young grasshopper
Smash Ace
Hi, I've been thinking up fiction as long as I can remember, but rarely have I ever done anything with my ideas. I have finally mustered the discipline to actually start writing down one of my stories. This is still a WIP and I am open to any criticism or advice. Please let me know what ya'll think
The city of Hagiazo, California is to the West Coast what New York City is to the East. It is a bustling metropolis, filled with hundreds upon thousands of people minding their own business. Like any major city, it is a center of commerce, art, and corruption. The few Christians who live here must stand firm in their faith; the city frowns upon them, thinking they oppose the norm for no reason. This truly is a city of hot and cold, to stand in the middle is to fall.
Daniel Becks was an interesting boy. Though short for a 14-year-old boy, he possessed a refined strength that could be expected from one several years older than himself. His messy black hair fell about either side of his face, framing his features. His grey eyes had a curious, thoughtful look to them, as if a million mysteries were being pondered just behind those dark pupils.
Daniel was spending his time how he usually spent it: drawing. He found it easier to think while drawing. It focused his mind to a fine point, filtering out distractions. Every stroke representing an idea, flowing from place to place in a synchronized harmony. At the moment, Daniel was attempting to illustrate a complicated fighting technique that could quickly down an off-balance opponent. He loved to fight. He loved the nearly infinite possibilities, the attacks, defenses, and counters. One inch could make the difference between success and failure in a fight, and that sense of being on the edge was what he loved most
"You don't to be late on the first day!" Jack's voice called from somewhere below. How long had Daniel been lost in thought? He wasn't sure. He jumped down from the makeshift loft where he had been sitting and landed nimbly on his feet. On the far side of the room, where a kitchen of sorts was put together, his older brother, Jack, was double checking the bags, and Ben, Daniel's twin, was eating a last-minute piece of toast in the area of the room that had been set aside as a kitchen. At one look, an unspoken challenge passed between the twins: Reyntop High was only a few blocks away, running distance, and one of them would get there before the other.
****************************************
Ben was out of breath. He had beaten his twin to the school by mere milliseconds. Things didn't come as naturally to him as they did to Daniel, but he worked hard to keep up. The two were opposite in as many ways as they were equal. Daniel had greasy black hair, dark grey eyes, and a hooked nose; Ben had curly blond hair, vivid blue eyes, and a slightly upturned nose. Daniel was short and compact; Ben was tall and lanky. Daniel was calculated; Ben was abstract. Daniel was a fighter, and while Ben enjoyed fighting and competition, he was a peacemaker at heart.
"What's for first period?" Ben asked his brother. Daniel rummaged through his backpack for the schedule. "Gym. Fine by me." Good Ben thought. He would be able to make a strong first-impression. While not a prodigy himself, he did train with one every day, and that's the second-best thing.
They entered the gym a moment before the bell rang. Looking around the room, Ben noticed that the most athletically fit guys were huddled around the gym teacher, and one of them-with his dark brown hair, toothy grin, and square jaw-looked like a younger version of the coach. The favoritism as thick as the equally noticeable stench of gym socks. The coach's voice was booming without even needing a megaphone, "Alright, fresh meat-I mean, freshmen, I'm Coach Blake Davis. Welcome to the first day of school. Let's start with a little game of dodge-ball." Ben noticed a sort of hunger to his voice, as if he were thinking of something that would bring him great pleasure. "Freshmen and sophomores versus juniors and seniors, may the fittest survive!"
****************************************
"He did the same thing last year. It was brutal: I was black and blue my whole first week," said a girl to Daniel's right. She must have toughened up since then, it was obvious to Daniel that she possessed clear signs of athleticism. She was wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. Her crimson hair was cut short and choppy. Her light blue eyes stood out against her copper skin and had a sharpness to them. Both her arms and her legs had finely etched muscles.
"Hi, I'm Camelot Richards," the girl said as she stretched out her hand. Daniel noticed her firm grip as he shook her hand.
"Hi, I'm Daniel Becks, nice to meet you,"
"nice to meet you, too. Try not to get pelted to badly, it's seriously hard to study while recovering from a concussion!"
"Thanks for the tip, but I don't plan on getting pelted at all," said Daniel as the whistle blew, and chaos erupted. The juniors and seniors had already gotten a hold of the dodge-balls in the center of the court. Daniel's brain flew into combat mode, this was what he was best at. His eyes analyzed every detail. The mini-coach sent a ball rocketing towards him, too fast to catch, but Daniel saw it coming and sidestepped promptly. In his peripheral vision, he spied a stray ball rolling in his direction. He stooped low and flung it as hard as he could. The red sphere hit its mark and a senior was eliminated, caught off guard by Daniel's speed and accuracy. As the game went on, teens on both sides continued to get pelted, but the freshmen and sophomores were being taken out at a faster rate than the juniors and seniors. Eventually, it came down to Daniel, Ben, Camelot, and fifteen seniors surrounding the trio.
Daniel was spending his time how he usually spent it: drawing. He found it easier to think while drawing. It focused his mind to a fine point, filtering out distractions. Every stroke representing an idea, flowing from place to place in a synchronized harmony. At the moment, Daniel was attempting to illustrate a complicated fighting technique that could quickly down an off-balance opponent. He loved to fight. He loved the nearly infinite possibilities, the attacks, defenses, and counters. One inch could make the difference between success and failure in a fight, and that sense of being on the edge was what he loved most
"You don't to be late on the first day!" Jack's voice called from somewhere below. How long had Daniel been lost in thought? He wasn't sure. He jumped down from the makeshift loft where he had been sitting and landed nimbly on his feet. On the far side of the room, where a kitchen of sorts was put together, his older brother, Jack, was double checking the bags, and Ben, Daniel's twin, was eating a last-minute piece of toast in the area of the room that had been set aside as a kitchen. At one look, an unspoken challenge passed between the twins: Reyntop High was only a few blocks away, running distance, and one of them would get there before the other.
****************************************
Ben was out of breath. He had beaten his twin to the school by mere milliseconds. Things didn't come as naturally to him as they did to Daniel, but he worked hard to keep up. The two were opposite in as many ways as they were equal. Daniel had greasy black hair, dark grey eyes, and a hooked nose; Ben had curly blond hair, vivid blue eyes, and a slightly upturned nose. Daniel was short and compact; Ben was tall and lanky. Daniel was calculated; Ben was abstract. Daniel was a fighter, and while Ben enjoyed fighting and competition, he was a peacemaker at heart.
"What's for first period?" Ben asked his brother. Daniel rummaged through his backpack for the schedule. "Gym. Fine by me." Good Ben thought. He would be able to make a strong first-impression. While not a prodigy himself, he did train with one every day, and that's the second-best thing.
They entered the gym a moment before the bell rang. Looking around the room, Ben noticed that the most athletically fit guys were huddled around the gym teacher, and one of them-with his dark brown hair, toothy grin, and square jaw-looked like a younger version of the coach. The favoritism as thick as the equally noticeable stench of gym socks. The coach's voice was booming without even needing a megaphone, "Alright, fresh meat-I mean, freshmen, I'm Coach Blake Davis. Welcome to the first day of school. Let's start with a little game of dodge-ball." Ben noticed a sort of hunger to his voice, as if he were thinking of something that would bring him great pleasure. "Freshmen and sophomores versus juniors and seniors, may the fittest survive!"
****************************************
"He did the same thing last year. It was brutal: I was black and blue my whole first week," said a girl to Daniel's right. She must have toughened up since then, it was obvious to Daniel that she possessed clear signs of athleticism. She was wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. Her crimson hair was cut short and choppy. Her light blue eyes stood out against her copper skin and had a sharpness to them. Both her arms and her legs had finely etched muscles.
"Hi, I'm Camelot Richards," the girl said as she stretched out her hand. Daniel noticed her firm grip as he shook her hand.
"Hi, I'm Daniel Becks, nice to meet you,"
"nice to meet you, too. Try not to get pelted to badly, it's seriously hard to study while recovering from a concussion!"
"Thanks for the tip, but I don't plan on getting pelted at all," said Daniel as the whistle blew, and chaos erupted. The juniors and seniors had already gotten a hold of the dodge-balls in the center of the court. Daniel's brain flew into combat mode, this was what he was best at. His eyes analyzed every detail. The mini-coach sent a ball rocketing towards him, too fast to catch, but Daniel saw it coming and sidestepped promptly. In his peripheral vision, he spied a stray ball rolling in his direction. He stooped low and flung it as hard as he could. The red sphere hit its mark and a senior was eliminated, caught off guard by Daniel's speed and accuracy. As the game went on, teens on both sides continued to get pelted, but the freshmen and sophomores were being taken out at a faster rate than the juniors and seniors. Eventually, it came down to Daniel, Ben, Camelot, and fifteen seniors surrounding the trio.