Practice (Football players!)

[syd]

Bryce lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He always did this in the morning, just doing nothing but thinking. But soon it got boring, and he forced himself to get up from the comfy covers. He put on a tank top and went downstairs. His son Hunter was gone, probably off in the city or at a friends house. He didn't mind his son going out and exploring, after all he was a teenager and he had powers to protect him. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat at the table, noticing the time was 9:43.

Realizing what time it was, Bryce ate his cereal faster. Practice was at eleven, and traffic was always hectic. He dashed upstairs, taking a quick shower, then brushing his teeth, doing everything he always did in the morning. He then got out his duffel bag and made sure to pack everything that he needed. It wasn't much really, a lot of equipment was left at the arena. He packed some training clothes, his practice uniform, and a towel. Making sure he didn't leave anything behind, he headed outside to his car and drove off towards the city.

Stupid light won't change! Bryce hated when it was this busy. So many cars and so little streets. The red light still shone, making more and more cars stop. Bryce wasn't able to control technology, but his electricity powers would may be able to change it. he rolled his window down and shot a quick spark, and to his satisfaction, it changed. Ha! Nothing messes with Number 12!

By the time Bryce got to the arena, it was almost ten-thirty. He went in and headed to the locker rooms to change, finding his pads and helmet and putting them on. He loved the fit, it was comfortable and it was something Bryce loved getting into. He headed out to the practice field, looking for some of his other teammates. A couple of them were warming up, other talking. Bryce didn't really see anyone he usually hung out with, so he started to stretch a little as he waited for more players to show up.

[Gig♠ntick]

"Mmmmmmmmmrmughrm."

...Is the best representation of the sound made as a thick, tanned hand slithered from under the massive comforter to grope at the alarm clock and hit the snooze button. Ten minutes later, the loud buzz of the alarm infiltrated the air again. This time, a sleepy head followed the hand that pulled the alarm nearer to his face as if her were near-sighted. He sighed wearily as the time registered in his mind. 10:05.

Rolling toward the edge of the bed, Mance twisted his way out of the blankets in an epic battle before standing, pausing to gain a sense of balance, and grabbing his overstuffed duffel bag and helmet from the ground by the bedroom door. Then he vanished...

...to appear in the shower stalls of the locker room. No one was around to notice, as usual. Most folks preferred their own showers to the copper-scented well water that spurted in fits from the old showerheads from even older pipes. They were fine by Mance, especially if it meant he could teleport to practice. He wasn't completely lazy, of course. He would run home after practice. It was all for a greater good.

Finishing his morning routine in twenty minutes, which included a shower of varying temperature, simultaneous teeth-brushing, and vigorous hair-toweling at his locker, Mance geared up, shook the last of the sleep from his head, and headed out to join the team.

Strolling onto the field, he spotted Bryce warming up all by his lonesome. For want of company and a need to test his voice today, he strolled up and started in on a set of stretches.

"Good morning," he greeted, always with a strange undertone of sarcasm coloring his speech. "Another great day for practice, eh?"

[syd]

Ah... that feels pretty good Bryce thought as he reached side-wards, then switched to the other side. He actually liked stretching, it felt good, and plus it would make sure he wouldn't get hurt. He hardly did injure himself playing his favorite sport, but the one time he did he hated it. Sitting on his couch with his son, icing his twisted ankle while he watched his team play, wanting to jump into the game and just play.

Bryce snapped out of his flashback, hearing a familiar voice. It was the Wolves kicker, Mance. He was just a few years younger then Bryce, but his looks made him look even younger. "Morning' he replied, trying to sound energetic even though he knew practice was going to be the same as usual. Running, drills, some water breaks, and maybe a quick practice game. "Yeah true. Gotta get ready for the game.". Bryce knew he was ready, as they were going to play against their rivals. his thought were interrupted by a loud whistle, which signaled the start of practice. Bryce stopped stretching and turned to Mance. "Ready?" he asked as he got ready to head over to the rest of the team.

ooc: Do they know about each other powers?

[Gig♠ntick]

ooc: I don't see why not. Heroes need to network too, I suppose.

Mance smiled as Bryce replied, grimacing slightly as he slowly pulled his heel to his buttocks, and turned his leg to stretch all of his quads. The older veteran was devoted to the game, for sure. 'Getting ready for the game'? If only Mance had half of his dedication, he would probably be a superstar. Or he would just be "Mance Black, that guy that kicks for the Wolves, he's pretty alright." On second thought, dedication was optional. He'd stick to not missing practices and games, it seemed to be working well for his so far. He'd also promised himself that he couldn't use any superpowers, so he was already working hard enough without being dedicated to the cause.

As the whistle blew, he dropped his leg and began jumping. "Ready?" Bryce asked. "As I'll ever be," he replied, shaking his head before high-kicking once on each leg and following the rest of the team like another 200+ lbs. heavily-padded sheep.

[syd]

Bryce stood along with the rest of the team, ready for the instructions the coach was going to give them. He hoped the practice would be simple, as their game was in just a few days. Surely, the coaches wouldn't want of his characters to get hurt or too worn out right?

Of course, they still had to run. The coach had issued a few laps around the field, the number different depending on a players position, they had to run more. Bryce, being an offensive player, had to run more. This he did not like. Thankfully, his hero-type body filled with electricity had made him tougher, which really helped. As they got ready to run, he turned to Mance. "You're lucky you don't have to run much" he said, stretching one last time.

[Gig♠ntick]

big game, lots of hard work bla bla yadday yadda bla..."

Mance's eyes drifted elsewhere, from the cluster of already-sweating defensive players to the alternates, who seemed entranced by the coaches eloquent speech. His eyes finally rolled back to attention as he started in on today's plan of action, his lazy-butted heart fluttered at the slightly reduced load, and he almost floated away as the smelly meeting broke.

Mance found the leg of a bench and pressed his toe into it to stretch his calf, as Bryce spoke again. "you're lucky you don't have to run much," he'd said, and to that Mance smiled and chuckled. "And gosh darn grateful for it. Wouldn't want to overwork my lovely, useful kicking leg, now would we?" He shook his head at his own jest, appalled by his own excess of sarcasm. If a normal man's sarcasm could power a house, Mance Black's collective sarcasm could run a nation. And or course, he wouldn't have to break a sweat.

He really should work on his effort output. He'd start by running fewer laps than the rest of the team, or course. He gave Bryce a glance to see if he was finished stretching, and started his first lap. It would be nice having a buddy along; waste of breath that it was, but there were too many lone-wolf people on the team for his tastes.

[syd]

Bryce smiled at his friends reply. He was a funny guy. A sarcastic one as well. Bryce nodded as he started running. He finished the first lap quickly, making sure to keep a steady pace so he wouldn't waste any energy. Soon he was exhausted, breathing heavily. He pushed himself for the last few yards, coming to a slow stop. He walked around, knowing he had to keep his heart pumping until it relaxed. He took a couple more breaths, heading over to get some water. He poured some of the cup on his sweaty forehead, and drank the rest, throwing the cup in a nearby trashcan.

Bryce walked back over to Mance, not tired anymore after relaxing for a few minutes. "What do you think were gonna do today?" he asked. He hoped some simple drills, not anything too tiring. Then maybe a game. Games were always fun, especially playing against your own team mates. You got to learn a lot from everyone who were different ages and had played for different teams. Bryce had only worn a Wolves jersey his entire life, and would always.

[Gig♠ntick]

Mance ran his lap lightly, hardly breathing in any exertive manner. At least he got to make up for these short runs on his run home. For all his claims of being lazy, he most certainly wasn't. He'd probably take a quick lunch at home and a short rest in the sun before heading out to the gym for some training of his own. Tonight he would probably spend out on the town. It had been a while since-

His thought was cut off as Bryce appeared again after his own laps. Mance drank slowly, feeling the cool tendrils spreading through his hot torso, before tossing the cup into the trashcan. The cup nearly missed, and a sense of dread of having to walk over to the trashcan itself built, before the cup mercifully landed amongst its brethren.

"What do you think we're going to do today?" Mance considered, and shrugged. "Whole lot of the same, I reckon. I hope not, though. I'd much rather go player-on-player. There's only so many times I can kick that ball before my memories of a higher education begin to nag at me again." He could sympathize on that note. As for Bryce and his Wolves devotion, Mance could only laugh and speculate that his swaddling clothes were a Wolves jersey and helmet. While Maple Ridge-raised, Mance had been shipped to and from Ball State, an Indiana university, and sometimes missed his cardinal-and-white jersey. More often, the after-parties, but they went hand in hand. Or drink in lap. He couldn't deny the poor school its number five party-school rating in Playboy, could he? he was given no choice but to participate. What a shame.

Back in reality, he watched as the rest of the team meandered in after them, and realized that they'd been mostly alone. He half-wondered if being a super made one stronger in general.

[syd]

"Hopefully we can practice kickoffs. Both of us are on special teams." Bryce was one of the kick returners, of course not the main one because of his age. He quickly stretched his arms again, shaking them a little. He heard the coach call the receivers over near the endzone. "Well, I gotta go. See ya in a bit," Bryce told Mance, heading off to do some catching drills.

Bryce didn't think he did very well, after all he did drop a couple of passes that were simple. He stood by the water cooler, taking slow sips until he satisfied his thirst. He waited for Mance to finish his drills. It had been a long and tiring practice, but now it looked liked they were going to finish up their practice with what he wanted- a quick game.