Verse Stranger Things - Tumblr Posts
Riff knew what most of Hawkins said about him. He also knew that he didn’t care. Half of the rumors that were circulating about him and the guys were wrong, anyway. He tended to laugh whenever he heard a particularly outlandish one. He had heard, in no particular order, that he and the guys were a cult, that they had a secret underground fighting ring, and that they were responsible for all the drug problems in Hawkins. None of those rumors were true, of course. They weren’t drug dealers. And they weren’t a cult. And they also didn’t have a secret fighting ring. They’d all be a lot richer if they had a secret fighting ring. And Hawkins wasn’t really the place to start a secret fighting ring even if they wanted to, which they didn’t. They were perfectly content to cause trouble and be the local delinquents.
That didn’t mean they weren’t gentlemen. It didn’t mean that when Riff spotted a fight brewing with Chrissy Cunningham stuck smack in the middle, he was going to leave her there. He grinned down at her, watching her fiddle with her purse. “Thanks. Nah, I don’t think so. Just good reflexes.” He dug around in his pocket for his lighter and a cigarette, offering one to Chrissy as he lit his own. “Just be careful next time. I ain’t always gonna be around to play superhero.”
@notefinal asked ❝ i prefer to be called "evil genius" ❞
Normally, Chrissy would have offered a smile while internally rolling her eyes at such a comment, but, well, he had just helped her out. It hadn't been the first time she'd been pulled into the crowd of high schoolers (and some recent graduates) that liked to hang out behind the mall, smoking all sorts of things and drinking whatever could be procured, which meant fights were a common enough occurence. But it was the first time things had started to feel like they were going south too quickly for her to get out on her own before some boys started swinging at each other.
So her smile was wholly sincere, and she might have even giggled at him, fingers fiddling with her bubblegum pink and aquamarine purse. "I'd rather just call you a genius until you do something evil," she decided. Sure, she had heard vague things about him, but it was Hawkins; everyone heard vague things about everyone. It was impossible to know what was true and what was just dramatic exaggeration or flat out lies. "Unless thinking that quick on your feet is evil, now."
Riff didn’t think he’d ever stopped to watch the cheerleaders practice before. He’d never been interested before, but he’d gained some sort of interest in Chrissy Cunningham after he’d saved her that day. So he stopped to watch the cheerleaders practice. He got some weird looks for it, but Riff had been getting weird looks all his life. He was used to it. And it was easy to ignore them when he was watching Chrissy flip and tumble and fly through the air like it was nothing.
He’d almost gotten worried after one stunt had her flying nearly to the ceiling of the gym, but he’d reassured himself that she was fine and she knew what she was doing. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from saying something to her after. “I ain’t sayin’ don’t push the limits. I’m all for pushin’ limits, have you met me? I’m just sayin’, uh. Maybe don’t go so hard that ya pass out. Or somethin.’” Hopefully she didn’t pick up on the nerves in his tone. It wasn’t often that Riff cared about people, but he cared about Chrissy. And he didn’t want to know what would happen if that bit of information got out. He didn’t think it would be anything good, though.
@notefinal asked ❝ don't overdo it ❞
Her head felt light, as it usually did after a good practice, when she was feeling as close to weightless and free as she ever did. Maybe it ought to have worried her, a sign that she was too light, had gone too high when thrown into the air.
Instead she smiled so widely at the advice, his concern noted but tucked away for the time being. "That's the whole point," she told him, nudging his side lightly with her elbow. "To push the limits."
The fact that Chrissy probably knows her own limits doesn’t do much to make Riff’s nerves go away. But then again, he supposes she’s been cheering for a lot longer than he’s been watching her cheer, so his worry is probably unfounded. He glances over at the other girls on the team, flashing them a grin just to watch them try to hide their blushing faces. His grin gets a little wider. “I guess.” Riff wasn’t the type to work hard unless he wanted to. And most of the time, he didn’t want to.
“To the mall? Sure.” He’ll never say no to the mall. He’s pretty sure half the guys are already there, so he can meet up with them if he wants, too. “Who’s car are we takin’?” Riff doesn’t own a car. He can drive just fine, but he doesn’t have a car. Or his license. “Yours?”
Maybe, if it had been someone else, she might have been a little more prickly about such advice. After all, she'd been cheerleading for years, nearly half of her (very short) life. She'd had to learn her body and its limits, and she thought she had it down to a science.
But there was something very... nice, about Riff being concerned. Nicer still that he was even there at all, at school after hours, just to see her at practice. It made her stomach swoop not unlike the throws that had her in the air. "I won't pass out, promise," she said with a bright smile, aware that the other girls were most likely looking over and getting ready to feed the gossip mill, but not finding it in herself to care for once. He was more interesting than them at the moment anyway. "That's why we usually go to the mall after practice. Work hard, play hard, you know?"
A glance over her shoulder and then she was looking back at him, smiling again. "You wanna go, by the way?"
The only reason Riff had good reflexes was because he needed them. Technically, he didn’t, but he never really knew when someone would try to start a fight, so it payed to be alert. He watched the fight for a while before he spoke again. It was a good fight. Riff didn’t know who was fighting or why, but it looked like a good fight. “The middle’s always the worst part.” The middle was where the worst fighting happened. He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with his boot. “Just here.”
He wouldn’t consider himself a superhero. He doesn’t really think he’d consider himself any sort of hero. And, even if he were, it’s not like he’s got anywhere to be the superhero of. Riff and his guys only hang around behind the mall, and that’s not really the best territory to be guarding, especially when the mall itself was right there. “I haven’t found anywhere else yet.”
Truthfully Chrissy had never much cared for cigarettes — she really only smoked while part of the crowd, when it would help her fit in rather than stand out — but she took the one he offered, glad for something to do with her hands and an excuse to stick around and keep talking to him.
"I guess I gotta work on mine, then," she said with a little smile before holding the cigarette to her lips to light. "I'd thought they were better than that, you know, with all the cheerleading but I guess not." She smiled sheepishly at acknowledging that, for the moment not bothered by the fact. Later she'd fret, and make a point of pushing herself harder.
But just then Chrissy was distracted enough by her rescuer for it not to matter. "Next time I'll stay out of the middle." Even if that was usually the best place to be for an aspiring head cheerleader. Sure, one got chosen based on skill and talent, but it definitely helped to be seen and part of the group when she'd be part of keeping the school spirit high.
"You have other places around town to be a superhero at?" she asked, mostly just teasing even if she was genuinely curious about what he normally did.
Riff had no idea what the hell the thing was. It looked sort of like a dog, but only if the dog had somehow managed to fall into a nuclear power plant before making its way to Hawkins. “No idea.” He didn’t feel like sticking around to find out, either. “Come on, let’s go.” He grabbed Chrissy by the hand and pulled her down the street, heading in the opposite direction of the dog thing. He hoped it wasn’t a threat. He didn’t want the poor person whose yard it had climbed into to end up getting hurt.
Once they were safely down the street, Riff stoped to turn back and stare into the darkness. “Should we tell someone?” He didn’t know who they’d tell. And he didn’t think they’d be believed even if they told someone. Riff had a reputation with the cops already. If he went to them talking about a dog thing that had climbed into someone’s yard, they’d never take him seriously.
@notefinal asked ❝ what is that monstrosity? ❞
It wasn't pitch black quite yet, but night came so much quicker and darker as fall shifted into winter. Growing up in Hawkins — and the conceit of being a teenager with her whole life still ahead of her — meant that Chrissy rarely ever thought twice about walking outside after sunset. Especially with Riff beside her, a sort of talisman against trouble as much as he was a beacon for it.
So when the shadow shot past the corner of her vision she was ready to write it off as one of the animals that occasionally strayed into town from the woods. His exclamation made her turn her head and really look, still expecting something like a particularly ugly dog.
The thing running past on the street was definitely not a dog, or deer, or anything Chrissy had ever seen before — it looked like something out of the fantasy books she sometimes got from the library and hid from her mother, except it was too ugly. Barely a step to the side and she was half stumbling into Riff, reaching for his hand but clutching his arm instead. She didn't mean to repeat his question, but it was the only thing running through her mind as it climbed over a fence into someone's yard. "What is that?"