savetheearth | [OPEN]

Entry tags:

[OPEN]

Who: Nicholas [

knighting] & you!
What: He's the LCHS football field practicing his kicking. Feel free to use this post as a open catch all for any Friday shenanigans if you want.
When: backdated to April 4th: Friday afternoon, after classes are over.
Where: LCHS football field
Warnings: Uh... he curses sometimes on accident?

It's Friday after classes have ended; the school still has a fair amount of people at it just before everyone heads out for weekend plans, even if those plans require staying away from the still not so cleaned up downtown. Since he's new in town, Nicholas doesn't have any plans for this Friday afternoon; and since it's a pretty nice day outside given the weather they'd been having recently, he decided to grab a bag of footballs from the athletics club at Bancroft Academy and haul them all the way to Locke City High School football field for a chance to practice his kicking.

The season won't be starting till August but it's never a bad thing to practice right?

Lining up the football on the stand he takes two steps back. He's got regular sneakers on as his cleats haven't been unpacked yet. A quick intake of breath then he's coming forward and kick- Please don't fall short, he pleads with himself. He doubts any one is watching but it'll kill his pride if the damn thing doesn't at least go through the goal posts.

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[ Prepare to have your pride greatly wounded. ]

He's not one for sports at all. The only sports that the television has ever been tuned to at home is the occasional poker championship. Off season for the Football team means other clubs can invade the field and surrounding bleachers. Of course clubs like track and volleyball are out and about, but the drama club is also just about done painting banners for the next production. Normally they might do this on the stage, but the nice weather and massive size have made the grass outside an easier alternative to clean up.

Everything has gone well, and he's been waiting around on his own for the last banner to dry. Akira is putting some cleaned brushes away in a tackle box when a football flies wide to his left and bounces haphazardly along the bleachers.

He watches the ball come to a stop, then turns his attention out to the field. One lone jock practicing his kicks. It's not even a LCHS uniform.

"You know there's no net to catch those if you're going to just kick in any direction." Akira calls, standing to retrieve the ball, pausing just long enough to nudge the dried banner over in a gentle fold, just in case the kicker's aim doesn't improve.

"I wasn't trying to kick it in that direction! I wanted it to go that direction." Nicholas answers half way to him pointing down field from him. The frown in his voice is easy to hear, as well as the snap.

Wounded pride indeed.

"Toss it here." He stops where he is, his hands out to catch the ball.

"Toss it half way across the football field? Riiiiiiighhht. Not a chance." Akira retorts, leaning forward to gather the ball up from between two metal seats before turning to walk back toward the middle of the field.

It's clear that he's not very athletic, or tall, as he comes closer. It looks like he's lost a battle with a paintbrush. His clothes are fairly thrifty, but splatted in dried and fresh paint. At least he's nice enough to wipe his hands off on his own clothes instead of the stranger's ball.

About seven feet away, Akira finally tosses it to him underhanded. "Try not to aim for my head," A brief pause as he leans toward the bleachers. "Or the banners. 'You break it, you bought it.'"

"I'll be careful!" He answers quickly, catching the ball and turning to march back to the middle of the field. His next kick though- is worse than the first. It flies completely sideways and he's really just done with this whole practice thing at that point.

"God dammit!" He's practically snarling as he turns to jog after the ball. This time the ball has hit the banner, rolling over the only still wet side. Luckily it hasn't smeared onto the banner itself, just the pavement and all over the ball.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I swear I'm not doing it on purpose." He calls as he finally makes it over to the banner and the boy. This time though, he gets a good look at the artsy kid.

No sooner does he crouch back down and begin folding over the dry section of his banner than the football grazes his right leg and hits the bleachers behind him. Akira's jaw sets as he bites his bottom lip in anger. He looks from the smeared section of the banner to the pair of feet that have come jogging up on the other side, then leans his head back. He looks directly at the stranger and his jaw softens.

"Did.. you.." He starts to say quietly, but his head flinches to the side, and then he's looking away after a moment to rummage among his supplies. Akira pulls out some white paint and fresh horsehair brush. A few drops of wet paint still managed to make it onto the banner even if they were both spared the smear of words. Although easy to miss at first glance, it does mess up two of the letters from being easily readable.

"No wonder you were practicing alone. That would be pretty embarrassing for an entire football team to see." Akira thrusts the tube of white and brush out. "I warned you. Fix it."

"It needs to say 'Locke High Drama Production' at the bottom there, not 'Druwa Production'."

Are you kidding him? Seriously? First, he kicks the ball horrible twice in a row, it even manages to land in nearly the same damn spot both times and now he's having to help fix this banner? His life sucks, really it truly does. The kid's cute though, and while the hair could be considered messy it fits him.

"You're pretty cute." He doesn't even realize he spoke out loud, making the observation as he holds his hand out to accept the paintbrush with a near pout on his face. He'll help but he's not happy about it. He didn't mean to do it, he's not that much of an asshole.

Honestly? Akira's expression contorts into confusion, eyes squinting as he looks back up while scooting over another foot to supervise. He's not used to feeling especially awkward about something, but the complement caught him off guard, especially after that feeling he got.

"Uh, ...yeah. Thanks." He responds slowly, standing to put his hands at his hips and take a step back. With a little more breathing space, he relaxes again. "But that's not getting you out of fixing this." He removes one finger to point at the banner before folding his arms defensively in front of himself. "My name's Akira." A brief pause as he gets that out of the way. "You go to Bancroft, right? They have horses there, I think?" He won't really mention the only times he's had exposure to horses were for horse races. He's steadily been avoiding the other student's gaze, attention drooping down until it stops on the laces of his shoes.

"Don't football players wear something other than tennis shoes?"

SHIT HE SAID THAT OUT LOUD!

Thank god he's got the paint brush and paint because he dips down quickly to hide the fact he totally messed up there. Thank god no one else was around! Glancing up at each question, he keeps pausing in his fixing of the mistake.

"Ah- yeah. It's why I'm here, no field for us because of the horses." Which he didn't really care about, he wasn't going to be going to the school that long anyway, just a little over a year so he wasn't really getting into the school pride thing.

He's very carefully painted in the correct letter, waving a hand over it to help it dry faster. "My cleats are still packed up. I just got here like- a week ago." He answers, squinting up at Akira. "I'm Nick, by the way. I really didn't mean to fuc- mess this up." He apologizes, cutting off his curse with a quick stumble of words.

WHY YES HE DID.

Both of his eyebrows raise in pity. He's being apologized to, and so polite about his cursing that Akira wants to laugh. His flustered mannerisms are pretty cute. "You didn't really mess it up. It's just if I had to fix it, my hand might fall off. I've done three others."

As if the very mention of it makes his hand begin aching, he begins shaking it rapidly again before kneeling down on the turf and tucking his ankles in beneath his butt, palms flat to his thighs against a pair of skinny plaid jeans. He's not concentrating on anything as the other teenager fans the banner until he's looking at his hair, and the weird way the bangs flip up along his hairline and just staring a bit.

This is making him anxious? Why is it making him anxious? It's starting to remind him of that memory when he was little. His eyes quickly dart all all over the Bancroft uniform for blood. His fingers begin to curl into the fabric of his jeans. Therapy tomorrow, Akira. You can hold it together until then.

Nicholas doesn't notice anything wrong, focusing on the banner before a smile slips on his face. "Three, shouldn't there be someone else helping you?" Short end of the stick if he had to do this all by himself.

"You didn't lose a bet did you?" Because he's had that happen before and had to do the whole teams laundry before which had almost had him gagging. Gradually he sits down on the turf, his legs bent at the knees. He's got one hand on the banner to make sure it doesn't fly off.

"I didn't have any plans tonight. Everyone else did." Akira shrugs, coming out of his own thoughts. He leans forward off his legs and lightly touches the part Nick just painted. The slightest stickiness. It'll be fine rolled against itself. "That's good. Um, just.." Akira he leans forward a bit more, careful not to put his weight on the banner, and then back onto his legs in search of the tackle box.

"You can just toss the paintbrush in there. It's dry enough." He grabs the edges and folds it on itself, and then again, rolling it the rest of the way.

Transferring his weight back to his feet, Akira stands again, converse sliding across the turf until he reaches down and picks up the football. "Don't you need someone to hold thi—"

He thought nothing of the unchewed piece of gum under the banner until it suddenly became as large as a carpet. It was just an object out of the corner of his eye until it swiped right by him as if it'd just missed a running tackle. "What the—"

Akira hops away, then gets a good look at what he assumed was Nicholas, eyes darting from the piece of gum back to the other teenager like, Are you seeing this?! Please tell me you see this?!

"What the hell?!" Akira shrieked. "Do you see this?!"

Oh he's seeing it! His eyes are wide in shock because that was flying fucking gum! GUM! What in the hell-

"What the hell- Come here!" He starts to question, his hand going out to grab at Akira when the thing turns in mid air and starts back for them, yanking him out of the way hopefully.

"That's gum- that's a stick of fucking gum!" He says aloud because he thinks he might be insane without saying it out loud.

"Uhhuh!" Akira's hands are out as they stumble away from its next tackle. This is something straight out of a weird movie. They always do something stupid like stay and tackle the monster and die, so Akira just grabs onto the back of the other student's collar and pulls. He's shorter than him by far, so he yanks him down a bit as he jerks his attention away from the sentient gum.

"Run!"

Akira definitely does that. He's not athletic by far, but in a life threatening situation, he releases Nick, leaving his bag and banners behind and takes off. He can hear Nicholas' quick steps gaining on him.

They're to the edge of the main building. Home free, he thinks, still in disbelief, only to be swooped up by the gum as it hauls butt after them. The surface feels sticky suddenly as it sweeps beneath his legs, spins him around upside down and glues into the wall of building. Akira lets out a cry of alarm as he spins, and the gum suctions him to the wall before going still. All his blood begins rushing to his head. It's a wave of vertigo he can't avoid.

The mocking imitation of a deer in headlights right now is a picture perfect representation of his face as he heaves in and out trying to catch his breath enough to release a few shaky words, "G-Get me down."

He'd tried to grab at him again, really he had but the gum had been faster this time, swooping past him and grabbing a hold of Akira before sticking both it and the boy to the wall. "How?" He questions, his hands going up in confusion before he's glancing down at his right hand. Where nothing had been before, a black saber rests now sheathed and very, very real.

"Wha-" He starts, shaking his head quickly as he yanks the sheath off and comes towards Akira. "I'm going to cut you out." He explains, working at his arms first, hopefully Akira will be able to get his hands free and brace himself on the ground so he won't hit his head.

"It's just sticking you right?" Please say yes, he's seen some pretty bad horror movies and he doesn't want to find out the thing is eating the artsy kid he'd call cute.

Akira's been sideswiped by the fact that, first of all, a sentient and giant piece of gum exists, and secondly, that Nicholas suddenly has a black sword. The pulse is thankfully, quick, and there's no blood. But this person in front of him is definitely part of these memories he's continuing to get.

Worst of all, there's a sinking feeling in his gut. His hair looks so similar, and although Akira never saw the face when he was little, the nightmare of all that blood stayed with him. There was a sword, wasn't there? Wasn't it black?

"Uh-" Is about as elegant as Akira's words can get right now as he attempts not to screech out in terror. He begins rapidly nodding while upside down once he regains his wits.

Surprisingly, gum slices pretty easily, though it sticks to the blade and it only seems to take a few cuts before it begins to stretch out, and Akira drops to the ground with a thud, landing on his head. At least it was only a foot or two, but he's doubled over, covered in gum, and clinging to the top of his head.

"Ow. Shit. That hurt."

Dropping the sword to the ground next to Akira, Nick checks him over visually for any blood or signs he'd cut him in the process of getting him down. The sword had been sharp, very sharp. It wasn't like the ornamental ones used for dress uniforms for the Marines- this was very real and could do a lot of damage if you knew how to use it.

Which he did not, thus is stayed on the grass, the tip covered in gum he'd have to peel off later. "Are you okay? I didn't cut you right?" Nick asks quickly, shifting so he can see his face easier. The moment he leans forward for a better view, the dropping sensation happens again. Fuck- he's felt this at least three times in the last week! Twice today-

He goes still as a vague memory covers his current vision and his worried frown turns annoyed. A memory of offering a boy, this boy though he had rattier hair and threadbare clothes, a position as his personal valet. And while he didn't really know what that meant he got the feeling, much like the feeling that headless body had given him, that it was important.

"Why the hell did you say no!?" He questions, blurting out his thoughts before he could stop himself. Yep- it's officially this kid will think he's crazy.

First he's concerned that he cut him, then he's yelling at him. Akira's plopped onto the grass, trying to peel sheets of wet gum off of him unsuccessfully.

"What...?" Gawking at the kicker, he starts shaking his head as he assumes that he meant an answer to the question of it was just sticking to him. "I didn't say 'no' or 'yes'?"

Yup. He thinks you're kind of crazy, and a bad aim, but... that swords brings a new wave of apprehension. "Where did you get that?" Akira reaches up to drag a whole chunk of gun off his shirt. He's not going to be able to explain a mass of gum at home.

"... The network?" Akira ventures a guess, openly approaching the subject.

Blushing bright red in embarrassment, Nick looks away from Akira when he's called out on his outburst. Maybe he can quietly escape now- hide behind the bleachers for a few hours or something while he figures out what to do with his wounded pride and this sword... but then he's mentioning the network and Nick's gaze shoots back to him with wide eyes.

"You're on it too?" He questions, kind of answering Akira's with it. "I mean... fuck- Yes, and this sword just appeared in my hand. I don't carry shit like this around all the time."

Some of the gum seems to be drying and flaking off with bits of paint. It's a lucky break to have even a little less of the sticky stuff on him. Akira looks like he just got slimed in a game show, as he continues massaging his aching head and neck.

"Yeah," He adds softly, "That's good because I might have thought you were crazy otherwise." A bit relieved that he's not, Akira smiles brightly. As he opens his eyes, they settle on the sword and apprehension seeps into his body language.

Akira holds a hand out, "Maybe you should give me that before you hurt yourself." His eyes are fixed on the blade, a frown spreading across his face. "... I.. don't really want you to carry it around."

"I can throw it in a poster tube. No one will know."

The moment his hand reaches out for it, Nick's hand is immediately pulling back, it's an instinct he's never had before and one that surprises him till he looks at the blade then to Akira.

"No- nah it's okay." He leans to the side a bit and grabs the scabbard that he'd tossed to the ground earlier. "I've got this, it'll be fine. Besides my dress uniform has a saber. I can hide it in my room no problem." Or so he says- he's pretty sure he'll have to hide it in the posters in his room or under his bed. As it is, he starts picking at the gum on the sword, which thankfully easily comes off with just a few gentle tugs.

"I don't really like swords. The first weird memory I got," Akira follows the movement as Nicholas pulls the sword away from him protectively, ".. was of a blond with a sword like that. There was a lot of blood."

His eyes flick up, searching for understanding that Akira considers that weapon dangerous. Although they've met twenty minutes ago, he's experienced the same sensation a few times. He just refuses to admit these two people are the same. It's not possible."

"I should.. g-go clean this off." Still holding his head with one hand, pushes up from the ground.

"Yeah uh- probably a good idea before it gets too set in." Nicholas says, joining him in standing, a hand held out in case Akira sways. He did hit is head, he could faint or something.

He's seen that happen when playing football. Usually from some really hard tackle or landing wrong after catching the ball.

"You gonna be okay?"

"Not in the least." Akira responds, words drawn out slowly. He's still forcing a bit of a smile. This has been really ridiculous. Nowhere near the level of giant serpent, but still dumb.

"I need to.." He stops midsentence, having forgotten what he was talking about, attention trailing off. After about ten seconds, he finally pats at his side. "My bag?" Then he remembers the banners and bag were left on the field. Another thing he can't just leave. "The banners.."

"Let me get them. Just- just stay here okay?" Nicholas says, eying him worriedly before he's running across the field towards where Akira's bag was. He grabs everything- even the tackle-box and the banners. The bag of footballs he'd brought with him is slung on one shoulder. He looks much like a pack mule when he's making his way back over.

In the time it takes Nicholas to gather up all the supplies from the field, Akira has tried rubbing his eyes. Man, he must be really dizzy. He's not familiar with things like a concussion.

He's not quite where Nicholas left him anymore. There's some gum sticking to a drinking fountain near the men's restroom. Gum on the door handle. It's easy to track him into the bathroom. Akira has pulled off an open sweater, shedding a good chunk of the gum. His face is splashed with water and he's made a vigorous attempt to clean himself off. His arms and face are clean, there's just speckling of stickiness on the collar of his t-shirt.

"Hey you shouldn't be wandering off alone." Nicholas calls into the bathroom as he wanders in, dropping some of the stuff he'd grabbed at the door. "You might have a concussion or who knows what else."

He's hanging over the sink, just kind of staring. "...hey.." The call is listless. He hasn't even turned to Nicholas as he enters. He's dropped his shirt onto the floor.

"Is it normal for people to see lights with a concussion?" Akira rubs at his eyes again. "I can't .. I can't get them to go away."

"Shit." Nicholas is coming over and putting a supporting hand on his shoulder. "Yeah- c'mon the nurse should still be here right? Schools not been out for too long but we need them to check you out real quick. See if you need to go to the hospital."

He's had a concussion once, he still remembers how scared he'd been because he'd just been a kid and had Freya crying over him getting hurt.

Well, he didn't expect that his afternoon would go from painting to having footballs kicked at his head, a strip of gum attacking him, and getting a concussion.

Nicholas' steering him along, but then there's a bit of resistance. "Nurse is the other way," Akira explains with a weak chuckle. The hallway is mostly empty, but there are still some clubs finishing up.

As they pass a door, Akira pauses. "We can leave the banners here," With a light gesture toward a double set of doors, "The drama room." It's the auditorium, easy to tell by the way it has a school entrance and is easy to find. His attention raises to Nicholas, eyes squinting at his face. There's still a lot of lights. Akira's attention gets distracted on them where they float around passed Nicholas' head.

He stops just outside the nurses room, someone is in there, he can hear them shuffling but he stops because there's that damn dropping sensation again.

Pausing, his hand grips on Akira's shoulder before he finally takes a stuttering breath and chuckles a little. No fucking way.

"Hey let me see your eyes real quick." He says, shifting so he's in front of him and already moving some of Akira's bangs to the side to see his eyes. This is pretty forward even for him but he has to check.

Where dark brown, nearly black, eyes were on the football field, Akira's eyes have changed now. They're solid black, and golden lights are floating around in them, reflecting slight ringed designs around the iris.

That is pretty forward! Akira stiffens awkwardly, already entertaining weird thoughts in his head. Maybe this guy kicked the ball toward him purposely. Maybe he's making a move on him. Oh my god that's embarrassing! Is he really making a move? That comment earlier and now he's using a dumb excuse like his eyes to get all close.

".. What are you doing?" He manages, able to feel the way his cheeks begin burning. There's no real filter here, so his eyes roll to the side, avoidably after Nicholas gets one good look. "Wow. This, this is really awkward. If you were trying to kiss me... you know dating and stuff normally happens first. I've known you all of an hour? And I'm not gay.. or I don't think I am? I don't know." He adds nonchalantly. Obviously that topic isn't taboo with him or his family, but he felt the need to blurt it out.

There's two seconds of him just standing there blushing before he backs up quickly his hands up in the air in front of him. "What? No. Fuck no! I'm not making a pass at you!" He stutters out, his voice loud.

"No no, your concussion! I was checking because of your concussion!" He damn near shouts, back up another step and while it sounds all well and good there's still a blush on his cheeks.

Thankfully though he's saved by the nurse actually opening the door, presumably because he was making such a fuss outside of it.

Akira looks skeptical, but still confused. The nurse has already heard all that she needs to hear - the word concussion. Akira can hear her questioning the Bancroft student what happened. Did he hit his head?

He's being steered into the room. It's strange how much this slightly out of body and surreal experience feels right at home. Sit or lie down. Don't go to sleep. Keep your head propped. There's something about a mild concussion in there, and the nurse telling Nicholas to keep an eye on him while she calls Akira's parents.

Akira shifts from staring at the privacy curtains to turning his head toward Nicolas. "You're lucky you have all that junk... she didn't notice you have a sword."

Akira's voice snaps Nicholas out of whatever little world he'd been in, watching the other teen being examined before finally being told to rest for a while. Somehow he'd been roped into staying with him to make sure he was okay till his parents showed up.

"You're in drama right? Prop sword." He answers with a grin. He wasn't necessarily good at lying but it was an easy one to tell and it made perfect sense.

"So.. you're a part of that network... um- how long?"

Akira tosses a complement his way, smiling slightly, "Nice idea." He hadn't really thought of using school as an excuse to be carrying things like that around, but it'd definitely work.

"My first echo was when I was little,"... As he starts to explain, Akira can feel the first tightness of an anxiety attack coming on. "I've only been reading the network for two months or so— Listen,"

He seems to be rushing his sentences. The last thing he wants is to have a panic moment in front of a stranger. Although he's not quite sure how much of a stranger this person was in a former life. "I'm good here. Thanks for helping, but you don't have to stay."

The chair he'd been told to sit in is right next to the bed Akira is in so he's able to hear him clearly even if he doesn't speak loudly. The compliment gets a smile out of him, praise of any kind was always a plus, right?

He'd been ready to stay till Akira could leave, maybe question him a bit about the network while he had a live person in front of him- instead he's being told he can go. Should he stay? "You sure? I can stay for a bit until your parents get here." He's worried about leaving him alone without the nurse.

"I'll probably go to the doctor." He admits, "The nurse said it was a mild concussion, but I'm still seeing this.. this..." Akira waves his hand in the air, unable to explain properly.

"Here, though.." He bends until he's able to scoop up the tackle box and rummages around inside the case until he pulls out a blue marker. There's nothing inside to write on. Akira motions for him to give him something. A piece of paper, a book, hand, arm. He doesn't care.

As soon as he does, Akira starts writing down his network number. It's a struggle to remember all the digits, but then it comes to mind pretty clearly again and he has no problem finishing the long string of numbers.

"There."

It ends up being a hand that is written on, the back to be specific and he's glad there's some dashes in the numbers because he's read that you could start communication on your own skin and that's creepy. He'll transfer it to his phone when he gets back to the school, if he'd had it with him he could have just put it in now but of course- it's back in his dorm on his desk.

"You're sure? I mean it- I don't want to find out you slipped into a coma or something just after I left." Talk about guilt if that happened. "I'll contact you when I get back to my dorm- just let me know you didn't die okay?" He's probably being over dramatic, but this has been a very weird day and the kid still has some gum in his hair.

Also the fact he might know him from this 'past life' bullshit? Doubly worried about him disappearing.

"Fine, fine.." Akira complies, lifting a hand to wave it in Nicholas' direction with a convincing smile. "It's not like I haven't been hit on the head before.

"Please let my tombstone never read, 'He didn't make it out of a sticky situation'." With that, he's shooting him away toward the door. It's pointless to stand there and worry.

And he's been officially shoved from the room. With a little sway back and forth in indecision he finally leaves grabbing his stuff from the doorway and starting the long walk back to his dorm.

What a day!

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