Children at Play [closed @vet]

Today was not a good day for Jackson.

He'd woken up that morning and almost missed the bus to school, even though he had gone to bed early. For some reason, he felt even more sluggish than usual and was not in the mood to run that soon in the day. The reason he'd slept early? He wanted be rested for a test he had the next day. In fact, he had taken two tests that day and believed he did miserably on both even after studying the previous night. When the paper was put in front of him in class it felt like his hands couldn't write and his brain couldn't think. That coupled with his exhaustion hit his spirit right where it hurt, and the rest of the day he was feeling pretty down.

When school let out, Jackson took the bus back home just like he always did. Upon entering his house, he set down his school backpack and realized his zipper had been left open and that all of his pens and pencils had fallen out of its back pocket. That didn't really help his mood.
...
gah.
GAH.
"GAH!!"
Angrily, he threw off his sweater and went straight up to his room to take a nap. He didn't usually take naps, but it was the only thing he could think of to do after such a series of events.

When Jackson woke up, he felt only a little better, but it didn't take him long to recall why he felt bad in the first place. As if on cue, he became angry with himself once again. I should've stayed home and asked for a retake. Rolling over in bed, he checked the clock right by it. Hmph, right now's the time I usually go to play Turf War... Should I go? I don't think I have any school tomorrow...
He slugged himself out of naptime and made his way downstairs. His mom wasn't home yet, which was somewhat out-of-ordinary. At least nobody will ask about my test.
On that thought, he firmly decided to keep it that way for as long as possible and picked up his afterschool bag, caught the train to Booyah Base, and swiftly jumped into a Regular Match of Turf War.

When the Spawn Point brought Jackson to the battle map, he looked around and realized it was Flounder Heights. MmmMM... not my favorite, but it'll do. I was hoping for Camp Triggerfish. His color was now a less vibrant orange, but he didn't quite notice and instead tried to ease his anger by playing the game.
Easier said than done when most of the opposing team's members are long-range chargers. Jackson didn't even stand a chance, and grew angrier each time he became splatted...

After the time was up, Jackson rematerialized back at Spawn after being splatted at the last minute by an opposing E-Litre. The moment he could feel his arms, he also felt the crash of defeat. He was furious at this point, and could barely contain his rage. As he seethed internally, his teammates seemed to take it rather well, but Jackson walked off the map just to find a spot to cool down while he still had his bearings. He could take the spawn back to Booyah Base later, right then he direly needed a moment to himself.

Jackson found a spot to the north of Flounder Heights and sat down and put his bag next to him. He took some deep breaths for several minutes, for all he knows it could've been longer. Once he felt like he wasn't holding back a grimace he decided to just head home. I've had enough action to last me a week... or a night. It can't be good for me to play when I'm angry. He thought that twice, just to make sure he understood his own thoughts, and made his way back to the Turf War area. Halfway there however, he realized he'd left his bag where he was sitting. He turned around and ran back to the spot, whispering "Oh no" and other exclamations of unexpected panic repeatedly to himself with each breath.

In little time, Jackson was right back at the spot where he had previously calmed himself, though only a psychic would be able to tell that just then. He was fairly panicked, because in the spot where he'd left it his bag was NOT THERE. W-WH-WHA-WHAT?!?! NO! Nononononono I left it right here oh Cod that had my Squiffer and my wallet and my phone and my shoes and my earbuds and... and... where is it?!? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young inkling running away and taking his bag behind the building at a rather fast speed. Was it really his bag? Well Jackson couldn't tell from the glimpse he saw, but made chase anyways because right now the thought had tipped him over the edge. He was outwardly fuming with pent-up rage.
"H-hey! HEY!! THAT'S MY BAG!! COME BACK!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!"
When he shouted as he ran after the younger inkling, the young one kept his distance away as he ran, and didn't stop. Little did Jackson know the young one only wanted to play with his Squiffer and had taken his bag without thinking. To be true, Jackson might've been able to do that if everything in his physical body wasn't screaming to get his stuff back.

The littler squid soon made it to the playground in Flounder Heights, Jackson in hot pursuit, but someone else was already there as well...


((OOC: Now I'mma tag... vet  Did I tag right?
And wow. Holy hamburgers that's a long post. Sincerely sorry about that, I just wanted to put in what it took for Jackson to get this mad.))