Distraction (open)

[Alex Vasilyevich]

“When one is distracted by the future, one does not live in the present.” was Alex's new motto in life.
Or in other words “by becoming a lazy-good-for-nothing I've learned what it truly means to be alive.”

Once upon a time the only thing that Alex desired was to make his father proud. He wanted to be the son that his father bragged about at parties. For this reason he woke up every morning at five to study chess. He was talented, and dedicated. He even won the Junior Word Championship under 13 division.
But after spending two years away from his father, making him proud no longer felt so important. And after spending two years surrounded by lazy American teens Alex had learned the joys of doing what ever the hell you want when ever the hell you want. As a result of this new philosophy Alex no longer studied chess, he let his grades slip, and he gained fifteen pounds. But he drew the line at clothes. He refused to wear anything that hadn't been tailored for him.

All this is to explain why Alex was laying on the couch in the student lounge playing Call of Duty with a half eaten sandwich on his chest and two cans of soda on the floor by the sofa.
The X-box was lagging today. Or at least Alex thought it was lagging. It could be him accidentally using is power of time manipulation. (actually it probably was not lag. The Internet at Hammel was always good, and though Alex could now suppress his power almost all the time he still couldn't control it in times of stress or frustration.)
As the game informed him that yet again Alex's teem lost, Alex tossed his controller onto the couch, and bit roughly into his sandwich. “F-ing lag.” said Alex, his Russian accent coming through thicker than usual, “How the fuck am I supposed to play with lag like this?” Alex instructed the X-box to find a new game for him. As it loaded Alex finished his first can of soda. Spying the trashcan on the other side of the room, Alex tried to toss the empty can into it. He missed by a mile. “Game begins in ten seconds” announced the X-box. Alex quickly opened the second can and took a quick drink, before picking up his controller.

[Ross Valkyrie]

Ross had a pretty relaxed day compared to the other days he'd been through at Hammel. Usually he ended up feeling half-dead in his dorm after power training, but today he had only been through a few classes and no training for whatever reason.

Pushing open the wooden door to the common room, he spotted somebody he didn't know playing COD. Ever the extrovert, he sauntered over to them. "Hey, is that Advanced Warfare? What level are you?" Being that he worked most weekdays at the game dev company in Pilot Ridge, he was pretty clued up to say the least.

[Alex Vasilyevich]

Alex risked a glance at the voice directed at him. In that half second he was able to compute that it originated from a unknown male student. A short time passed as Alex processed the two questions and awkwardly (but successfully) killed an enemy. “it's Advanced Warfare” Alex replied. These words came out in a monotone rush as Alex rushed into a building for cover. “I just made Sargent. I would be higher except for this stupid lag.” As if to illustrate the point the Xbox chose this moment to lag horrible. Shots rang out as Alex franticly (but futilely) attempted to regain control of his frozen character. Meanwhile the enemy teleported hither and thither. Alex's character died.
This death was the final straw for Alex. If he were alone he would have muttered some curses and shut off the Xbox. (The hell with properly exiting the game.) He would have spent the rest of the day brooding over the injustice of Hamel's bandwidth. All this would have happened if Ross was not in the room. But because he was in the room Alex calmly exited the game correctly “that lag is just too much. Too much.” Alex's eyes wandered the room in search of something new to do.

[Ross Valkyrie]

Ross nodded, "Good game, but needs better environment interaction in my eyes. Of course, it'll always bring in the dosh from sales." The boy sat on the left arm of the sofa, swiveled to the TV. At the mention of the student's rank, Ross smirked behind his hand - he'd already managed Colonel. When the Xbox decided to suddenly rubber-band the guy's character, the alchemist frowned. The hardware should be fine, and he couldn't think of any reason for bad connection.

As the player turned off the console with an angry look about him, Ross wasn't surprised - he wouldn't give that lag to his worst enemy. "Y'know we could try and get a technopath to have a look at the thing." He gestured vaguely at the box as he talked. "That or I could bring into work and get my colleagues to fix the thing. That probably makes no sense.. I work for the gaming company in Pilot Ridge."