City of Angels

City of Angels Open

The second battle of a major war between God and Satan are about to break out, and 4 special children are the key to His victory.

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Owner: hanaxrenjix2
Game Masters: hanaxrenjix2
Tags: ace, aces, angel, angels, bad, battle, card, cards, child, children, deck, demon, demons, devil, evil, god, good, good v evil, good v. evil, good versus evil, good vs evil, good vs. evil, heaven and hell, kid, kids, lucifer, power, powers, satan, special, tattoo, tattoos, war, wing, wings (Add Tags »)

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Setting: Earth2010-10-16 21:57:14, as written by Machina Ex Deus
Jack was stopped on his way to the guys' locker room by Bailey herself, apparently still feeling pretty bad about what had been said. He figured her for one of those people who cared too much; people like that tended to get hurt pretty easy, and maybe that was why he bothered to stop at all.

She met his eyes only briefly, and he was struck by how much shorter than him she was. Well, almost everyone was shorter than him, except Caleb Spencer, who actually had an extra inch. But then, he didn't usually stand close enough to people to talk to them, and his height was mostly in his legs, making it a bit less obvious when sitting.

"Oh. Uh, sure, whatever. I mean, you're welcome. Just.. remember to wear your contacts tomorrow. Don't want to give him ammunition and stuff." Jack flinched inwardly. He was really, really bad at talking to people. Math, biology, history.. that kind of thing, he understood. People, especially friendly people he couldn't be a jerk to, were an entirely different story. There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Jack made a vague gesture at the locker rooms. "I've got practice, so..." he nodded to her, heading to the locker room without another word.

A quick change and a few minutes later, the track team was out to practice. As usual, the cheerleaders were in the middle of the field the track circled. Not that it bothered him any. The two groups never really got in each others' way, so Jack never paid it much mind.

Coach was in the middle of the traditional "Let's do great this season" speech she gave at the beginning of every practice before handing out the assignments for the next meet. Jack himself was pretty all-around; he generally anchored a relay, ran a sprint and the mile, and/or pole vaulted. This year, he'd be running the 500, the mile, and high jumping, which was new.

"All right, guys, let's start off with a three-mile run." Coach Lamont, a woman in her mid-thirties with a blond bun and a reputation for being strict but effective both on the track and the classroom (she was the school's only French teacher), clapped her hands to break the meeting, and the boys were off, Jack himself in the middle third of the pack, but already running stronger than most of the others. He'd hang out on the front edge of this group for a while, but what they guys at the front never seemed to get was that this was all about endurance. Later, when they were all tired and panting, he and a few others would pass them all and finish first.