Lost on a run to nowhere (OPEN)

[robintryst]

"You've been at it for hours, Dan, don't you ever go home?" Ducking before Daniel could land a left hook on his grinning face, his sparring partner snickered slightly. Grinning back, Daniel tried two more times unsuccessfully to land a punch, before crouching low and sweeping his opponent's feet out from under him.

"Nope," he said, pushing his partner back down with his foot when he attempted to stand up. 

"Heh, that's what I thought." Extending a hand, the younger brunette helped his partner to his feet, ending their spar in an uncharacteristically civil manner for a District One Tribute-in-Training. Daniel wasn't really the excessively violent type. Once he'd won, he'd won. No reason to beat the tar out of someone while they were down. This, of course, was not a popular opinion in his district. "A lean, mean, fighting machine, eh Danny?"

"Hah...don't call me Danny." After a bit of good-natured banter, the boys parted ways, and for the first time in ages, Daniel glanced at a clock. Seven PM. He had been at this for hours. It hadn't been a particularly good workout, though, and he didn't feel as sore as he knew he should have. His head was mostly in the clouds today, and as a result, he hadn't truly focused on any one task. Sighing, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and decided enough was enough for one day. If he hadn't been able to focus all day, he wasn't magically going to be able to now.

"Mom'll be mad I was out later than I said I would be," he mumbled to himself, as he gathered his gym bag out of his locker after a quick shower. It was true, his mother would be miffed, but his father wouldn't be. He always liked to see Daniel taking his training more seriously, and Daniel knew he wouldn't get in trouble for losing track of time. That thought wasn't exactly comforting, though. Pressing his palms against his eyes briefly, he threw on his post-workout clothes, and slung his bag strap over his shoulder. He might as well get going.

Pushing against the tall glass doors of the gym, Daniel lazily made his way down the front steps, coming to a halt once he hit the sidewalk out front. His house was only a few blocks east of here. But there was something, and he didn't exactly know what it was, telling him to stay out a little later. Take a run, a walk, anything. It wasn't like he was dreading going home; there was no reason for him to not want to return to his house. He and his brothers weren't fighting, his dad was actually pleased with him for the first time in his life, and his mom was making his favorite meal for dinner. On all accounts, he should have been hurrying home. 

But he wasn't. 

Turning west, with his bag still slung over one shoulder, messenger-style, he started off walking. No where in particular, really. His walk soon turned quicker in pace, until he was jogging. But that grew boring too, and before long, Daniel was all-out running. No destination, no direction. Just a run for the sake of a run. Running was good for you, anyway. 

The sun was nearly setting by the time he slowed down to take a bit of a breather. At this point, he'd taken one too many random turns to know exactly where he was, but he was sure it couldn't have been too far. Checking his watch, he's only been running thirty minutes. Looking around, he wondered if anything around him looked familiar.

It was the outskirts of an unknown neighborhood, where houses dropped off to unincorporated woodland, before the fence cut them off to the outside world. He could hear the buzz of the electricity running through the fence from where he stood. 'Damn,' he thought, trying to remember how far his house was from the edge, 'I ran further than I expected...' Pausing a moment to contemplate his predicament, he just shrugged, and began to wander back in the general direction he came from. This just gave him more of an excuse to stay out later, he thought. And besides; one tended to meet new people in new places, and wasn't that what Daniel was all about?

[Death Do Ones Part]

A R I A C H A S E D I S T R I C T 1

W H A T ' S W R O N G W I T H M E ? I sat on the roof, just looking out into the woodlike place, at the edge of a neighborhood, far from home. I instincivly though, jumped into a crouch as I heard fast footsteps and heavy breathing, and spotted a boy far off running towards the edge of the neighborhood. This neighborhood wasn't for the big and good careers like the kind this boy looked like. This is the bad neighborhood, although it's abandoned and no one lives here anymore. I'd sometimes stay the night here, I would do anything if it means I could get out of my house. But that would usually cause a burden for my brother, for my parents, who's view is overprotective, would send him out looking for me. I'm not sure if that means they care or if they just want another slave running around the house. I wasn't even allowed to train as a career which pissed me off. My brother, being a boy, was forced to do career training. Although he'd rather be strumming his guitar and making strange tunes. I'd do anything, give anything to switch places. I watched the muscles flex on his back, the power of his legs push him forward, ah the result of career training and practicing. But I frowned, did this boy have a destination in mind? Why is he here? The last person to come to this neighborhood that wasn't my brother came to kill me sent by god knows who. Looking at his face shown that he was questioning something, doing something, but I couldn't read anything from his face because there was nothing to read. I took my knife from inside my boot and unseathed it, I may not be the most skilled due to the lack of career training but at least I can fight and defend myself, which was forced upon me when I was raped. I'd sneak into the career training sessions and watch from the windows, and practice myself on the roof. Although, it was poor, it was something. At least, one thing I didn't have to be taught was climbing, which I learned as a little girl because of my love for hieghts, which my parents immediately disapproved. "Why are you here?" I said and hid behind a chimney, I said it loud enough so he could hear me, and I prayed he didn't see me, which was probably true, that he didn't see me, the light was coming from the other side of the chimney, casting a shadow onto my side. "Who are you? People don't come down to this end of town without a reason. Usually, it's a bad one. Drug dealings, murders, oh the likes." It was a bad habit, yes I was shy but I tended to overtalk. An extroverted introvert you could say. I hated people, I hated large crowds.