[center] [img]http://i63.tinypic.com/2ijgg9d.jpg[/img][img]http://i65.tinypic.com/28hztyw.png[/img] September 5th, Early Morning Track and Field[/center] Another sleepless night, but at least it was behind him. Just one more day to go. 24 hours. It couldn’t be that hard. Sander crawled out his bed, then once again began going through his morning routines with practiced motions. Just as he was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, he thought about his plan for the day, only to come up blank. A trip in town would be out of the question; he went there last night to pick up a pair of sunglasses and already they had given him strange looks, despite the scarf that hid his mark. He didn’t think he was fitted for human interactions at this stage. Ground Zero seemed like a better alternative, but he knew going down there without his fix would bring nothing but frustration and pain. The thought of food just turned his stomach and brought back memories of yesterday. He really didn’t think he wanted any coffee at this time. It was then he caught sight of the green shoe box he left at the foot of his bed. Those were running shoes; a gift that barely saw the light of day, since the last facility he was at didn’t have a track field. He worked his jaws and considered his options. It was cold outside. He could barely make it up a flight of stairs without stopping to catch his breath. His only hoodie was ruined. But he had to do something. Anything was better than nothing. And so it was decided. Sander put on a pair of shorts and plain T shirts. He eyed the hoodie for the longest of time, before finally caved, slipping it on as well. However, he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. The track wasn’t that hard to find, though it was far bigger than Sander imagined. He exhaled, pushing a clouded breath through the air, then got started on his warm ups. It took him a few quick breaks to get through all of them, but he managed. Then he took to the track next. Back in his best days, he could do around 5 laps easily. He wasn’t sure about now, though. There was only one way to find out. Half way through his first lap, his eyes glazed over and he almost slammed face first into the ground. So he stopped, knees buckled and arm clutching at his side as he drew in rapid breaths, sweat dripping from his messy hair. Oh god, he was [i]so[/i] out of practice. A routine was a comfortable thing. It helped him forget about the events of last night, about all those revelations, about what he was going to do once more. The words exchanged last night was tinged with regrets and personal disappointment. He should have remained calm. Let it go. Not made things more awkward. Not say things that can't be taken back. God, he just knew her for a day or two! The brunette picked up speed, running shoes pounding on the track. Should he try an overclock? Increase the functionality of his shoes? Experiment a bit? No, that'd require too much thinking, and right now, he didn't want to think. All he wanted to do was move. Get a rhythm going, get his heart pumping, stop fucking thinking. As he ran by though, yet another familiar face showed up on the track. The same one that headbutted Shane's crystal wall. That crazy motherfucker. After yesterday, did he have enough of crazy motherfuckers? Yes, but that wasn't going to stop him from saying 'hi' to another. [color=B0C4DE]"Hey there! You alright?"[/color] The new voice caught Sander off guard. He was too focused on adjusting his breathing, he failed to notice the approaching footsteps. Glancing up, he was greeted by a strange face. The guy did look familiar, but he couldn’t quite place his fingers on it. So he let it slip. “[color=cyan]I’m fine. Just…tripped on something.[/color]”- He forced a smile through the discomfort, all while trying to calm his breathing –“[color=cyan]Guess I am getting rusty.[/color]” [color=B0C4DE]"Tripped on..."[/color] Brent's gaze turned to the foot-sized depressions within the track. Ah, right, that superhuman girl HAD done her superhuman running here, hadn't she. [color=B0C4DE]"...yeah, I see it now. Gotta watch out for these 'potholes', eh?"[/color] [color=B0C4DE]"Didn't think someone who could headbutt a wall and crack it would have trouble with a lap though."[/color] A frown formed at the mention of the previous battle, but Sander quickly willed it away. “[color=cyan]So you were there?[/color]”- He slowly straightened, wiping the dirt on his shorts- “[color=cyan]Strange, I didn’t notice.[/color]” “[color=cyan]And I am not always like that. Only in short bursts.[/color]”- He kept an easy smile on his face, despite the fact that they were edging into a topic he didn’t care to discuss. There was no point in getting all defensive; in his experience, it would only prompt them to ask more questions. [color=B0C4DE]"Yeah, I came on the giant crystal bird with Shane and Sophia. Too late to be of any help, sadly."[/color] Brent shrugged, before smiling back. [color=B0C4DE]"Well, if you want to work on your base cardio and get the rust off, I actually happen to have a plan just for that! Care to hear it? Or are you more the solo warrior type?"[/color] His smile still felt a little frayed on his face. He should fix that. Sander was slightly taken aback by the newcomer’s friendliness. He thought the guy approached him to investigate the sight of distress, then would soon go back to doing his own thing. Instead, the stranger offered him a training plan. Sander wanted to just brush the guy off, but he couldn’t think of any way to do so politely. “[color=cyan]Um…Sure.[/color]”- In the end, he decided to just roll with it.-“[color=cyan]Though I’m not sure I can keep up. Hasn’t been feeling well.[/color]” [color=B0C4DE]"Oh, you're sick?"[/color] Brent cocked his head to the side. [color=B0C4DE]"Well, you're probably better off just talking it easy and going for a brisk walk. Drink lotsa water, go to sleep early, that sorta stuff. Rest days are important too, after all."[/color] His own eyes were bagged. His own skin was pale. But he still managed a laugh. A little more natural now. “[color=cyan]Uh, no. I’m not sick.[/color]”-Sander quickly denied the stranger’s observation, because he wasn’t sick. He was fine. He would be. –“[color=cyan]Just…indisposed.[/color]” However, on closer inspection, the brown-haired seemed almost as tired as he was. Or was it an erroneous observation on his part? Maybe everyone was like that here? This school was hardly a relaxing environment, after all. “[color=cyan]Yeah. Rest days.[/color]”- He mumbled absentmindedly, turning his head sideway as his nostrils flared. Sweet. Fizzy, but alcoholic. [i]Apple cider[/i], his mind recognized before he could catch himself. “[color=cyan]I think I can use a rest. Thanks for the advice.[/color]”- He said, a tad too stiffly for his taste, but it was too late to take the words back. He just wanted to get back to his room. This whole run was a bad idea. He wasted precious strength, in this moments of weakness, the craving reared its ugly head. He blocked it out to the best of his ability, but he was afraid. It was better to be safe than sorry. [color=B0C4DE]"No problem dude. What room are you in? Planning on getting breakfast a bit later myself, so I can go pick up something for you if you want?"[/color] “[color=cyan]Thank you…[/color]”- Sander smiled faintly as he backed away. –“[color=cyan]but I don’t think that will be necessary. I can get my own food.[/color]” “[color=cyan]So, see you around?[/color]” [color=B0C4DE]"Yeah,"[/color] Brent saluted, [color=B0C4DE]"Take care....uh....dude!"[/color] Shit, emo sick dude didn't even tell him his name, huh.