//Smoothie King{and Queen}// [Thundy]

Why are weekdays so damn boring? Ryder though, lying on the roof of... well he didn't know which building he had picked to mope on. His limbs were stretched out spread eagle, his face staring blankly up at the sky. It was getting even colder in the districts now and his thin plaid coat, while somewhat stylish, was wearing thin from the many years he had owned it. A few snowflakes float down from the clouds to die a quick death of heatstroke against the warm sidewalks below. One of the white fuzz balls lands right in the middle of the boy's forehead. Reaching a hand over his face to grab it but his fingers only came back wet. Groaning, he threw his arm back against the roof. Jeff didn't really care for snow that much, it made him stick out against the backdrop of the district- something he tries to avoid. Nothing like red hair to make a kid stand out.

Exhaling, the boy watched his breathe escape into the chill air. For a few minutes he pretended to being a fire breathing dragon, and then a few more smoking a cigarette. It had been ages since he had one of those... one thing about being poor it makes you quit habits that's for sure. Having enough of what the boring rooftop had to offer him, Ryder pulled himself to his feet. He bent over and grabbed his toes and stretched out his stiff muscles. "Where to now?" he asked under his breath before slapping a hand over his arms and stretching the other one out to point in front of him. The boy began spinning around in a circle. He usually tried to count to ten but this time his foot caught the edge of a metal vent and sent him sprawling onto the concrete. Opening his eyes, Ryder took inventory of his injuries- a scrap across his chin, a skinned elbow, and a bruised ego. Sighing, he looked to see where his arm was pointing- east. Maybe northeast? Well the Bored Gods have spoken and that's where he would head.

After pulling himself together, the boy hopped from one rooftop to another. The street he had been lounging on top of was an older one and the buildings were all shoved in next to each other like those nasty sardines in the pull cans the charities give them every two weeks. When he was younger, the orphan used to wait in line just to be able to eat something substantial. However, as he grew older and became more familiar with the underbelly of his district- and the assortment of crimes one could commit in it- he scoffed at the idea of the stinky, tiny fish. They were a bad memory and one he wished he could erase. Yet every times Jeff walked past the charity building his shoes would send the thin metal cans clanging across the street. The soundtrack of his childhood, that he hopes will not reach over into his adult life.

Jumping across the rooftops, the boy reached the corner where the buildings became more stretched out and his walk would have to involve more... maneuvering. A leap onto a fire escape, a few skips across a bakery and- there it was. District One's Training Center. It wasn't the only one, but it was the biggest. Usually on busy days, Jeff could slip in there and mess around with the swords and weight equipment for shits and giggles. Most of the time he got dirty looks and on one interesting occasion was escorted out. The long white building was just across the street and it seemed to mock him with its shiny weaponry and smoothies. Ryder once stole a smoothie from some kid who had the misfortune to wander into the wrong part of town and it was probably the best thing he had ever tasted. He may, or may not, have started a smoothie fund in his back pocket. So far he only had a few nickles and a quarter and smoothies don't come cheap.

Slipping down the bakery's wall, Ryder made his way across the street towards the training center, but ignored the main entrance. It was covered in large pictures of Topaz Ross, Peridot Myler, and Opal Shore the three popular District One Victors. Their air brushed faces seemed to shout at him "You too can be like me and kill a shit ton of kids by spending a lot of money of a gym membership and smoothies" If only.

With his hands in his pockets, the red haired boy made his way to the back entrance of the training center. It was normal sized door without the extra adornments of blood and biceps, and usually took in supplies and new equipment and- you guessed it- smoothies. Maybe, if he hung out long enough, the smoothie man might pay a visit and he could sneak a peek into the back of his trunk. A small awning stuck out over the doorway and it was the perfect size for Jeff to stick his butt on. With just a firm push against the wall with his foot and a bit of upper body strength, the boy pulled himself on top of the metal overhang.

Leaning on his stomach, the boy peered over the edge, sticking his head below to stare at the door. His red hair was all pointed towards the ground and looked like someone enchanted as fire to hang from the ceiling.

"Come on. Someone bring good ol' Ryder a smoothie."