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 Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 1:42 pm
It would seem fate decided the answer for him, as fate frequently did. He couldn't help but innocently think it must have been "pick on the new boy" day.
"Simon, there is no need to apologize, my friend. I just wish for you to enjoy the remaining moments of the show." Howl smiled as if nothing was wrong, but internally he was already dreading the next play the other team would execute.
That and the fact he was about to get his hands dirty.
Now that all the balls had been thrown onto his lonely side of the court, it meant he had to do something with them. Despite all the eyes being on him, and all the harassment he was receiving from the opposite team and from the peanut gallery in the bleachers, he seemed to work at his own pace. He casually moved to line up the balls all next to each other on his side so the other team still couldn't get them. It was only when the deathly growl of Killingworth managed to reach his ears that he acted.
"I do not aim to be a hero," he said quietly, as if to himself, "but I shall try to make do with what I have."
It was then that he set the tip of his left foot under the first ball, kicked it slightly up in front of him, then thrust his right arm to hit the ball. Technically, he wasn't throwing the ball. The actual throwing motion always seemed to catch Howl off guard. Instead, it was a modified attempt at such, using the basic thrusting motions from fencing to launch the ball at the other side. He quickly repeated this for the other balls, causing the other rubber orbs to fly towards the other side.
Perhaps I will just be disqualified instead. Howl smiled at the notion, hoping such a blessing would occur instead of being pummeled by red bouncy balls.
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 2:36 pm
"The hell's Wickham doing now?"
"Come on f**, throw a ball already!"
If Simon wasn't as much of a bleeding heart as he was, he would have found himself relieved that the other boys in the class had found a new target for their jeers and taunts, even if it was only for a little while. As he was, though, he only felt deep sympathy and just a twinge of guilt that he wasn't able to do anything to make them stop. Hopefully they'd let up after--
"Whoa, dude--"
The rabble fluttered quickly away into silence once Howl actually started pitching his balls across the gym. One, two, then a third player were knocked out of the game in succession before it got to the other team's heads that Howl was suddenly good at dodgeball and they should take him a bit more seriously. There had never been any clear-cut rules about how the ball was supposed to be thrown... sure, some people on the other side were starting the noise back up again with complaints, but no move was made to penalize him.
A fourth was sent to the bleachers, then one ball intercepted another, then a fifth. Now it was only two against one.
Unfortunately, the two were among the best players in one of Hillworth's sports teams, they were notoriously good at working in tandem, and now all the balls were on their side of the court.
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 3:15 pm
"Bollucks."
Even though Howl had done what he had set out to do, he had been hoping the whistle would be blown against himself. And all that were left were two players who seemed like they knew what they were doing. Glancing down to the palm of his right hand, poor Howl couldn't help but noticeably wince at all the filth that had collected where he had smacked the balls.
The feminine figure backed up, carefully eying the two boys, monitoring their general postures for any drastic changes. Each one had a ball in their hands, and a pile of balls in front of them. From where he was standing, he could tell the two were talking quietly about how to go about this. Alas, his hearing was not able to pick up on something from so far away.
The boy on the right was the first to shift posture. It was enough to let Howl know that he'd be the first to throw. The first ball shot off went down to his feet. It was a common tactic to try and get the opponent to jump up so that when they were in the air, they'd have less of a chance to dodge another pending ball. In response, Howl hopped towards the right, allowing the red ball to bounce ever so close to his feet, yet still bouncing past. However, things didn't let up at all. The other boy promptly aimed for Howl's mid-body towards the right side. Howl had to spin his body back slightly to let the ball whiz past. The barrage continued, with balls flying low, high, and anywhere in between.
It was obvious that the players on the opposite team had noticed Howl's tendency to react to the flying rubber individually instead of collectively. On their last throws, they threw two balls about 2 seconds apart. The first ball flew towards the middle, skewing slightly left. The other seemed to be more or less a cruel shot that was a headshot, aimed skewing towards the right. Even if such a shot hit, it wouldn't count.
Howl dodged the first ball, then noticed his mistake as he had two seconds to react to the ball now literally hurtling towards his nose. If he had been tactical, he would have allowed the headshot and one of his opponents would have been booted. However, vanity was Howl's most basic instinct. In an effort to preserve his face, his right hand came up to block the hit and was promptly smacked by the ball.
With the shriek of the whistle, the game was over. He had lost.
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 6:02 pm
Howl's defeat was met with a group groan from his team that was loud enough to almost drown out the whistle that marked the end of the game - and that was quite an accomplishment, given the identity of the person blowing it.
The winning team was free to go until their next classes started, and as for the losers? They earned the lucrative prize of 30 pushups apiece, which were done with the silence of the dead. If the dead were capable of huffing, panting, and quietly groaning from the strain, anyway. Simon kept faltering, somehow managing to lose his grip on the floor once in a while, and getting a face full of waxed floorboard each time.
By the time it was over, he was exhausted, had earned his first bruises of the term and felt like his stomach was trying to eat itself... but at least it was over. The best thing about this class was that it always ended. Sometimes it seemed to take ten lifetimes to do so, but it still ended eventually.
"Those were some pretty sweet moves back there, Wickham," one student said as he passed out the doors. "Still a f**, though..."
Simon trailed after the others, flexing his hands to try to get some feeling back into them. "I guess I'll see you next time, huh?" he asked once Howl was in earshot. "You'll get used to it, don't worry."
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 6:22 pm
After having dreaded all sorts of various outcomes to his defeat, Howl couldn't help but appreciate how mild the punishment had been in comparison. The only thing that maybe could have been a bit better was if the floor was clean. With all the students running across the gym, dirt was everywhere from all their shoes.
Deciding it would be in his best interest to finish quickly, Howl did his 30 push-ups at a relatively average pace. When he stood up, he inspected the palms of his hands.
"Tch... Shall need to wash up..." he mused as he received a half compliment on his way to the locker room. It was the beginning of the pathway towards respect, which as he knew from experience, took a while to earn.
Just before entering the locker room, he gave Simon a polite nod of approval and followed it with a simple "Indeed."
[FIN]
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