<div style="text-align: center">《 Rebel》<br/>
<i>Location: LDS Church; approx 1 mile into their trek<br/>
Addressing: Kennedy</i>​</div><br/>What the hell was a Westboro Boy? He knew what<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2Fp3j2NYZ8FKs&amp;hash=524d2cdbbe95cc3172781819d5feeec7" href="https://youtu.be/p3j2NYZ8FKs" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">East End Boys and West End Girls</a>were, there had been a song about it, but Westboro? Rebel flinched, his body tensed when Kennedy stepped in, his buttons obviously pushed. "Knock it off!" he snarled after the first shove. There was no honor in beating down this gangly, tattooed fop. Rebel wasn't really worried about the man, but the scene he was causing could bring them attention they didn't want.<br/><br/>Another shove, and Rebel gritted his teeth, growling, "Knock. It.<i>Off!"</i>He could hear Kennedy's voice rise in volume; the one thing that could bring sleeping rotters to their party. "Keep your voice down, you'll—"<br/><br/>But then the punch came, and all words were forgotten as Rebel felt himself bowled over by the loud mouth. Both men tumbling to the ground in a tangle of legs and arms, chests butting against each other by the power of Kennedy's tackle. He felt the wind knocked from him and for a moment he fought to catch his breath.<i>"Damn it! Stupid, stupid…" </i>He could have kicked himself for not taking the man seriously. How many times had they drilled into his head in the academy that anyone could be a threat?<br/><br/>And why the hell had Kennedy thrown in that Marine quote? Didn't he know they had a "Don't ask, don't tell" rule? That man had a lot of issues, and Rebel had a feeling it didn't start the day they met.<br/><br/>Rebel bucked his hips and thrust his body weight to the side, rolling them over so he sat on Kennedy's waist, both knees planted on the ground. He could feel his heart race and the rapid pull of breath, and somewhere on the air he thought he smelled the stink of human putrefaction.<br/><br/>He wrestled Kennedy's punching hand down, pinning it near his shoulder as he clamped his other hand over the man's mouth. Leaning in close, eyes fixed on Kennedy's, he hissed, "Shut your<i>fucking</i>mouth."