Fun with a couple...balls?

She looked to the outfield, the smell of freshly cut grass wafting it's way to her.  A sigh escaped her lips as she rubbed the leather of old baseball against the bandaid on her neck.  Why did those things have to itch so much, the whole point of the bandaid was supposed to take attention away from it, but the way she itched it, it felt like people were always looking at it.  She was still pissed she had to take care of that stupid bear with that fake ass guy who she nearly swooned for, what a fucking idiot.  He's sure as hell lucky I don't have a bat of my own. She happened to go for a walk and peeked into the dugout.  The aluminum bat was just a tad bit too big for her form and physique, but she tapped it against home plate anyways.  The matte red stick knocked dirt off of a home-plate which seemed like it hadn't seen much use in months.  She flipped the bat around with her wrist as he held the baseball in her left hand, loosening her neck as she put the bat on her shoulder and let a sigh escape her lips.

It was a beautiful day, clear blue skies and a nice breeze kept the weather mild.  Perfect day to just go out and do...something.  She hadn't picked up a bat in a year and she knew that it would be more of a hassle to try to bring it with her on the plane so she didn't bother, but now here she was, lucky to find one with something to hit lying around...either this school was too rich or the kids were.  Either way there was free equipment and it was too good of a chance to pass up, so she scaled the fence and enjoyed a couple practice swings before she stepped up to home plate and looked out to the baseless field.  She let one more breath out before she set her stance.

A couple small tosses into the air and she gave it on good lob straight up, putting both hands to the bat and loading up.  A small step forward and she swung with power, a pleasant ringing sound emitting after contact, sending a line drive right over second base and midway through centerfield, before gradually dropping and rolling it's way up to the fence, stopping completely as it lightly tapped the old wood which could've used a new coat of paint.  She smiled as she followed it's flight, putting the top of the bat on the ground, leaning on it slightly and moving her brown hair from her face.  This was the life, a bat in hand and dirt under her Converse.  She set the bat down on top of home plate as she strolled back into the dugout to retrieve a second ball, whistling an Aerosmith song to herself, not a care in the world.

Samuel was already bored at Beata. What exactly was he doing here again? Oh, that's right, so he could "learn to control his power better." As if. He already had a good control and a decent amount of power. But his parents had already sent his younger siblings here, so he had been sent as well. He wandered the campus, looking for anything interesting to do when he found the baseball diamond. He watched as a girl hit a ball from home plate all the way to the fence. "Nice hit." he said, reaching the dugout she had been in.

Sloane flinched at the sudden voice, that guy was quiet.  She turned her head at first, bending over and grabbing a baseball from the dugout, turning back to him, tossing it up and down idly in her right hand.  She put her other hand on her hip raising an eyebrow as she sized up the guy before her with a quick up and down of her hazel eyes.  He didn't seem too bad, even if he stood with an aura of pretentiousness.    She tossed the ball up once more before saying "Yeah?  Thanks, used to get a bit of practice."  She walked past him, looking over her shoulder as she returned to home-plate.  As her feet cracked the dry dirt beneath her feet she grabbed the barrel end of the bat, flipping it with her fingers and catching it by the grip.

She tilted her head as she looked at the boy a few inches taller than her.  She shrugged as he she gestured to him with her chin, calling out with her distinct Pittsburghese accent "Can ya throw?"  She wouldn't really know if she didn't try and decided the best course was just being straight up, she came out here to hit some balls and it would be a lot easier to have a pitcher or Hell, just a shag to toss the hits back.  She tapped the bat against the ground, tossing the ball up and down absentmindedly, the two actions working in a kind of rhythm.

The Winter shrugged. "I haven't played baseball since middle school, I'll probably be a little rusty. Summer baseball leagues were never really long, either." he replied. He leaned over the short wall of the dugout and grabbed a glove that happened to be lying there. "How convenient that there's a glove just sitting here. Rich kids, I swear, just leaving everything lying around." he said sarcastically. He headed over to the field and took up the pitcher's mound. "Toss me the ball and we can get started."

Sloane smiled, at least he was somewhat experienced with a sport, a lot of students here could be real recluses or yuppies.  So it was rich kids, of course, as if she hadn't seen enough snobs in the suburb she lived in, she had to deal with stuck-up people with actual money.  She shook her head as she looked up to him, calling out "Sure, hope your catchin' skill ain't too rusty!" She hadn't thrown in forever, but it was probably gonna hit its intended target.  She turned her body slightly as she made the characteristic "L" shape with her arm as she threw it, following through with a small breath as the ball glided from her fingers.  It would be little high as it hurtled towards the boy.  Sloane was assured he would catch it and stepped just outside the box as she waited for this guy to set himself up.  She tapped her foot on the ground as she swung the bat around with her wrist in a small circle.

Sam reached his gloved hand up and almost lazily caught the ball. He was a pitcher in middle school, he was used to catching balls that went above his head. Catching was the easy part, once you know how to do it well, you never forget. Throwing good pitches, however, was a different story. He took a few moments to get his bearings of the field before getting ready to throw the ball. He went into his windup, and released the ball. It wasn't as fast as he could've thrown, and it was also way outside, barely giving Sloane the ability to hit it.

Sloane loosened her neck as she stepped into the batter's box.  She set her feet, offering a small smile as she held the bat out right over the plate, getting her grip right before pulling the bat back into a comfortable position over her shoulder and waiting for the guy to set himself up.  She saw him beginning to wind up, relaxing slightly.  He looked a bit rusty, the whole thing seemed kind of sloppy and forced.  

Once the ball came from his hand it was slower than she thought it would be, it sort of gliding across the air.  With the speed she had time to gauge it's distance and it was way too far outside of the strike zone to even attempt to swing at it.  Her body still instinctively loaded as it went sailing by.  She relaxed, stepping out of the box and looking towards the boy on the mound, a small smile on her face as she moved hair off of her forehead,  "I don't even think tha catcher coulda painted that one for ya, slugger!" she said humorously beginning to walk to where the ball hit the padded fence.  She grabbed the ball and walked back to the plate getting ready to lob it to him.

Sam laughed coldly. "Like I said, rusty." he said. "Give me a chance to warm up and I'm sure my pitching will get better." He tried to stay in a good mood, but whenever things happened that made him seem anything other than extraordinary, he got a little testy. It was part of the reason he didn't want to come here in the first place. It made him seem more human. He was above the rest, and anyone who didn't think so could kiss his ass and grovel at his feet.

Sloane smiled as she tossed the ball through the air and began to set herself up behind the box, adjusting her grip calling out sarcastically but in good humor "Whatever you say, Slugger."  She looked at the newish barely worn on the bat and shook her head, rich kids.  She spun it with her wrist as she waited for the guy to set himself up before she stepped into the box.  This might be a better pitch, and she was ready, even if it had been what felt like forever since she swung a bat.

Sam stretched his arm a bit, making it loose enough to pitch. He took a deep breath, and began the windup. To make it tougher on the girl, he imbued the ball with a small amount of energy to make it faster. It sailed down the middle of the plate at roughly 95 mph, and he waited for the sound of the ball possible shattering the bat if Sloane could manage to hit it. He hoped she did manage to swing fast enough to hit it.