After creating condom art in sex ed, Tyler changed into workout clothes and went to the gym.
Only two days until the game. After some stretching and a few laps, he decided to work on his three-point throws, using
an exercise he found online.
He's getting ... well. Not all of them. But enough.
[OOC: Open.]
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Apologetically, he pointed to the ball he now balanced against one hip. "We were, but I can't until next week. The team is short on people and if I can't play Saturday because I get messed up fighting, we're hosed."
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That called for hitting things.
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Hopefully if he had, he wouldn't remember.
"Hey, Walter."
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He was really going to need to find a better way to keep his journal. Cryptography once again looked like an answer.
All that went through his head in the bare moment before he answered Tyler and took a place at the punching bag. "Hey."
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But he can't read minds, so he just went back to dribbling and shooting, dribbling and shooting.
"So what kind of condom art did you end up making?"
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He pointed to the pyramic ball. "What do you play?"
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So, in typical Pip fashion, he went to the gym to work out and nodded at the person he didn't know as he entered.
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She'd never really spent much time in gyms, but she most of the people she knew who were adept with self defense did. So, Seras had decided that she'd better learn to use it.
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"I'm Seras," she said, holding out her hand.
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