Flight [open]

Coil up your legs. Don't look down. Or up. In fact, just close your eyes. Poppy sprung.

If she was being honest, it was half an accident. She always overshot this kind of thing.

All it took was one twitch of her heel, a tap of her foot against the concrete to launch herself into the air like a pinball. The rain pelted her like bullets. She felt her stomach twist, twirling through the open air. It took a moment for gravity to catch up to her before she started plummeting back down toward the earth. The first time she'd done this, she hadn't even screamed. Just hurled up her breakfast.

Did you know how much spread spam and potatoes got from ten miles up?

She knew.

Her jacket parachuted up against the cold blast of air that caught her on the way down.

Spread your arms. Your legs. Now swallow back your breakfast. The roof was five big thumping heartbeats away, sloping down toward the courtyard like a half-pipe. She tucked her chin into her chest and flipped, arms flailing, legs out, feeling that familiar ricochet. Her legs should've snapped like toothpicks, but instead... CRACK. Slate tiles blasted up around her in fragments from under her beaten-down shoes and then she was sliding, skating, slipping down the roof. The shock rippled up her legs, rattling her spine, tingling at the back of her heels and spreading up toward her fingertips, but heck, she was still upright and...

She finally lost her bearings halfway down the slant, tripping, rolling forward, sliding on her behind now, now her back, the edge pulling close to greet her.

Oh.

Weird, but she couldn't think of anything better. Put it on her epitaph.

It was kind of like getting a rug yanked out from underneath her. Empty air cradled her. She fell like a rock, the wind and rain whistling in her ears. But hey, what was another thirty feet?

This time she did scream. She couldn't speak for the unlucky bastard underneath her.

Shaun leaned for maybe the tenth time against the wall, almost losing his will power along the way. He was still trying to induce the sensation of warmth over the cold bricks, but all he could get were almost burning hot random spots. He took off his hoodie, examining the marks left on the fabric with a sight. Maybe it was time to give in and try another day, he couldn't tell. Certaintly his head hurt bad enough to make him want to drag in a grave and sleep there. So the Autumn rounded the corner with his head down, fidling for his phone to get his mind of the unsuccessful practice. And then that happened...

He heard the scream and almost leaped back in surprise, but he kept his ground as his eyes shot up just in time to brace himself for the impact. The girl tumbled over his like a meteorite, and Shaun rubbed the back of his head as soon as he manged to get into a sitting possition. "Hey, meteor gal, you breathin'?" he asked, wondering whether he could try and send her comforting vibes via his gift. But all he could manage were awkward vibes, which he didn't need his gift for.

She hurtled down like a comet. Or maybe some kind of bomb. That's what air raid sirens were for, right?

No, she was getting ahead of herself. She couldn't let her mind wander. Right.

So she was dying or something. Poppy slammed down, the breath knocked out of her, and tumbled out over the concrete walkway and over the damp grass and the sharp ache in the small of her back told her that she was most definitely probably not dead. Whew. That was a relief. She sprawled out across the ground, the sky spinning above her, swallowing back her breakfast, too caught up in the whole not dying thing to spit back something clever right away.

She'd cut it close a few times, but that was... well, pretty dang close to biting the dust. Poppy didn't fancy she looked too pretty as a pancake, a red splotch against the asphalt the new kids would make urban legends about. But then again her nana had always reminded her she wasn't that much of a looker in the first place.

Poppy finally turned her head to examine the impact site... He was asking about her, but really, he was pretty lucky himself that she'd just flopped over him from the roof and not cannon balled from the sky at terminal velocity. Then they would've both turned into one big pretty red splotch against the asphalt.

"No," she answered, appropriately breathless, "sorry."

There was that bait for a slick pick-up line. Like, "hey, did it hurt when you fell from heaven? 'cause fuck god damn that really hurt." But she wasn't really in a place for suggestions, or to play wingman against herself. Poppy sucked in a big ol' unattractive gulp of air, like a fish out of water, and let the words tumble out when she exhaled.

"This kinda happens to me a lot."

Shaun sighed, wondering what he could say to a girl who just fell from the sky. Literally. His hands ached and he was sure he had enough bruises, but he could help be more worried about the other girl. If he was dead beat after she fell on him, she must be worse, probably. "Do you want me to take you to the infirmary, meteor gal?" he suggest, putting a scrapped hand on her shoulder. His back stung where he had fell and the uncomfortable position was ridiculously accentuating the pain. If she wasn't going to want to be taken to the infirmary, he was going to drag himself there anyway. He wondered what he would tell the medics there. 'Oh yeah, you know, a mad girl just fell over me, no biggie, if you could jus patch me up it would be appreciated.' he thought with a shrug.