Roland had entered what some others may call "The Zone." He could feel the blood pumping through his veins, he could feel the sweat begin to coat his body, and the cries and jeers of his classmates faded into an indiscernible blur. At this point all that mattered was Dodgeball, all that he cared about was Dodgeball and all he could think about was Dodgeball. Winning was everything and losing was worse then nothing. Roland was winning.
He sprinted from side to side, watching the ranks of both teams thin rapidly. He could see the Coach bellowing at Harold out of the corner of his eye to get on the bench. The boy had been smacked full on with a ball only a few seconds into the game. A part of him wished he was the one who'd gotten a chance to smack Fisher, but he didn't matter anymore. Things were going well. Roland saw Craig holding back, keeping out of focus. It was a smart way to wait until he would be needed Roland thought, he just hoped he wouldn't get cut down by a stray ball.
Roland jumped in the air just in time to snatch a flying ball out of a teammates path. He strafed left and with blistering speed chucked the ball towards one of the wimpier members of Harold's team. The boy didn't even see it coming. The dull whump of the dodgeball resonated through the gym as he went down from a shot to the shoulder. Roland shook his fist with pleasure before retreating farther back near Jason.
"Don't look at me, don't look at me." Roland heard him mutter, and he quickly saw why. That crazy green haired bastard Cisco scooped up a loose ball and began to scan their side of the court for a target.
A girl next to Roland suddenly went down from a ball to the chest, he was surprised when he saw that Meredith that weird emo chick had been the thrower. He really hadn't expected her to actually play, especially with that weird trenchcoat on. She was a walking bullseye. Roland snatched up the loose ball and danced away from Jason eying up Cisco and Meredith. He contemplated who the target would be, but it was halfhearted at best. Already he was striding up to the line opposite to Cisco and bringing his arm back ready to throw the ball.
Going Balls Deep
Return of the random...character.
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
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The match had barely started and things were going FUBAR before Cisco had even taken a step from the back line. His captain had tripped in the middle of his charge, making him easy fodder for whatever was going to fly at him. The other team had barely started themselves, and the only thing on his mind right now was preventing a power vacuum on his team - despite the fact that the team "captain's" role really ended after that previous huddle.
Time seemed to slow down...at least in his mind, as he took a sudden sidestep that he hoped would provide the momentum quite literally dove in front of Harold to try to take the ball in his place. Unfortunately, this wasn't the movies. Not only did Cisco's dive fall short, but the ball had flown clear above him to bean Harold square in the face.
"Nooooo!" Cisco shouted as Harold fell backwards and landed on the floor with a flappy thud while he slid past from his failed dive. He imagined everything else going silent as he tried to figure out some way to avenge the (metaphorical) death of his commanding officer.
Of course, if Roland was in "The Zone," Cisco would probably have been in the "Red Mist" as he quickly tried to get himself back up.
A ball had rolled right under him while he was still on his hands and knees. He picked it up before it rolled out and slid himself away from Harold (who had already started walking back to the bench) before leaping to his feet. Not being very good at leaping to his feet, he stumbled to the side and barely managed to prevent himself from falling as he eyed the enemy team. The bodies were already starting to hit the (literal) floor on the other team, but they weren't falling fast enough.
"Don't look at me...don't look at me..." Jason said, just barely audible in the din. Reverse psychology took its toll, and soon Cisco was looking straight into his eyes.
With a scream, Cisco took a step forward lobbed the ball with such veracity that its trajectory would almost certainly not hit Jason let alone some of the more noticeable targets on the other team, what with the "rage" affecting his senses. Then again, he could always get lucky...
Time seemed to slow down...at least in his mind, as he took a sudden sidestep that he hoped would provide the momentum quite literally dove in front of Harold to try to take the ball in his place. Unfortunately, this wasn't the movies. Not only did Cisco's dive fall short, but the ball had flown clear above him to bean Harold square in the face.
"Nooooo!" Cisco shouted as Harold fell backwards and landed on the floor with a flappy thud while he slid past from his failed dive. He imagined everything else going silent as he tried to figure out some way to avenge the (metaphorical) death of his commanding officer.
Of course, if Roland was in "The Zone," Cisco would probably have been in the "Red Mist" as he quickly tried to get himself back up.
A ball had rolled right under him while he was still on his hands and knees. He picked it up before it rolled out and slid himself away from Harold (who had already started walking back to the bench) before leaping to his feet. Not being very good at leaping to his feet, he stumbled to the side and barely managed to prevent himself from falling as he eyed the enemy team. The bodies were already starting to hit the (literal) floor on the other team, but they weren't falling fast enough.
"Don't look at me...don't look at me..." Jason said, just barely audible in the din. Reverse psychology took its toll, and soon Cisco was looking straight into his eyes.
With a scream, Cisco took a step forward lobbed the ball with such veracity that its trajectory would almost certainly not hit Jason let alone some of the more noticeable targets on the other team, what with the "rage" affecting his senses. Then again, he could always get lucky...
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Craig was quickly remembering why dodgeball was often considered 'hell' amongst all the sports that were played in gym class. Even from its humble beginnings on the elementary school playground, that fearsome (and usually injury-causing) rubber ball held a reputation more deserving to that of a serial killer. It was one of those games that grew up with its players and, even though the dreaded kickball had been switched out for a set of safer foam-like ones, the vicious behavior inherit to the game remained.
This game proved itself to be no different. In the space of just a few short moments, Craig had watched Harold go down, a vicious shot catch a girl on his own team and nearly knock the wind out of her, and various other examples of carnage in a game that had such a fitting reputation. A few stray lobs sailed over the rest of everybody else's heads and even managed to hit the far wall of the gym where Craig was staying, causing the poor boy to flinch whenever a colored orb flew out of nowhere and smacked into the wall near him, sometimes just a foot or two away.
Cisco's antics eventually drew the boy's eye, as they were bound to do. It even occured to him as the scrawny boy was diving, crawling and struggling to get to his feet as though he were fighting in some trench (an issue of Captain America came to mind), that he'd probably be an easy target. Well, he'd be an easy target with anybody who could throw worth a damn, which Craig sure as hell couldn't.
No sooner had the boy gotten to his feet when he suddenly had a dodgeball in his hands. It was also at this point that Craig noticed he was lined up with Cisco, though there was somebody... no, not just somebody, Jason was in between the two of them. Jason was much closer, so he'd probably catch the ball or... or something, but as soon as Cisco released the ball, Craig threw himself a few feet to the right regardless, probably making himself look like a blobby fool in the process.
Augh... with all the grace of the Kingpin... smooooth, Craig!
This game proved itself to be no different. In the space of just a few short moments, Craig had watched Harold go down, a vicious shot catch a girl on his own team and nearly knock the wind out of her, and various other examples of carnage in a game that had such a fitting reputation. A few stray lobs sailed over the rest of everybody else's heads and even managed to hit the far wall of the gym where Craig was staying, causing the poor boy to flinch whenever a colored orb flew out of nowhere and smacked into the wall near him, sometimes just a foot or two away.
Cisco's antics eventually drew the boy's eye, as they were bound to do. It even occured to him as the scrawny boy was diving, crawling and struggling to get to his feet as though he were fighting in some trench (an issue of Captain America came to mind), that he'd probably be an easy target. Well, he'd be an easy target with anybody who could throw worth a damn, which Craig sure as hell couldn't.
No sooner had the boy gotten to his feet when he suddenly had a dodgeball in his hands. It was also at this point that Craig noticed he was lined up with Cisco, though there was somebody... no, not just somebody, Jason was in between the two of them. Jason was much closer, so he'd probably catch the ball or... or something, but as soon as Cisco released the ball, Craig threw himself a few feet to the right regardless, probably making himself look like a blobby fool in the process.
Augh... with all the grace of the Kingpin... smooooth, Craig!
Sitting on the sidelines while the rest of his team threw around dodgeballs gave Harold a lot of time for daydreaming about other things and pretending that his teammates didn't exist. He even contemplated pulling out his DS and putting in some headphones so he could ignore the noises that they were making too, but he knew that the coach wouldn't let something like that happen in his gym. Lacking other options for keeping himself amused, the pudgy man simply leaned forward with his chin resting on his palms and tried to get to sleep.
"Come on, Fisher!" Coach Layton shouted. "Cheer on your teammates here!"
Screw you coach! And same to the team. They should let themselves get hit so this can be over.
"Whatever," he said out loud, and didn't move. Instead, he yawned widely, letting it hang open long enough for anyone who glanced over to see it. If the coach expected him to encourage these people, then he was going to be sorely disappointed.
"Hey! Green hair!" he yelled at Cisco after he made a wild throw. "You suck!"
"Come on, Fisher!" Coach Layton shouted. "Cheer on your teammates here!"
Screw you coach! And same to the team. They should let themselves get hit so this can be over.
"Whatever," he said out loud, and didn't move. Instead, he yawned widely, letting it hang open long enough for anyone who glanced over to see it. If the coach expected him to encourage these people, then he was going to be sorely disappointed.
"Hey! Green hair!" he yelled at Cisco after he made a wild throw. "You suck!"
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Fullcircle†
- Posts: 9
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 5:00 am
Although his perch above the "Battle of the Gymnasium" left David comfortably separated from the fray, he still found himself wincing in shared pain at some of the more violent moments on the court, particularly as that one fat kid frantically dodged away from Cisco's wild toss. He didn't regret not being on the court- sure, dodgeball was exhilaratingly fun and all, but he'd taken enough balls in the face to know that 'fun' was most definitely in the eye of the ball-thrower. There were plenty of fun things to do that were worth the pain involved- parkour for certain, a fact which his aching back would testify to- but chucking balls at people wasn't one of them.
As David lost interest in watching the game and boredom inevitably began settling in, he pulled his messenger bag from his shoulder and began shuffling through folders and papers, looking for something interesting to do. Instead he found his Pre-Calculus homework, and promptly began cursing under his breath. A few more hurried movements found a pencil and a nice thick library book to write on- Catch-22, in this particular case- and David's race to finish his assignment before next period was on.
Thank God for teachers who only grade on completion.
As David lost interest in watching the game and boredom inevitably began settling in, he pulled his messenger bag from his shoulder and began shuffling through folders and papers, looking for something interesting to do. Instead he found his Pre-Calculus homework, and promptly began cursing under his breath. A few more hurried movements found a pencil and a nice thick library book to write on- Catch-22, in this particular case- and David's race to finish his assignment before next period was on.
Thank God for teachers who only grade on completion.
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selphie_trabia†
- Posts: 197
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:51 am
It seemed that Meredith was in her element... or at least as close to her element as she could possibly be. She hadn't even really budged from the place where she was standing. Every time a ball came flying at her head, she either picked it out of the air, or neatly sidestepped it.
Meredith's state of mind could be summed up easily. Right now, the only thing that really mattered to her, the only thing that made life seem worthwhile was the judicious application of dodgeballs to the her female opponent's chests and the resulting decimation of her opponent's team. The young woman was really at work, picking off the female members of the opposing team with clinical precision. She made no noise at all and didn't even pay any attention to the yells of her teammates around her, which would only have distracted her from her current fixation.
Beads of sweat began to trickle down her head. The liquid settled uncomfortably in her collar and caused her make up to bleed somewhat down her face, creating a rather macabre effect that she would normally spend hours trying to get. She would definitely have to hit the showers later.
Meredith's state of mind could be summed up easily. Right now, the only thing that really mattered to her, the only thing that made life seem worthwhile was the judicious application of dodgeballs to the her female opponent's chests and the resulting decimation of her opponent's team. The young woman was really at work, picking off the female members of the opposing team with clinical precision. She made no noise at all and didn't even pay any attention to the yells of her teammates around her, which would only have distracted her from her current fixation.
Beads of sweat began to trickle down her head. The liquid settled uncomfortably in her collar and caused her make up to bleed somewhat down her face, creating a rather macabre effect that she would normally spend hours trying to get. She would definitely have to hit the showers later.
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The ranks were thinning, and quickly. Out of the thirty or so students that had begun the game, the ranks had whittled to a little more that 12 all up. His side was in the lead, what with a few more than Harold's rapidly dwindling ranks but Meredith had decimated the females on Roland's to almost nil. The girl seemed to almost be possessed, systematically taking down each of the females on his team with machine-like precision. It was tough not focusing on her terminator-esque like movements. Even so preoccupied Jason didn't need to avoid Cisco's frantic throws. The speed and strength were there in copious amounts but the boy seemed intent on hurling as much as possible as fast as possible rather than any strategic battle plan. Jason was glad sometimes he wasn't a defender on the soccer pitch. Cisco's return balls varied from unerringly accurate to the wildly hurled balls which had resulted in a few tricky plays over the last year.
Sidestepping another ball Jason jinked to one side and picked up a stationary dodge ball of his own. What with the amount of players now in the single digits it was crucial that he contributed rather than just avoiding all the problems headed his way. The only girl left on his team was screaming shrilly behind both Craig and Roland and clearly was the centre of Meridith's thoughts as she purposely picked up another ball. Hurling the ball at the girl he planted his legs in a ready stance, watching Cisco. The goalkeepers unpredictable behaviour was one of his strongest traits and people tended to underestimate him seconds before he pulled off something fantastic.
Another ball whizzed past Jason and he turned to Roland "Roland, get Cisco, he's going to ta-"
Jason paused abruptly as he saw Roland's eyes widen ever so slightly and as the hairs on the back of his neck all stood on edge. The next few milliseconds stretched out for an implausible amount of time. Jasons brain quickly referenced through his psychology textbooks, noted that the eyes widening was a response to Roland 'attending' to something new in his field of vision. Given that he was looking right at Jason would indicate that it was directly behind him and given the context it was most probably a ball of dodge ball related properties. Which would mean that Jason was about to get hit! Spinning around he half leaped, half fell to one side as a ball thundered towards him. It was too little too late as the ball rocketed towards the soccer player "Oh Shi-"
Sidestepping another ball Jason jinked to one side and picked up a stationary dodge ball of his own. What with the amount of players now in the single digits it was crucial that he contributed rather than just avoiding all the problems headed his way. The only girl left on his team was screaming shrilly behind both Craig and Roland and clearly was the centre of Meridith's thoughts as she purposely picked up another ball. Hurling the ball at the girl he planted his legs in a ready stance, watching Cisco. The goalkeepers unpredictable behaviour was one of his strongest traits and people tended to underestimate him seconds before he pulled off something fantastic.
Another ball whizzed past Jason and he turned to Roland "Roland, get Cisco, he's going to ta-"
Jason paused abruptly as he saw Roland's eyes widen ever so slightly and as the hairs on the back of his neck all stood on edge. The next few milliseconds stretched out for an implausible amount of time. Jasons brain quickly referenced through his psychology textbooks, noted that the eyes widening was a response to Roland 'attending' to something new in his field of vision. Given that he was looking right at Jason would indicate that it was directly behind him and given the context it was most probably a ball of dodge ball related properties. Which would mean that Jason was about to get hit! Spinning around he half leaped, half fell to one side as a ball thundered towards him. It was too little too late as the ball rocketed towards the soccer player "Oh Shi-"
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
Roland winced and looked away as a ball sailed through the air, right towards Jasons' face at a blistering pace. He heard the boy swear and attempt to jump out of the way, but it was too little too late.
Well, he's fucked...
Roland released his own ball towards Cisco, hoping to strike back the little green haired psycho in revenge. It looked like a good throw, he spun and rushed back towards the opposite end of the gymnasium to scoop up a loose ball and continue the assault. Roland looked up to see Craig jumping right to avoid an incoming ball, frankly he was surprised and pleased that he'd made it this far. He scooped up the ball and yelled over at Craig.
"Craig, listen, I think it's about time w-"
Before Roland could finish that thought however, a stray dodgeball smacked him in the back of the neck, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor.
"Shit!" He yelled in anger.
Harte, R - Eliminated
Roland spun around to look at the opposite team, but he couldn't identify who exactly had hit him. This is what he got for being careless, for not being 100% focused on the game, for letting those fuckers get the best of him...
Roland shook his head and breathed in and out deeply. It was just a game. Raging wasn't going to solve anything, and his team wasn't done yet. He tossed the ball over towards Craig.
"Looks like it's up to you now buddy. Kick their ass for me." He said before jumping to his feet and jogging over to the bench with the rest of his hit team members. The numbers on the court now were in the single digits, Craig, Meredith (HOW was that even possible?) and a few others, the slight advantage going to Roland's team. It wasn't over yet.
Well, he's fucked...
Roland released his own ball towards Cisco, hoping to strike back the little green haired psycho in revenge. It looked like a good throw, he spun and rushed back towards the opposite end of the gymnasium to scoop up a loose ball and continue the assault. Roland looked up to see Craig jumping right to avoid an incoming ball, frankly he was surprised and pleased that he'd made it this far. He scooped up the ball and yelled over at Craig.
"Craig, listen, I think it's about time w-"
Before Roland could finish that thought however, a stray dodgeball smacked him in the back of the neck, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor.
"Shit!" He yelled in anger.
Harte, R - Eliminated
Roland spun around to look at the opposite team, but he couldn't identify who exactly had hit him. This is what he got for being careless, for not being 100% focused on the game, for letting those fuckers get the best of him...
Roland shook his head and breathed in and out deeply. It was just a game. Raging wasn't going to solve anything, and his team wasn't done yet. He tossed the ball over towards Craig.
"Looks like it's up to you now buddy. Kick their ass for me." He said before jumping to his feet and jogging over to the bench with the rest of his hit team members. The numbers on the court now were in the single digits, Craig, Meredith (HOW was that even possible?) and a few others, the slight advantage going to Roland's team. It wasn't over yet.
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Cisco shouted "YEAH!" in an almost feral sense of glee as he could hear a loud "FWAP" as someone else's ball hit Roland. Most of the rest of the field had already gone down, the court littered with the shattered dignities and broken spirits of the fallen. Mike wasn't here, but at least here Cisco could savor the satisfaction of being the soccer team's alpha male on this court thanks to his goalie catching arms. With the enemy captain down, this was certain to be a victory Cisco would relish until the next period, at least.
At least until a ball flew straight into his solar plexus at 30 miles an hour. All of a sudden his glee - and his breath - had been forced out of him by the impact of a ball, which to him felt not unlike a jet slamming into a concrete wall. The mist and din dissipated, leaving the lime-haired goalie in a void of silence...silence long enough for him to realize that his shot at glory had ended, and death was both his fate and a very cruel mistress.
His upper body had twisted to the right from the blow, causing him to lose his balance. He fell to the side, landing flat on the wooden court that served as the battlefield. His head had turned to the side, just to watch a ball roll slowly over to him from behind...an easy catch for someone not in his apparent state.
He tried to reach for the ball, but his strength had already faded from his limbs. Soon it would all be over. He turned his head, catching Meredith in the corner of his eye.
"That was...that was a good run, eh?" he whimpered, forcing a smile as his body went limp, his vision going black as he breathed his last.
The horns at Saint Peter's gate sounded eerily like Coach Layton's whistle.
Vasquez, C - Eliminated
"Hey Cisco! Get off the field before someone trips on you!"
With a groan, Cisco slowly got back on his feet and trudged back to the bench, dazed from hitting the floor so hard. "Fine..."
At least until a ball flew straight into his solar plexus at 30 miles an hour. All of a sudden his glee - and his breath - had been forced out of him by the impact of a ball, which to him felt not unlike a jet slamming into a concrete wall. The mist and din dissipated, leaving the lime-haired goalie in a void of silence...silence long enough for him to realize that his shot at glory had ended, and death was both his fate and a very cruel mistress.
His upper body had twisted to the right from the blow, causing him to lose his balance. He fell to the side, landing flat on the wooden court that served as the battlefield. His head had turned to the side, just to watch a ball roll slowly over to him from behind...an easy catch for someone not in his apparent state.
He tried to reach for the ball, but his strength had already faded from his limbs. Soon it would all be over. He turned his head, catching Meredith in the corner of his eye.
"That was...that was a good run, eh?" he whimpered, forcing a smile as his body went limp, his vision going black as he breathed his last.
The horns at Saint Peter's gate sounded eerily like Coach Layton's whistle.
Vasquez, C - Eliminated
"Hey Cisco! Get off the field before someone trips on you!"
With a groan, Cisco slowly got back on his feet and trudged back to the bench, dazed from hitting the floor so hard. "Fine..."
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
((Actions concerning Cisco Vasquez made possible by LaZ))
By now, a certain measure of jumpiness had managed to cram itself into a body that didn't really lend itself to the 'jumpy' way of life in any shape or form. Craig had 'dodged' yet another stray throw by somebody on the other team (though even if he had stood still or even moved a little bit towards it, it probably would have still missed; any shots with real precision and he'd probably be in trouble). Anything that was even slightly spherical now was sending massive warning flags, and in order to give Newton's law of Inertia (Craig could never remember which number that was) a big middle finger, he kept his body moving back and forth, back and forth by shuffling his feet like in football practice. It kept him on his toes so he could accelerate slightly quicker than a mack truck, but it was also making his legs kill something wicked.
Just near the center of his focus, he saw Jason twist to avoid something... one of the dreaded spheres of doom, no doubt. For that one moment, Craig didn't hear the signature 'smack' of the ball striking or even grazing skin, but it did come. It came but a split second later, and he saw Roland reel from it.
Roland? ... Oh. Damn, that wasn't good...
Craig stepped away from the wall a bit, shifting his gaze between Roland and the other side of the gym, making sure to at least keep some of the tall boy between himself and any other whizzing projectiles (though Craig hiding behind Roland, or pretty much anybody else in the school, was hilariously impossible).
"Looks like it's up to you now buddy. Kick their ass for me."
"You're kidding!" Craig uttered reflexively, fumbling the ball in his hands for a few moments before finally managing a firm grip. Jason was still getting his bearings, and there were only a few people left on his team. Roland... Roland was right, he had to shoulder some of the responsibility now. He couldn't let them down, hugging the wall like a nobody until somebody beaned him with a ball!
Craig continued this internal pep-talk for a few seconds until a sharp whizzing past his ear woke him up. With a few hopping steps that sounded deeply on the floor, he brought his right arm back and let loose with a loud "GYAAAAAAAH!" He had forgotten to throw it anywhere in particular, however. Having this revelation as he was trying to regain his balance, Craig's arms reeled and his body teetered. Hopefully, Jason could help steady him or something.
With what the ball lacked in aim, it somehow made up for in sheer speed. Craig knew he didn't have much of an arm, but that didn't seem to matter with all of the momentum he put behind the poor stuffed orb. Even as he was struggling to regain his balance from his overhand, he watched in shock as his throw caught Cisco, sending the boy toppling over. Granted, that was probably because it was CISCO he threw it at, a boy with an infamous dramatic streak a lightyear wide, but it made him feel warm and buttery all the same.
By now, a certain measure of jumpiness had managed to cram itself into a body that didn't really lend itself to the 'jumpy' way of life in any shape or form. Craig had 'dodged' yet another stray throw by somebody on the other team (though even if he had stood still or even moved a little bit towards it, it probably would have still missed; any shots with real precision and he'd probably be in trouble). Anything that was even slightly spherical now was sending massive warning flags, and in order to give Newton's law of Inertia (Craig could never remember which number that was) a big middle finger, he kept his body moving back and forth, back and forth by shuffling his feet like in football practice. It kept him on his toes so he could accelerate slightly quicker than a mack truck, but it was also making his legs kill something wicked.
Just near the center of his focus, he saw Jason twist to avoid something... one of the dreaded spheres of doom, no doubt. For that one moment, Craig didn't hear the signature 'smack' of the ball striking or even grazing skin, but it did come. It came but a split second later, and he saw Roland reel from it.
Roland? ... Oh. Damn, that wasn't good...
Craig stepped away from the wall a bit, shifting his gaze between Roland and the other side of the gym, making sure to at least keep some of the tall boy between himself and any other whizzing projectiles (though Craig hiding behind Roland, or pretty much anybody else in the school, was hilariously impossible).
"Looks like it's up to you now buddy. Kick their ass for me."
"You're kidding!" Craig uttered reflexively, fumbling the ball in his hands for a few moments before finally managing a firm grip. Jason was still getting his bearings, and there were only a few people left on his team. Roland... Roland was right, he had to shoulder some of the responsibility now. He couldn't let them down, hugging the wall like a nobody until somebody beaned him with a ball!
Craig continued this internal pep-talk for a few seconds until a sharp whizzing past his ear woke him up. With a few hopping steps that sounded deeply on the floor, he brought his right arm back and let loose with a loud "GYAAAAAAAH!" He had forgotten to throw it anywhere in particular, however. Having this revelation as he was trying to regain his balance, Craig's arms reeled and his body teetered. Hopefully, Jason could help steady him or something.
With what the ball lacked in aim, it somehow made up for in sheer speed. Craig knew he didn't have much of an arm, but that didn't seem to matter with all of the momentum he put behind the poor stuffed orb. Even as he was struggling to regain his balance from his overhand, he watched in shock as his throw caught Cisco, sending the boy toppling over. Granted, that was probably because it was CISCO he threw it at, a boy with an infamous dramatic streak a lightyear wide, but it made him feel warm and buttery all the same.
When Cisco went out in his typical melodramatic way, Harold rolled his eyes. If it wasn't for that weird goth lady putting a little effort into the whole thing, his whole team would be either incompetent or just downright stupid. Just the way he hoped it would happen. Clearly, one could not judge a person by their appearance, because she was the most ferocious player he had ever seen. He would have to remember this if he ever became the captain again.
"Glad you could join us, green hair!" Harold said semi-sarcastically as Cisco took a place on the bench. "What's your name anyway? Green hair is a silly nickname."
Of course, the instant that he said that, the pudgy man instantly regretted it. What he had said could probably have been interpreted as being chummy, and he did not want to be this man's friend. It had just been intended as a way for Harold to avoid having to call the man by a dumb nickname.
Oh well, what would it hurt to be a little friendly to somebody?
"Glad you could join us, green hair!" Harold said semi-sarcastically as Cisco took a place on the bench. "What's your name anyway? Green hair is a silly nickname."
Of course, the instant that he said that, the pudgy man instantly regretted it. What he had said could probably have been interpreted as being chummy, and he did not want to be this man's friend. It had just been intended as a way for Harold to avoid having to call the man by a dumb nickname.
Oh well, what would it hurt to be a little friendly to somebody?
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Fullcircle†
- Posts: 9
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 5:00 am
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selphie_trabia†
- Posts: 197
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 7:51 am
Meredith hadn't noticed the ball flying towards her. If she did, she might have moved a little. As it was, she lobbed the ball in her hands directly at her target - the last remaining girl on Jason's team.
The two balls collided in mid-air, sending one flying towards Craig and the other skittering across the gym floor. Meredith frowned and went to grab the next ball, absolutely intent on making sure that the other girl didn't leave the gym without sporting a massive bruise on some part of her anatomy.
"ARNNGGGH!" she yelled, the only thing she'd said during the entire game.
With all the force she could muster, she charged at the other girl, then sent the ball shooting towards that girl. At the same time, she stepped on one of the balls which rolled freely on the ground.
What happened next seemed to take an eternity for Meredith, but in fact took less than ten seconds. Her high heel slipped across the ball's smooth surface, sending her tumbling backwards. Meredith executed two beautiful backwards somersaults while flapping her arms in mid-air before landing heavily on her stomach, the wind knocked completely out of her.
She groaned, her head spinning as she looked around the room, unable to stand.
The two balls collided in mid-air, sending one flying towards Craig and the other skittering across the gym floor. Meredith frowned and went to grab the next ball, absolutely intent on making sure that the other girl didn't leave the gym without sporting a massive bruise on some part of her anatomy.
"ARNNGGGH!" she yelled, the only thing she'd said during the entire game.
With all the force she could muster, she charged at the other girl, then sent the ball shooting towards that girl. At the same time, she stepped on one of the balls which rolled freely on the ground.
What happened next seemed to take an eternity for Meredith, but in fact took less than ten seconds. Her high heel slipped across the ball's smooth surface, sending her tumbling backwards. Meredith executed two beautiful backwards somersaults while flapping her arms in mid-air before landing heavily on her stomach, the wind knocked completely out of her.
She groaned, her head spinning as she looked around the room, unable to stand.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler selphie_trabia. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Jason wasn't expecting to dodge the ball that headed past him, but by some miracle it whizzed past his face. He heard the resounding sound of rubber on skin as the dodge ball hit Roland. A moment later and Craig began to somewhat fall on the smaller guy. Jason moved as fast as he could, holding out one arm to steady the gentle giant before ensuring he wasn't going to be pummeled by the opposing team. "Nice one Craig! Keep it up mate." Seconds later the sound of Meredith making a spectacular finish was heard from the other side of the court. Standing back up Jason narrowly sidestepped another projectile and took the opportunity to look around.
The teacher was rushing forward to inspect if Meredith was alright and the game had ground to a semi-halt as students peered over each other to see if the girl had been seriously injured. It was some fall. Glancing back at his team Jason couldn't help by grin. The numbers were low, on both teams. Only Craig and himself stood on their team, and Meredith was one of three left on the other. If she was stretchered out or left the game, it would be going down to the wire.
Grabbing one of the rolling balls Jason took careful aim and got ready to let loose, just as soon as the Meredith issue was resolved.
The teacher was rushing forward to inspect if Meredith was alright and the game had ground to a semi-halt as students peered over each other to see if the girl had been seriously injured. It was some fall. Glancing back at his team Jason couldn't help by grin. The numbers were low, on both teams. Only Craig and himself stood on their team, and Meredith was one of three left on the other. If she was stretchered out or left the game, it would be going down to the wire.
Grabbing one of the rolling balls Jason took careful aim and got ready to let loose, just as soon as the Meredith issue was resolved.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Fanatic. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Little Boy†
- Posts: 256
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 4:47 am
With a sigh, Roland sat down on the bench with the majority of his team, and settled into a comfortable position to watch the final minutes of the game. It was getting tense, less than 6 students still remained on the court... plus one, depending what exactly would be the Coaches' decision regarding Meredith. Roland hadn't exactly witnessed the fall, but from the resounding cacophony in the aftermath, he was assured it was a rather bad one. So bad that the Coach Layton was rushing over to make sure she was alright. As much as he tried to hide it, a smile was clearly visible on his face at the mere thought of Meredith falling on her face. Roland wished he had seen it.
That's what you get for wearing high heels in gym class. What are you, stupid?
As Roland leaned back on the bench he cursed himself silently, glancing back from one team to another. Craig and Jason remained, as did 3 kids on Harold's squad, counting Meredith. Not so bad. Better then Harold's squad at least. Roland was pleased to note that the boy seemed even more visibly ticked off, sitting on his teams' bench with Cisco. It looked like it would be an easy victory.
If it's such an easy victory, why're you on the bench? Even that weird emo chick lasted longer than you.
Roland frowned and tried to push these thoughts away. It wasn't all about him. It was his team that mattered most.
I shouldn't have turned around. I would've seen that ball if I hadn't turned around. I could've caught it and I'd still be up there with Jason and that walking wall of fa...
Roland looked up and felt a pang of guilt resonate in him. Sometimes, he really needed to grow up.
You're being juvenile, this isn't the army, it's dodgeball. You've nearly crushed the opposition, and you're bitching and calling people names. What the hell kind of Captain does that? They don't deserve that, they've done just as much as you have Roland, even more. Look-- you're done, now just pray your boys finish the job.
Roland shifted again on the bench and ran his hand through his greasy black hair. He'd worked up one hell of a sweat it seemed. He tugged on his shirt to unstuck it from his chest. The Coach was still dealing with Meredith. He hoped the girl wasn't actually hurt that bad, but after doing two backflips there was reason enough to doubt her health. Despite his dislike for her he didn't want to see anyone wheeled away on a stretcher.
"Come'on guys, you can win this." He felt his muscles tense with anticipation as the players prepared to start the game again.
That's what you get for wearing high heels in gym class. What are you, stupid?
As Roland leaned back on the bench he cursed himself silently, glancing back from one team to another. Craig and Jason remained, as did 3 kids on Harold's squad, counting Meredith. Not so bad. Better then Harold's squad at least. Roland was pleased to note that the boy seemed even more visibly ticked off, sitting on his teams' bench with Cisco. It looked like it would be an easy victory.
If it's such an easy victory, why're you on the bench? Even that weird emo chick lasted longer than you.
Roland frowned and tried to push these thoughts away. It wasn't all about him. It was his team that mattered most.
I shouldn't have turned around. I would've seen that ball if I hadn't turned around. I could've caught it and I'd still be up there with Jason and that walking wall of fa...
Roland looked up and felt a pang of guilt resonate in him. Sometimes, he really needed to grow up.
You're being juvenile, this isn't the army, it's dodgeball. You've nearly crushed the opposition, and you're bitching and calling people names. What the hell kind of Captain does that? They don't deserve that, they've done just as much as you have Roland, even more. Look-- you're done, now just pray your boys finish the job.
Roland shifted again on the bench and ran his hand through his greasy black hair. He'd worked up one hell of a sweat it seemed. He tugged on his shirt to unstuck it from his chest. The Coach was still dealing with Meredith. He hoped the girl wasn't actually hurt that bad, but after doing two backflips there was reason enough to doubt her health. Despite his dislike for her he didn't want to see anyone wheeled away on a stretcher.
"Come'on guys, you can win this." He felt his muscles tense with anticipation as the players prepared to start the game again.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.