nottrivial (
nottrivial) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2012-11-17 08:16 am
Entry tags:
The Salle, Saturday Morning
Okay. Alec knew he'd been moving a little slowly yesterday what with the lack of caffeine and all, but somehow he hadn't expected it to last until today.
He'd been training for years, and he knew exactly how long his workout routine was supposed to take. The patterns he ran through with seraph blades were supposed to be quick, expedited by Shadowhunter speed and grace. Today he was just kind of... slow.
Actually, no, he wasn't kind of slow. Today Alec knew just how slow he was, proportionately speaking. Since normally his workout took two hours, and today he was only one-fifth done with his routine at forty minutes, he knew as soon as he glanced at his watch that he was going about two-thirds slower today and, barring variations in his slowed-down speed for the different parts of his routine, should finish around noon instead of the usual ten-thirty.
That was not something he was normally able to figure out.
He hurled a glittering seraph blade at a target, wincing as he discovered his aim was off too. Wonderful.
[[so, so open]]
He'd been training for years, and he knew exactly how long his workout routine was supposed to take. The patterns he ran through with seraph blades were supposed to be quick, expedited by Shadowhunter speed and grace. Today he was just kind of... slow.
Actually, no, he wasn't kind of slow. Today Alec knew just how slow he was, proportionately speaking. Since normally his workout took two hours, and today he was only one-fifth done with his routine at forty minutes, he knew as soon as he glanced at his watch that he was going about two-thirds slower today and, barring variations in his slowed-down speed for the different parts of his routine, should finish around noon instead of the usual ten-thirty.
That was not something he was normally able to figure out.
He hurled a glittering seraph blade at a target, wincing as he discovered his aim was off too. Wonderful.
[[so, so open]]

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He stepped further into the salle and squinted. "You have the worst aim I've ever seen. You practice for that?"
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Because he was juuuust egotistical enough to blame the island for this sudden lapse in skill instead of himself.
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Alec was mature.
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That possibly sounded even more snotty than the alternative.
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He felt absolutely zero guilt about explaining the term to Atton, unlike with Sparkle, when he'd pretty much blushed and apologized all over the place.
"It means you're a human without any powers."
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"Really," Atton drawled. "Well. I'm sorry for getting my Mundane ass all over your training. Clearly I wasn't born with such amazing gifts as you were."
He was looking at the unharmed target, oh yeah.
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So he could finish by twelve-fifteen, or something. Ugh.
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He was going to take that idle idea to use the shooting range this afternoon and run with it once he was done here, yes.
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Deactivated, the seraph blade just looked like a blunt-edged tube; when Alec activated it with a muttered "Cassiel," though, it lit up and extended, glowing hot, and he hurled it at the target.
It... actually managed to hit it that time, at least. Not dead-center, but still. That was something.
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Slow clapping, Alec. That was all you were getting. "Was that so hard?" Beat. "Well, I guess so."
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He took his blaster out of his pocket on his way to the door.