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milliways_bar2006-05-25 12:58 pm
milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com) wrote in milliways_bar2006-05-25 12:58 pm
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Wells and Ace got the track marked out yesterday around the edges of the football pitch. By the time they'd finished, natural light was no longer available for running, and while Wells can see in the dark he'd just as soon not attempt any land speed records for the first time that way. Thus, he's out here now, bouncing his weight experimentally from foot to foot as he stands at the arbitrarily chosen starting line.
This is, of course, insane. He's not dressed for running; he's dressed as he would be under ordinary circumstances, his clothes just barely falling to the civilian side of fatigues. He's got boots on, for Christ's sake. But then, he wasn't planning on running for the sake of sport; he's running to see if he can, and to see what he can, and how's that to count for anything at all if he doesn't do it just like it's part of everyday life?
So- at some point, somewhere, an inaudible shot is fired, and Wells springs forward from his spot at the starting line, running the four hundred meter loop for all he's worth.
This is, of course, insane. He's not dressed for running; he's dressed as he would be under ordinary circumstances, his clothes just barely falling to the civilian side of fatigues. He's got boots on, for Christ's sake. But then, he wasn't planning on running for the sake of sport; he's running to see if he can, and to see what he can, and how's that to count for anything at all if he doesn't do it just like it's part of everyday life?
So- at some point, somewhere, an inaudible shot is fired, and Wells springs forward from his spot at the starting line, running the four hundred meter loop for all he's worth.