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Tank Grunt - Autumn, Year One - Sim State University
Tank sat with Tybalt playing chess in the common room. He didn’t particularly like chess, and honestly he found it quite pointless and girly—or at the very least, ridiculously nerdy.
But Tybalt seemed to enjoy it, and everyone seemed to like Tybalt. Of course, this made sense. Tybalt was clearly well off, and had proper society manners and a sleek wardrobe. He was also ridiculously attractive, despite the terrible scar—Tank assumed it was from a fire or something similar—marring his otherwise perfectly angular features. In fact, Tank was willing to bet that the scar just added intrigue to Tybalt for the ladies. They probably liked him even more with a mysterious past fraught with injury and intrigue.
It had certainly caught Tank's attention at least. He'd noticed the other man as soon as he'd arrived on campus, and then pointedly made friends with him as quickly as he possibly could. But he didn’t quite understand why chess was supposed to be fun to Tybalt.
When Tank had asked, the other man had said something about it being “sophisticated” or whatever. He’d then said his grandfather taught him very early, and every heir should know how to play—of which Tank technically was, even if he wasn't an aristocrat like Tybalt.
After that, the argument was that it impressed upper-class refined ladies and obviously Tank would want that, right? And well... Even the General would agree that Tank should want to impress high-society women. Or any women, really. But very specifically, the kind who would want to stay home and cook and clean and raise well-mannered children while Tank took up his father's mantle in the military.
Which, of course, led to Tank trying to learn how to play this stupid game with Tybalt across from him, very patiently explaining the rules once again, like Tank was a distracted child.
Across the room, Mercutio Monty—Tybalt's apparent sworn enemy for some inexplicable reason—was hanging out with two identical redheaded girls. Tybalt was scowling from his seat.
“I don’t really understand why you hate him so much, man.” Tank prodded, hoping to get some sort of actual reason for why any time Mercutio entered the room, Tybalt's fury seemed to flare up.
“It’s on principle." Tybalt continued scowling in the general direction of the two freshman girls and Mercutio. "His family is trash. Absolute and utter trash.”
Tank glanced over at the other boy. Sure, compared to Tybalt, he did seem like he wasn't nearly as important. Where Tybalt dressed in Armani suits and carried around a Prada laptop case, Mercutio was hanging out in a t-shirt and jeans—with holes in them, no less. But the other man had an easy confidence about him—it was obvious even from here, the way he talked to the girls near him. And beside that, Tank knew that this rivalry was long-running. Mercutio came from Veronaville as well, and so he too was obnoxiously well off, and likely an heir to some foreign diplomat. No one was was trash lived in Verona.
Mercutio glanced up and caught Tank's—or rather likely Tybalt's—gaze and flashed the two of them a lazy smirk that had Tybalt cursing under his breath.
“They’re new money, you know." Tybalt expanded on his earlier remark. "But that isn’t even the problem. It runs far deeper than that, my man.”
Tank looked back at Tybalt then, a grin creeping into his features at being considered highly enough to be a part of Tybalt's circle of friends. My man. Yes, this was exactly what he needed at this school. Network with the best people here, be close enough that people claimed him as one of theirs. Perfect. Tank didn't understand the difference between old money and new money—he figured as long as you had enough money, then who cared?—but the Capp family clearly did.
“Alright.” Tank agreed amicably. He supposed it didn't matter if he understood, as long as Tybalt knew Tank was on his side. Whatever the Monty had done, he'd obviously deeply wronged Tank's newest friend. Even outside that, Mercutio irritated Tank for some reason he couldn't put a finger on. Maybe it was his natural charisma and charm. The fact that he was attractive too. Basically all the girls in the dorm wanted to be with him already, which only left slim pickings for someone like Tank. So if Tybalt hated him, then Tank wouldn't take an issue in hating him too.
“Well, what about those Pleasant girls? They’re pretty hot right? And you’re single too. Bet you could steal at least one of them from him if you wanted." Tank said, changing the subject just enough that he wouldn't have to talk about money. Looking at the girls again, he tacked on, "Maybe the normal one.”
But to his surprise, Tybalt gagged, “Tank. No.”
“What? They’re both pretty!” Tank was sure they were objectively pretty. Though the goth one could do with a different style. But he was certain they were pretty.
“Yeah, sure, they’re attractive.” Tybalt paused, considering. Then he shook his head. “But they look too much like my sisters.”
Tank choked on a laugh. Looking at Tybalt, he could see it. Though the pleasant girls were softer, with rounder features, they did share the same ginger hair as the boy in front of him.
“Okay, okay. I can picture that.”
While Tank continued chuckling, Tybalt rolled his eyes. Then he moved a chess piece and knocked one of Tank's over. “Checkmate.”
Tank looked down at the board. He'd say he didn't know how he lost, but if he were honest, he wasn't even sure what was giving away that he'd lost. The board looked the same to him now as it had four moves previously.
Tank sighed. He was never gonna get the hang of this stupid game.
"I don't think you're having much luck teaching me how to play..." He muttered.
"That's because you're paying too much attention to pretty redheads, and not enough to the game."
When he looked up, Tybalt had one brow up, daring him to argue. He wasn't really wrong though. Tank had been more focused on socializing than the game. Though...
“Speaking of pretty redheads… you want to introduce me to your sisters?” he joked, and ducked away as Tybalt aimed a light smack at his shoulder.