<strong>Name:</strong>Terry Hunter (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=264761.msg13074475#msg13074475) and Gavin Brightman (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=264761.msg13077767#msg13077767)<br/><strong>Time / Location:</strong>Friday, June 9th - Morning, Acacia Circle and leading onto Robinson Road<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open to Parker<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Clomping of sneakers on pavement<br/><br/><hr/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/black-metalhead-2.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/Setting%20and%20RP/article-2217762-157F7C5F000005DC-127_634x823.jpg?1490487255041&amp;1490487257213&amp;1490487258722)</div>"I can't believe I actually let you talk me into this," Gavin groaned, leaning forward as he tried to touch his fingers to his toes. This stretch was supposed to prepare his legs for the coming work-out, but he instead felt as if his back was about to disconnect from his hips. "I could be sleeping right now."<br/><br/>"You sleep enough," Terry smiled, performing lunges on the driveway. The younger man was wearing a worn out looking Testament hoodie (https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/71GQnGeCWpL._UL1500_.jpg), the graphic on the back fading, and a pair of blue Under Armour workout shorts (http://www.dickssportinggoods.com/p/under-armour-mens-tech-graphic-shorts-16uarmtchgrphcshrapb/16uarmtchgrphcshrapb?color=Brilliant+Blue%2FStealth+Gy). The sight of long sleeves and shorts looked rather absurd to Gavin, who pondered for a moment in warning his nephew that mornings out here never get brisk enough for a hoodie. Seeing as this was all his bright idea, however, Gavin decided he could enjoy a bit of schadenfreude as Terry sweltered beneath that thick garment.<br/><br/>Of course, the older man wasn't exactly much better. He hadn't shaved since his last day in the city on Wednesday, giving him a bit of a scruff to his cheeks and chin. His hair was a rightful mess, the old headband looking as uncool as Gavin had been made to feel all week. He only had the one mustard yellow t-shirt which, at this point, was quite snug over a belly he hadn't noticed develop over the last several years. While not as thick as a hoodie, the only suitable workout pants he owned were a pair of sweatpants with a bit of a hole in the crotch. Terry assured that no one else would be out this early in the morning, but even so...<br/><br/>"You sure we can't start this on Monday?" Gavin said, trying to imitate the lunges Terry was performing.<br/><br/>"Why put off to tomorrow what you can do today?" Terry shrugged with a smile. He swapped legs, placing his hands down upon his bent knee. "Besides, exercise for a few days on the regular, and you'll have more energy and more inspiration for your projects." His teeth flashed in a grin. "Works for me and my music."<br/><br/>"Oh, so that's what you call it?" Gavin's eyebrows rose. The two shared a chuckle before Terry righted himself, beginning to jog in place.<br/><br/>"Come on," he said, "we'll start with a short circuit. Nothing too demanding today." Gavin let out a deep exhale, cheeks puffed, arms waving back and forth. Never before had that driveway looked so long and foreboding as it had now. The road leaving the cul-de-sac seemed as long as a runway at the airport. Well, he agreed to it all, didn't he? When he returned Wednesday night Terry was quite the chatter box. Evidently he'd spent some time with the young Petrov girl &ndash; or, as Gavin liked to call her, the Petrol girl. As explosive and fatal as gasoline. Every town had a trouble maker, and it just figured that she'd be the first one his nephew would run into. But fortunately Terry didn't seem to be satisfied with such a friendship. Or rather, he was wary. That, at least, comforted Gavin, though he'd decided to keep a better record of his belongings so he'd notice if anything went missing. Still, the young man clearly needed a friend, and while Gavin was certainly never going to satisfy him, he was the closest the boy had to someone he could be vulnerable and trusting with.<br/><br/>"Alright," he grunted, "let's get this over with." One foot in front of the other, Gavin's feet began to pound into his driveway. With a small laugh Terry fell into step beside, suddenly causing the elder to feel a bit dwarfed in comparison. While Terry wasn't<em>much</em>taller, he certainly beat Gavin's own 5'10" height. Yet Gavin's gaze was instead quickly drawn to Terry's hands, fishing into the pockets of his hoodie and withdrawing his phone.<br/><br/>"Don't tell me you're going to text someone while we jog," he groaned, almost insulted.<br/><br/>"Nope," Terry said with a grin. The boy was clearly amused with himself... which usually meant...<br/><br/>"You'd better not be-"<br/><br/>He was. An explosion of noise burst from the phone (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKvensWwgrw), sounding almost like an alarm for an incoming bombardment from the skies. Gavin looked around at the neighboring houses as they left the cul-de-sac, expecting to see some snooty neighbor looking through their curtains with a "Well I've never!" expression plastered upon their face.<br/><br/>"Shut that off!" Gavin waved, "it's too loud!"<br/><br/>"Relax, Unc," Terry shrugged, keeping the phone in his far hand. "Just listen to the beat! Let your feet pound into the ground in time to the music!" His nephew's face began to contort in strange, possessed expressions, as if he were auditioning to play some horrid creature in a gore film. The young man was clearly into whatever this... music... was.<br/><br/>"So," Gavin panted as they turned onto Robinson Road, "this is what they use to lullaby people to sleep in Guantanamo Bay, eh?" Terry shook his head, laughing, but lifted the phone back up all the same.<br/><br/>"Okay, okay," he said, fingers carefully sliding and scrolling through his list of songs. "I'll put on something a bit more...<em>appropriate</em>."<br/><br/>"Oh, you have Richard Simmons' Communing with Satan on there?" Gavin asked with raised eyebrows. Another smirk from Terry, shaking his now perspiring head. The hoodie was indeed a bit too warm for the young man. The noise-pollution suddenly silence as Terry's phone loaded something new up, leading to a rather soft, serene, atmosphere befitting the early morning in the neighborhood. "You sure this isn't a bit too country for you?" Terry just gave Gavin another smirk and a side-long glance as they continued forward. Then came the bass-line, which clued Gavin into the coming -- and predictable -- explosion of sound. However, he wasn't expecting... Terry.<br/><br/>"<em>An eighty-nine year old man learned how to run, and as he passed me by, he said 'Come on, son!'</em>(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKzngQOm01A)" A smile was wide on Terry's face as he sang the lyrics, arm swinging in pantomime with the elderly subject of the song's verse. Gavin almost jumped clear onto the sidewalk from the sudden outburst, but his nephew, with panting breaths, continued to sing the song as they went on.<br/><br/>"Now picture this, Unc," Terry said quickly, hand waving before him as if to paint the scene. "<em>When I saw the usher of change, her flaming hair in slow-mo gliding past my window! I had to trace her down! 'You look like a really nice guy, but can you keep up with me?' And away she ran!</em>"<br/><br/>"So you like red-heads?" Gavin asked, quirking an eyebrow. Terry's body lurched forward as the laugh gasped from his lips, interrupting his reciting of the song's chorus. The elder had to admit that this one at least had something akin to<em>singing</em>in it, and yes, the beat was nice to hammer along to.<br/><br/>"Think of it like a carrot," Terry breathed. "A carrot with a nice ba-donk-a-donk."<br/><br/>"A what?" Gavin looked quizzical.<br/><br/>"You know," Terry shrugged. He then held his hands before him, uneven with each other, shifting them up and down opposite the other in time with their foot-steps. "Ba-donk, ba-donk, ba-donk, ba-donk-!"<br/><br/>"Oh, please!" Gavin shook his head. The physical shape of women and their many appealing factors was<em>not</em>something he was yet ready to discuss with his nephew. The two of them silenced, though Terry's mouth was still spread in a grin of amusement, as they continued on to another block.<br/><br/>"<em>Good morning,</em>" the phone sang, "<em>somebody kill me right now.</em>"<br/><br/>"Now<em>that</em>," Gavin panted, "I can feel." Terry simply smiled and shook his head.