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What the hell is a baseball?
"For a start, look at me. I'm built like a truck. Why would I be smacking balls around, baseball or cricket; when this;" he indicated to his body with the bat, "is much better put to use as a prop. Or goalie, whichever we happened to be playing." He paused for a second to roll a crick out of his neck, before continuing. "I do have... some knowledge though. Baseball isn't too far off rounders, which is a massive girl's sport in Blighty, and my uncle is a baseball fan. Not fanatic, but he likes the Wolf Pack. Which is strange, because from what I gather, this is Wildcat territory." He replied to the unasked question tersely. "I have no clue about those teams other than the name and state they come from. Unlike Leicster Tigers. They've actually got a shot this year, which is nice."

He indicated for Cristo to follow. "So, I kinda know the basics, but feel free to give me some tips if I fuck up too badly, alright? Maybe if I start with some Yank sports my Aunt'll get off my back with the whole 'cultural assimilation' bollocks. Don't see the point myself, but anything to shut her yapping up for about 10 seconds will be welcome."

What the hell is a baseball?
Will sighed and picked up the bat, before tossing it up in the air, causing it to whirl and spiral before smacking back into his palm with a meaty clap. It was smooth, he thought, far smoother than the grippy coverings that cricket bats had, and he ran his left hand along the side. Pitcher, pitcher, pitcher. Who was gonna throw it... His eyes flitted about the gym, before resting on a fellow student. Cristo, the Mexican dude. Also a massive goth. Or emo, he wasn't exactly sure. He was also tossing a baseball in the air. And looking at him.

He sauntered over, making sure not to drag the bat against the ground. He may not appreciate the sport, but you appreciated the equipment. Looked after it, even if it wasn't your gear. Scratch that, especially if it wasn't yours. He looked down at the kid, not because he felt any superiority over the guy, but because he looked down at everyone. Even Rea.

"You've got a ball and a clue, I've got a bat and neither. Should we?"

Survivor: Cambodia Mafia Game Thread
Not*. I guess I have to read through all of the parts I missed now.

Survivor: Cambodia Mafia Game Thread
At last, the travelling has ended. I should be a bit more active now that I'm nit taking constant flights.

What the hell is a baseball?
Will looked at the bat. He'd seen them of course, seen how you held them, seen how you were supposed to hit the ball, but... In practise? Never tried it. He supposed there was no time like the present, but just looking at the stupid thing made him confused. Why were Yanks so anti-British sport? They had the gall to name the sport that the rest of the world called football 'soccer,' and then name their pussified version of Rugby 'American Football,' and then they'd basically turned rounders into a game that grown men could play without looking like they'd had their balls hacked off.

Give him a cricket bat, and he'd have been fine. Wasn't his favourite sport, but he could play it. Stick him in a scrum and he'd be pushing with the best of them. Give him a pair of goalie gloves and nothing was getting past him. But this?

Now all he needed was a bowler. Shit, no, they called it a pitcher in this ridiculous version of the sport he'd grown up with. And I'm a Gymn full of pupils, finding one shouldn't be that hard, right?

International Relations
Will was panting slightly. Sure, the run hadn't been any further than his last run, or the one before that, but he'd managed to cut the time down from 30 mins, 24 seconds, down to 29 mins exactly. And whilst that didn't seem too much for most people, every time he cut the time down, it involved more sweat and hard work until it came normally to him. And then he'd try to cut the time down again, unational eventually he would hit the fastest time he could possibly go. Still, he was a long way off from that moment.

Had he looked up, he would've seen Rea Adams asking him for directions, but the incredibly loud techno that he worked out to had basically blocked out all incoming noise from his surroundings, so it was only when his earbuds came out did he look up in surprise.

She was tall, was his first thought. Very, very tall. Probably the same height as me. In fact, had it not looked like she was struggling to stand up against the wind, she would have been the only person he'd met to intimidate him. As it was, however, she simply irritated him. Immensely.

Standing up to his full hight, and with a single eyebrow raised, he was so much bigger than her muscle-wise, that he seriously wondered what she'd been thinking. Glaring, he growled "What do you want?"

I've Got You, Under My Skin
Had this been a romance movie, Will would've swooped down and grabbed her, gracefully leaning over into that dance pose, before hauling her up. Real life, however, rarely went down like that, and Will ended up almost being pulled down himself, had he not quite literally dug in his heels and pulled the stumbling Rea up. It was clunky, and completely ingraceful, but it was far better than landing face-first onto wooden flooring, so there was always that.

There was a minor complication though, that being the ungodly ways his suit started to pinch. Had he been even slightly more vigorous in his pulling, he was entirely sure the suit would have just shredded itself into about five different peices. As it was, his arms, shoulders, crotch and chest all suffered one of the worst pinches he'd ever felt in his entire life.

"Rea. I'm pretty sure this suit is gonna tear if I have to do that again. Do you have some flats in your car or something? Because you really don't need heels to look good."

Bang Bang, the coyote hits the ground
Will was angry. It didn't matter at what or for what reason, because anger was just anger, and said anger was going to be channeled out of the end of a .22 Mossberg and into the head of a distant coyote where the anger could rot for all he cared. Breathe in, breathe out, hilariously, the one thing that Hollywood had gotten right about aiming guns was the most boring; breath control. If you were heaving in great lungfuls of air, then you'd never be able to even properly sight your target, let alone shoot the damn thing.

Will's rucksack was lying beside him, the slight wind having kicked up a fine coating of dust for it to wear whilst he lay down here. Inside was the usual fare; water, some snacks and, of course, spare ammunition. Never go out with only the magazine in the gun his father used to say, and he was right. You took spare ammo. You took it so that you could stay out longer. You took it so you could always have reserves. You took it so that if something was wrong with the magazine in the gun, you wouldn't return home with only a clicking sound to signal your lack of success. Of course, the real reason you took ammunition in the first place was simple; to shoot something.

At least this time, Will thought, there would be a point other than thinning out the hordes of pests that seemed to swamp Arizona like rabbits, and that was the Luz family wanting revenge for a few dead birds. Sure, it probably wasn't the particular coyote that was being lined up in his sights, but there you go. Life's a bitch, and then you get shot so it doesn't even matter. Breathe out and squeeze trigger, easy as that for him. Inside the gun however, the mechanisms would be working. The firing pin would strike down against the primer of the bullet, causing, contrary to popular belief, not an explosion, but a very fast controlled burn which would expel the bullet out on its deadly course. The bullet would be rotated by the rifling, increasing the accuracy and allowing it to hit it's mark.

Of course, to a human, all that was obvious would be the trigger going back and the alarmingly loud crack of the rifle as newton's... first law? third... law? Probably first. Newton's first law would come into effect; every action has an equal and opposite reaction. the equal action would be the recoil, and the opposite reaction would be the knock back felt, or rather not felt, by the coyote at the other end. He winced at the sound going off. He had been silly to forget the ear protection, and he'd certainly be hearing a wedding going on in his ears what with all the ringing, but it wasn't permanent. Probably.

There was a noise as the bullet smacked into the poor animal, and he looked through the sights to take a look. Clean shot, not quite through the eye, but you win some you lose some. Shouldering the rifle and one-strapping his rucksack, he moved slowly towards the dead canine, pausing as he smelt something rotten. Had the animal been ill? Upon arriving at the corpse however, Will quickly realized. "Well i'll be damned." he whistled to himself, surprised at his luck; "I actually got the same fucker who killed the chickens." He patted the dog on the head and picked it up, making sure not to get any blood on him. "Life's a bitch my friend, but you got shot for the right reason."

Morning Dew
Maria let out a yawn, inwardly extremely pleased that Rea had left. Whilst, to be entirely honest, she didn't mind Will, he was a stuck up bastard to be sure, but he wasn't... Well, he wasn't an entitled airhead who couldn't even name what animal milk came from. "What happened with Asha and her? And is she so entirely clueless as to think us part of the same cliche or something?" She took a look at her clothes. "Huh, these do actually look kinda goth. Might have to change that then..." Seemingly waving away any further conversation, she forced a smile. "The headache's coming back with a vengeance. Maybe some more painkillers and a gallon of water'll let me actually sleep a bit. Hate being tired on a weekend; too much stuff to do..." She started off, out of the park and in the direction of her home, before remembering something. "See you two around school, yeah? Amanda, I may have a recipe idea you'll want to see, right up your alleyway actually."

Just as she started to get out of earshot, she shouted out for the last time;' "Oh, and Amanda? Nothing is overboard when it comes to that fucking Aussie. nothing." 'Where the fuck did I put my bike.... Ah shit, I walked didn't I. I'm an idiot." Muttering to herself, Maria left Sumac park, the rising sun warming her back as she walked away.

((Maria Cuccinotta, continued elsewhere)

I've Got You, Under My Skin
"Stiffly, formally, and only practiced with cousins. Basically, I have about as much clue as a drunk sailor after a month on board a sub. That is to say, absolutely none at all..." He paused for a moment. " Still, the holding hands thing whilst gently swaying to the music seems to be simple enough, and should spare us embarrassment." He looked up. Most of the students had absolutely no clue what to make of the song, and he supposed that was understandable, most of the songs wouldn't have been old Sinatra croonings, but something from... Well, the last decade and a half at least he supposed.

To be frank, the Sadie Hawkins had made no sense to Will. Ok, bucking social conventions by the girl being the 'persuer,' so to speak, but this was 2015; you were more likely to end up banging someone you'd had physical contact with for only a few hours than you would following the incredibly nonsensical and chaperoned affairs that had gone on only a century or so ago. Carefully, Will shifted his collar, which was already feeling pretty choked as it was, and took Rea's two hands in his, almost causing them to vanish. "You know Rea, if you weren't so reedy, you might've been the first women to have ever, ever intimidated me when I was fully grown." He smiled. "Luckily you didn't, because that would have probably ended in a very different path that did not end in us standing at this bizarre dance."

Morning Dew
Maria, who had been rather passive in the conversation since her initial outburst, instead focusing on nursing a now-growing headache as the painkillers started to wear off. Finally opened her mouth; "To be perfectly honest Amanda, it's not like that was anymore appealing to me than you. I merely there up trying that dish out, not because it was badly cooked or anything, but because who mixes chocolate and meat? Seriously!" Maria drained her Red Bull and turned, wondering what had attracted everyone else's attention.

Upon seeing Rea, her face visibly darkened. "Oh, it's you. Mrs 'My parents are super wealthy, my boyfriend is super wealthy and I'm super wealthy so you can all fuck off! Except don't, because that would be against the Lord!'" She put on an overly exaggerated sing-song voice and glared at Rea, clearly not happy with the new arrival's approach. "Stuck-up-bitch."

With that, Maria walked to a nearby trashcan and dropped the now-empty Red Bull can into it, listening to the hollow clang of metal against metal. She paused for a second, then let out a deep sigh and returned. "If I don't get the irresistible urge to punch your stupid face in in the next five minutes, we're all good, ok?

I've Got You, Under My Skin
And there she was, smiling, with a single eyebrow raised. Will smiled back, his gaze trailing down her face, onto her snow-white dress, her legs and finally... "I never thought I'd see you wearing a pair of heels." She looked so uncomfortable in those it almost made him burst out laughing, and he was sure she'd see a faint smirk play across his lips. He took a few steps forward and gently kissed her on her forehead, before loosely picking up and holding her hand.

"We've got matching dress, what with me in white and you in white as well. Hell, at this point we might as well be snowmen." He paused, before adding "Well, snowman and woman. We share the same coloration at the very least..." He shifted uncomfortably, feeling stupidly awkward for wearing a bow tie with this suit. What if she realised? Then, he remembered; as much as he loved Rea, she could barley toast a piece of bread, let alone realise the different types of suit and how to properly accessorise them; he was in the clear.

He turned, still holding her hand, and looked out onto the gym. The theme was space-related, and the faculty (and presumably whatever student body had been 'in charge' of the event,) had done a fairly decent job of transforming it from where the students expelled sweat, fat and tears into something that wouldn't look out of place if a 1960's B-movie flick was filmed in the hall.

Will fished in his pocket to find the packet of gum stashed in there, knowing that his father would be mortified if he found out what the pockets were being used for. Popping a piece in his mouth, he listened to the opening bars of I've Got You Under My Skin play, and offered an arm to Rea. "Shall we?"

I've Got You, Under My Skin
((Will McKinley Sadie Hawkins Start))

Will hated tailored suits. Don't get him wrong, they were nearly always very expensive, excellent quality and very stylish, but the downside was that, well, they were tailored. Designed specifically to fit your body type as and when they were ordered. The suit he was wearing, a gorgeous white three-piece that had been in mothballs for quite a while now, whilst an excellent cut, reminded him painfully of all the ways his body had grown and adjusted in the months since if had come out of the packaging. That was to say, it pinched in all the wrong places.

He walked into the hall that the Sadie Hawkins was set in, and was struck by how small it was compared to what he was used to from his childhood. Then again, his childhood was one where a trip to the Albert Hall was considered suitable entertainment for a six year old, (spoiler alert, even for someone brought up to like classical music, it was stil incredibly dull) so he wasn't exactly in a situation to judge.

Of course, neither was Rea, wherever she was. Unlike most dates, Rea was insistent on going by herself, although how much that was to allay her parents Will would never know. Will uncomfortably shifted in the suit, and a hand absentmindedly twisted one of his cufflinks this way and that.Calm down, he thought to himself; you're probably just a little early and she hasn't made it yet is all. Or, at least, he hoped so. He would never forgive himself if something happened to that girl.

Kingman goes Kinkman (as demanded by Frogue)
I'm scared to mention the Will McKinley/Rea Adams actual relationship now...

Survivor: Cambodia Mafia Game Thread
I am fully aware of how scummy this must seem incidentally...

Survivor: Cambodia Mafia Game Thread
Really sorry, got internet problems right now. I'm leeching off of free wifi in a restraunt to make this post, and I haven't touched a computer in over 2 weeks. I'll respond to the wall of text whenever I've got a spare moment and enough charge on my phone.

Survivor: Cambodia Mafia Game Thread
Hey, you guys wanted to hear more from me? Ok then.

I really, really don't like this ballot box voting, simply because it gives opportunities for scum to basically fuck everything up in later game, and suffer fewer consequences. Also, with the loss of the Doc and Trapper, we're significantly worse off.

As for reads... I don't have any, sorry. This is only my second Mafia game forum-wise, so I'm much more used to reads through facial expressions, etc.

Last thing is that I've got (and will have) spotty Internet for a while because I'm visiting family in SA.

The Magical Friendship Thread of Dannyrulx!
Bump bump bumpady bump.

Also, Will's probably hopefully very nearly done, so if anyone wants to be friends with the rich Scottish wannabe soldier, there you go.

Ignore this.
Simply put, too early and too little chance of character interaction. I'll be saving it for later.

Hello I would like friends please
Why do I get the feeling that Johhny is more screwed than a handle in a broken door?