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Two Teens Fighting
By tinymushyBackup thread
Shroud had been out and about grocery shopping and doing little things and chores here and there to help out his adoptive father, Tommy, at least a bit in order to repay the debt he felt like he owed his father for taking care of him for so long. He was expecting to possibly run into Micheal, Michelle, or Yogurt while on his little trip, so when he heard his name called out, he instantly looked in the direction of whomever called him, only to drop the bags of groceries on the floor when he saw who had called out to him. He had *not* been expecting to see James, if ever again. Silence and staring was the only response he provided the ghost, an unfair anger creeping into his veins as he merely watched.
Shroud slowly narrowed his gaze, keeping his full attention and all of his numerous eyes on James while his posture went from shocked to aggressive, almost cocky in a sense, folding his arms together while doing so. He knew he shouldn't hate James for the fact he hadn't seen him since their young childhood but rather Karl for taking him away suddenly, but he couldn't help but pin the blame on him much like he had done when James first stopped coming around and spending time with him. The spider was still pissed off by that very fact, that much was evident in the way he held himself whilst glaring at the ghost. "What the fuck are you doing acting like we're still friends?"
Shroud only further glared, his expression turning sour and bitter with a scowl as his grip on his own arms tightened in anger. It was a self-restraint tactic he had picked up to help with his anger outbursts, but even that only did so much. "Give me one good reason as to why the hell this would be a joke. I don't even fucking know you anymore, why would we still be friends? That was so many years ago, and back then you just *left*." He grumbled out, kicking mindlessly at the sacks of groceries piled on the floor. He could always buy more, Shroud mentally assured himself, and besides, redirecting his anger to the bags might be more help than immediately lashing out at the ghost.
"Yeah, well, clearly you *didn't*, genius, and you've been telling yourself lies just to comfort yourself. Shoulda known the only thing ghosts are good for is ghosting people," Shroud barked with an accompanying growl, forcefully kicking a one of the grocery bags and watching a bag of flour go flying, leaving behind a floury dust trail as it rushed through the air and crashed against the ground. "Just- fucking- on *Satan*, do you have *any* idea how utterly miserable I was after you suddenly vanished?? I hardly brought myself to eat, much less sleep or play games; James, I was depressed at the age of fucking *seven*, do ya really think I wanna see your face?"
Shroud paused, going numbingly silent as he eerily slowly looked back to James, all sense of his typical logic and social acceptability suddenly disappearing. Before he could even say the letter ''a'', he had tackled James and held him forcibly pinned to the ground under him, practically growling like a rabid dog. He couldn't thing straight, the only thing echoing in his mind being anger, specifically revenge, for the shit he emotionally went through as a result for the very ghost under him suddenly leaving, which is exactly what he planned on getting as he continued to bark out, venom filling every word he spoke. "*Only? ONLY?* You're a disgrace to the kindness Tommy showed you when you know damn well he didn't have to accept you into our home just because *I* asked!"
Shroud hissed out as he swiftly scrambled away upon getting kicked in the stomach. Pain was something he had trouble dealing with, which was why he normally avoided physical confrontation, but if it was necessary, he'd try to make it quick and painless on his part. He spewed out curses in Ender, a language he picked up from his times being babysat by Ranboo or visiting the enderman hybrid, as he clawed his way to hang on top of the ceiling, harshly glaring down at James while he cocooned around himself, becoming a bundle of pure fury and hatred. The only words he muttered aloud in English were "I fucking hate you," and "Go on, cry, I know I certainly did when I was a child."
Shroud only worsened his glare, keeping up his furious front, hiding the painful stinging in his heart seeing the ghost *try* to repair what bond they had when they were little and ask for a second chance. Though, again, Shroud never was one able to handle pain all that well. "Fuck it man, I'm not a goddamned beginner when it comes to this kinda shit! You're just gonna go and repeat it all over again; history repeats itself endlessly, I know that much!" Shroud grumbled out, though his voice wasn't filled with nearly as much venom, instead filled with a mixed concoction of pain, fear, and sadness, James' aura finally starting to get to him, but his glare never let up. It was almost as if he were determined to protect himself from something, possibly any further pain, as he continued to hide inside his hand-made cocoon of hate on the ceiling.
"I didn't know you time travelled in the first place, so how would I know if that's even important to you or not..." Shroud continued to grumble, his voice getting quieter and more emotionally accurate with every word he spoke. The spider gazed sadly down at James, tears pricking the corners of his eyes while his glare dissolved into sheer sadness, "I want to believe you, I really do... But I just... *Can't*..." He muttered out as he finally tucked his head inside his cocoon, staying perfectly silent as he teared up and cried within the thin comfort of his own webbing.
Shroud solemnly hid behind a pair of his hands, peeking out between the cracks of his fingers as every childhood emotion he felt rushed back to him, earning him to choke out a sob. He didn't audibly comment, instead silently staying bawled up inside his own webbing as he continued to peek from behind a pair of his hands. It took him a moment, but he eventually lifted another hand to lightly tap it against the ghosts', letting out a shaky sigh and sniffle as he uncovered his tear-stained face, but he croaked out a quiet laugh to himself. "Damnit, I could use a drink right about now, thanks for getting me emotional, ghost boy." Shroud lightly joked, wiping at his eyes to free them from his saline tears.
Shroud quietly mumbled to himself for a moment, eventually letting out a defeated sigh. "You're lucky I'm used to Yogurt telling me that, otherwise I might be complaining right about now. It wouldn't be for the best to mix emotions with alcohol anyways..." He muttered out while he slowly emerged from his cocoon and gathered up his webbing. What? Just because he was a spider didn't mean he had endless supplies of the stuff; there were limits as to how much web a spider could make, after all, so of course, he was going to reuse it if and when he could. Shroud continued to cling to the ceiling after doing so, though, keeping his eyes on the ghost. "So, uh... What've you been up to all these years...?"
Shroud fell into a thick silence as he listened and merely stared for a few moments, processing what all eight of his eyes were seeing presented to him. "Huh, never took *you* of all people to be the type..." He muttered out as a half-joke, not intending for it to theoretically sound as offensive as it could be portrayed as, hesitating for a second while he thought. The spider let out another sigh once he had come to a conclusion to his mental debate, still tightly clinging to the ceiling while he rolled up a pair of his own sleeves, holding his arms out to show James the painfully mimicking scars on his own appendages. "Guess great minds really do think alike, hah," Shroud tried, sprinkling a little lightly dark humour into their conversation because, well, that was just who he was.
"Hey, hey, hey, it's- it's okay, so you can stop apologizing already..." Shroud whispered in response, wrapping the two arms he held out around the ghost and gently rubbing at his back in the attempt to console him, being mindful of his golden wings much like he did when the two were still little children. He moved another hand to pat the top of James' head, which swiftly turned into gently playing with his hair upon noticing how fluffy it was; he couldn't help himself, don't judge him. "I missed you hellishly too, Jay, but that's in the past now, yeah?" Shroud softly asked, using his old nickname for him in the hopes it would help cheer him up, even if by just a little.
"Fluffy," Was as much of a response Shroud would willingly offer out to explain his actions, continuing to softly play with the ghost's hair while admiring exactly how fluffy in volume it was. "You've floofed up a lot since we were kids." He commented as he pulled his hands away, presumably to respect James' personal space once more, soon after quietly scurrying off the top of the ceiling, crawling his way down an aisle so that he could stand on the ground once again.
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