<hr/><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/DyLxkmN.png?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Roberto de Costa | Sunspot<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Manion Front Yard<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Sunday, September 10th, Noon-ish<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Hourglass, OPEN<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Playing some soccer when--oops!<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Same as photo<br/><hr/><br/>It was a beautiful day outside. Clear blue skies, not a Salvation in sight, no clouds...Although, when you lived in an area with a weather witch, the fact that the weather would be perfect at any point of time was a given. It was more surprising when the weather was awful. But! That wasn't the case! The weather was good, the guys were ready to go, and it was time for the world's best pastime.<br/><br/>Football!<br/><br/>"C'mon, gotta keep up!" Sunspot laughed as he faked out two of the defenders, taking across the field, bouncing the ball expertly with his foot. This was real football, not the American testosterone garbage. They called it soccer, which made no sense. It was a ball, they kicked with their feet. American football had the ball carried by hand or thrown around. Where was the sense in calling it football? But in his eleven years in America, he had very little luck in convincing the people here of their foolishness. Apparently not all battles could be won.<br/><br/>But every Sunday, if he could, he organized a pick-up game among the students. And usually the turnout was pretty good. Today was an exception, perhaps because classes were staring up again in earnest. But five on five wasn't bad, and it wasn't long before the boys were stripped of their shirts. Roberto's fit physique glistened in the noontime sun, as sweat covered his body in a light sheen. Left, right, left, shoot...!<br/><br/>And the goalie blocked it, with his powers. A loud<em>Buuuuuuuurp!</em>echoed through the yard, the concussive wave catching the ball and sending it up field.<br/><br/>"Hey Belcher, come on, no powers!" Sunspot scolded, before sighing, looking for where the ball was going. And it was right for a lone figure, sitting a bit away. A girl, dark hair, that'd been watching them...Oh, crap. "Hey,<em>gata</em>, look out!" he shouted her way, as he started to jog her way, hoping she'd be okay.