Post by John Taylor on May 8, 2013 16:32:38 GMT -5
“This is bad! This is very not good!”
Running frantically to the front gate, John had a look of distinct urgency embedded upon his face, and the way in which he ran matched this perfectly. In fact, it was quite comical to watch how he was dashing to get to the school on time, to the common observer. One could even say that it was quite Ironic, the fact that he was late in arriving. He was a descendant of a race whose powers allowed them to manipulate time, so one would assume he possessed at least some rudimentary time-keeping ability. However, the current situation proved this to not be the case.
Luckily, many years of running about and general activity had made it so that John’s stamina was fairly admirable. Not Olympian, but for a schoolboy, he would be able to run a marathon surprisingly efficiently. Nevertheless, when he did finally reach the gates, there was no denying the fact that he was in dire need of catching his breath. Hopefully, the sweat from his unplanned – and rather madcap – run did not make his uniform smell too bad. It was at times like this that he wished he had been born with a power he could actually use, as opposed to something that would likely never manifest itself within him.
In the end, he found himself leaning against the back of the gate, having managed to sprint in. He had received some disapproving looks, and someone had even gone so far as to shake their head, but that hardly mattered to the boy. He was one great walloping walking quirk – odd stares and whispers were bound to hit his ears sooner or later, so why would he particularly care> Despite everything, however, he still managed to fix himself up, and straighten his tie. His shirt also appeared to be untucked, so this was remedied as well. He was already late – he couldn’t risk making an even worse impression.
“I’m fine!” he managed to blurt out, through ragged wheezing and panting, “I’m totally fine!”
Not that he thought anyone cared. It was just a precaution, in case anybody asked if he was all right. He never did like that question, when the answer was fairly obvious. Like when a someone had received a punch to the face, and wound up bleeding profusely. Bleeding is something the body generally shouldn’t do, from the face, so they were blatantly not all right. John was fine, though – winded and soaked more than a hydrophilic fish, but otherwise, he would say he was perfectly fine.
After a few moments, the boy managed to compose himself. That was an event he had not been willing to go through, nor would he ever feel like doing so again. He had even gotten up early to avoid it, but had neglected to properly register the time displayed on his clock when he had been preparing for the day. By the time he did see, however, it was fairly obvious – to him – that he had not roused himself early enough. In this light he had virtually gone Super Saiyan, and had ran off like a man possessed. A pity – his clock was actually faulty. It was at least half an hour until his first day at the school started.
Running frantically to the front gate, John had a look of distinct urgency embedded upon his face, and the way in which he ran matched this perfectly. In fact, it was quite comical to watch how he was dashing to get to the school on time, to the common observer. One could even say that it was quite Ironic, the fact that he was late in arriving. He was a descendant of a race whose powers allowed them to manipulate time, so one would assume he possessed at least some rudimentary time-keeping ability. However, the current situation proved this to not be the case.
Luckily, many years of running about and general activity had made it so that John’s stamina was fairly admirable. Not Olympian, but for a schoolboy, he would be able to run a marathon surprisingly efficiently. Nevertheless, when he did finally reach the gates, there was no denying the fact that he was in dire need of catching his breath. Hopefully, the sweat from his unplanned – and rather madcap – run did not make his uniform smell too bad. It was at times like this that he wished he had been born with a power he could actually use, as opposed to something that would likely never manifest itself within him.
In the end, he found himself leaning against the back of the gate, having managed to sprint in. He had received some disapproving looks, and someone had even gone so far as to shake their head, but that hardly mattered to the boy. He was one great walloping walking quirk – odd stares and whispers were bound to hit his ears sooner or later, so why would he particularly care> Despite everything, however, he still managed to fix himself up, and straighten his tie. His shirt also appeared to be untucked, so this was remedied as well. He was already late – he couldn’t risk making an even worse impression.
“I’m fine!” he managed to blurt out, through ragged wheezing and panting, “I’m totally fine!”
Not that he thought anyone cared. It was just a precaution, in case anybody asked if he was all right. He never did like that question, when the answer was fairly obvious. Like when a someone had received a punch to the face, and wound up bleeding profusely. Bleeding is something the body generally shouldn’t do, from the face, so they were blatantly not all right. John was fine, though – winded and soaked more than a hydrophilic fish, but otherwise, he would say he was perfectly fine.
After a few moments, the boy managed to compose himself. That was an event he had not been willing to go through, nor would he ever feel like doing so again. He had even gotten up early to avoid it, but had neglected to properly register the time displayed on his clock when he had been preparing for the day. By the time he did see, however, it was fairly obvious – to him – that he had not roused himself early enough. In this light he had virtually gone Super Saiyan, and had ran off like a man possessed. A pity – his clock was actually faulty. It was at least half an hour until his first day at the school started.
