Duck, Wild Ball! [OPEN]

[Damien & Darcy Rittley]

"Look at that! All clear!" Darcy bounded into the training field, tossing his soccer ball into the air and landing it in a spin on his finger. It lasted only a moment before wobbling, but then he simply twisted around and chucked it back at Damien.

Damien one-handed caught it and tossed it to the ground. "Mostly clear," he corrected as they caught sight of a few scattered people, probably either fellow teachers enjoying the air, or students practicing their powers. Or enjoying the air as well, that past-time wasn't restricted only to boring, old people.

Of course... Technically they were sort've "boring, old people" now, if they'd been using the standards of when they used to be students here. Damien and Darcy grinned at the idea. Ah, life.

"Let's do this!" Damien kicked the ball to Darcy before taking off down the field. Soccer, it was one thing that had stuck with them throughout everything. Both before and after manifestation, it had something they'd been passionate about. Then they'd discovered sports in general were from heaven.

The twins continued kicking the soccer ball up and down the field. Eventually they would probably switch to football, since that was what they actually coached there, but just because they'd come to love football almost as much as soccer, didn't mean that soccer wasn't their first love of sports. Even though they hadn't managed to practice it much lately.

Darcy gave the soccer a somewhat more enthusiastic kick than he'd intended, and the ball hurtled off unchecked. "Uh..."

"Oh..." Damien bolted after the ball, trying to intercept it. However, it got past his guard, and he heard a startled sound from somewhere behind him. "Oh dang," they gasped as they turned to see who the unfortunate person was.

[Miles Daugherty]

Usually when Miles wanted to unwind and have relax a little, he retreated to his closet. He had created a safe space for himself there. No metal. No yellow. And no one to touch or bother him.

Still the outdoors was another place where he could go to get away from his dislikes. Although the sun was yellow, or so the cartoons said, you weren't allowed to look directly at it so he didn't have to worry about that. Also there wasn't much metal in the great outdoors, so he didn't have to worry about his ability freaking him out.

The only real problem was the people. Especially when it was nice out. Still there was enough space that he didn't have to worry about it too much.

He had his button collection with him and was working on re-sorting it for the millionth time. At the moment he was sorting by size. He had a divided plastic carrying case for keeping them all together and separated.

He was happily enjoying his own little world with his buttons when from out of nowhere a soccer ball flew and hit him in the head. He screamed. Not only from the sudden shock or the bump in the head. But also because the ball had hit his collection scattering the buttons everywhere. It wasn't too much of a disaster really, but enough to set him off.

"No no no no," he yelled, rocking a little as he stared down at the mess. "My buttons!" He was two seconds away from either crying or punching something.

[Damien & Darcy Rittley]

Oh no. Oh no no no.

Damien and Darcy bolted to the kid, perfectly horrified. "Hey, hey, are you all right?" they both started, before they began unconsciously taking turns talking, too worried to care when they did notice.

"We totally didn't mean for that to happen--"

"Is your head all right?"

"What was in the..."

"Buttons?" Damien asked as he recalled the boys' earlier words. "We can help you find them again, okay?" he offered, hoping to calm the boy. He looked upset, extremely upset. Couldn't blame the kid, either-- he'd just been smacked in the head with a soccer ball, which was bad enough, but also obviously lost something important to him in the grass.

By this point, they were both kneeling in front of the boy, Darcy already starting to look for buttons on the ground, and Damien insisting on inspecting the boy's head to ensure there wasn't any blood or something equally problematic. They felt horrible, of course. It would figure that they would be the teachers to about brain a kid with a soccer ball. Neither of them could think of another teacher who had done that.

Oh god, I hope we don't get sued or something...

Or have given the kid a concussion...

Or both...

Ugh... Fail times ten.

[Miles Daugherty]

This was why Miles preferred the indoors. More specifically why he preferred his closet. People were just too unpredictable and loud and messy. He didn't care so much about the bump on the head, the pain was already fading away, but he scrambled quickly to start to collect his precious buttons from the grass. Luckily he had been in the middle of sorting them when they had spilled, so there wasn't the added upset of them suddenly being out of order as well. If that had happened, it would have been near impossible for him to keep from loosing it. As it was he was rocking back and forth, one sleeve stuffed in his mouth, and the other hand combing through the grass.

He jumped a little when two men ran over to him. He didn't look up at them, but kept his head turned down towards the grass. "My buttons." he said again, this time a less of a yell. "Help? Please thank you."

Miles still hadn't connect the flying soccer ball and these two men. He just figured they were teachers. And teachers were always supposed to make sure you were okay and help out, right? Still he hoped the wouldn't touch him.

[Damien & Darcy Rittley]

The kid was staying focused on finding his buttons-- though he did take the time to express acceptance of their help. That was a good thing at least; he didn't seem angry. Now hopefully they could just help get all his buttons back.

Assured that the kid's head wasn't during into a goose-egg, or bleeding profusely, Damien joined Darcy in the great button search. "You have a lot of these," Darcy commented. "They're pretty cool! You collect them?" He dropped the several buttons he'd found into Damien's hands, who in turn began to put them back in the boy's box. However, he paused a moment on noticing the different compartments in the box.

"We sorting these?" he asked, perfectly ready to help with the task, and beginning to do so without waiting for the answer. If the boy said no, then he could always just start dumping the buttons in unorganized. Wouldn't hurt anything, after all.

"How long have you been collecting?" Darcy inquired after his twin's question. They'd found the concept of collecting things interesting for a long time, but had never stuck with it for any length of time. They found it pretty impressive that this kid already had a pretty good collection.

[Miles Daugherty]

Even if Miles' head had been turning into a goose-egg, he'd be more concerned about his buttons. Though pain was...painful, he was very attached to his collection. There wasn't much that could tear him away from it.

"Yes," Miles answered simply, dropping the buttons back into the box. He didn't really have to worry about order or sorting at the moment, so he was just dropping them into whichever hole as fast as he could.

"I was. But then that ball hit me. So I'm not anymore," Miles explained. He still hadn't mad the connection that these men had been the one to kick the ball. "Will you help me find them? Please and thank you?" He still hadn't looked up at either man either. Though that was pretty normal for Miles even if he hadn't been to busy looking through the grass. Still he could see that they were kneeling down, close enough that they could help if they wanted. He pushed his box a little closer to them. "They go in here."

"My mom told me when I was five a button fell off her dress and I took and and wouldn't give it back. That was very wrong. But she let me keep it anyway." And so the great button collection had began. Of course when Mile's power manifested he'd reduced his collection since a lot of his old buttons had metal on them. His mother still kept them though in a tin labeled - Miles': Don't touch, on the hopes that one day he could take them back.

[Damien & Darcy Rittley]

Damien and Darcy noted that they boy wasn't bothering about sorting his buttons at the moment, and so quickly adjusted their button picking up in kind-- focusing more on finding the little pieces of wood and plastic rather than sorting them. They could always ask later if the boy wanted help sorting, after all.

"Yeah... Really sorry about the ball." Darcy winced, attention on plopping the buttons onto Damien's palm, who in turn deposited them into the boy's box. "Didn't see you and then... well, we should have been paying more attention around here."

Damien nodded in agreement. "We'll get your buttons back though, don't worry."

They listened curiously to the boy's explanation about his collection, before Darcy asked, "Do you still have that first button?" It'd be pretty cool if he did. Keeping it since he was five would definitely be an accomplishment in his book, though he wasn't sure exactly how old the boy was.

Speaking of which, they couldn't keep thinking of the boy as "the boy"...

"We're Damien and Darcy, by the way," Damien said as he slowed the button search, fairly certain they'd appropriately scoured the area for buttons by this point. Just to be sure, however, Darcy fanned out a bit to search a little further away, in case any buttons had been propelled a greater distance off.

"Your name is...?"

[Miles Daugherty]

Miles was starting to calm down a little. There were only a few more buttons in the grass out of his reach and one of the men was already getting them. He wouldn't feel completely at ease until he got them back in his room and really had the time to go through them all. He kept a list of how many he had in his room so he would know if he was missing any.

He had no clue why the men were apologizing. Maybe they had some sort of ball shooting ability. It was all too confusing with all of the different powers at Hammel. It seemed like anyone could do anything and suddenly all of the rules that he'd been taught didn't exist anymore.

Still, it was nice that they were helping. Which meant they had to be teachers, right? Teachers had to help students. It was their job. "You're nice," Miles said simply.

He shook his head once at the question. As much as he wished he still had that first button, it was a metal button. And therefore he was afraid to touch it anymore. It was sad because he had really liked it.

Miles glanced up at the men when they said their names, like he had been conditioned. Still, it was a bit odd for them to use their first names. Weren't teachers supposed to be Misters? Maybe they didn't have last names.

For a moment he didn't realize they were asking for his name. He waited for them to finish the sentence for a moment. When they didn't he figured he should help them out. Like his teacher did when he couldn't think of a word.

"Miles." He said, pointing to his chest with one finger. "I'm glad you're not strangers anymore. Are we friends now?" Neo had told him it took more than knowing someone's name to be friends. But maybe knowing their names and getting their help was enough. And he'd helped them too when they couldn't think of his name. But maybe teachers and students couldn't be friends, so he figured he would ask.

[Damien & Darcy Rittley]

Damien and Darcy grinned a bit at the boy's statement that they were nice. Good-- that must've meant that there were no hard feelings about the ball. Sure, it had been an accident, but it still shouldn't have happened. They had no wish to scar a kid for life. Especially with a soccer ball.

They received a somewhat odd look when they introduced themselves, and were somewhat puzzled by it. Sure, they'd been teaching at Hammel for about a year now, and had coached soccer and football long before that, but they still hadn't quite adjusted to being called "Mr. Rittley". It just sounded so... old. Nah, they wouldn't take that on until they were old, old men with grey hair and dentures. People on the football team called them Coach, of course, but that was different...

Ah, so the kid's name was Miles. "That's a good name," Damien stated with a nod. The fact Miles knew his name also eased the residual worry that the ball hadn't done any real damage.

Darcy returned with the last couple buttons he could find and dropped them in the box, grinning as Miles posed the question. "We're down for being friends if you are." He offered a fistbump.

Yes, it was true they held a looser relationship with students than some professors, but they didn't figure that was wrong, so long as they could still maintain respect and control. Who was to say you couldn't have respect while being amicable with students? They were all on the same team, after all. And yes, there was their coaching mindset coming in. Speaking of which...

"Have you ever played soccer? I bet you'd be good at it?"

[Miles Daugherty]

With all the buttons back in the box, Miles snapped the lid shut. Looking at the teachers he gave them a forced smile. Not that he wasn't happy and thankful. Just that sometimes it was hard for him to genuinely smile. His mouth just didn't do it naturally. "Thank you. Thank you." he said toward each man.

Miles nodded. He thought his names was pretty good too. Of course it was his name, so he figured he would probably have to like it even if it was a bad name. "Miles with a capital 'M' is me. Not like the other miles you drive in a car." he added. It had been something that had tripped him up for a while when he was younger. He wanted to make sure Damien and Darcy knew the difference.

Again Miles was confused. Like sarcasm, slang sometimes confused the young boy. He chewed on his sleeve a bit staring nervously at the outstretched fist. "What does 'down for' mean?" he asked. Maybe a down friend was a small friend? He was much shorter than the teachers.

"I only play soccer in gym class," Miles added. Though he didn't mind kicking a ball around, he would much rather kick one up against the wall than with another student.

[Damien & Darcy Rittley]

"Aw, don't mention it." Darcy waved the thank you. "It was our fault, so it's our pleasure, of course." He grinned. "Not that we don't appreciate the manners, of course. Not everyone has those these days." He ruffled Miles' hair, more out of habit than anything. When it came to the younger boys, Damien and Darcy tended to view them as younger brothers just as much as students. Especially out of the classroom.

"Ahhh.... Right." Damien nodded seriously to Miles' explanation of his name. "Glad you mentioned that, mighta gotten it mixed up." He winked. "It must be kind've confusing to have a name that actually has a meaning, huh? My brother and I kinda have it easy, I guess."

What does "down for" mean? Right, sometimes the younger ones didn't have the whole slang thing down yet... "Oh, it just means that we'd love it." Darcy nodded quickly.

"Sorry, he talks kinda weird sometimes." Damien gave Darcy a shove, smirking as he did. Sure, they were the same person, really, but teasing was habitual, and it often put kids at ease anyway.

"Do you like it in gym class?" Darcy inquired, hopeful. "Soccer is just as fun to play outside of gym class as in, you know. It isn't just for gym."

[Miles Daugherty]

Miles nodded in agreement. He thought a lot of the students at Hammel could use a lesson in manners. They were all too loud, too hurried, and often too close for comfort. Of course not all of that could be cured with manners, but Miles thought it couldn't hurt.

He ducked out of the way as Darcy reached out to ruffle his hair. Luckily the man only manged to brush a few of his hairs.

"I don't like that," Miles said, a bit forcefully. If his face had been wearing an expression, it would have been a glare. He started to chew on his sleeve hoping that the teacher wouldn't do that again. Miles couldn't stand being touched by other people. Especially people he had just met. Even if they were nice teachers who had just helped him pick up all of his buttons.

"My mom taught me the difference," Miles explained. She had always been Miles' best and favorite teacher, even though she wasn't really one.

Miles paused, trying to mentally add the definition of 'down for' into his dictionary. Why did there have to be so many words that all meant the same thing. "We can be friends. But I like my friends not to touch me." Though it was nice to have a friend. His tutor was always trying to get him to make friends. He hoped teachers could count.

While most kids might have been put at east by the playful shoving, Miles didn't understand the concept. To him a shove was a shove. And it was never a good thing. "You shouldn't shove people. It's not nice.," he said, staring at Damien's knees and explaining the it like a rule he was teaching a young child.

"No I do not like anything gym class. There are too many people," he explained. Usually in class Miles was too busy avoiding the other students to actually enjoy himself. "How can you play soccer outside of gym class? Without a team?" In Miles' mind soccer was only soccer if there were teams, jerseys, goalies, and all that. Otherwise you were just kicking a ball around.

Miles preferred just kicking a ball around.

[Damien & Darcy Rittley]

Darcy pulled his hand back when Miles ducked away from the hair ruffle. Oops. "Sorry," he said quickly. Despite he and his brother's tendency toward physical displays of affection, they also knew that some people were not nearly as comfortable with it. "We'll remember that-- no invading Miles' bubble." He offered a smile, ready to move on and not give the matter anymore attention. All the same, they couldn't help but wonder if there was a specific reason he disliked the contact.

Damien nodded as Miles explained about his mom. "She sounds like a really good mom, then," he stated. They had to love it when parents actually did their jobs so their kids liked them and had positive experiences rather than being scarred for life. Not that they had any experience with bad parents--they both loved their parents-- but they had students that weren't so fortunate.

"All right, I'll put that in our friend agreement." Damien grinned. "No touching."

Darcy gave a nod of agreement to what his brother said. "Do you like high-five's though?" he questioned. Sometimes there were exceptions, and since they had grown up in a pretty demonstrative family, the idea of being able to connect with someone with out some sort of contact was a foreign one. Sure, it had been a year since they started teaching, but they were still adapting and learning.

Damien blinked at the student's admonishment, though he smiled a moment later. "You're right, it isn't nice to shove people... In our friend agreement though, Darcy and I decided it's okay to shove each other so long as we're just joking. And we don't shove each other into a lake or something." He laughed.

Aw, how could someone not like gym class? What a sad thought... Of course, they knew full well that some kids just didn't have that interest, but it was still sad.

"Oh, without a gym class soccer is just kinda kicking the ball back and forth and trying to get it to go where we want it to." Darcy nodded. "It's kinda different from real soccer, I guess."

[Miles Daugherty]

Again, Miles was confused. He wasn't a bubble. Maybe it was a code word. Still as long as it meant that the men knew he didn't like touching, they could use whatever word they wanted.

At this point, or perhaps before this point, it might have been helpful if Miles was in the habit of telling people that he was Autistic. Even though he wasn't ashamed of his condition, for lack of a better word, Miles wasn't the type to often offer information. It helped that his teachers and roommates were all told by a third party - usually his tutor.

"Really good mom," Miles echoed with a quick nod. He really missed having her at school. Though his older sister was here. And his tutor was also really good. It had taken him a while to adjust to days without her. Of course she visited, wrote, and sent fun packages. But it wasn't the same.

Miles loved the idea of a friend agreement. Then again anything that had rules, order, and a laid out plan was wonderful to him. It made him feel comfortable and at east to know exactly what he could expect would or would not happen in a given situation.

"Sometimes yes. Sometimes no," he answered. Though Miles didn't like anyone touching him, sometimes it was okay. High fives were good because he always had the option to leave the other person 'hanging' - a term his older sister taught him. "Sometimes I like to leave you hanging." He said the word slowly as if he wasn't sure he was using it correctly.

Again Miles was put at east. Though he had no idea why anyone would put that shoving was okay in their friend agreement, as long as they were following their rules it was okay. "That's okay then," Miles agreed. "I'm glad you like rules."

"I like to kick balls back and forth," Miles added. "But only if my buttons are safe." Usually that meant back in his room and far away from any flaying balls, but sometimes it just meant in his backpack and out of the direct line of fire.

[Damien & Darcy Rittley]

D&D noticed Miles' confusion, and were perfectly prepared to help explain things if he asked. However, he did, and so they saw no reason to poke at the matter. As long as the kid was happy, that's what mattered.

They nodded when Miles echoed their comment about his mom, agreeing. Damien smiled. Family seemed to be a pretty safe subject so far, so he decided to stick with it for now. "We have a pretty awesome mom too. Do you have a big family? We were an only child in ours." He chuckled. Of course, since they had been separate people back then, technically they hadn't been only children, but the thought was almost a foreign one now. It was more than a little weird to think back to the days when they'd had separate consciences.

Damien and Darcy had found that "friend agreements" were sometimes the easiest ways to help students get along with others. Or be comfortable with others even, because they'd know what to expect. It seemed a lot of times it was the unpredictability that scared students away from making new friends. Of course, friend agreements were also hopefully something that they would grow out of eventually, since such things weren't completely practical in adult life, but they'd found it to be a good tool anyway.

"Aw, okay." Darcy laughed. "I'll keep that in mind then, before I give you a high-five."

"It is kinda fun to leave people hanging sometimes," Damien mused in addition, before responding to the next comment: "I'm glad you like rules too! It's always a pleasure to meet another rule-follower." He gave a brief salute-like motion. Of course, when they'd attended Hammel, they'd been far from rule-followers for most of the time.

"You wanna kick the ball around with us, then?" Darcy asked. "If we put your buttons over there by our backpacks, I'm sure they'd be safe. Much as they enjoyed chatting with students, they also liked to introduce them to sports and try to show how awesome they were. ... Especially so for Miles, since he'd just gotten hit in the head with a ball and dropped his buttons. They didn't want him to decide to dislike sports because of that incident.