Mar 25, 2018 19:56:10 GMT -6
Post by Haven Kyoujii on Mar 25, 2018 19:56:10 GMT -6
[attr="class","trying"]
[attr="class","we1"]
[attr="class","avatar"]
[attr="class","lost1"]...Crap.
[attr="class","rise"]
[attr="class","dying1"]
[attr="class","mouths1"]...Alright… Let’s see if it can last a few more shots…
With that thought, another chain and pattern of both rapid steps and the like sounded throughout the courts of a nearby park; accompanied by the sounds of a ball colliding with metal, chains clattering together as the aforementioned ball passed through them, or perhaps the faint vibration of another sort of metal as the very same ball bounded off of it. In any case, however, they were swift and constant all the same; only winding up with another chain of rapid steps running further along the court before circling back around. Each time, a particular, younger man seemed to stop himself anywhere between the three pointer rim and the free throw line, placing a faint degree of strength within his legs before giving a small hop to keep his momentum. All the while, he caught the ball that he’d been dribbling and brought it up with a robotic limb; using his right hand as a support while the artificial left flicked its wrist to toss the ball through the air and into the hoop with a perfect arc.
It slipped easily and smoothly through the rim and chains alike, prompting him to smirk vaguely under his breath.
Now, he himself was born as a right handed person, yet...he shot with his left hand. It was a habit that he’d gone through in order to test matters out every so often- and as one could guess, the matters more or less pertained to that other arm of his. Y’know...that hunk of metal that took the place of his left arm? Yeah. That. He was testing that out every time he made a small adjustment to it for sake of seeing whether or not it would hold up or spaz in the long run- and hey, basketball was always a much loved sport of his- even from when he was younger. So...ever since getting accustomed to that arm and learning his way around maintaining it himself?
He took care to use it a bit more often to test its limits. First, it started off with things like this. Basketball. Sports in general. Then it branched off to more common things. Writing. Holding things. ...And before he knew it, he found himself capable of being ambidextrous.
...Which is why he was perfectly capable of fixing himself up when his arm freaked out a bit too much.
Albeit, that was the reason why he was out. He purposely pushed his left arm to see if it could function, but when it didn’t - and it obviously didn’t, by the way that it went a little bit out of control when he went to retrieve the ball - he still had another hand as a fallback. A small, moderately surprised hissed and curse escaped his lips as he reached over to hold the robotic hand itself down and keep it at bay; waiting patiently until it stopped before sighing and sliding his lips along the metal. Furrowing his brows, he eyed the basketball for a moment more before crouching down and kneeling down on a knee; sliding his fingers across the metal until they hovered over a particular button and pushed it down. Once that was done, a compartment closer to the center of his forearm opened up; revealing an array of small tools lodged within it for moments like this.
He picked one out before pressing another button that revealed a small section of the wires and the like that were located near the bend of the elbow; eyeing the contents before sighing and softly beginning to tinker around.
With that thought, another chain and pattern of both rapid steps and the like sounded throughout the courts of a nearby park; accompanied by the sounds of a ball colliding with metal, chains clattering together as the aforementioned ball passed through them, or perhaps the faint vibration of another sort of metal as the very same ball bounded off of it. In any case, however, they were swift and constant all the same; only winding up with another chain of rapid steps running further along the court before circling back around. Each time, a particular, younger man seemed to stop himself anywhere between the three pointer rim and the free throw line, placing a faint degree of strength within his legs before giving a small hop to keep his momentum. All the while, he caught the ball that he’d been dribbling and brought it up with a robotic limb; using his right hand as a support while the artificial left flicked its wrist to toss the ball through the air and into the hoop with a perfect arc.
It slipped easily and smoothly through the rim and chains alike, prompting him to smirk vaguely under his breath.
Now, he himself was born as a right handed person, yet...he shot with his left hand. It was a habit that he’d gone through in order to test matters out every so often- and as one could guess, the matters more or less pertained to that other arm of his. Y’know...that hunk of metal that took the place of his left arm? Yeah. That. He was testing that out every time he made a small adjustment to it for sake of seeing whether or not it would hold up or spaz in the long run- and hey, basketball was always a much loved sport of his- even from when he was younger. So...ever since getting accustomed to that arm and learning his way around maintaining it himself?
He took care to use it a bit more often to test its limits. First, it started off with things like this. Basketball. Sports in general. Then it branched off to more common things. Writing. Holding things. ...And before he knew it, he found himself capable of being ambidextrous.
...Which is why he was perfectly capable of fixing himself up when his arm freaked out a bit too much.
Albeit, that was the reason why he was out. He purposely pushed his left arm to see if it could function, but when it didn’t - and it obviously didn’t, by the way that it went a little bit out of control when he went to retrieve the ball - he still had another hand as a fallback. A small, moderately surprised hissed and curse escaped his lips as he reached over to hold the robotic hand itself down and keep it at bay; waiting patiently until it stopped before sighing and sliding his lips along the metal. Furrowing his brows, he eyed the basketball for a moment more before crouching down and kneeling down on a knee; sliding his fingers across the metal until they hovered over a particular button and pushed it down. Once that was done, a compartment closer to the center of his forearm opened up; revealing an array of small tools lodged within it for moments like this.
He picked one out before pressing another button that revealed a small section of the wires and the like that were located near the bend of the elbow; eyeing the contents before sighing and softly beginning to tinker around.
[attr="class","lying1"]✎ Sophia Bell , (return of the spazzy arm)
ulla
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