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 Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 4:58 pm
Jude hadn't gone to class. Surprise, surprise. You might as well be saying your calico cat was a girl, your honors student was smart and your SUV was a gas guzzler. Some things just were what they were. Jude? He was a slacker. Grade A lackadaisical.
Yeah, that's right, lackadaisical. He knew words like that without going to class. Up yours, Barren Pines, you and your disciplinarian authority figures.
Jude was here for the track, not the books. Given the choice--and he certainly looked like he felt he had been lazing around atop one of the benches on the side of the field--he'd pick wasting his time here over staring at fine print text any day of the week. They could make him stay (not that they were--or were they?), but they couldn't stop him from running alongside the bandwagon instead of jumping on board it.
He had a nagging feeling it wasn't going to take the passengers anywhere he wanted to be.
On the other side of him, shielded by the end of his jacket hanging off his perch, sat the once vibrant red bag worn by time and the elements. It's contents included all his boxing gear and a few miscellaneous items. Couldn't be bothered to go to class, but never missed a chance in the ring with Marcel.
With one hand behind his head, the other on his stomach, and one foot swinging sharply from side to side, Jude stared up at the sky and wondered what was beyond it.
Why was he still here?
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 10:45 pm
"Heeeey Juuuuude~" Yes, that song again. If you didn't want shitty jokes all the time, well, change your name! Andrew Collins had noted that a certain punk had been skipping his class as of late, and while he tolerated many things, avoiding torture was not one of them.
It was easy enough to spot the kid all sprawled out on the bench, and Drew took the initiative to loom over him with a wide and horrible grin on his face. He was dressed in his track suit, a towel slung over his shoulders and a baseball cap mostly covering his ridiculous amount of hair. "You sleep well?" He asked with mocking sympathy, rolling his shoulders. "Hope so!"
With another little grin, one sneaker was lifted up and slammed on the bench inches from... well, the kid's crotch. "You've got three seconds to start running miles before I ram you so hard in the balls that you forget how to breathe for a month. Too busy puking." It was really eerie how he could keep his tone so cheerful, but the count down was starting.
"One... Three--"
And the almighty sneaker lifted itself high into the air again.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 11:28 pm
God damn it.
Jude's hatred for that song could not be described in words alone. He was immune to the harmless comments about it, but when it was used as ammo intentionally, it was just so annoying. (So, so, sosososo annoying.) While he hadn't changed his name, he did introduce himself as Lawson. Not his fault no one went along with it when it was such a cooler name. Especially if you said it as two different words and used it in a sentence. ("I'm the law, son!" Yeah. That was awesome.)
Things like this would never keep this eternal optimism in a bad mood longer than a second. Stones could break his bones, but words would never hurt him. --Forget the sticks part at the beginning. Who the Hell ever heard of breaking a bone with a stick?
"My dearest teacher Anny," Jude greeted in a taunting replica of cheerfulness. Truth be told, this was one of the teachers he disliked the least. Let's just say, he liked him barely enough to be paired with him in horrendously out of character boy love fanfiction about their lives. Not helping his cause in the slightest, he sung out merrily to this intrusion of his privacy, "I slept wonderfully, dreaming of yoooouuuu. ~ Are you sure I'm awa--"
HOLY s**t.
The already pale lad was no more so, backing up on the bench and just staring at him at first. He might have running around stealing other peoples jewels as a senshi, but he wasn't about to hesitate guarding his own. "What the f--"
What?!
"You can't be serious!"
He was serious.
Completely thrown off his smooth criminal streak, Jude sprang like a damn rabbit off the bench and ran a few feet away. To his credit, he was really fast. What more would you expect for someone in this school for that alone?
At least, he thought he was.
"You can't just go around nailing your students in the junk!"
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Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2009 11:23 pm
Anny. Seriously, it never got old how many times he heard it; way more original than any of Hermy's attempts to come up with anything properly insulting. A broad grin split his face as the kid seemed to realize he wasn't just dicking around, advancing forward a few steps with more aggression than was warranted.
"HEEEEY JUUUUUDE~" The man was bellowing at the top of his lungs now, regardless to whatever protests were being spewed at him. Jude better believe the gym teacher was now sprinting full tilt after him, towel clenched tightly in one hand. It was already snaking through the air with a hiss, ready to snap against whatever part of the kid's body he could reach.
Oh, he was dead serious. His eyes were narrowed to thin slits as he watched Jude move, able to appreciate his athletic abilities; that was what really would count, these days, instead of too much mental bullshit.
Of course, that was easy enough to warp into a challenge.
So, who was faster, then? This punk, or him? Legs lengthening instinctively, Drew sprinted after the boy with a horrible grin still plastered to his face. He didn't intend to lose, not by any means.
Heeeey Juuuuude~
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Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2009 11:45 pm
So this is what they told you to stay in school for: Getting hounded by psychopaths who chased you down the track with full intention of molesting you with a towel that had been God knows where doing God knows what. Jude was fast enough to think and run simultaneously without succumbing to a distracted decrease in speed and thus submitting himself to the wrath of Anny. Talking? Yeah, that too.
He called over his shoulder in a voice that, if one didn't know better, suggested he was enjoying the chase. Had it not been for the direct threat issued to his man berries, he might of. Or had he forgotten that already? "I bet you molest all the girls with your towel, Annie Oakley," he cooed at his pursuer. Just for kicks, he added more, "Anne Frank. Little Orphan Annie." The names just kept pouring out, every name consisting of every "Anne", "Annie" or "Anny" he knew. You had to give the guy props for remembering so many; including nurse Annie Ghazikhanian from the X-Men comics.
"You didn't even give me a number!"
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 12:27 am
If he hadn't been so intent on catching the little s**t, he might have been rather intrigued at all these 'Annie, Anne, and Annny' references being spewed out of nowhere. To some degree, that was responsible for the grin on his face. The fact that he was hot on Jude's heels was another large factor for that, towel smacking loudly only inches from the other's calves.
"My number?" He cracks loudly, choosing to deliberately misinterpret the shouted question even as the towel snapped loudly again. "You're still in highschool, kiddo, and failing at it at that!" He was laughing now, inspired to pour on more speed until he was practically gaining on Jude.
His fingers were starting to twitch again, half-tempted to reach out and seize the boy by his hair and just yank until bits of his scalp were torn off along with the roots.
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 12:46 am
"The number of laps!" Jude corrected him. The wit of the intentional wordplay was lost on a teenager who took everything at face value. It wasn't that he couldn't think into it more, it was just that he wouldn't; didn't come naturally to him to do so. Then again, neither did being a smartass, and he managed to live up to the title every time dearest Anny was around. "But, for the record, I'm legal tender as of the 24th!"
Far as he knew, there wasn't a damn thing he could use to counter the accusation (read: truth) about him failing not just gym, but school in general. Jude didn't go to any class enough to know if he was failing or passing that one in specific, which... Yeah. That spoke for itself, didn't it?
He was not the perfect student he thought everyone else around here was. Didn't play the harp like an angel, didn't ace every test (not that he took any), and he made tons of mistakes as a person. One being the unwise decision to try and look behind him while running.
For, you see, Jude had chosen that moment to remind himself to pick up his boxing gear after all this was over. Then, like a flickering light bulb hit just the right way, he remembered: he had just come from boxing, and he was still wearing a cup.
Maybe he stopped too fast, maybe his foot turned the wrong way somehow. Whatever the case, the end result was Jude falling sidewards on the ground and his "teacher" (was this guy really qualified to teach?) flopping on top of him.
Awwwwwkward.
There was no salvaging his dignity in this situation, so the only defense mechanism Jude could think to do was make the other guy feel more uncomfortable than he did.
"Is that another wet towel in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 5:57 pm
Whatever Drew had been expecting, Jude sprawling all over the track like a sack of potatoes had not been it. He stumbled, sharply trying to bring himself to a halt so he didn't end up slamming a foot into the kid's chest and breaking ribs. Even worse, he could accidentally trip over the boy's prone body and skin his knee! Still, the man fell, hard and graceless until he realized his fall had been somewhat (mostly) cushioned by the other's body.
Awkward indeed. Was it time to get gruff? Growly? Flip his s**t?
"That is Mr. Anny to you. One of those extra fluffy ones, actually...you wanna feel?" He fluttered his eyes ridiculously at the other for a moment before he hauled himself up--and Jude, too, now that he'd gotten the front of his shirt properly clenched in a fist. "We're gonna try this again. You're gonna run until you're either dead, or I say stop. The former is more likely than the latter."
Having the gall to whistle to himself as he let Jude go, it really seemed like the teacher was unphased. He was watching the other carefully now though, snapping the towel between his hands with a little grin still fixed on his face.
"You haven't been neglecting to practice, have you? If I almost caught you that quickly, then heeeeey Juuuuuude~ You've got some splainin' to do!"
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 6:14 pm
It was a gift Jude Lawson was not a young man to plan schemes regularly. Better for his health that way, since nine out of ten times they would have backfired on him. This was not that single time it didn't, and his face blazed, obvious not because of the degree of his embarassment, but because his skin was on the paler side. Any hint of a blush would have been a glaring one. As a senshi, he had only gone out at night or in the mornings; the day was used for sleeping. Of course, he didn't remember this, and it didn't make sense to him why he had stayed so light when he'd been at Barren a fair amount of time, avoiding class in favor of lazing in the sun.
The brief glimpse of modesty was gone just like that, substited with narrowed eyes that stared at Drew's much too close ones. Well, he'd never liked this shirt anyway. --Ow!
Jude pushed himself up into a sitting position and rubbed the back of his head, which had smashed against the ground after his shirt was released. "I go to practice," he answered. A grade slacker, he was, but one Hell of a sorry liar. Good thing he was being honest. "What do you mean that quickly? That was as long as most of the races, and I just got back from boxing. That's how I run tired."
Typical guy defending his typical sense of honor.
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 6:48 pm
"I mean like, my grandma could run faster than that." Drew waved an idle hand at him before miming someone hobbling down the track, wheezing something about his poor, poor hip, how his body just wasn't what it used to be. An idle pause was offered at the mention of boxing, but he was already shaking his head as though he wasn't impressed with the excuse. "Well if you just got back from boxing, you should be all warmed up then." Mr. Anny countered, chuckling in the back of his throat.
"Long as the races or not, this is gym class. You don't to fail gym of all things. You aren't the fat kid, there's no excuse." He had no qualms with bashing that honor right back into whatever orifice it'd crawled out of.
No, he didn't mind gym kids as much. Made things a bit more challenging, after all, and he did love a challenge. But only if he got to beat someone's face in by the end of it.
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 7:04 pm
That typical stuff? Forget about it.
Jude suddenly realized defending his honor and all that just wasn't worth it. This teacher, unsuited for the rank or not, was still a teacher; an authority figure. If he went around trying to impress those types, who would he be? ...Uh. Well, he'd be somebody not him. That's who.
"You really shouldn't insult your poor grandmother like that," he chided. The kicker was the easygoing, yet completely serious way he said it. Either he thought that was a lifelike impersonation, or was just feeling sympathetic for a woman who might not even have existed. "I don't care about failing gym. Or failing anything. Half this stuff no one will ever use. I mean, algebra? Really?"
True to his rebellious streak, Jude did something that proved his mind was not always as bright as his eyes: he folded his hands behind his head, crossed his legs and just lay there like he was on a picnic blanket in a meadow and not on school grounds. "Give me one reason that doesn't involve you hitting me with a towel or threatening my future children, and I'll run as long as you want."
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 7:42 pm
That was right, submit. Drew shifted with amusement at the kid's words, snorting under his breath. "She'll be dead soon anyway." Who knew if he was serious or not? Either way, he was moving on from the subject, tilting his head at the bold proclamation.
"So...? You're gonna live on the streets, hoping someone'll admire those scrawny legs of yours and pay you lots of money to run real fast? Life isn't that simple." He grinned, idly thumbing at his nose. "Good theory, though. Can tell you personally that it won't work."
Of course, it seemed that Jude had a death wish. "Let's see." He mused, tapping at one cheek as though really mulling it over. "We're in a wide, empty track with no one around. I could do this," A shoe pressed itself lightly to the boy's exposed throat. "And cause an accident, see. Chuck you in a lake and no one knows, besides the fish. Or, you run!" Cheerful enough, and to the point.
"No, really." Kidding, it seemed, by the way he stepped back with a chuckle. "You start running, or I get you a one-way ticket to the main lead in the play. You will be forced to perform." Oh, if his grin could get any wider...
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 7:59 pm
Jude scowled up at the sky. "Don't preach to me, Anny," he grumbled. That was his job. Duh. "And, yeah, maybe I do. That's exactly what this place is doing, isn't it? Letting me eat and live here and I do nothing but run for them?" Such a strange voice he had then. It wasn't lacking confidence, per say, but it wasn't full of it either. He did believe what he just said. Fully. But a part of him was screaming to antagonize the guy further, praying if he did so he'd be expelled, freed. If he had to leave, he could leave. The mere idea of it prompted a chain reaction consisting of a dreamy look and a whimsical sigh.
A sigh born only to die before it's time, ended by the light pressure of a shoe to his throat. Jude was not capable, nor inclined to false cheer, and he wasn't feeling so amused by this encounter anymore. He jumped up in a way only someone in shape could, shoving his face near Drew's before he had stepped back, close enough to feel each others breathe. They were, after all, more or less the exact same height. "Don't threaten me."
But he did threaten him. With... a play?
"Are you kidding?" One eyebrow up and the other slanting downward, Jude stared at him for a second then shook his head. "I've heard all about that play. There's no way you're going to get something like that done with all the actors in this school. That woman running it would have your head, I'd bet." Not that he knew her personally, but he had meant enough directors in his time to know they all operated to a certain standard. It wasn't a standard he could live up to. Being a bad liar and being a bad actor just went hand in hand. "Honestly, Anny, you'll have to do better."
And Jude advanced toward him, hand in a fist. Mirroring the falsehood of Drew's boot to his throat, he raised his hand quickly... only to outstretch his fingers a good foot or so away from the other man's face. He had this feeling, if given the chance, his teacher would break each and every one. Something was very wrong with this school. He was sure of it now.
"Five days," he said informatively. "That's the next time you'll see me in your class." The hand, having played it's part in the challenge, fell to his side. "If you don't like it, then expel me, and I guess I'll learn a life lesson about the real world best taught by a gym teacher."
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 9:32 pm
"And learn, and nurture your little mind into something so much greater..." There was a dark, grim sort of humor to his tone, and he all but bore his teeth in a grin as the other was suddenly in his face. "Or what? You gonna hit me, Jude-boy? M'gonna have to break your jaw in self-defense?" Drew practically purred, eyes glittering in a way that suggested he would relish the opportunity.
"Ohh, you underestimate me, hey Jude~" And he really was grinning now, folding his arms over his chest. It seemed like he was going to have to have a little chat with Nealite later. Surely she could find something utterly humiliating to cast him as--she'd bastardized the rest of the Negaverse with that play. And then those fingers made the mistake of shoving themselves in his face--Drew reacted without thinking.
Jude would find himself pinned awkwardly, his arm yanked behind his back at an angle that could easily pop it from the shoulder socket, Drew's grip iron-tight on his wrist. "Five days, we'll see how certain you are about everything." He breathed, resisting the urge to throw the boy down and kick his ribs until he felt them crunch and give way underneath his shoe.
"Fiiiiive daaaaays, heeeey Juuuuuuude..." The man whispered dramatically before he gave the boy a hard shove, not really caring if he went sprawling on his face. "Drink plenty of water, exercise those vocals... because if you don't show up to the play? You're off the track team." Grinning at him for a moment, the gym teacher slung the towel over one shoulder before he strutted off, whistling to himself quite cheerfully.
The kid set his teeth on edge, no doubt about that, but he was trying to be a good teacher, for now. He hadn't beaten the s**t out of him, right? Step in the right direction!
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Posted: Wed Nov 11, 2009 10:18 pm
Jude wasn't underestimating him, and he wasn't going to hit him. That's what he thought. The guy prided himself on honesty, so it was good he hadn't said it aloud. That would have made him a liar to himself and the world. Could he really be blamed, though? To be fair, he hadn't touched him first. He'd brushed off the earlier threats by then, he'd even considered apologizing for some of the other stuff in that briefest of times before Drew made his move.
By time his arm was behind his back, he was shaking. Not out of fear, but out of anger. What was wrong with this guy? What was wrong with this place?! --Then, God help him (no, really, he was praying at this point), it had to be the ear. He could have just broke his arm and it would have seemed better to him than the automatic shudder that damn tacky whisper of his caused. b*****d.
The tremor ceased just as Jude was shoved forward, and instead of falling flat on his face, he did what any male, teenage boxer would have done in this very unorthodox situation: span around and, with his reputable left hook, delivered a swift jab that nailed his superior smack in the jaw.
He had complained to Marcel once pink eyes like his could never seem scary, but while they may not have been petrifying, for that instance there was a very intense, animalistic intimidation about them. Not that it mattered to Drew, and not that it could have, since his head had snapped away and missed the sight entirely. By time the motion was over, the vicious glimmer was already fading, making way for a look of concern, but not necessarily regret.
Yes, he had just decked his teacher, and he already felt bad about it.
But he also felt tense that a retaliation was soon to come, so instead of apologizing just yet, he shifted into the readying stance he was all too familiar with and waited.
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