literature

The Traceur

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Literature Text

Run.

They told me that I couldn't do it; I didn't have the stamina, my wrists were too bad. I wasn't good enough at bothering to keep myself unharmed. I'd make a terrible traceur.

Leap.

But I liked it; I practiced. And you know what? I was damn good at it. The natural urge to run, to go as fast and far as possible, it egged me on. I never even bothered tailoring the task to my body, no. I tailored my body to the task.

Swing.

It didn't take as long as I suspected -- Sooner than anyone would have thought, I was leaping, dodging, rolling, flying like you wouldn't believe. After a year, I was nearly unbeatable, poetry in motion -- No one could match my time across the city.

Run.

This was something that I could get into all too easily -- I would cover miles. I'd have my music blasting in my ears, a hat pulled down to keep the earbuds in and the cord down my hoodie. It was just me, me and the city. The concrete, and the sky. I was unbeatable, I was unrelenting, I was unstoppable. I had no boundaries.

Slide.

Down railings, through crowds, I'm sure that some people thought that I was mad, or being chased. It wasn't just running -- I did as little of that, the straight-out sprinting, as possible. Saved that for the lacrosse field. No, this was moving. This was me, conquering the terrain I traveled over. This was an art, a science. This was better than thinking by far, and often what I did instead.

Run.

I can't explain why it's so satisfying -- There's a rush to running, yeah, but when it's like this. . . It's a real challenge. It's like the thrill of the chase -- nevermind that I seem to be the one chased. It taxes your entire bodymind, all of you. You work each part of yourself to navigate around and over things in ways that normal people doing normal traversal of the area would never consider.

Jump.

You're weaving, bobbing, balancing, vaulting. You're flying, dropping, bouncing. You're getting from point A straight to point B, no compromise. Why let that building get in your way? I am fluid, shifting easily to my situation. I am defying the norm. I am defying my obstacles. Hell, I'm defying myself.

Soar.
In any universe you toss him in, five things are guaranteed about Ivan.

-he will rock your piano.
-he will flirt with anything, but always try to come home to Christian.
-he will never be sane.
-he will be an alcoholic to some degree.
-he will find somewhere to practice parkour.

I suppose this could work for either of him, but it was more geared towards AU with the lacrosse comment. . . When he can't sit still enough to play the piano, he uses parkour to run from his demons.

Ivan - mine, in case you're dropping in late.
Picture from Google. It's late, and I couldn't be bothered to come up with my own.
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EDMvirus189's avatar
^w^ Spoken/written like a true Traceur! I absolutely love this *high fives* I can't say much more to this other than the line "poetry in motion" fits it beautifully! Out of 10 I give it forty-two!! :dance: