Active Angel: The Physical Princess

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Six Million Dollar Man, Jul 16, 2012.

  1. Nash Macleod was walking through the doors into the rec-center. Had a couple different areas for multiple sports, and the usual gym training equipment. Good place to get started, he figured. After all, he was here for one important goal, and that was to get his ass healthy. Nash as it was possessed the average build for a sixteen year old standing at 5,11. He had caucasian skin, short dark brown hair, and blue eyes, often wearing a simple red t-shirt and some khaki colored pants, and usually carrying a green jacket on colder days. On his feet were a pair of simple dark blue sneakers, perfect for running and jumping around. They weren't the 'hundreds of dollars' type pairs he saw in the area, especially on the basketball court. The current shoe fad was so bizarre.

    He walked over to a couple of dumbells that weighed around 11 pounds. He figured he'd start there. He picked up a weight for each hand, and checked how he handled them. He didn't want to start all too easily. Then again, he could just sign up for a trainer...


    200 lifts later, and two sore arms, Nash hastily scribbled his name, and headed over to an exercise bike. This was something he could do.

    Just as he got on though, he couldn't help but notice a girl that could have easily been passed off as an amazon warrior, off doing her own thing, as people slowly crowded around, in awe of her mighty feats. Nash was from out of town, just moved in, so he had no idea just who was getting everyone's attention.
  2. This was definitely the very last place she wanted to be seen in, and yet, there she was, standing in the atmosphere of her own body heat. For the second time that day, Castin looked down at her heart rate meter on the treadmill. Just the number she wanted it to be on and not a digit out of place. Instead of smiling in her own proud, Castin lifted an eyebrow when she heard the sound of clapping. Blinking once, she picked her eyes off of the meter to see a small crowd of people bundled around the tread mill she still had one solid foot on. There were men with shocked expressions and even ones with scowls. Castin lifted her head up a tad bit more, letting a bead of sweat drop from her chin and onto her chest.

    "...Can I help you all?"

    The next second, the mass started to mumble and move on to do whatever it was they were going to be doing. Heads drooped down to avoid any further eye contact with Castin whatsoever, as if she was going to burn them all to flames just by looking at them. Castin's lips pulled into stout frown at the drop of civilization in the rec center. This was why she hated being there: because she was more of a standing diamond statue than a woman trying to stay fit.

    Whatever the matter, Castin snapped the meters shut and hung it around her neck while walking to the door, letting the meter hang loosely on her chest. Her daily running for minutes on end were over and all she wanted to do was to lay down in her bed. To get away from the eyes and the oos and ahhs of the crowd. It was getting pathetic.
  3. "Holy Shit, Nash. What the hell are you doing?"

    Nash snapped out of his trance. He was feeling incredibly confused as his thoughts began to catch up with his body, his eyes glued to the sight of the girl who attracted everyone there. She seemed to have far greater training than anyone here did. He began to imagine all the terrible things she must have done to her body to make it as toned as it was now. That was the kind of training he wanted. The training he needed to become stronger, and in short time. She pushed herself beyond the limits of others, and still seemed like it was a normal work-out plan.


    "Hey! Wait Up!"

    Nash suddenly found himself sprinting after the girl after a bit of thinking and exercise, exhausting himself as he struggled to catch up with the physical princess, as she was nearly walking out of his sight when he left the building.

    "Uh…I'm Nash. Nash Macleod. You looked- you WERE really cool back in there. I…Uh…was wondering if you could help me get healthier and more fit? And immediately. I'm starting to take up a couple of physical activities myself, like maybe joining a Basketball team, Paintball and Airsoft, Jeet Kune Do...a couple different things that require top physical condition. And I can't help but feel that I've been throwing away years of good health before now, so I want to improve myself, fast…"

    Nash began to huff a bit after speaking like that, and having ran a bit after difficult exercise, here to demand an extreme training regiment. A kind of uncertainty in his voice would lead anyone to believe that it was more than just a desire to become insanely active for his extra-cirricular activities.

    "I'd totally be willing to pay you. I have a job that pays pretty decently, and I'd be more than happy to spend some of that money on you- To uh…help me. You seem like a nice girl, and I've been through a couple awful dudes who didn't know a thing about fitness, just taking 'roids and screaming at the top of their lungs…I'd be willing to do anything in addition to the money, anything at all. I'm a weakling, and I know it…But I don't wanna be one anymore…"
  4. Weird.

    Castin was stopped just seconds from her freedom by a boy. A very strange and less muscular looking boy but a boy nonetheless. Strange as it was, he was not there to get her autograph or to stare at her for minutes on end with his mouth open like some kind of hot puppy. What he did was worse. He talked. A lot. About one of the things she hated talking about: sports, working out, training, and the sort. Castin tried desperately to keep up with what he was saying because this kid was Speed Racer when it came to speaking. She kept glancing from his mouth to his eyes with a confused tilt of her head, wondering how he was able to breathe. When he finally stopped however, Castin had but a few things to say.


    A loud thud was heard behind her and Castin immediately whipped around towards the source, a tingling of fear inkling down the base of her neck through her training-bra. Her silver hair slapped against her cheeks with the sheer speed in which she snapped her head towards the sound. The first and scariest thought was that someone dropped their weights while bench pressing. In other words, instadeath. Castin's golden eyes flew to a boy who was breathing in and out through his nose, bending over a 35 pound dumbell. Castin's face instantly dropped. Amateurs.

    She finally turned back to the boy, Nash was it?, looking at him just as peculiarly as before.

    "I'm not a membership. I'm a woman. The only time I'd ask you to pay me is if I suddenly became a prostitute and I do not see that happening."
    Her eyes locked with his for a moment, frown returning to her lips. "Though you could use some tips here and there..."
  5. "Ah…well…if you don't mind helping me…I'd owe you so much if you could help me." He replied, nervous about what she had said about herself. He didn't mean to make her angry at all. But he did understand the look on her face when she left the place. She was admired by others for her abilities. That was really all he heard people talk about when they watched her, discussion diverted away from normal topics to treat Castin as a Circus performer or something. When he heard the sound, Nash half-expected someone to take their last breath as a piece of exercise equipment sent them to the hospital with an injury: Or more likely, to the morgue, with the cause of death being a heavy barbell

    "…I just want the training, I'm not a fanatic or anything, so I won't be talking about protein shakes or anything 24/7…I couldn't care how I better myself as long as I get there in the end." He added suddenly, after they saw what had happened. Nash could only pray that he wouldn't kill his own body trying to take on such challenges.
  6. Castin considered it, which was a shocker. She was actually starting to consider helping Nash in his quest for...muscles and the such. Her frown deepened a bit more when he ask for help slowly began to sound more like begging. It was different to say the least. Castin was ignored by most in the rec center and for good reason. When she worked out she planted a scowl on her face that screamed 'talk-to-me-and-ill-kill-you', so she did have a reputation for looking the part. She certainly did have a lot of tips and facts and the former that could come in handy.

    The only problem and concern was why her and why not anyone else.

    Castin finally dropped her eyes away from his and looked down at her feet which were blanketed by her comfortable running shoes. She always did this when she became extremely nervous and or lost and deep thought. The second case was the reason this time. No, Castin. Why should you? He's just going to sit there in awe on how good you are working those steps and how hot you are lifting those waits. Why would you want to put yourself through that kind of torture? Just because you feel like doing a good deed? No. Leave this kid and go home to your bed. Castin's frown, if possible, grew even deeper when her golden eyes snapped back up to Nash's. She considered him for what he was for a second: a scrawny boy in need of a trainer. An awkward moment of silence passed before the two.

    "Fine. I'll help you. Just...don't call me Master or Sensei or anything. Castin will work just fine."she commented, leaning on her hip with her head tilted in the same direction: her signature pose, one could say.
  7. "…Awesome!…I'll eat lightning and crap thunder if it comes to it…" Answered a surprised, yet more positive Nash. "I promise not to be a bonehead at all: I'll do all my training, and I promise not to be a complete and utter pervert. You won't regret it!"

    Suddenly, Nash foolishly took Castin's right hand, and began to shake it a little, bit, his grip firm, as he hurried off to his own home, waving 'goodbye.' He didn't really fear her wrath for touching her body in some way at all, even if it was just a friendly touch. Thankfully he at least made a mad dash out of there before she could do or say anything. Every step felt heavier as he ran, having only a moment to stop and catch his breath, that being when he was with Castin. She was much taller than she appeared from slightly farther off.

    He entered his home via the use of a key- no, wait. No key. Just sneaking inside by a secret tunnel far from the house that lies within the sewers. It confused him as to why he'd left home without a house-key, but this was just as useful, if not time consuming. Regardless, he eventually found his way home. When he went inside, he caught a glimpse of his new swim trunks, colored dark blue, and featuring light green flames at the edge, the trunks reaching a little past the knees. He figured he'd wear it someday. Not tomorrow though, he was just going to hang around town and inhale some fresh air, enjoying life for what it was worth.

    In other words, he was going to be a slacker outside of his own home. Plus he wanted to eat out the entire day, having gained a marvelous twenty dollar bill (found in the gym locker room and claimed by its rightful owner) he decided he'd use for a cheap lunch AND dinner. Breakfast would be the only thing he'd have at home. All snacks would be paid for by the additional pocket change of approximately five dollars.

    Tomorrow was going to kick so much ass.

    That is, unless he were to bump into Castin in a more casual setting.
  8. Castin took everything he said in slow and small strides. That was the only way she could have done it, because he was speaking far too fast for her to keep up with. Half of what he said to her didn't make any sort of sense, but it was no different from what she said. Castin had actually agreed to help a complete stranger with working out and the sort. Not that it was such a horrible and disgusting thing to do; it wasn't. That's what personal trainers were for. What made this situation different was simple: Castin was not a personal trainer. She was a person that wanted to get in shape just like everyone else. So....why....did she just...?

    "Huh."she said simply, looking down at the hand that was shaken before released like she had some kind of disease that would have crawled up his veins if he would have held it for too long. Not that she blamed him. If he did hold it for longer than he already did Castin might have asked him was he insane. Nash took off in a full out sprint out the door after waving goodbye to her. Castin lifted a single brow, holding her hand up and curling and uncurling her fingers in a signature wave as well. Odd.

    With the smallest of sighs, Castin made sure her bag was secured on her left shoulder and that all of her items were intact. She had her own locker for those sorts of things, but she didn't plan on being back to the rec center until 2 days time. True, she was good at what she did, but she wasn't an athletic robot. There was some social life involved into that mix. Friends were few but they were still friends. It wouldn't hurt for her to lay back a while and relax in her accomplishments. Besides, she may have worked herself dry if she attempted to run for 30 more seconds on that damned tread mill.

    Taking one last look at where Nash ran off to, Castin took the opposite direction to the back parking lot, fishing her keys out of her bag. It would have been a sad, sad day for her if she was forced to walk home. The girl stayed a good ways away from the rec center. It took her 10 minutes for her to finally pull into her driveway of her tiny apartment. The nearly empty parking lot reminded her that her roommate was out for a 2 month vacation to the Carribean. Lucky whore, you. Castin ran her fingers through her hair and shuffled into the apartment, throwing her bag on the ground beside the nightstand. It was like walking through her house made all of her physical strength drop exceedingly, for the moment her foot slipped and her body plopped on the couch, Castin was out for the count.
  9. The following day, Nash found himself with some of his own friends, guys and a couple girls they knew, all signing up for a paintball match that morning. The first guy, Damon, had black hair and tanned skin, with a t-shirt and some shorts, as well as his newest pair of basketball sneakers, his friend Leon, sporting dirty blonde hair along with a polo shirt and some jeans. The girls they'd brought along were a couple of twins, both possessing red hair, with barely any freckles, one twin possessing a pink/purple style of clothing, the other a light blue/white style.

    The group was on their own, all searching through the armory of rental guns as Nash came upon one for himself. There were airsoft guns mixed in due to the fields being shared between the two games. Nash saw a rather interesting looking paintball pistol off in the corner. With a slight adjustment, it could be used for airsoft too. It was a revolver, as Nash felt more like Clint Eastwood possessing the pseudo-weapon that had a tag on it. Then he noticed it was a used weapon for sale! nice and cheap too, literally at three dollars. Nash knew this'd be a steal.

    "Is this really only three bucks?" Nash asked the guy up at the front.

    "Yeah. Most people tend not to use it. The regular reload time is slow unless you've got fast hands, and the ammo isn't commonly used, though people are trying to get it back into usage. I could sell you some speed loaders and ammo for a total of…$12. Cheap, but I think you'll be effective…"

    Nash immediately dug into his pockets for his wallet, slapping down three five dollar bills, and taking his things over to a locker he bought recently. He stowed the ammo carefully away in its box, and taking the extra speed loaders, stowing them in his pockets as he put on the ammo belt. The speed loaders were just incase he were to lose his larger ammo packs, or if he wasn't reloading paintball by paintball fast enough.

    All these casual thoughts felt more relaxing as he looked back on the large young lady who agreed to train him. It was just unreal, but he had no objections being subjected to Castin's current regiments, with the same amount weights, among other things. He began to imagine what it'd be like if she had arrived here to join a game or something. It'd be too weird to see her sporting a faux firearm and run around like a fem-rambo or something- He had to snap out of it! A mental slap did the trick, as he blinked once, and rubbed his eyes a moment, having nearly seen the image in his mind as he daydreamed...


    He began to load the paintballs in by hand, piece by piece, as quickly as he could, while he walked outside to meet up with his team for the game, as he immediately had all six rounds loaded.

    "The reload on this thing is exhilarating!…"
  10. Castin told herself over and over again during a bowl of Lucky Charms not to go to that stupid match. That today was her day to relax and kick back with her feet up and some sort of TV on. She deserved it, if anything. Working out had become her priority for the past sling of 4 days. Nonstop, body pumping working out for 4 days straight was hard on the muscles, bones, and the brain. Castin was starting to believe that she should live in the rec center other than visit day after day. It would have saved her gas money. At any rate, today was supposed to be her day off. Nothing but pure relaxation, bliss, and a whole bunch of time to do her own thing...

    Castin tapped her left foot down twice over the astro-turf of the paintball field. Regardless of the mantra she told herself, Castin still found herself on the opposite end of a large paintball arena, dressed in tight
    khaki shorts that were comfortable enough to run around in, a light blue tank to seal the deal. She didn't bother with her hair, simply lulling the short tuft back into a pony tail. A strand or two on her forehead poked out and bent above her eye, but Castin only had to blow upwards to move it out of the way.

    She didn't know anyone who was on the team with her, and that was perfectly good and fine. The minute she stepped onto the turf, heads turns and jaws dropped; the usual greeting. Castin's golden eyes lifted from the floor and onto the eyes of the people around her. First, there was a lanky, ball headed boy who looked to be about 6'2. Castin had to tilt her head up a bit to match her eyes with his. The boy, tall and very scrawny looking, returned her gaze with an upturned nose as if she was a bearded lady. Castin regarded him for a second before tilting her head to the next two.

    They were two males, Pacific Island kind of looking with a short stubble of turbo greased hair that nearly made her nose wrinkle. These boys literately undressed her with their eyes, the one with that fitted hat going so far as to lick his lips. Castin responded immediately to that by grabbing the magnum on her hip and smacking the butt down against her palm, eyes laying right on the gun in hand. There was a CLACK! sound that snapped all three of the boys out of their trances and stationary states.

    "Shall we?"she said softly and innocently.
  11. Nash stared off ahead in the distance where the others were. They all appeared to be faced towards one person on the team, who they assumed was the team leader for them, as Nash's group all broke off, each of the twin girls going with one of the other boys, Nash alone to fend for himself Rambo style, as he departed with a regular rifle strapped to his back, and a paint grenade in hand, just waiting to use it.

    Eventually he spotted one of the girls acting as a sniper far off, hidden, as he turned back to hide just as one of the greasy haired boys ran his way. He began a mad sprint towards the other boy, roaring loudly to throw him off, as he pulled the pin on the grenade, and dropped it near the other boy's feet, as he slid past, watching the explosive touch the ground between the boy's legs, and covering his groin in yellow paint, and a slight sting, Nash simply going further as he brandished his rifle, and came upon the tall boy, about to unload some ammo on his back, when he was in awe of Castin suddenly appearing on the battlefield, appearing to be that 'team leader' he saw before.

    Just as he was about to say something, a round hit him square in the face, and he fell backwards a little, jumping back onto his feet and climbing up to wipe his face, seeing that the second islander boy had got him in revenge, Nash raising an arm and stating that he was out, walking towards the red team's 'prison' as he watched Castin continue playing with the others, shocked to see her wielding her own paintball gun and in battle with his own team. All he could think of was how screwed everyone was now that she was here, and already took one of their players. He watched her as she moved and did whatever- No, that was not the mindset he was supposed to have! Just shoot first and win. No Kiss Kiss, just all Bang Bang…

    He watched one of the twins fire at the pacific islander boy who got him, then try and get Castin...
  12. He had to have recognized her before she recognized him because her head was in the game. There was a certain slack she had to pick up all by herself, which was not that surprising in fact. Castin always had to carry the dead weight around her back like some large, grotesque hump. The two Islander boys were fast. Really fast. That was there impending doom. Speed was good to have in a match of evade and attack, but not if they were going to run out in the middle of the arena like blind puppies, which is exactly what happened. Leaning her back against a pillar, Castin watched while one guy got smoked by a grenade right in the place where the sun didn't shine, eliminating him immediately. The other guy managed to get away just in time...just to get offed by a snipe.

    A blur to her left caught her attention. Good. She was tired watching her teammates attempt to do all the work like the typical big-headed guys would do. The blur was another person, Nash to be exact. When her brain registered what her eyes saw, Castin tilted her head, looking dead at him as he looked dead at her. There was a momentary pause...before he was shot directly in the face. Castin made a pained face at the paint that splotched across Nash before directing her attention back to the field. There were only two on the other team against her and Mr.Tall.

    She wished there was an elaborate way to go about eliminating the last two girls on the team, but there really wasn't. She did it all by herself. Mr.Tall laid prone on the ground with the but of his rifle nestled right in the middle of his cheek, looking down the scope to the other side of the arena. Castin didn't even bother. She just bent her entire weight down and zipped through the course, catapulting over everything in her way until she was standing directly above a ground pillar, popping both women once in the shoulder. Game over.

    She casually stuck her gun in the lining of her hip, waltzing over to the prison of the opposite team. Nash sat waiting with not the slightest look of disappointment in his face. Castin made a mental note there. She reached her hand behind her head to release her silver hair from the pony tail, feeling her head constrict and loosen suddenly, hair braising her neck and falling around her shoulders.

    "Did you even shoot anybody?"she asked with a challenging smirk.
  13. "I got the one guy with a grenade. Otherwise I was…doing recon to find out where your sniper was hidden." He lied. "Your team just got lucky, that's all."

    Once he spoke to Castin, he passed his rifle over to one of his teammates for them to dual wield, while he whipped out his new revolver. It was time to get serious. Finished staring at Castin, Jack checked his cylinder and speed loaders. He was ready to shoot people. His team all came back together. Now they were going to act on their secondary plan: Sticking together and attacking as a group, much like a SWAT team, each packing different skills. Altogether, they could mow down any opposition that came at them, bro or not.

    With careful synchronization from previous games, they all managed to stay relatively close so they could pick off the group one by one. They first came across Mr. Tall, Nash, one of the twins, and the dirty blonde boy gunned down like Al Capone and a traitorous sonovabitch that just betrayed his moonshining operation. Without the sniper, long range support was pretty much out. The group continued onwards to victory, the pacific island boys holed up in one spot as they poured down paintballs at the group, and missing. One of the five on Nash's team was lost, but there were still a good four of them, and still one player more than Castin's team.


    "Bro, I'mma go in, and shoot them from up close!"

    "Yo insane! y'all can't hit that!"

    "I'mma do it anyway. YOOOOOOOOLOOOOO!!!!"


    The group stopped firing at the scream of 'yolo' and saw one of the boys coming towards them, rapidly firing. The group of four rushed to try and hit the ballistic target, and were failing, Nash throwing up an arm, as he gripped his pistol, and aimed down the sights, as he fired downwards from the waist up to the face with all six rounds, Team Nash running behind some cover to reload.

    "COMEDOWNMOTHERFUCKERS!!" Exclaimed a random voice, followed by gunfire. Nash didn't care if it was his team, or the others. No one was shooting them from the other side, so it was either his teammates, or the guy on the other side. Nash was about to fire when one of the twins was hit, and out, as well as the one other boy on their team at the moment, turning it into a two on two match.

    Nash pulled out one more grenade, and started running straight into the hail of paintballs, tossing the grenade into the boy's chest, watching purple paint explode all over his body as Nash touched the wall of the structure the islanders hid inside of, avoiding the paint and gesturing to the twin girl to follow him. They had to finish off Castin now or never.
  14. This time, she had no other choice but to protect her teammate. Now that it became a two on two, Castin had to play the part of team leader and teammate. No more one person shows. Even though she could have easily taken out the other two without so much batting an eyelash in the direction of the other team. She saw streaks of what she guessed were the enemies, yet she remained calm, crouching in a low position, but still squatting on the tips of her feet, ready to leap at a moment's notice.

    That moment came in an explosion.

    Castin was forced to look to her right when a shower of purple suddenly splayed across a pillar hiding her teammate. His leg, however, was sticking right out of pillar, covering his ankle in the violet color. Castin played it cool, turning her attention to the other side to see if Nash would be coming to ambush her. The fist thing they might have thought she would do was to pop her body out and off the person her offed her teammate. She simply didn't do it because she didnt care. Her golden eyes zipped to the left and she took her time aiming her pistol at a curved angle.


    Someone went down. Castin wasn't sure what was, but by the time she aught her breath, a pang hit her right in the leg, causing her to drop to one knee, staring down at the yellow liquid covering her calf muscle.

    She was out.
  15. Nash dropped to the ground as a shot took his shoulder clean, namely the right shoulder where he held his gun, causing him to drop it. A second shot hit him right on the bicep and sending a miniature shockwave through his arm, as he moved backwards. and stared at the red paint that covered his arm. Pure coincidence. He snatched his gun, and yelled out to the heavens "I'm hit! I'm hit!" as he left to the other team's prison area again, as the twin girl screamed, and ran off to hide, before surrendering herself.


    The match had been surprisingly short, much to everyone's surprise, as Nash said his goodbyes to the others, Castin's team congratulating her on all the stuff she did, before they left. When everyone was gone, Nash walked on over to Castin. He was silent, every now and then trying to say something, but stopping. It took him a moment, but he eventually managed to speak to her.

    "Castin? Didn't think I'd find you here…I mean, I just never pegged you for a paintball player, man…That was a cool match though, nice double-shot at the end. I haven't really got anything else to do today, so…you wanna just hang out? I'd like to get to know you, if you don't mind me getting personal even though you're going to train me later…"

    He kept his eyes fixed on hers, though desperately he wanted to look away, feeling as though his actions would get him beaten violently.
  16. Castin let out an annoyed sigh while she ran lukewarm water over her now paint blotched leg. She won, yeah, but now she was dirty. The game had nearly ended in a stalemate if she hadn't have been too quick for their own good. In the end, the other team got close enough to beating them, but a failure is a failure. She looked over to Nash who was standing in front of her, looking like a fish. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

    "Use your words."she advised, returning her gaze back to the leg. The paint was beginning to wash away quickly, the pitter patter of the water dropping on the ground soothing her adrenaline over. Her heart rate returned to what she figured was normality, the thrill of the game no longer there. She wasn't tired at all. Just glad that she was done making a mockery of all of those people. Some may call it showing off. Castin called it playing paintball.

    "You pegged me right. I'm not a paintball player unless I'm bored and have nothing else to do. Which is why I'm here right now."she said smugly before turning her gaze onto him and his awkward look. "Good game for you too. I suppose losers deserve credit. You definitely made a challenge for those other people on my team." She was beginning to notice that her arrogance was budding inside her throat. Castin didn't normally talk so lowly about people, especially when it came to athletics. Her harsh comments just brought more attention on her. She didn't want more eyes to prod he body and techniques any longer than she had to.

    "Hang out, huh? Haven't heard that in a while."she replied, quirking a silver eyebrow towards him, waiting for him to tell her how its all a joke. He didn't respond so she simply tipped her head forward. "You're asking me if you can get personal with me? ...You're not from here are you?"she replied with a wrinkle on her nose.
  17. "This town? Don't know anything about it, or you, honestly. Unless I'm selling my soul to the devil, or something of that nature? I mean, if you don't mind taking pity on the loser new kid and showing him around town." He replied, trying to sound less nervous after what she said about the games. "I mean...wouldn't you wanna get these games off our minds? Relax, You shot people with fake bullets and got hit with fake bullets. All I'm asking for is that we just chill now, and not do anything...strenuous. Just two regular people, grabbing a bite and seeing the sights. Unless you prefer something as heavy as saving the world, or trying to save a life?"

    Nash kept his eyes trained on hers, as if to say he had not a drop of humor in the things he had just said. He wasn't sure how the girl would respond at all. He was prepared to rejection. He didn't enjoy her 'victory' soaking her up and making her feel a bit high and mighty. He turned a moment to look at the people who had noticed her, whether they be there for Castin physically, or for her choice of words. They began to slowly turn their heads back around, some even leaving early for their matches, but that was coincidental...right?

    "Then again...are you a Twin? The Castin I saw back at the gym was different. I dunno...Like a whole other aura. You believe anything like that? People having a certain glow to them, that defines them? I dunno if I do for sure...supernatural stuff is crazy."

    Nash began to go off a bit, totally off topic. His mind raced through images of the Ghostbusters film, a couple Creepypasta wiki articles on the net among other things...the definition of a couple aura colors, and a couple sounds he'd heard the other night before bed.
  18. It was tough for her to keep her eyes from burrowing in frustration. Believe it or not, Castin was actually holding back her anger and annoyance. That was a first. Nash went on a spree of words, taking different twists in his statements to the point where she almost didn't know what the hell he was talking about anymore. It took her a while to notice that he was answering her question. Her rhetorical question. Castin lifted a single brow, tilted her head only a tad, and listened on as he talked. She opened her mouth to interject a couple of times, but Nash was on a roll and didn't stop for anything she attempted to say. The kid was an activist for speed talking. Finally, he paused for a second.

    Castin stared at him, waiting for him to say something else. He didn't. She waited another 3 seconds. He still didn't utter a word. She finally took her chance and opened her mouth.

    "If you thought playing paintball was strenuous for me, then boy do I have things to tell you, kid. I'm aware that bullets are fake, believe me. I'm good but I don't want to kill anyone with pretty colors, thank you. I made the comment because I haven't...haven't been asked that in a while." She paused for a moment in a wary way of her words. It was true to the bone; she hadn't been asked to hang out since she was a stone faced high schooler. Once she wrinkled her nose in nostalgia, Nash started the talking again. God preserve me. I'll be here forever.

    "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, alright? I'll go eat with you. If it'll get you to stop the supernatural talk."she said, throwing him a puzzled look before turning around. "Pizza."she said before walking away from him and out the door, not caring if he was following her or not. She was going to eat the Italian dish with or without him.
  19. "Pizza? Psshaw!" Replied Nash. The boy really wasn't in the mood for pizza. He began to daydream about giant burgers, french fries, and milkshakes, eating tons upon tons of the stuff, recalling the tastes and- Oh god. Now he wasn't in the mood for burgers. He tried thinking about other things like hotdogs. Then he began to wonder what the meat was made of really. He tried thinking of Nachos and such, but then he realized he was not at all interested in anything of the sort, having had taco bell the other day already. He thought long and hard, trying to think of something besides pizza...

    "...Pizza, yay?" Nash suddenly said, pretending he never went 'Psshaw!' at all, doubling back around after losing all possible interest and appetite in eating any of the other foods he thought of. "Forget I said anything, Pizza sounds beautiful right now. Much more beautiful than burgers. Or hot dogs. Or Taco Bell. Hah..."


    Nash followed Castin out the door and however she planned to get to the place. whether it be her own car, a bus, whatever. All that mattered was they made it from point A to B in one piece. Of course, every now and then Nash would glance at Castin. He didn't really say anything more after immediately changing his mind about what he wanted to eat. The weather was growing much warmer, Nash pulling a little on his shirt collar, as he thirsted for just about any cold drink he could get his hands on. He had the money to spare, so he figured he'd eat lightly and have a large drink, of course, failing to consider that it would result in some kind of consequence later on.

    Continuing, they were at what was quoted to be 'The most Italian Place this side of America.' If a restaurant could get ten stars, it was this place. At least, that's what most people thought. The establishment, known simply as 'The Firenze,' was known for being casual in the daylight, and as the sun would set, it became much classier. The two of course, were there during daytime. Nash was moving slightly ahead of Castin, his lightspeed speech only second to the boost in movement he gained in thirst and hunger. One line later, the two were seated at a booth that Nash immediately requested, having been here many times before with friends and family, usually always going for the booth.

    "...Sorry." He apologized. "Did you want a regular table, or?..."
  20. "The pizza is going to taste the same wherever I sit, so..."

    She really had to quit it with the sarcastic remarks. Nash was going to think she was some emo girl who didn't care about anything in life! Well, there were some things in which she wouldn't bother wasting her breath on, but why would she have to show some random boy those things? Why had he all of a sudden made her so snappy?

    Castin had did her best not to say more than two words to him while the two drove down to the Italian pizza shop. She found out quick that he was a talker and she wasn't up for much conversation. The sting of the paintball shot on her leg went away as she booked it down the highway. The Firenze wasn't far from the paintball arena, a 12 minute drive at the most. Castin rode with the windows down and the radio up. If Nash wanted to say something, he would have to wait.

    Now he had the perfect opportunity to say anything he wanted to once the two of them had settled into their booth, a menu resting in front of them. Castin looked down at the menu and eyed the buffet slogan and instantly made up her mind. For 6.99, getting all you can eat pizza was not a bad price. Hunger built in her stomach since her eyes broke open from her sleep that morning. She had made the mistake of only eating an apple before she exerted all of that energy during the game. She had a protien bar in her bag that would have dome her fine after the game...until Nash asked her to eat. Now she was sitting at the table waiting for her waiter. She darted a look to Nash and tilted her head.

    "Tell me. Why me? Why do you want me to train you out of all people? Is it just because I was the first person you saw in that rec center and automatically assumed I was some kind of personal trainer?"she asked, tilting her head a bit more.