Wyatt Taylor
New Member
Ill get under your skin and in your mind!
Posts: 9
|
Post by Wyatt Taylor on May 25, 2008 21:39:37 GMT 1
His head twitched slightly as he move his hand up to the back of his neck to scratch the twitch leaving him satisfied as he put his arm back down. He had watched the sun set its orange and red glows now a faded memory. He reached into his black top man jeans pulling out his mobile flipping it open to see the time.
9.38pm
Flipping the phone closed again he slid it back into his jeans as he pulled his arms up onto the top of the bench resting them as they dangle next to him. His eyes scanning the park. Nothing was happening. No joggers, no dog walkers. It was empty. Well he was sat in one of the least populated areas of the park. Trees where hanging over each other you could only just see the moon between them.
It was peaceful. Safe.
Standing up he took his place. Closing his eyes his squinted his legs slightly as he held his hands out in front of them. With in seconds he was shooting out sonic waves from them. You could only just make them out. It was like water was being blasted in the air.
Opening his eyes again, “Great missed again” He complained as he looked over to see the bottle of Sprite still on the rock more then 50 feet away from him. He had been training for more then 3 hours and had managed to hit the bottle 13 times out of 40 tries.
He attempts again.
|
|
|
Post by Rowan 'Mac' McKinnon on Jun 5, 2008 1:42:52 GMT 1
Mac was not brooding! She was merely thinking deep thoughts as she trudged through the park. She'd been on the run for years now, never stopping for long and with no particular direction in mind.
But after what happened at Starbucks. And the story Kitty had dumped on her, she had a sneaking feeling she was going to have to make a decision.
She could keep running. Or stay and fight. But if she stayed she'd be on the 'side of the light'. Which was a laugh. Rowan was not a white hat! she was a killer, a thief, a thug. She'd run with the Shrikes, the most feared gang in Glasgow. She'd more than earned her place and title of Razor...who was she to take up arms in the good fight?
She was rather abruptly pulled from her musings when something opunched into her chest knocking her from her feet.
"OI!" She yelled springing up and into a ready position. Only to be confronted by some guy about 50 feet away on a bench. "The Hell...?"
|
|