fandomhighdorms | The Gym, Late Sunday Afternoon

Entry tags:

The Gym, Late Sunday Afternoon

Andrew was restless and looking for something to do other than sit in his room and contemplate the whole not knowing who he really was thing. So he found himself in the gym with a basketball, standing on the foul line, and missing a steady stream of shots. He figured his skills on the court must have gone with the memories.

This was what guys did when they needed to think. Right?

[ooc: open to any and all!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Charlene had been wandering around, trying to find something familiar, and wondering about the weird things that had happened at the clinic yesterday. So far, nothing looked any more familiar than anything else. She stopped into the gym, and waved at the guy practicing there. "Hi. Do you know me?"

Andrew chased down another wild shot and turned towards the voice. "No, sorry. Should I? I probably should."

"You too, hunh?" So that made at least four people that she'd met who all had amnesia. She really did think this place was a mental hospital now. Maybe. "I should probably know you too, but I don't. I don't know anyone, or even myself. Just that my name is Charlene McGee." She sighed and slapped her notebook against her leg. "Do you know what's going on, or why we're here?"

"Neil, who's apparently my really cute boyfriend, told me that it's probably just Fandom weirdness. Something to do with magic. I speak a couple dozen languages. How about you?"

Andrew tried to dribble the ball without looking and it hit his foot and bounced away. He started to chase it, but thought better of it after a few hesitant steps. Instead he crossed his arms and just looked at the new girl.

"Magic?" Charlene gave him a dubious look. "I don't think I speak anything but English. But are you sure he wasn't messing with you?" She looked over at the ball, and frowned, thinking of what had happened in the Clinic. "Although, that might explain a few things. Um." She stared at the ball, thinking wish wish wish push at it, wondering if it would roll over to her.

"Magic," Andrew restated, nodding his head. "He wasn't messing with me!" Andrew sounded offended. "Neil would never do that. Besides, based on the small library of books on demons and summoning and dark arts I found in my room, I think it's safe to say that it's fairly common."

He noticed her staring intently at the ball. Maybe she wanted to play. "Do you play?"

"Dark arts?" Okay, that wasn't reassuring. The ball had slowly begun to roll toward her, and Charlene stared at it. "Um. I think I might be magic. If you're serious. And not wrong. And, um. Do you see... this...?" The ball had now hit her toes, and she looked up from it to Andrew to loudly whisper, "I think I did that!"

Andrew had indeed seen that happen. His eyes were wide. "Do it again," he said excitedly.

Wish wish wish wish push And the ball rooooolled over to Andrew, Charlene's eyes going huge. "Oh my god, I did push that doctor yesterday. It wasn't a giant magnet in the wall!"

"That's great!" Andrew was excited too, even though he had no idea what she was talking about. "Do you think I'm of the magical kind too? How did you do that?"

"I wished at it! Hard. Wish wish wish wish push," she said to the ball, and glared at it, then squeaked as it came zooming at her, hard enough that she ducked so it went zooming over her head. "Now you try it!"

Andrew's face scrunched up in concentration. He pushed at the ball hard with his mind. "Come on," he said under his breath. "Move, move, move."

Nothing happened other than his face getting really red. A hand flew up to his temple. "I think I broke my brain," he stated.

"Ack," Charlene said in sympathy, then glared at the ball. "Maybe I'm under a spell? Or maybe I did one, that lets me do this?"

"Or maybe you're all one with the magics and I'm not. Neil would have probably said something about it. Unless I'm like a bad or evil wizard or something. Then maybe he doesn't know." Andrew glared at the ball again and tried to move it with the powers of this mind -- the added dramatic hand motions didn't help either. It didn't budge.

Maybe if he commanded the ball to move. He pointed at the ball and barked, "Move!"

Nothing happened. He tried again and again, running through twenty seven other dialects before giving up with a shrug.

"'One with the magics.' Wow. That's ... I don't feel one with anything," Charlene admitted. "Since I don't even remember myself. And you couldn't be evil! Could you?" She added hesitantly, "Dark arts?"

"You should see some of my notebooks," Andrew said. "It's not a stretch. I'm researching some pretty creepy things." He decided he shouldn't go into details.

"I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this," he said. "What if it turns out we're like mortal enemies? You on the side of good and light and me coming from the side of dark and evil."

He was suddenly very worried that she could move the basketball and he couldn't.

Charlene paused, then thought, wish wish push push now! at the ball, causing it to zoooom back to her. She caught it, facing off with the guy, possibly evil, opposite her. "So, uh. Evil Guy. Are you going to start something?" She stopped trying to be threatening, and added, "Hey, you could reform now, you know. Since you don't remember your evil history and you have a cute boyfriend?"

Andrew thought about. Reformation sounded lame. He looked at himself. "Nah. I'm pretty scrawny. Chances are, the whole cute boyfriend thing is because I am one with the evil. People dig that whole bad boy thing, you know?"

He tried to adopt a very bad-boyish pose -- jutting a hip out and latching on to one elbow with his other hand. It was a total cover art pose for some preteen pop starlet CD.

"It's probably, um, best you don't try anything, being that I have no idea just how bad I am."

Charlene wasn't going to take any chances, even if this guy's pose was reminding her of the song Backdoor Lover for some reason.

ZOOOOOM! with the basketball, straight at his chest!

Andrew saw the sudden determination in his opponent's eyes and calmed himself, gathering the ~~totally imaginary~~ dark forces about him for protection.

As the ball zoomed towards him, he held out his right hand and simply said, "Halt!" In his mind, the ball was going to come to a screeching stop inches away from his outstretched hand. It was going to be so cool. In reality it crashed into his hand, bending his wrist backwards with a painful pop, and slammed into his chest. He toppled over backwards.

"Ow," he said, not moving. He was pretty well under the impression that everything in his body was currently broken.

"Are you okay?" Charlene rushed forward, stopping next to him and picking up the basketball in case this was a trick. It really didn't look like one though, because ow. "I'm so so sorry. Except, you know, you asked for it, being evil. And that looks like it hurts. Maybe I can heal it?" She glared at the wrist, thinking heal heal heal heal... and nothing happened. "Or not?"

Andrew attempted to move his wrist.

"..." That would be the silent scream.

After a moment of writhing about the floor in pain, he croaked, "I think I'm broken. For real. My evil mojo isn't working like it should. I should have totally been able to stop that ball. That's like kid's stuff."

Now Charlene really felt badly for him. "I'm sorry? Come on, we should get you to the Clinic. Even if they're in on it." She dropped the ball, and reached for his uninjured arm. "I promise, truce until you're not broken any more. Then we can go back to, um, fighting each other. You can trust me, I promise."

Andrew was in too much pain to say no. Besides, she was of the good. That means she has to honor her word and all that. He didn't.

"Sure. Truce. Clinic." He totally let her pull him up. "Um, do you know where the clinic is?"

"I went there yesterday, looking for a cure for my memory loss." She winced, pulling his arm over her shoulders. "And I think I have to apologize to that doctor. Well. But yeah, lean on me. We'll fix this much, at least."

Andrew allowed her to lead him to the clinic. (http://community.livejournal.com/fandom_clinic/391476.html?view=9094196#t9094196)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Gym, Late Sunday Afternoon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject