we'll inhale;

Hendrix #14 | dealer

[unif]

[sonichq]

When she was denied a stretching partner Trish rested on the back of her arms and looked at Sophie with a small pout. “You’re no fun to play with at all,” she said. “It’s more fun if we all help each other out, isn’t it?” Coach would be so proud of her. Bringing the team together, one sad story at a time.

Trish could see the emotions swirl inside the dealer as she tried to figure out what Trish’s game was. She probably didn’t realise that that was the part of the game Trish liked the most. Her comment almost made Trish snort out loud. “Damn, that’s weird,” Trish said with a wide grin as she watched Hendrix stretch. “Me too.” She kept on staring, not really caring about her own tired muscles. “You’re very easy to fluster, d’you know that?” she asked, small smirk playing on her lips. 

[sophendrix-blog]

“Great, now I don’t have to hide my hobby while we’re rooming together.” Did she believe that Trish was a killer? Only 50%. Honestly, you never knew with a group like this. Rolling her eyes, she plopped onto the ground, legs spread wide as she reached for the end of her left leg with her right hand, softly counting again. “Which is it? Am I easy to fluster or no fun?” That stung, a little. She wasn’t supposed to be easy to fluster; she was supposed to be okay, ya know, for a weirdo. She needed to gain some semblance of control over her reputation here and fast. 

Sophie reached for the other leg with her other arm, focusing her eyes on the task at hand instead of Trish. “You gonna get to work now or wait for your muscles to kill you later? ‘Cause I don’t wanna hear any whining about it when I warned you.” 

[noahsturner-blog]

As the other freshman copied his motion of bypassing defensemen, Noah resisted the urge to smile.  The familiarity of the drill motions, with someone on the other side sprinting down the court alongside him doing the same thing he was, felt almost comforting.  Even, of course, if he really didn’t know anything else about her, save for her name and her ability to interpret where he was passing.

Realizing that she seemed to be catching on, Noah took a risk with the next pass.  He popped the ball out of his racquet as if he had taken a hit, and rather than catch it again to re-position a throw, he slammed it to her side of the court.  It was more of a defensive maneuver, but one he had been trying to work on with his old team before he left, and he was curious what Sophie would do with it.  She seemed to have no problem reading motion, an admirable skill on the court.  Noah had a feeling it would be an advantage they should take full advantage of later on.

[sophendrix-blog]

Noah passed the ball in such an uneven manner it took Sophie a moment to register that it had slid practically under her. A moment was all she had to consider, though, because as she turned her head to check the ball behind her, it bounced just once, and likely would not keep bouncing enough for her to get a grip. Just run and shove it towards him. She ran while it was up in the air and, instead of catching it and throwing it again, she slammed the ball right after the next cone and hoped Jackson would be able to catch it in time. 

“That was...” Her voice trailed off, nose scrunched up slightly. “Was that on purpose or are you just...” Coming up with words while running was a bad idea, but what was even worse was the idea of not only using her instincts during a game but also completely thinking this out through. Annoying. “Or are you just bad?” That tone might not really get her anywhere, but at least it wasn’t her worst. And, well, if Jack was bad, it’d be best to know now. 

[sonichq]

Trish was silently happy that Hendrix didn’t want to keep going. She was exhausted! Not as if she was going to show it though. “Awesome,” she replied and dropped her stick carelessly. “Help me stretch?” That was all she said before she dropped to the ground and rolled over on her back. She grinned slightly at Hendrix where she was now towering over her. “I’ll return the favour of course.”

She raised her leg straight in the air and wiggled it slightly to see if Sophie would help. Even if the mood had lightened slightly while they had been practicing Trish couldn’t help but prod a little bit more. “So, wanna chit chat about our tragic pasts while cooling down?”

[sophendrix-blog]

“Uh.” Sophie ‘s eyes followed Trish’s movements. “You’re done already?” She squinted her eyes at the leg thrust up, and, well, it was a nice leg. And, well, normally she wouldn’t mind helping in such an instance (Sue her.), but normally, no one who ever asked also decided to start poking at her backstory. They usually didn’t care at all. 

“I’m sure if you were going to practice on your own you can help your own self stretch.” She replied, starting on her own stretches with her left arm bent behind her head, her right hand reaching back and holding onto her left elbow. “I’m here because I murdered a man.” After counting seconds in her head, she shifted to to work on the other arm. “What’d you do?”

[sonichq]

Hendix laughed. It was almost incredible, because everything about her screamed defense. Trish grinned, unfiltered by a helmet this time, and shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll have some pointers for me, after you’ve gotten used to the team. Or seen me play for real.” Still, she felt a little spark of pride, trailing down her spine. Hendrix thought she was good. For now.

“Besides, it’s not that you’re bad, you know. College level is just really fucking hard if you’re not prepared. Those extra seconds can really slow you down if you’re not one hundred percent sure were you’re aiming.” Realising she was going all Coach on her again Trish busied herself with wiping the sweat off her forehead. “Did you want to do anything else?” she asked finally.

[sophendrix-blog]

“I know I’m not bad.” Though, she hadn’t really been prepared for college level; college level wasn’t even a thought that had crossed her mind. While exy felt like it’s own brand of salvation (However dramatic a thought like that is), it was never part of the future. The future was empty, and Sophie had assumed that it would always be that way. 

“No.” She replied to Trish’s question, shrugging out a little, “Did you need me for something? I was thinking of cooling down.” Despite the advantages of practicing with someone else, Trish’s enthusiasm was a little a lot. Was the rest of the team going to be like that? 

[toodrunktofindaurl]

Are you a ‘take her gum’ wlw or a ‘pull her headphones’ wlw

[noahsturner-blog]

The next pass he threw, he aimed directly towards her. ·He didn’t trust his aim as much as his speed, and trying to get her to figure out how to use the walls without any prior exposure to the drill seemed like something in which he was way over his head. ·He wasn’t quite ready to aim so precisely that she would have no trouble figuring out what he was doing. ·

She seemed to have no trouble, however, interpreting where he was passing in regards to herself. ·She had almost caught the first pass intended for the wall before it had even reached the original target. ·Realizing this, he dodged around another cone before popping up and passing slightly high, as if twisting around a defenseman and passing over and around his shoulder. ·Her ability to interpret motion, he suspected, would make the catch a no-brainer.

[sophendrix-blog]

Alfred seemed to be imagining a certain scenario considering the way his next pass was aimed. He also seemed to be considering a change in plans, playing in a new style instead. That could just be reading into it too much, but the fact that his aim this time, while better suited in her direction, was still a little off, made her hold on to what little theory she had. Read the situation.

She watched the ball leave his racquet and sped up, taking three steps until she held her racquet stretched out in front of her. The ball sank right into the net, and Sophie’s head snapped up, eyes taking notice of the distance between her and the striker. He was faster than her, that was for sure; they could probably work around it though, maybe use it as a distraction. She picked up the pace, running just a few steps ahead as the next cone went past them, and then sent the ball flying slightly lower than normal, bending down and retreating a little as if bypassing a defenseman herself. 

[sonichq]

Trish was breathing heavily as the final ball landed right where it was supposed to and dropped her stick on the ground. She unclasped her helmet and let it land right next to it. Her hair was usually very lively but now the braids she put them in warm and flat against her head with sweat. When she looked over at her targets she couldn’t help but grin with pride. Apparently the pressure of proving herself to someone new made her up her game, because no cone was standing up.

She looked at Hendrix, who was looking at her expectantly, and Trish laughed quietly when she realised she was waiting for her to talk. “I’m not gonna tell you how to play, kid,” she told her and picked up her helmet, held under her arm, and stick, held in her hand. “This is all about reading the situation in front of you and making fast calculations. You might not have to pass the ball this quickly during the game, but you’ll be better if you can.” She looked over to the cones once more. “If you train you’ll be able to do this as well.”

[sophendrix-blog]

Sophie resented that, the I’m not gonna tell you how to play, kid, but in the moment it was going to take her to scowl in Trish’s direction, Trish seemed to eat her own words, continuing to offer advice, and Sophie’s face remained blank as she pretended to nod thoughtfully. Read the situation in front of you, be quick.....All standard stuff, but Sophie gave herself a few seconds to consider her own standpoint when it came to that. Fast calculations were simple....Reading the situation would take some time. Would it be harder now that she was on a university team?

The way Trish ended her short speech, like out of some weird tutorial, Practice everyday and you can get all the holes in golf, too! Sophie let out a snort that evolved into its own tiny laugh, quiet on its own but a little too much for the still morning. “Incredible.” It was all very incredible and maybe even surreal. “Work on my pacing, be a little faster, read the situation, get all the cones, got it. Don’t know if I  have any advice to offer you, though.” 

[noahsturner-blog]

He didn’t have too long to be amused by her second failure to guess his name.  As soon as she moved, he chased after her, racquet automatically coming up after a few years of conditioning with this drill and a ball to the face.  It was a good thing, too, because Sophie dodged around the first cone and whipped the ball towards him.  He fired it back towards her almost the moment he received it, dodging a cone and rebounding it off the wall to do so.

One of the tricks to this drill, he had figured out, was to use the walls to anticipate your partner’s position.  Unfortunately, he had never worked with Sophie before, and just as the ball left his net, he realized that he had no way of knowing whether or not his judgement would be sound.  All he could do was hope she was smart enough to realize he was aiming for the wall and not her, and to anticipate where the ball would land when it rebounded.

[sophendrix-blog]

Sophie saw the ball coming towards her, but, just as she was raising her racquet to catch it, the ball went straight past her and into the wall. She barely gave herself time to blink in confusion; instead, she turned to the side, extending her arm to catch the ball as it bounced right off the wall and into the net of her racquet while still running. She whirled in the striker’s direction just as they passed the next cone and sent the ball flying straight to him.

She raised her eyebrows in question; had is aim been that bad? If this were a real match and the players between them were an actual issue, she would understand, but this was just practice. She spared a glance at the wall as she continued running, calling out a, “Careful, Demitri.” He should get the next one, but if he didn’t then she’d just have to figure out whatever stunt he was pulling.

[sonichq]

Trish flashed a smile, endorphins rushing through her body. The feeling always made her jumpy, on edge, and the reason of probably two thirds of her red cards. Hopefully Hendrix read the smile as excited instead of hostile. Of course, little girl her mind supplied, let’s dance for your amusement. But all she said was, “Let’s see, shall we?” She backed away from the half court line so that she was standing between half court and far court. 

Trish didn’t know why she was being so intent on being helpful. She just knew that the girl wasn’t here because she wanted to run away from something. Maybe that was part of it, but mostly she was running to something. It was obvious in the way she furiously had been training before Trish arrived, and her disappointment when she hadn’t been able to hit all the cones in the rapid pace Trish had demanded. She’d be disappointed in Trish when she realised she only played it as some sort of security blanket so that her anger wouldn’t bleed through in her daily life. Trish didn’t aim to be great so she could be someone. But Hendrix did. The only thing Trish could do was let her. “Ok, I’m ready,” she said and raised her stick. She’d show her that even though she didn’t hold half the ambition Hendrix did, she still damn well could play.

[sophendrix-blog]

Sophie had assumed Trish would say something like this isn’t a game (Even though it was) or something else upperclassmen-ish. She didn’t give herself much time to think about the fact that she rose up to the challenge or whatever that entailed. It’s was time for practice, practice, practice, and having a one-track mind sometimes was better for her health. (Unlike digging into things that meant nothing.)

So, she called out numbers in rapid succession, maybe expecting something cool, maybe just trying to focus her energy on not being tired because of the early hour. She watched for Trish’s aim, the speed of her reactions, both registering the number and attacking. She stopped called numbers after around the twentieth one, eyebrows raised as she waited for another piece of wisdom, wondering if that might become a thing. 

[noahsturner-blog]

Sheldon?  Shaking his head a bit to focus on what was important, Noah nodded and absently picked at the netting on his stick.  After a moment, he reached for a stack of cones and set down the stick, switching them out and heading onto the court to set up a drill he had learned in the Coleman’s backyard when he was first learning the game.  Coach needed to train him as a striker, and he needed to learn how to use his agility.  The drill he had in mind was a perfect mix of both.

Once she reemerged from the changing rooms, he beckoned her closer to the mess of cones set across the court.  He had to pause for a moment to get his thoughts in order, and mentally chose each word he would say to phrase them in the way she would best understand what he wanted to try.  “Dodge,” he murmured, pointing to each of the cones, following it with another quiet instruction along the lines of, “Sprint,” and a point towards the goal.  “Pass…” he considered for a moment.  When he and Coach Coleman had first done the drill, it was to determine how much he could do at once, with no obvious end (no goals in the backyard, after all).  “Lots,” he finally decided on, wincing a bit at the vagueness and praying she understood.

Start at the far line.  Dodge each cone as if they were the defense - don’t pass through them, but pass as soon as you bypass them.  Get rid of the ball as quickly as you receive it.  Get to the goal.  Score.  Coach Coleman’s voice still rang through his head, and he worried for the day it would be replaced with his newest Coach’s instructions.

[sophendrix-blog]

Sophie took a few steps closer to the striker, raised an eyebrow as she realized she wasn’t missing bits of his sentences, but that he was merely saying separate words, and repeated his instructions a few times in her head to try to grasp what he was saying. She eyed the cones, imagined what she assumed he had in mind, mumbled a quiet “Lots.” to herself. She shrugged, tapped her fingers against her racquet in a quick, aimless beat. “Yeah, okay. I can work with that. We just pass between the cones, right?” 

Picking up a ball to put into her racquet’s net, she gave the striker a once over, bouncing the racquet just a little and catching the ball within its net again. “You ready for this, Jake?” Maybe one of the names she used would stick at some point. Would he let her know though? He didn’t seem one for much talk, or maybe that was just because he was tired. She got into stance and waited for him to do so also before she could start her sprint, racquet in position.

[noahsturner-blog]

The girl’s voice had him jumping nearly a foot into the air, stick raised in protection.  Once he realized who had spoken, though, he calmed down, scuffing a foot against the ground in embarrassment.  He may not have recognized her immediately, but Noah made an effort to never forget names, in case he needed to remember them later.  Sophie, Coach had introduced her as.

Almost apologetically, he shook his head.  “Striker,” he elaborated, voice carrying a little more than it usually would in the still air.  Definitely not a goalie.  If he really was as ghostly as people thought he was, balls would just pass through him.  Which, of course, defeated the purpose of the position.  A striker, though, could sneak through a defensive line nearly unnoticed and shoot just before backing off again, a style of play he was much more comfortable with.  He hesitated, struggling to remember her position.  Noah had been thinking he would practice alone, but if she wanted to share the court, he wasn’t going to stop her.

[sophendrix-blog]

Sophie raised an amused eyebrow at his stance. Striker, huh. Didn’t really matter; she needed to get used to all the players anyways. They could work on passes, or she could try a hand at her defensive skills. No practice could hurt. She pointed a thumb in her direction, said, “Dealer.” Before she started in the direction of the changing rooms. She paused midway, turned on her heel to look at her teammate...”Give me a moment to change, okay, Sheldon? Then we can come and decide on practice.” 

Minutes later and she was back and in her gear, the school’s racquet close enough to becoming familiar in her grasp. She came to a halt right in front of...The striker. “You know what we should do? Timed passes. We need to be able to move the ball back and forth as quick as possible without dropping it.” He might’ve already known that, but with the quality of this team nothing was out of the realm of possibility. 

[noahsturner-blog]

It was fairly late at night when Noah decided he had avoided practicing long enough. He had avoided the actual court for quite a while, and it was time to actually make sure he remembered his to hold a stick. Plus, this late at night, the chances of anyone else being there were slim to none. An added bonus.

Throwing on some practice clothes, Noah quickly made his way to the court, and found his stick waiting for him in the locker Coach had assigned him the week before. The weight of it was more than comforting, even if it was a lightweight stick. It had stayed with him since he had borrowed it from Coach Coleman four years ago, and had come with him to Palmetto when the man had insisted he had earned it. Making his way out to the dark, silent court with it, he realized that it was the only familiar thing here. It was a sobering thought that would have stayed with him a lot longer had he not caught a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye and whirled around in sudden fear, wheeling back and away.

[sophendrix-blog]

To be fair, Sophie hadn’t been meaning to end up at court in the middle of the night. Sure, that was where she’d spent most of her verging on two weeks here, but this was really the final destination of her little walk. Restlessness was not something new to Sophie, especially not here with nothing but exy to keep her occupied, so she’d taken to getting up when the need to do something got too bad and exploring campus. There wasn’t much to see at this late hour, so Sophie wound up making the almost familiar route to the court. Maybe the simple air of it would help her get a grip.

So, she unlocked the door, made her way inside and in to the court, eyes squinting in annoyance at the orange of the stadium, unbearable even without any sunlight to really make it pop out. She inhaled, waited for something to happen. Maybe she’d fall asleep here? The thought was quickly discarded when she took note of a figure moving away from her...How reassuring. She squinted in its direction before her eyes widened just slightly, “Hey you!” She called, vague recognition settling in her. Forget air; this was an opportunity. “You here to practice? I could really use a....goalie?” Maybe she should’ve paid more attention to Coach’s introductions. 

[sonichq]

“Longer than fifteen minutes is not forty five,” Trish reminded her, mostly to get the point across. “You’ll get used to the routines in no time though. The pacing is different, you can’t use up all your energy at once.” Why was she lecturing, even teaching, Hendrix this anyway? Coach would set them all straight once practice started and there was no need for Trish to do any of it. She had to admit that she had a bit of a soft spot for any girl entering the team so that might be why. They had to fight twice as hard to be respected, even though the sport always had been open for women.

At the mention of a warm up Trish nodded, mostly to herself, and removed the helmet. “You stretch and I warm up,” she said and began her first lap around the court. She continued with some quick warm ups before putting on the helmet once more and grabbing her stick. “Ready,” she said, determined to hit them all this time.

[sophendrix-blog]

Sophie cataloged Trish’s advice in the back of her mind where it’d be there when she actually needed it. It felt completely off that she was here, teaching her drills, giving her tips; the image that Sophie had built in her head of the Foxes was far from helpful albeit weird. Still, this was her first meeting with anyone but the other freshman on the team, so Sophie wasn’t going to part with her suspicions right away. 

She  went through her stretches, making sure nothing hurt more than it should. By the time Trish was done, Sophie had taken to leaning against the glass of the court, eyes trailing after her for a few minutes until she got bored and returned to tapping against her racquet. She straightened up, rolled her shoulders back, and started counting down from ten, stopping in the middle to add a misplaced number. In between two sets of number, she said, “Can you do it from farther away?” She could admit to wanting to amuse herself just a little, satisfy her curiosity regarding how much Trish could do. “Like, very far away?” 

[sonichq]

Trish grinned, she really couldn’t help it, but fortunately it was covered by the helmet this time. “Damn, I almost had it. Should’ve warmed up a bit.” Hendrix’s remark rolled off her back as if she hadn’t even heard it and waited for her to place the cones in their spots.

She looked at Sophie, saw that she probably was running on fumes by now, and wondered if she had any more fight in her. “How long have you been practicing today?” she asked. “You’re not crashing before first practice are you?” They really couldn’t afford for one of their dealers to be out of the game before it had even started.

“I know you probably come from a bigger team where you can afford to give it your all for fifteen minutes, but that’s not going to work here,” she said as she took position in front of the cones. “You need to preserve your strength.”

[sophendrix-blog]

“....A while.” To be fair, Sophie wasn’t even sure what time it was right now. She knows it’s been a bit; she couldn’t help feeling restless, and so practice was good for keeping her not only ready for the real training but also busy doing something other than pacing the length of the room. ...Maybe she needed to go out more. “I won’t crash.”

“And I’ve had to stay longer than fifteen minutes.” By virtue of being good, and the fact that her school’s team hadn’t been that big in the first place; not many had been into the aggression that exy provided. Trish hadn’t felt like she was trying to get at something negative, so Sophie shrugged, put her hands on her hips. “I’ll work on pacing myself.” She offered. “There’s only one other dealer right?” 

She started to call out a number, “Sev-” and stopped, narrowing her eyes for a second. “Warm up first.” Maybe she’d get them all if she was ready for them.

[sonichq]

She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Trish tried to hide it, but this girl amused her. Hendrix was so focused on the game, so immersed in it that for those brief seconds there was only her and the game laid out in front of her. Trish could see that she wanted to impress. Not her necessarily, but someone. She wanted to be the best and it was pissing her off that she didn’t preform.

“No, I’ll play,” Trish said and picked up her stick from where she’d left it on the floor. Once more she walked over to the cones to put them back up. She’d spent all summer doing drills whenever she could, sometimes with Dean and sometimes alone.

She took her place and cast a glance at Hendrix. “Whenever you’re ready,” Trish told her and the minute the numbers entered her head she moved. There was no time to think, she simply let the balls hit where they were supposed to and didn’t take the time to see if they did. When it was over only one cone was left standing.

[sophendrix-blog]

Sophie bit the inside of her cheek, squinted her eyes, and then relaxed her expression before Trish could get a look. She seemed to have a...different type of focus from Sophie’s, something she couldn’t quite understand, at least not from the first time seeing it. She felt a stab of jealousy at the near perfect exercise, but she shook it off. 

“Mmmm.” She tilted her head to the side, eyed the fallen cones and then looked at Trish, “Guess that makes you worth the hype, huh?” She paused a moment, decided against saying anything else, and then started to pick up the cones off the ground.

“How long are you staying here for?” Did she have other practice she was planning on doing? Sophie had to admit to being exhausted from the first round of practice, didn’t know if she actually should continue as she had been planning to. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t watch.

[sonichq]

It wasn’t surprising that Hendrix couldn’t hit them all at the pace Trish had given her. She was probably used to practicing in her own pace, especially during the summer. While giving Hendrix time to rest she walked over to the cones and set them up once more. Hendrix was still staring at the cones mumbling something to herself, before demanding to go one more time. With Trish’s luck she’d break her before lunch. But she couldn’t help but grin when she heard the determination in her voice that told her she wasn’t about to give up. Trish was sure Hendrix would hate her by the time training was over.

“You got it,” she said before counting one more time. The pacing was the same as last time because she had a feeling that Hendrix would tell her off if she took it easy. Trish had to remind herself to not let the girl go too hard and wear herself out before first practice. If that happened coach would definitely kill her.

[sophendrix-blog]

Doing drills like this, just the two of them, was definitely a new experience. Back there, if the drills weren’t being done together as a team, then they were only explained by her old coach, left to figure the rest out herself because she had other business to attend to that didn’t involve teenagers bent on destroying themselves via sport. Here, Sophie wasn’t surrounded by talking, panting students to keep her out of her mind, but she also wasn’t able to feel the rush of running, of hitting goals, ofexy completely taking over when there was someone else to share what was happening. She wasn’t sure she found it pleasant.

By the time the second round was up, Sophie registered too much sweat, her lungs giving her the harsh reminder of their need for oxygen, and the fact that she didn’t score a single point higher than the last time.

She turned to look at Trish, racquet held to the side as if that would somehow push away theirrational disappointment. “My turn?” She asked between breaths. Why had she gone so hard just after her own practice? “Or do backliners not do this?” Maybe if she was the one giving out orders, she could grasp the drill better. (Or maybe she just didn’t like the fact that Trish seemed a little too happy just standing there, but that wasn’t important.)