Hoop Shooter [INVITE] Mar 23, 2021 9:30:13 GMT -5
Post by Terryn Yaki on Mar 23, 2021 9:30:13 GMT -5
South City was a nice getaway when the cold of the North got to you. Once you got used to the bitter winds and the slippery sidewalks it was manageable, but every now and again you'd simply get this irresistible need to feel some warmth and sunshine.
And so, that's exactly what Terryn did. He'd been in South City for a few days now, staying over at a relative's house so he could enjoy the sun at his own leisure. Today was another one of those tropical, sunny days where the streets were busy and the smell of everlasting summer hung in the air.
His shoes skidded against the concrete beneath him as the distinct sound of a ball bouncing against the ground echoed out across the court. Sweat dripped from his forehead as Terryn jumped high and lobbed another shot toward the basket hoop. The ball crashed against the inner ring of the hoop and spun alongside it, before promptly tossing itself out again.
'Damn,' Terryn cussed inside of his own head. With a click of his tongue, he jogged up to the ball and wrapped it under his arm. He let out a sigh, briefly taking off his headphones that were blasting some electronic tunes into his eardrums. The Earthling looked up at the sun that beamed down on him, a moment of silence passing through his head. His head felt a bit woozy from the heat.
Terryn idly dribbled as he walked toward a nearby bench where he'd set down his backpack. He fell down onto the seat and tore open his bag, pulling out a can of ice-cold Hetap. Clicking open the can, Terryn took a few hearty chugs of his drink before sighing out in relief.
He could hear birds tweet and chirp as cars zipped past. The distant noise of his music blasting out of his headphones just barely reached his ears, and it was then that Terryn realized that he was hopelessly bored. Sure, it was nice to be out and about, but sitting on this basketball court all by himself made him feel a tad lonely.
''Whatever,'' Terryn said to himself, kicking up his ball into his own hands. Maybe he'd send Alva a text, see what she was up to.
Eyes glancing toward the hoop, Terryn took the shot all the way from the sidelines with an absentminded lob. It'd probably miss, knowing his luck.
Terryn's PL: 5,000