Practicing for...what? Nothing...just here. [ O P E N ]

Sweat dripped down the back of her tank top and it poured off her forehead in bucket-fulls. She wasn't the best swordsman, but she was practicing. She was getting better, too. Taylor McDonald spun around in a circle aiming for the dummy, but completely missing her target. "Damn..." She muttered as she struck again. She took aim for a chink in it's armour. She felt the sword connect with the metal, sending vibrations into her arms. "Gah..." She mumbled nearly dropping the sword. It sort of felt like she had hit her funny bone. If there was a funny bone in your hand.
She got a better grip on the hilt and sized up the dummy in front of her. Maybe she should've grabbed a spear from the rack to practice with. Too bad she had no idea how to work one. She shrugged it off and tried the thrusting of the sword once again.

Guest

Sweat trickles down the front of his face--not in any way from fighting (the equation's damn complexity) and it's quite hot for a late winter evening. He has to perfect his answer, he has to get it right. He has to make his father proud. He silences the noise of the sword practice with the sounds of A Day to Remember.

The girl missed the target, almost swinging the sword at Adam's hair, causing him to dodge it in one swift motion, moving on as if it never happened.

For once, the arena is empty (it almost always is on Saturdays), but with her around, Adam might as well give up on his practice (of geometrical equations) and raises his eyes at her. He isn't exactly a peace-loving hippie, but, moreso, someone who believes in serenity and tranquility.

He doesn't think she notices him, so he appears out of the sidelines, straightening his shirt, "Why do you happen to be here, on Saturday, nonetheless?" he always sounded "different," but, nevertheless, a dork.... a dork with such polite grammatical sentences and speech.

Dork, was Taylor's immdieate thought as she jumped back. "Gah, you scared me!" She cried, "Now you have to restart my heart." She twirled the sword in her hand, careful not to hit the dork but she did drop it. Heat rose in her cheekbones. "I did that on purpose." She said with a grin as she retrieved it from the ground.

"I'm here because I'm a loser and I need more practice. As you can see."

Guest

He blushes at her embarrassment, stifiling his laughter. "Don't be so harsh on yourself; maybe you're just having a bad day." he says it out of comfort, not truth. Unless she has a bad day everyday.

Adam eyes her, shifting his thick brow upwards, "Us losers must stick together."

"Yeah..." the teen said ruefully. She noticed his uni-brow and then added, "I like your...er, eyebrow." She poked his brow and nodded. People with a single brow often confused her and frightened her. They reminded her of Hitler. Minus the 'stache of course.

Guest

~You're an idiot--to put it nicely. He doesn't have a unibrow. YOU HIGH?

I Stood up from the top of the Arena walls and leaped off. I cam zooming down towards the ground and t the last seconds possible soared inches away from it. I flew with Speed so powerful it felt like i was the breeze. I flew into a back flipping stop. I turn to see two kids hanging around and talking. I laughed, "Hey sorry if i ruined your concentration or anything like that, just practicing my newish power. Whats your name?" i asked has polite as i could.

((Gah. You said in the chatbox that, "I gave him a unibrow. xD" I'm confused! Lemme edit that.))

Guest

~O.O I never said that. I never said that about anyone. xD I know why, you're seeing things, my lurvely friend. It's the drugs Moo gave you, right?

Fluff Nutella Flamingoes wrote:: He blushes at her embarrassment, stifiling his laughter. "Don't be so harsh on yourself; maybe you're just having a bad day." he says it out of comfort, not truth. Unless she has a bad day everyday.

Adam eyes her, shifting his thick brow upwards, "Us losers must stick together."

((Maybe...what I do in my spare time is none of your concern. O_o))

Taylor smiled bashfully. "Ok. Well, so what exactly are you doing here on a Friday night??" She questioned curiously. Obviously he was here for some reason, either that or he was smoking something. Whatever it was, she wanted some of it. She grinned at her own joke.
Taylor didn't really smoke, but sometimes she wish she did so she'd forget her other life.

Guest

".... I- I," he pauses, stuttering, ".... I was doing geometry." Adam never had the greatest conversation skills, due to the fact he hated being in any social situation. He knew he'd freeze up or stutter, so, nonetheless, he was the one person in the yearbook everybody had forgotten.

This girl didn't necessarily look nor appear to care what someone of his low standards did, especially if it was geometry. She probably, or at least, had a life where she'd go somewhere some weekend. "I'm Adam Atom," he nods, not really positive if she cares, "Atomic Adam." he mentally rolls his eyes at the stupidity of his nickname.

Taylor snorted. She grew up in the hood. So doing drugs was the usual answer. Either sarcasm or not. But not geometry. She barely passed her pre-algebra class. "Oh. Sounds like... er, fun?"
Taylor made a face. The guy's name turned out to be Adam. Not one of her favorite names. But she'd deal with it. "I think it's cute." She said rather bluntly, twirling a lock of hair absently.

Guest

He raises his eyebrows in suspicion, "Oh really now?" he says dryly; his expression blank, "Listen, if you don't care, go run off to wherever you please."

Adam sighs, "If I'm not worth your time, then don't waste it. I'm used to it." he shrugs his shoulders with no intention of self-pity; he simply doesn't display emotion, as usual.

Taylor made a face and crossed her arms over her chest. "Where would you get that from? I never said that. I said I liked your name, Atomic Adam. It's cute." So are you. She grinned at her own expense.

Guest

He sighs, unsatisfied with being wrong, "I was.... testing you." he sinks his hands further into his denim pockets, "Sorry, I assume often. I'm often wrong." he rolls his eyes before glancing back at his practice work, breathing in a gulp of air.

"I hate being wrong." he mutters underneath his breath.

"We all do." She stated blatantly. "It's a fact of life, though. You can't really escape it. It's also part of learning." She said, quoting something her english teacher once said.

Taylor glanced at Adam's work. "Damn. That looks hard." She cocked her head at all the numbers and random letters. They all, immediately started swirling around. She groaned, "Gah. Letters and numbers hurt my brain." She rubbed her temples.

"By the way. I'm Taylor McDonald, daughter of Hermes."

Guest

"Son of Athena, if you couldn't guess." he shrugs, slightly, "Yeah, the dyslexia made me fail a course in seventh grade and my dad won't look at me the same way since."

He clutches the loose change in his pocket, "So.... I'm socially awkward, yeah...." he trails off, dryly.

"School is, like, useless to me. I mean, it just is useless to me. I'm wierd like that. When I was at school I was, like, bored and just slept. Most of the time I just skipped. But when I showed up to take the finals and stuff, I, like, passed them all. I didn't even do the work." She grinned, almost, coldly.

"My 9th grade counselor told me that I was smart, but I didn't care. She also said that there are three types of people in the world. Those who are born with street smarts. Those who are born with book smarts. And those who have both. I have street smarts. You have book smarts. Y'know?"

Guest

"Yeah, I see your point." he agrees, shrugging his shoulders, "I could skip too." his smirk twists upwards on both sides, similing. Adam places his right foot forward, skipping, "Oh, you didn't mean, literally?" he cocks his brow, tilting his head slightly.

~Piece o' crappers.

"Yeah because I skip around during the school during the middle of the freakin' class." Taylor rolled her eyes. "No. I meant cutting. CUTTING CLASS." She said that so he didn't think she meant cutting herself. She didn't trust him so much anymore.

Guest

"I know exactly what you mean." he scoffs, "Sarcasm much?" he mentally shakes his head, rolling his eyes at Taylor. They had different senses of humor.

"I'm not good with this whole 'conversation thing, so I'm pretty awkward when changing subjects.'" Adam bites his lower lip, informing her.

"It's fine. My best friend is eleven. That speaks for itself." She grinned as her brushed the hilt of her sword. Taylor, being ADHD, turned her head to look at the room again. She couldn't concentrate on conversations very well. She was often getting yelled at for bad eye contact.

Guest

"We can be.... socially awkward," he breathes, tracing his foot in the dry filth, "together." it's not as if he's implying a 'date' of some sort, but, first of all, he's not the type ask--even if he truly likes her. It's not his nature.

Stuff like love makes him a nervous wreck.

Adam has to be completely sure of the other person's feelings and status--before anything--and that's why he's a failure. All the girls in the past expected the first move, thinking he was displaying disinterest. When girls show interest, he thinks it's a complete joke.

"I feel," he begins, his throat clenching, "like taking a break from the world." not suicide, he wouldn't dare. He faces her, "I want to run away, even if only for a day." he lowers his eyes.

He needs a friend, of any sort. Anyone.

"Run away with me?" who else can he ask? Everyone else thinks he's a walking freak. She's his last hope--at having a decent conversation.

Where? He just wants escape.

~Those first two paragraphs practically described myself. >.<

T A Y L O R | M c D O N A L D
daughter of Hermes
"there aint no rest for the wicked...money dont grow on trees..."

- op op op op -

I sighed, "Oh Adam, I'd love to..." Gods, how was I going to tell him? How to tell him gently? I didn't wanna break his heart. But they needed me here, even if they didn't know who I was. I kicked at the floor and cursed under my breath.

"Uhh...well, Adam, see the thing is...I..." This definitely wasn't going to be easy. "Do you know or remember Roxanne Michaels," I have the tendency to blurt things out that I just learn, "Yeahh...well you know how she died and all and was reincarnated and stuff? Yeah...I'm her reincarnate...so I've been told that I'm needed here. Alot. Believe, I'd kill to go away and just run away forever.

"I'd kill to just stop being a demigod. I can't live with this girl's weight on my shoulders. It's like I'm Atlas and I have to play the role of Roxanne. I can't do that! I just wanna be me. Just Taylor McDonald, not Roxanne." I spoke gently, but with power. I'd make a great motivational speaker.

- op op op op -

"i got bills to pay, i gotta mouth to feed, ain't nothing in this world for free..."

Guest

"Roxanne, yeah, sort of," Adam raises his brows, then stares her dead in the eye, "not really." he kicks around the pebbles with the sole of his shoes, "Huh. Why would someone actually want to be a demigod of any sort?" his eyebrows jump, almost twitching. The responsibility, the.... everything.

It's all too much. The pressure gets to him and his stay is useless.

He lifts his pack up and slips his books and studies back in, closing his eyes. "You don't have to come, but I thought someone should know." Adam nods back to her, before turning to leave, slightly unimpressed.

They have two separate fates.

This is his.

» Practicing, Of Course. [O P E N]
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» Practicing. Nothing more. [E S S I E]
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