I would like to have my ball back please (OPEN)

[Callum Bowen-Lund]

Being recruited in the middle of summer break turned out to be quite the boon for Callum. With classes not starting for the next few weeks or so, the blonde had some time to settle in and get to know the place. True, without the full student population he wouldn’t know how crowded the hallways get or how noisy the dorms would be, but at least he won’t be that one kid who’s lost in the crowd, awkwardly clutching his schedule and institute map, hoping he didn’t walk into the wrong building. (Or at least he hoped he wouldn’t be).

Within the past five days that he’s been in the institute, he’s drooled (literally) on the state-of-the-art equipment of the training rooms, found three couples making out in janitor closets (in his defense, the doors weren’t locked), and got fished out of the pond by security when he tripped on a rock during last night’s stroll. His stroll wasn’t in vain though, as he discovered where and how huge the institute’s gymnasium really was. And while they really didn’t have an ice rink (lame!), they did have a basketball court. Beggars can’t be choosers right?

Callum’s decided to take a break from exploring (it’s the research complex he hasn’t really fully invaded yet anyway) and shoot some hoops. Take his mind off Keith not returning his messages for almost five days now. An hour into playing ball on his own, he heard footsteps but didn’t really pay them heed; he’s sweaty and disgusting, and really not in the mood to socialize at the moment. Unfortunately his ball had other plans, quickly rolling out of his grasp after being dunked on the ring by the blonde.

“Mind tossing that ball back to me?” said Callum as he wiped his forehead with his arm and pushed his hair back with his hand, panting just slightly.

[Jay Downs]

Jay walked casually around the mostly deserted gymnasium unsure of what he could even do while here. Clad in his black footwear, jeans, and a red polo with a black collar an trim on the sleeves. The teen just wanted to have some fun on this typical boring day. After all he had not done anything for the birthday he had had a few days ago except lounge around in the library hoping no one would bother him in his pitiful revelry. Sure he really could have just opened up and told people but it was just not his thing, besides it was not like any one here knew him. He was to new and a geeky jock, after all the first thing he had done while here was pull out his chess set.

Rather reclusive to those he did not know he had aimed to just head over to the bleachers with the book in his left pocket when he noticed the other kid out on the court. The ball having found its way to freedom and the other blonds call caused him to change his mind as he picked up his pace. Dipping low to scoop up the ball with his right hand he would bounce pass it off to his left as he moved to a stop and cracked his hands against the ball testing its integrity. The sound echoed in the relatively empty court.

"No problemo.", the tid bit of Spanish was unnecessary but hey it was all in good fun. After all he had a D minus in that class when he was transferred over. but on the plus side he had, No comprende en Espanol, ready in case the balls owner replied back in the foreign tongue. His five years in the Philippines and knowledge of Tagalog made Spanish a difficult chore to grasp.

Dishing the ball out into his right hand he would sling the basket ball underhanded towards his target. His finger tips seaming to roll off of the rock as he tossed it.

"Not to late to start up a game is it?", he just had to ask.

[Callum Bowen-Lund]

Callum effortlessly caught the ball with his right hand, reaching up just slightly before passing it to his left hand and putting it close to his waist. He let out a short huff and a slight chuckle when the other boy asked if he’d like to play ball. “Sure. Don’t see why it’d be too late,” he said with a shrug. He’s been playing for an hour now, sweating like a pig and slowly feeling fatigue creep all over him, but he can’t let his fitness go down just because there’s no ice rink around. If he suddenly grows a belly, he’s pretty sure Javier and Norman wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

He walked a few paces forward, just so he’s around the center circle. “Think you can play properly in that though?” he said with a smirk, his eyes briefly going from the teen’s head, to his feet, and back to his head. “I mean, jeans? Ha.” But before the other boy could think he’s subtly suggesting Callum’s not up for starting a game with, he threw the ball forward, making it bounce once on the floor and (hopefully) into his soon-to-be-opponent’s hands.

“Your move.”

[Jay Downs]

Jay never did like shorts, living in the Philippines took his love for the missing leggings from him due to the scorching sun burning any exposed skin it could find. That and the mosquitoes had feasted upon his legs every time he had warn shorts thus he had learned to be just as active in jeans as much as he could in shorts. Besides his meta ability focused on the physical side, a pick up game could not be that bad, not to mention in the Philippines you could find a basketball hoop on nearly every block. Jay had even played a game of seven on seven with a hoop tacked to a dead tree without a net on a court of uneven bare earth during a middle school outing to the less fortunate side of town. It was memories like that, that made having been a missionary kid so grand.

Snapping back to the present as the ball bounced on the court to him he would catch it turning it into a dribble with the tips of his right fingers. His right foot would take a step forward as the ball hit the ground. His body already using the right foot as a focal point as his left hand snagged the ball as it bounced up. Pulling the sphere around his body as he spun counter clockwise aiming to throw off his opponent.

His left hand pushing the ball back to the ground his body would move forward to catch it in a right handed dribble while keeping his body between the ball and his newly found opponent,"Don't worry, jeans are my standard wear for everything."

[Callum Bowen-Lund]

When he saw the other boy catch the ball, Callum jumped in and went into the offensive. He did give the boy enough warning (at least in his eyes), so he shouldn’t be expected to wait there for a couple more seconds just to let his opponent warm up. He was the one who challenged Callum when he’s currently wearing jeans. If he wanted to give the Canadian more of an upper hand by not warming up, then so be it.

He’s not going to say no to an easy win.

The thought made a cocking grin appear on his face as he charged forward. The court may not be as slippery as an ice rink, but it should have the same principles right? And as long as he toned down the physicality he’s used to with hockey, the ball should be his easy, right?

Wrong.

Not if the other boy kept up with that counter clockwise turn that seriously caught him off-guard, even freezing him for a second.

“Damn. Boy’s got moves,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head as he ran behind his opponent, actively telling himself not to shove too much as soon as contact has been made. “Oops. Sorry,” he added, realizing he might’ve pushed a little too hard, “I’m a hockey player. Old habits die hard.” He was getting a bit frustrated as how every move he made, the other boy simply blocked him off. Another thing that he loved about being on ice was the speed that he could reach, something that his sneakers on the school’s court just couldn’t give him.

Well he’ll be good as long as he kept the boy out of shooting range, right?

ooc:
Sorry it took a while. D:
- Jam