Snippet #1252510

Jeph grimaced, pulling his feet free from the thin sheet of ice that covered them as ice continued to rain down from the sprinkler. His expression changed, becoming more akin to something one wore in a fight, which he was unused to. Pointing again at the offending sprinkler head, he shut it off, glaring at Avaron the entire time. "I'm not made to fight, no. I make others fight for me." He snapped back, placing his feet solidly on the thin, glistening sheet of frozen water. The ice surprisingly held his weight, and an idea popped into his mind. 'This is a horrible, horrible idea, Jeph. This is on par with stopping in on her and starting this whole thing in the first place. Don't even try it, man. It's not worth it.' The voice of reason begged, trying to keep him from going through with his plan. The plan itself was a simple one; even though he did not particularly care for the cold, he had taken ice hockey lessons at the behest of his parents some years ago. As unlikely as it was, he enjoyed the way the ice allowed him to manipulate physics to his advantage, and trick his way into getting a goal. Unsurprisingly, however, he quickly stopped playing once he got the tiniest bit of an injury.

Nodding slightly, he got into his stance, noting that in lieu of protective padding and ice skates, he had jeans and running shoes. Shoving himself forward with one foot, he began sliding towards Avaron, calculating the necessary forces and angles for his plan to work. Dropping into a slide, he snatched at her ankle with one hand, hoping his momentum was enough to knock her down, knowing that in all actuality it probably wasn't. Though it wasn't his best idea, nor was it probably his most well-thought-out one, it was more of a plan than he had eariler. In his opinon, a poorly executed and badly thought-out plan was better than one that took months of planning to save ten seconds of work, or no plan at all. He got through life semi-successfully with this policy, but he never had to use it in a combat-tye situation. Instead, he thought on his feet, trying, mostly with positive results, to talk his way out of fights, or convince others to fight for him.