Cooling Down. (CS/Zane)

Flight, every creatures longing desire, to join the avian gods above. Freedom in it's fullest form, that is what soaring was in it's purest form. Men would give their souls for such a gift, for such a life. Wish prayed for such men, trapped within their cubicles staring into the sky as though their dreams would simply fall from the heavens above. As if some benevolent god shown solely on them, as if they were destined for something more. Zane couldn't fly, but he could do the next best thing.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

If Zane knew one thing, it was how to live. His voice could be heard ringing out for several blocks, a null fact when you consider that he could be seen for several more. At least a good hundread feet in the air, his body would be soaring through the gaps between buildings. Rooftop to rooftop, ledge to ledge, it was all a playground for him. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling of such an amazing combination. A euphoric like adrenaline rush, A sense of imminent and quiet possible death as well as the feeling that he was completely one with himself. As though there was nowhere else he should be but here and now.

Feet hitting the nearby rooftop, a loud bang echoing. Swiftly his knee's bent, reflexively so. The next motions occurred as though they were choreographed by a master of human art. Force pushing him forward, legs flashing upward as his arms scooped in ward, the precision of a rain drop. Occurring in a complementive pair to all who would look onward at it. Both slow in mindset yet blurringly fast, segmented yet smooth. Quite the beautiful thing indeed, such simple acts with so much effect.

Rising quickly he would continue to dash, appearing as though he would fly off the edge of the building. A problem with that existed though, if he was to do such a thing, he would most certainly expire upon the firm cement below. No level of acrobatic ability, nor no demonstration of energy dispersion would save him from such a collision. Luckily this wasn't what he had in mind, not by a long shot.

Let's Do This

He would whisper to himself as he sped across the rooftop. Looking as though he was daring death itself to take him. Then, in but the hair of a second, he would leap. Body elegantly curving in a way akin to a feline, gliding through the air like a bullet. Arms would stretch outward, poised, tense, not hard, yet ready. Feet would quickly turn into inches, his fingertips nearing their goal, their one true purpose. Like the slow burning of a fuse, anticipation would drip forth from those who looked on. Then just as it began, it would all come to an end.

Digits gripping the ledging firmly, yet loosely, dispersing the energy, yet still in motion. The remainder of his body would be pulled in quickly and smoothly as his hands twisted the rest of him around. In one serene movement it was all pulled across the edge and pivoted to the other side. What would follow would be a series of drops from ledge to ledge, scaling the building downward, his body heading for the ground below. It would seem as though his rooftop excursion was down for now, this city held more within, his fun wouldn't be over for long.

Feet stomping against the ground as he let go three ledges up. A simple drop of fifteen feet would be all that separated him from the ever safe ground below. Safe didn't accurately describe it though, boring, nor yet still not good enough. Blasé, now that was the proper vocabulary to define such an environment. Never one to simply walk around, he would quickly break into a sprint yet again, his goal you wonder, anything fun.

New York was such a city that this wouldn't be the treasure hunt it seemed to be. Objects sprawled everywhere across the landscape, littering the very walking ground with toys for him to play with. One of the many promised lands of this haven was only several dozen feet away from where he currently stood. The last green place in the city.

Central park, a heavenly spot for your avid traceur. A canvas for the savants of this urban landscape. A fusion of both natural and unnatural objects that made for quite the dynamic excursion. The recent death of his anticipation would be rekindled yet again as he pushed harder and harder towards his destination. The feeling within him bubbling up more and more as though it was going to burst forth. Only mere steps away, the most boring steps he would take this day.

No time would be spent growing accustomed to the surroundings, not familiarization in the least. This simply wasn't his way, a compulsion within prevented this, prevented the flow from being disturbed. Slapping one hand down against a bench, a quick speed vault would be done, acceleration unhindered. Next a flip over a low lying cement garbage receptacle, a simple four feet of the ground. Like a dance being preformed, more manipulations of the surroundings would occur. The tricky thing with any environment though, was that it never stood still, not for a moment.

As quickly as he could move, a boy on a skateboard would dash in front of his direction. Whether this was simply a helpless accident or if more maligned intentions were the root didn't matter. What did matter, however, was that he now was thrown off his groove, his flow had been disturbed. Like a ripple in a water this would distort all that was occuring within and around him. Only one thing would save him at this point, luckily that was his greatest give, reactivity.

With but a moments notice he leapt into the air. Darting forward, his body sprawled in the air. A slight curve could be seen in his back as he cut smoothly. Something was wrong with it, however, disturbed within the core of the technique. Without suitable preparation for the technique, there was no way he could have preformed it successfully. This would show within his technique strongly.

Landing with a distinct sliding noise, his head down and back turned. Unlike the most flawless of techniques though he wouldn't be able to pull his shoulder in quick enough to disperse the energy. Instead he would roll quicker forward, this again would chain into the next motion of this flow. This is where this story becomes a two part sequence, where a singular live becomes disturbed and when the power to control where it all goes, is lost.

Standing up as quickly as he could, his body still retained energy from the dive. Shooting forward, he would collide with another. Luckily his attempts at dispersion had succeeded to some degree. Rather then rip into the man, sending them both soaring rather ungracefully into the ground, he would instead tautly bump into him. Two paths would diverge within the realm of his mind at this point. He could take off into the distance, both refullfilling his urge for the run, yet not only rudely dismiss his inadvertent attack on this man but also risk an altercation.

He was not this type of man, however and wouldn't simply leave after causing another damage, without good reason of course, he wasn't a fool. He would move to the other side of the man, his hand raised in a apologetic way.

Sorry Mate, didn't mean to bump yah. Minds wanderin off into the blue it seems. Hope I didn't hurt yah none.

He would wait for the man to respond before he gave his name. There was no telling what type of reaction was to be expected after such an incident. The most chivalrous of course being to accept his apology and hopefully they would go out for a drink. Then again, they say in America, chivalry's dead.

As the pigeon cooed happily in Sam’s direction it pecked the left over hotdog bun gratefully as Sam continued to watch the squabble that was coming from the two giants. One was playing it off as an accident as the other seemed a bit more aggressive and more willing to turn the accident into a fight. Contemplating what coarse of action he should take Sam continued to watch for a moment before the shorter of the two spoke with a British accent and the larger of the two mentioned something about his kind. So either the shorter of the two was a mutant or a human. Regardless of the situation Sam felt he needed to go play firefighter and try and drench the situation before it turned into an inferno.

Getting up and grabbing his water bottle Sam walked over to the pair which was only a few feet from him and then spoke,”Your kind?” Sam said allowed to the larger of the two, ”Hope your not discriminating towards someone simply because of an accident…” he knew he was interjecting into a conversation he didn’t belong but the larger of the two was looking for a fight and there was no need to open hostilities between mutant and humans.

”Sorry I didn’t mean to intrude or anything bug guy but he did apologize and I don’t think there is a reason to continue to try and start something.” Sam smiled and pointed to the hotdog vender who he just bought a hot dog from, ”Why don’t I treat you to a hot dog and forget all about this little accident?” if the giant agreed then Sam could strike up a friendly conversation about the importance of humans and mutants co-existing.