#glory: interaction

[go-foxes]

Location: Foxhole Court Lounge Date: Saturday, October 4 Time: After Dinner (open​)

She made it through dinner and speeches—standing on stage next to Claudia and the slimy ERC rep, trying to keep a smile on her face for the crowd and the cameras though she's sure it slipped into a scowl a few times as he cracked jokes at the Foxes' expense—in her high heels. But the boring, formal part of the night is over and she's not keeping them on for a second longer.

Thankfully, the banquet is on the Foxes' home turf this time and she had the forethought to stash her boots in the lounge—though it's not like she hadn't walked barefoot through the streets of Nashville last year when she'd had enough. If Wymack hadn't told her and Claudia that they'd be taking his spot on stage, maybe she just would've worn the combat boots from the start.

It's stupid to think that a pair of heels might make the difference between the Foxes being taken seriously and not—especially not when Glory was still up on stage with her arms full of tattoos, her dark eyeliner, her accent that always seems more pronounced to her when she's speaking into a microphone—but it felt like something she should do anyway.

She guesses she'll see what they say about it, or about her, in the press tomorrow, though she's not looking exactly looking forward to it. She'll watch tape and analyze her play, but watching herself speak on camera is something else.

"If I bombed, don't tell me," she says, sinking down onto one of the lounge couches with boots in hand to pull them onto her feet. "And I thought press duty was bad. At least after playin' a whole game we have a reason to be sweaty and tired."

[go-foxes]

Location: Laser Tag Date: Monday, August 30th Time: Evening (open​)

When she thinks of the things she misses over the summer, over breaks—when so many of the Foxes go home in a way that she can't and leave her in Palmetto—she misses games, of course, like the one they played on Friday, even if it was just a scrimmage. But she also misses things like this.

It was a surprise to her at first, even if it maybe shouldn't have been. She might have grown up with a pack of siblings, but she always thought of herself as a lone wolf. A loner. When she left them all behind, it became even more true: she had friends in Louisville, but they were fleeting, foster kids that moved around just like she did. There was no one who really knew her, no one she really knew.

After everything, she'd thought it was better that way.

And that's how she came to Palmetto. She wanted to play Exy, to keep holding on tight to this thing she discovered in Louisville, this thing that made her feel alive—but she hadn't really been thinking about the team. Not at first. She thought that she'd keep her distance the way she had been. She'd thought that it'd be safer that way.

Two years later, and she's the Vice Captain of the team. She doesn't want to keep her distance anymore, if she ever even really did in the first place.

What she wants is to be here: dressed in all black on a weekday night—though it's not like that part is out of the ordinary for her—running around in the dark with her teammates as they try to shoot each other. They spent the past week on different teams, but this feels different: this time, she really doesn't care if they win or lose.

"You ever done this before?" She asks in between rounds, shrugging off her illuminated vest and setting it aside. "I think I'm real bad at it. I still can't tell when I hit someone."

[go-foxes]

Location: Team Retreat Date: Saturday, August 21st Time: Daytime, Ropes Course (open)  

All of the Foxes back after the summer, a weekend spent in the woods, the title of Vice Captain—Glory feels filled up with all of it, with energy and excitement for the year to come. 

Sometimes it still tugs at her, the memory of the girl she was back in Louisville, the one who only ended up on the Exy Court as a last resort before expulsion, because she was grieving and she was numb and the only time she felt even halfway alive was when she was doing something she shouldn’t—until she got onto the court, and put everything she was feeling there. Sometimes she remembers the girl she was before that, too, back at the end in Owls Bend, when she felt half out of her mind with guilt and the only thing she could think of to save herself was getting out. 

Sometimes, being happy with her life now feels like she’s forgetting all of that. Like she should still be back there, trapped in those moments when she was at her lowest. But there’s something about being out here in the woods—or maybe it’s the aftermath of another semester’s session with Betsy—that makes her feel resilient instead. Like she’s one of the trees she grew up climbing, sturdy and strong and growing taller towards the sky, even when it’s happening so slowly you can’t see it. 

They’re making their way through a ropes course today after the bonfire last night, and while it’s not anything Glory’s done before she’s never been afraid of heights and she’s always been fearless, always trusted her own hands and feet to take her where she needs to go. 

She attacks the climbing wall with the same confidence that sent her to the tops of trees back home, where no one could ever reach her to make her come down, not before she was ready to. She’s got nothing to hide from now, though, so when she reaches the top she comes right back down, sneakered feet thumping gently back onto solid ground as she unclips from the harness they strapped her into. 

As a kid, she learned how to climb trees. When she was a little older, she learned how to play Exy. She learned how to be competitive. And so when she grins at the teammate next to her, she’s both a little bit breathless and a little bit smug. “What d’you think, is anyone gonna manage to beat my time?” 

[go-foxes]

Location: Birthday Hike Date: Saturday, May 22 Time: Daytime (open​)  

If you asked Glory, she’d say she’s never really been on a hike before.

Back home, back in Owl’s Bend, all she had to do to find herself among the trees was open the door and walk outside. She didn’t have to go far to leave the house behind her, to be in the woods—her woods—to leave everything and everyone that was bothering her behind.

Sometimes, it felt like she spent more time out there in the woods than she did in the house. Sometimes, when Justice was at his worst, she slept out there. She didn’t care if it was summer or winter, rain or shine. Her feet calloused like leather, she didn’t even care if she had shoes on. She felt safe out there. Like nothing could touch her.

Maybe she’s lost that. Or maybe she’s just found it somewhere else, because the court feels a lot like that now. And now, whether it’s Louisville or Palmetto, getting back out into the woods requires so much more effort. Her and her team, loading up in the cars. Lacing up their sneakers. Packing water and snacks into backpacks. 

It’s different, sure, but it’s what she wanted. And her team’s here with her, celebrating her twentieth birthday. 

“So, what d’you think?” She asks, turning her face up to the sky. It’s sunny and warm out, the summer quickly approaching. It’s that time of year where almost everything feels like a last hurrah, like she’s counting down until the Foxes leave, and the ones who are staying move over to Abby’s house for the summer. But, for now, they’re all together, and she can’t help but grin. 

 “Pretty nice, isn’t it?” 

[go-foxes]

Continued from [x] @chaoticfoxes

Once, Glory spent all her time in the trees, and none of it on the court. Exy hadn't really found a foothold in her tiny hometown—but even then, it's not like she would have played it. While everyone else in Owls Bend went to football games on Friday nights, Glory was never there.

The trees were lost to her even before she found the court. She left home, and she landed in Louisville and everything there was just so—big. There were so many buildings, so many people, so little of anything that Glory had grown up with, the forest and the creek and the animals. So little that was wild.

Finding the court felt like a refuge. Louisville might not have been wild, but Glory still was, wild and half-feral with grief and with anger, and the court was the place where she could let that all out. She followed that feeling, and it took her to Palmetto. To a smaller town—but still much bigger than Owls Bend, because what wasn't?—and a bigger court.

So it feels like she's chosen the court—and the person she is on it—over everything else she left behind in Owls Bend and the girl she was there. But maybe she didn't leave it all behind completely, because here she is in the woods and she feels like her spirit is singing, like she's grinning in a way she just can't shake.

"I'll try telling Wymack I deserve one. What d'you think my odds are?" She asks. Though it's not like Wymack hasn't already bought her all the gear she owns, given her everything she has.

And while it's nice to be here now, she doesn't think she's going to be missing it during the season. Not when she's been waiting for it. Not when she's the Vice Captain. But it seems like Charlie feels differently. Like he doesn't really want to be here or on the court. "Where do you want to go? I'm sure we can try and make it happen."

[go-foxes]

Location: Beach House Date: Sunday, April 4th Time: Early Morning (open​)

Until Florida, Glory had never seen the ocean, just gone from landlocked Missouri to landlocked Kentucky. And on the beach with the Foxes, her foot had been in a boot, keeping her from enjoying the salt and sand with full abandon. Now, though they have a whole week, and it feels unbelievably decadent. Especially when she thinks of how this could’ve just been another regular break, when so many of the Foxes left and went home and she just—stayed.

Breaks are usually when she gets lonely. When she thinks of her father, and all of her siblings back home who aren’t Justice, the old house and the tall trees that she left behind. When she wonders how they’re all doing without her, if they have even any inkling of where she is now. She’s never been hiding. But it’s hard to imagine them looking in the right places. Who, out of anyone who knew her back in Owls Bend, would ever look for her on the Exy court? In college?

But that old familiar melancholy feels far away now. She’s not longing for something she’s long since left behind at home, she’s just longing for the blue she can see out of her window. Something she can more easily achieve.

When the Foxes were in Florida, it was dark, late at night after a game. It’s dark this morning, too, but it won’t be for long. Glory’s awake, and she’s got a plan. Just as soon as she figures out this coffee maker. 

She’s trying to be quiet, but it’s hard in an unfamiliar kitchen, digging through cabinets to try and find the groceries they put away last night, to see if they have mugs that she won’t feel bad about taking out of the house. It’s dark inside, too, because with her teammates sleeping all around, she hasn’t wanted to turn on too many lights. 

And just as she’s triumphant and the coffeepot burbles to life, another Fox stumbles into the kitchen. “Shit,” she says in a whisper. “Did I wake you up? I was goin’ to go down to the beach and see the sunrise, but I wouldn’t mind company.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder, with a smile and a peace offering: “And I’m making coffee.”

[go-foxes]

Location: Fox Tower, Roof Date: Friday, January 8 Time: Evening, Post Practice (open​)

The snow below has gone gross and wet, melting in slushy piles along curbs and sidewalks. Looking down at it reminds her of nights at home when it was too cold and wet to sleep outside—though there were definitely times that she tried, whether she made it the whole night out of stubbornness or if she crept back to the porch swing in the shelter of the house or all the way back to her bed in the middle of the night. 

Maybe it’s the memory that drove her to the roof, to feel the uncharacteristic bite in the air instead of just looking out through her dorm room window. 

Soon it’ll all be gone, and she won’t have to worry about slipping on ice when she makes the trek to classes, to the court, or worry about the salt on the sidewalks staining her boots. It’s been a week of practices, and she already feels all the empty spaces, wakes up early in the morning for nothing at all, because it’s the off season and they’re taking it easy, only practicing once a day. 

Her ankle feels strong again, solid underneath her as she throws herself into drills or runs on the treadmill. She won’t have to worry about it going into next season, but next season is still so far away. Months and months, and when it comes Glory will be a junior, at the halfway point of her time in Palmetto. 

But she’s glad beyond words to have the rest of the Foxes back, the rest of Palmetto too, to not feel like she’s looking out over and empty town, like everyone moved on and left her here. Now, she’s not alone for long before the door to the roof is creaking open behind her. “It’s cold,” she says, though she’s known colder. “I’ve got hot chocolate, if you want some. I took the packets from the dining hall, the ones with the little marshmallows.”

[go-foxes]

Location: Hotel Party Date: Friday, December 11 Time: Post-Game (open​)

It’s all been new to her, these past few weeks sitting on the sidelines, not being able to play. She hasn’t been playing Exy for as long as most of her teammates, and she’s gotten lucky. She’s never really been injured before. 

It’s frustrating to feel so close: she’s out of the boot, she’s walking around, she’s working on her range of motion—it’s hard not to think that if she just pushed herself enough, she could be out there, even if she wasn’t 100 percent, especially when it was just one game. If she exacerbated it, then she’d have a whole semester to recover.

Somehow, Abby hadn’t been too persuaded by that logic.

So she sat on the bus, and then she sat on the bench. She watched her teammates fight with her hands curled into fists, wishing she could be out there throwing punches with them. She watched them score. She watched them win. It’s good that they got one win. It won’t shut anybody up, but she can just imagine the things they’d say if they didn’t. And it’s still her win, too, even if she didn’t play. She’s a Fox, and she’s a team player. If they lose together—and they did, all damn season long—then they win together, too. 

She’s going to keep telling herself that, all night long. It’s not that she doesn’t believe it, it’s just that it’s a little bittersweet. She’s never been one for sitting idly by. For watching. And these few weeks haven’t taught her how to be any good at it, either. 

“Congratulations,” she says, because she’s not going to be a sore winner, not when this is the only win they’re going to get all season. Not when her teammates fought so hard for it. “Wish I could’ve been out there with you.”