<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/mfs9DGd.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Salem Summers | “Cyclops”<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Tennis Court<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Sept. 3rd, 4:45 pm<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Rogue<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Salem is on a bench to put on shoes. She continues the conversation while doing so. Begins to stretch, continues talking.<br/><strong>wearing:</strong>Autumn Tennis Clothes (http://i.imgur.com/XrBXtHZ.jpg)<br/><hr/>Salem had already been on the second shoe, and as Rogue came up to her, she was finishing up. With the shoes laced, she proceeded to lift one foot up after another to slip them on. Then came the tying. She kept up the conversation as aut pilot took care of the motor controls.<br/><br/>It was a good sign that Rogue was early. The weekly tennis match had been Salem’s idea from the beginning. She didn’t necessarily need more to do. She attended school seven days a week, so there was a limited time for any activity. But Rogue had taken a liking to this, much to Salem’s surprise, and now the other girl was even showing up early.<em>‘Might find myself out on the court more and more.’ - ‘should keep an eye on that.’ - ‘I’ve read the Witches of Eastwick’ - ‘nasty women those.’ - ‘of course… different worlds.’</em>Salem’s mind was fast. She thought about the dangers of tennis taking up too much of her time in a split second before she responded to Rogue.<br/><br/><strong>“That would have been something.”</strong>Salem was always early to everything. She was the one who set up the horsderves at parties. She was the girl who showed up before social events started, and spent awkward moments with the host in the kitchen instead of socializing. She’d heard the words ‘fashionably late’ before. But, she didn’t like the concept. So, when others did show up fashionably late, she was never impressed.<br/><br/>Rogue immediately jumped into her antagonist style of competition. The other girl had learned that Salem was quite competitive already. And, although Salem never acted like a sore loser, her effort on the court right before a loss always made it evident; Salem hated losing. She laughed at Rogue, appreciating the competitive spirit.<strong>“Are you...?”</strong>She smiled, that hadn't been a question at all.<strong>“Good to see you too, Rogue.” </strong>Her attitude was jovial. She looked happy. Her smile was honest, and her cheeks were bright from the biting wind. Rogue was a welcome sight.<em>’she looks great…’ - ‘hmm.’ </em>Salem offered a comfortable half-smile.<strong>“I’m good too.”</strong>Salem always felt the same, challenged, driven, and marching with a chip on her shoulder. But, she had found ways to avoid those subjects during idle chit chat like this.<strong>“The wind’s a little aggressive, though.” </strong>She was making sure to keep her knees pinned together as she put her shoes on. Any subtle movement let the wind in. A brief moment passed as she tied her shoes.<br/><br/><strong>“I think…” </strong>She paused as her hands whipped around her foot, tying the laces and finishing the process of the shoe-thing.<strong>“...I need to stretch out. I’ve been in class for a while today. My shoulders feel tight.”</strong>Salem knew full well that everything was tight, but her shoulders were always the first to show their fatigue.<br/><br/>She lowered herself from the bench down to the ground, making sure her skirt was under her. It was time to let the wind in, if she was going to start stretching. She put herself in a lazy barbie stretch to activate everything. Left arm inside of her right knee over her left leg. She engaged the stretch and focused on her back, careful to light each muscle group up in her mind as she stretched half of them, and clinched the others.<br/><br/>Her eyes were closed, but no one would have been able to tell.<strong>“How are things going with the others? Anyone else still giving you shit?”</strong>It was nice being around Rogue. It reminded Salem of who she was before the laser beam. When she was an orphan girl with a close friend every now and then, tough girls with dirty mouths and an attitude. Salem had once been similar to that type, rebellious, ungrounded, angry. It was nice, it was human. She could tap into it at will around Rogue.<strong>“It’s been a while now, I feel like people would be used to having you around.”</strong>Salem’s mouth kept running as she switched her stretch to the other side. Right arm inside of left leg over right knee.<strong>“You’ve been her longer than most people I know.” </strong>It wasn’t an untrue statement. But it might have been challenging, Salem had made it a mission to make Rogue feel like she belonged here. She was deep now into the campaign.