Coil kicked his shoes off and placed them by the door, next to Skateboard’s own raggedy ass Vans shoes that have been through hell and back with his skating.
“You grabbed any food?” Coil asked the inphernal on the couch. He hasn't eaten much today, and today’s match really took the life out of him.
“Yeah, man, in the fridge.” Skateboard mumbled a reply back through his bag of chips.
Muttering a ‘thanks’ under his breath, he left ahead to go to the bathroom. He’ll take a quick shower, eat whatever Skateboard got for him, and then sleep in for the day tomorrow.
And maybe use his free time to search for that thief who stole his things. It couldn't possibly be Steampunk or any of the other boxers.