Chapter Text
Trophy held his breath. He didn’t want to make any noise at all.
A pink butterfly slowly flapped its dewy wings open and closed from its resting spot atop a yellow Chrysanthemum.
Its colors were vibrant, mystifying; stark against the bright spring green. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint what specific species of butterfly it was, though.
Surrounding the sight was a dense field of other multi-colored flowers, ranging from bright pinks and oranges to soft yellows and whites. Truly, it was a frozen moment in time; still, quiet, only the susurrus of the rustling plants and the curling wind reminding Trophy that there’s a world outside of his camera lens.
Click!
The moment of when his finger pressed on the button to take the photo was too fleeting. He wished everything his eyes laid upon could be immortalized similarly to the simplicity of the camera. He can touch the Polaroid pictures he prints out with those amazing moments inked onto them, can feel them underneath his skin as he drags his finger across it, can feel like he’s there again, can almost smell the dew on the grass and hear the sounds of nature, can touch the essence of the moment itself. It wouldn’t be remembered any other way.
Trophy had the touch of gold, and he knew it — he just needed something to act as a conduit.
Hence, the camera.
Click!
The flowers were pretty.
Yes, pretty. Trophy’s not a girly dude, but he can appreciate something for its aesthetic value, especially wildlife. Dolls, jewelry, dresses? Hell no. All of that was just cutesy and artificial garbage. But nature? It holds an effortless natural beauty that humans can’t replicate. Only idiots would think otherwise.
Unfortunately, he’s pretty much surrounded by idiots. Y’know, living in Hotel OJ and all? With the same people who voted him out for some silly picture?
Click!
Standing up, Trophy let go of the camera and let it hang off the cord around his neck, looped around the device. He carefully took the developing Polaroid pictures and placed them in his pocket.
He stretched his arms above his head and tilted his head up to the sunny sky.
Many of the other Hotel residents were also outdoors, enjoying the sunshine and the cool breeze. Lightbulb and Test Tube, for instance, although they were out in the Perilous Forest collecting samples for another one of the geek’s experiments or something like that. As usual, they were very loud, leaving the Hotel earlier than he had. Somehow they actually seemed excited to go; hell, Lightbulb was practically bouncing off the walls!
Trophy, on the other hand, would probably never go into that place willingly — not when it’s literally named the Perilous Forest. Ominous much?? He isn’t stupid, after all. There could be wild animals, or crazy homeless people with radio transmitters and paralyzing tasers in there! He doesn’t want to break anything of his, whether that be his bones or his camera.
Yin-Yang was lurking around somewhere with a net, trying to catch butterflies, being obnoxious as fuck. The Cherries must’ve also been with them — they never missed an opportunity to go outside and shed off their extra energy after being cooped up all day. They were being unsuccessfully homeschooled by Paper, but Trophy was pretty sure OJ would eventually cave in and send them to a real school (despite their contracts with MePhone4 forbidding it, because technically even though he started another season, Season Two was still ongoing. But everyone knew it was bullshit, so what was the point?)
One person he knew wasn’t enjoying the warmth of the day was Tissues. That lazy son of a bitch blamed his inability to get up off his ass on his condishawn, and then proceeded to turn on the TV to full blast volume as soon as Trophy was not even halfway out the door. Trophy tried to urge his disgusting roommate to at least do something productive if he wouldn’t go outside or exercise, but he never fucking listened.
Trophy was sure there were some other people out and about, but he didn’t really care. In fact, he had come to this particular spot to get away from all of them.
He was farther out from Hotel OJ, almost near the cliff, where the flowers that were sparse and few around the front of the Hotel bled into a meadow. It was a bit of a hike, but for the love of the S*n was it worth it. He had taken some of the most stunning sunset photos here, and it was especially beautiful under the light of the Moon.
Not many of the other residents knew about this place — what with their tendencies to shut themselves into their rooms (cough literally half of the Hotel cough) or glue themselves on a couch with a game controller (cough hack Pickle cough) or obsessively clean like an OCD freak (COUGH HACK SOAP COUGH COUGH), or any other stupid-ass habit.
So without the worry of other people, all he had to concern himself with was periodically reapplying his sunscreen and how to get the best shots of the butterflies that fluttered from flower to flower. He had even begun to be able to identify the different types of plants and bugs, and would finally be able to test his abilities!! That’s what made it so peaceful; he was away from the nuisances, from the idiots, from the people who would never just listen to him, completely alone.
Well, at least he thought he was alone.
It seemed like a certain knife guy had decided that Trophy didn’t get to have one fucking moment of peace and quiet, because there he was, his eyes closed and sitting underneath the shade of a tree on the outskirts of the woods.
Did someone tell him, or did the annoying bitch just follow him? Trophy decided it seriously didn’t matter, and began stomping over to where the man was, though still gingerly avoiding crushing any of the flowers or bugs; so really it was more of an awkward, angry stumble. The area Knife was sitting at had a patch of somewhat sparse orange and blue flowers.
As he got closer and closer, he noticed the earphones in Knife’s ears, the wire winding down to the grass and plugged into his phone, blasting whatever shitty heavy metal band he thought was good.
“Hey!” Trophy snapped as he eventually stopped in front of him.
Knife immediately grimaced. He reluctantly opened his eyes, and the look on his face, one of exasperation — as if he wasn’t the one that was baiting Trophy in the first place?? — was tempting him to punch him right there and then.
Knife reached for his phone and paused his music.
“What do you want, Trophy?” he grumbled.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Did you follow me and think it would be funny to annoy me while I was taking pictures??”
Knife really had the audacity to look irritated at his words. “Really? Of course I didn’t follow you. Suitcase told me about this place.”
Trophy clenched his fingers into a fist. He had left the girl alone for the most part the first time he’d spotted her, but of course she just had to go blabbing to everyone on the whole goddamn island about the flower meadow.
“Well in case you didn’t notice, I’m already here; I’ve been here. I don’t give a fuck about what that bitch said, so you better leave.”
Knife bristled and glared at him, seeming genuinely angry. “Don’t call her a bitch.” Was Knife really defending her? He could laugh if he wasn’t so pissed. “Unlike you, she wasn’t the third person eliminated out of twenty other people, so I’d watch what you say.”
Okay, now that struck a nerve. Trophy was getting more and more ticked off by the second. Why the fuck did Knife have to ruin everything?
“Why do you even care? I’m actually surprised that you’re not playing with that stupid ass Dora doll right now.”
“Really? You’re still hung up on the doll, of all thing?” Knife stood up, bundling up his earphones and sticking them in his pocket alongside his phone. “Stop picking a fight every time you see me, Trophy. It’s getting old.”
Trophy stepped forward, gritting his teeth. He clenched his hands into fists, his nails digging into his skin.
He just couldn’t get one fucking moment of peace, huh? From Tissues being especially pathetic and irritating that morning, to that infuriating group of Test Tube’s friends rubbing in his face their main character energy… to finally having some tranquility taking pictures of flowers in peace… and now, Knife encroaching in on his own space and insulting him. What did he even do to deserve this!? Seriously!
“Oh, I’ll show you picking a fight,” Trophy spat, flinging the words like poison at Knife’s feet.
He raised his fist.