Sam LaCroix (
necroslacker) wrote in
fandomtownies2011-09-07 11:40 am
Entry tags:
the boardwalk ; wednesday afternoon
Sam's ghosts were leaving him alone (literally) which meant he had a semi clear head and was in a semi decent mood when he and his skateboard hit the boardwalk. He hadn't done this in too long (the lack of road rash on his elbows could attest to that) and it felt good to have the wind in his hair and the sun on his face.
For some reason, he felt like he had to be active today. After his duplicates had been lazier than even he'd been at his the height of slackerdom, Sam felt like getting out and doing something would save him from that fate.
Hopefully it would save him from that fate, that is. After all, the M&M's that the teachers had given him had been really good and naps were really fun. But, he didn't want to think of himself getting like that. He wove his way down the boardwalk, getting lost in his own head and his own thoughts of things past and things future.
But, he wasn't too unfocused to trip over cracks or pebbles or run into rails or even off the boardwalk completely and into the sand. Anyone wanting a laugh wasn't going to find it in Sam today.
Just don't toss anything in front of his wheels. Then, he'd probably faceplant and that would hurt. And it'd be mean. Don't be mean.
[Open place in town means open post, of course.]
For some reason, he felt like he had to be active today. After his duplicates had been lazier than even he'd been at his the height of slackerdom, Sam felt like getting out and doing something would save him from that fate.
Hopefully it would save him from that fate, that is. After all, the M&M's that the teachers had given him had been really good and naps were really fun. But, he didn't want to think of himself getting like that. He wove his way down the boardwalk, getting lost in his own head and his own thoughts of things past and things future.
But, he wasn't too unfocused to trip over cracks or pebbles or run into rails or even off the boardwalk completely and into the sand. Anyone wanting a laugh wasn't going to find it in Sam today.
Just don't toss anything in front of his wheels. Then, he'd probably faceplant and that would hurt. And it'd be mean. Don't be mean.
[Open place in town means open post, of course.]

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She did slow up as she approached him though. "The extra limb is back," she joked, "and you're still blood free. It's a miracle."
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She'd made that decision for him which was always easier for a slacker. "Are you trying to jinx me? I don't fall that often. You've just happened to see me after I wiped out."
He rubbed his elbows sympathetically. They didn't need to be shredded up like his poor back.
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"I'd be worse," she admitted, though. Skateboarding was not in her skillset.
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"But hey, I'm in a class about not being evil. Maybe something will stick?"
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That was about as existential as Sam would get and even then, it wasn't very existential at all.
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"And here you were telling me karma was going to bite me on the ass for teasing you." He was just as bad. "What's with the double standards, Seattle?"
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She grinned. "Do I have to modify that one for your delicate ears?" She couldn't help herself.
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Yes, he was always going to be a smartass. It would never go away.
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"You planning to take that on single-handedly?" she wondered. "Insuring the continuing corruption of the world is a big task."
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Two birds, one stone, and other needlessly violent imagery.
But it didn't really suit her. The loose jogging pants were comfortable, as was the t-shirt, and she didn't mind the way her ponytail got messy while she ran, but it was boring. It wasn't like she really needed the exercise, even.
So, it wasn't too much of a loss that she stopped when she spotted Sam approaching a little further away on his board, even going so far as to give him a tiny little wave. ...Well, a slight raise of her hand, anyway.
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When he saw Natalie wave (or raise her hand) and after he'd checked to make sure she was waving at him and not someone else, he rolled himself over in her direction, even going so far as to circle her once with his board before he stopped himself.
"Afternoon," he said, swiping at his brow with his upper arm. "Out for a walk along the beach? A lot of personal ads start out like that, you know."
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She did not look sweaty enough for that.
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And sometimes personal ads were hilarious even if laughing at them felt mean. Whatever, Sam wasn't a saint. He knew that.
"You don't look like you've been running that hard," he said, taking a closer look at her face. "No red cheeks, no sweat, no panting. I probably look worse than you and I haven't been doing that much today."
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Long enough for some strands of hair to have escaped her ponytail, but then that happened a lot anyway.
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"I never said you weren't in okay shape," he pointed out, rolling his skateboard back and forth underneath his foot. "I can tell that by looking at you. And by the fact that Doritos aren't bursting out of your pockets or anything."
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"They probably wouldn't market seizure inducing food anyway. I'm sure the FDA would throw a fit," he continued. "I'm more of a salt and vinegar guy myself. Great taste, bad breath."
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She glanced down at his feet, then back up. "So, skateboarding, hm?"
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All that artwork on the bottom was a little...telling but she didn't know that. He'd bought it because he thought it was ironic or something.
"Cardio's a lot more fun on one of these," Sam added after a moment. "And it doubles as a seat and a weapon, if someone tries to mug me."
Or tried to kidnap him. Again.
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