..FALLING ON THIN ICE [molly]

[PETER MORETTI]

.

tell the world
i'm coming home

.

Ice skating was one of the most amazing sports. He had enough coordination to glide effortlessly over the ice, and was shockingly decent at it. Every once in a while, his balance faltered, but his hands rarely met the cold surface. It was strange how he found it so easy to keep cool and steady on the slippery floor, though on a football field, he could trip over his shadow.

Unfortunately, this was not the reality of the situation.

Pete could barely stay up..how could anyone?! His legs felt like jello. There were barely any people there, and he still managed to crash into nearly everyone he passed. He didn't even want to be there. He needed more physical education credit and figured that skating would be easy enough. Now, he wished he had chosen something else. His gloves were soaked from rubbing against the ice so many times, and his knees were covered in the light snow that appeared on the ice from it being grounded up with blades.

He looked ridiculous and uncoordinated..but he tried not to get frustrated. Usually, that wasn't a problem and he could easily shrug anything off..but it wasn't exactly fun to try to ignore his constant falling. He was going to be covered in bruises if he didn't get off soon..but he needed a couple hours to get the class credit. Comon, Pete. Lots of people can skate. What if ya needed to do this to get a part in a movie? Wouldja give up and leave the rink? No way. His thoughts sounded less than convincing in his head, though he kept at it.

With his new slight confidence, he took in a breath and tried again to move forward, lightly pushing himself away from the wall that he had previously been clutched to. I look like a five year old.. he said as his arms instinctively waved at his sides in attempt to regain balance. Lo and behold, his confidence diminished as he, yet again, hit the ice, catching himself on his elbows. It took a lot to get him this annoyed, but he was definitely there. Clearly, trying to be optimistic was not going to work. Okay.. new approach. I will die the next time I fall down. Although he was able to humor himself, he couldn't motivate himself enough to try again.

Completely aggravated, he grabbed the side of the rink to hold the wall and get himself off the ice. Of course, as he looked up, he found himself on the opposite side of the rink from the exit. This was ridiculous.

He dragged himself along the edge as quickly as he could, and still couldn't manage to get anywhere. He wasn't going to be stuck there another hour..which would happen at the rate he was going.. so he left the wall. It took him about ten seconds to knock into someone. Umph.. Falling down was getting old. Gah.. sorry.. I realize that I shouldn't even be allowed in here.. I'm a safety hazard.. which..is why I was just leaving. I swear.. he muttered, in such disbelief that he had fallen again.

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[molly]

[atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 400px; border: 3px solid #005555; border-radius:20px 50px 20px 50px; background:url('http://vintagebackgrounds.com/files/cc/Vintage_Backgrounds119.jpg'), bTable] Molly had grown quite fond of gym class of colleges. Not only were they more sanitary, but they were also more open. You could do several things to get credit, and most were loads of fun. Or so she had heard. As soon as Mol had heard Ice Skating was an option last year as a freshman, she had decided to go with that. Growing up, her parents had taken her to one ice rink that happened to be around the block from her home back in Liverpool. Her brother and she had enjoyed it greatly and became quite good at it. It was a Saturday morning, and she wasn't booked for any of her clubs or other activites, so she figured she should get some of her hours taken care of. Molly moved around her dorm quitely as to not wake her roomate. After she was clad in mittens, a heavy jacket, thick leggings and a scarf, she was gone. Her ice skates were old and beat up, but were nice back in the day. Now they were scratched beyond belief and tied together by their laces. Mol loved them and they were what she was used to, however. The reason she was all bundled up was that she did not want to get too cold. If she got too cold, that would raise her chances of being sick, and being sick with what she was already dealing with would not be good. She wasn't exactly an idiot, nor reckless. Ice skating was kind of dangerous, I mean, you could fall and break a bone or something but that didn't count in Molly's eyes. Smoking pot would be a different story. She signed in for her gym class right as she got down there. The rink was not crowded at all, there were only a few people since it was 'early'. Most others thought ten was early on a weekend, but Molly had a hard time sleeping in. She put on her skates and stepped onto the now rough ice and skated around like it was second nature. Her legs moved smoothly as she glided on the ice and she even did a twirl or two. It felt so great to be skating. It reminded her of home and her family. She closed her eyes to reminice (<--fail) and in the process felt a body collide with hers. "Umph!" was the sound that escaped her lips and she toppled to the ice onto her side. Molly didn't hit that hard but the fall had surprised and knocked the wind out of her. She saw a man around her age on the ice beside her, and assumed he was the one that crashed into her. By what she could observe, he didn't seem to be too great of an ice skater. His jeans had wet spots by the knee and shin, indicating that he had fallen a good number of times before this. The expression on his face looked frustrated, like he had been trying a good long time to skate but was not succeeding. Behind the depressing expression was a cute face, though, she couldn't help but notice. Brown, tousled hair, a sharp jawline, and slanted eyebrows with brown eyes underneath them. He looked familiar. Molly took a second to figure out what had happened before slowly attempting to stand back up again. There was no reason to rush, there weren't enough people on the rink to crash into them unless he/ she was incredibly stupid. She stretched out the side she had landed on. A little sore, but nothing serious. Looking down at the guy who had crashed into her, she assessed whether or not he needed help getting back on his skates. "You need help?" she asked in a small voice, her hand slowly reaching out.

words: I'd say around 600. || tags: St. Peter. || outfit: Described it. || notes: Ice Skating is fun.

_{made by rockie at caution altered by bubbles}

[PETER MORETTI]

.

tell the world
i'm coming home

.

Crap. He had to take down ,with his clumsiness , a girl? She was pretty cute, too. He was actually slightly embarrassed, which didn't happen a lot. Luckily, she seemed nice enough, and had offered to help him up. He hesitated before deciding that he may as well have used her to get back up..since it'd be one less second that he would spend with his butt on the ice. He put his cold hand in hers; he had not had enough sense to bring gloves; while using the other to push himself up, then using the girl's hand to get back on his feet. The moment he was standing again, he nearly slid back down, but managed to use his arms to regain balance. At that moment, he realized how stupid he probably looked, accepted it, and decided it was acceptable to admit how badly he had been doing.

Thanks, but I'll probably be back down there again very soon, so I'm starting to wonder if it'd make more sense just to sit on the ice. It really had been every minute or so that he had been losing balance. He didn't understand how he could be so bad at something that seemed so simple. Sorry again for knocking you down. Safety hazard.. he said while pointing at his chest, as if to label himself like a sign. He then noticed that he had seen this girl before..but he couldn't figure out where. He couldn't even remember her name, and he wondered whether he should have known her name or not.

He felt pretty bad about bumping into her and would have given her her space, assuming she wanted the conversation to end there, but he couldn't really get away from her even if he tried. He had, basically, zero control over his feet while trapped in the blades of death..and he was fairly sure that he wasn't ever going to get any. Taking notice that the girl hadn't skated away from him after a couple seconds, he decided to try to make conversation. Maybe she was interested in talking..and if she wasn't, she'd just go away. No harm in trying.. You're sorta familiar.. in a noncreepy way.. I'm Peter.


tags;; molldoll words;; not counting. notes;; he's such a dork..

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[molly]

[atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 400px; border: 3px solid #005555; border-radius:20px 50px 20px 50px; background:url('http://vintagebackgrounds.com/files/cc/Vintage_Backgrounds119.jpg'), bTable] She could feel his freezing hand through her thick gloves, and had realized that he had not brought his own set of gloves. Obviously this guy was not experienced at ice skating, almost everyone knew to bring gloves. Otherwise, you would be freezing cold and hurt yourself if you landed on your hands on the ice. His large hand easily covered hers but she pulled him up with all of her strength, which, quite honestly, she didn't have much of. This was the only 'sport' she participated in, so she didn't really have much muscle in her arms. As soon as he was up, he almost toppled right over again. The site actually made her chuckle. "You're not very good at this, are you?" she asked teasingly in her usual quite, polite voice. Molly didn't want to scare him off, now. She soon realized he had a sense of humour. She smiled and looked down at the ice. "I guess you could, but then someone may trip over you and we'd have this same situation over again." Molly had never felt so comfortable talking to a stranger. "It's quite alright. Are you alright, though?" Or are you used to falling? she thought. Without noticing exactly what she was doing, Molly took his hands and looked at them, making sure they weren't raw or cut from the ice. They seemed okay. Molly pulled off her own gloves and gave them to him. They were some big Northface ones that she did not need as much as him. "Here, use these." she shoved them into his hand. "I guess you were lucky I wasn't wearing my purple coach ones today." Like she would honestly own purple gloves. Molly mentally sighed as he mentioned her being familiar. So she wasn't going crazy. "Yes, I was thinking that same thing. We may be in clubs together...I'm not sure." she shrugged and circled around the stranger in fancy swirly motions as he stood there unable to move. She was not showing off, Molly merely had a hard time staying in place on an ice rink. Stopping short in front of him again, she smiled. "Peter, nice name. I'm Molly."

words: I'd say around 600. || tags: St. Peter. || outfit: Described it. || notes: Ice Skating is fun.

_{made by rockie at caution altered by bubbles}

[PETER MORETTI]

.

tell the world
i'm coming home

.

He chuckled lightly as she did; he couldn't help it. He knew how hard it must have been not to laugh at him. He could barely stand. He even laughed when she pointed out that sitting on the ice would not be a good idea. She was funny. He liked that. Then she asked him if he was good at skating, obviously not looking for him to answer. He decided to answer her anyway, very convincingly,You mean.. I'm not supposed to fall? Damn, I thought I was doing great! Peter was often very sarcastic, but not in a dark kind of way. His sarcasm came from his humor, and he was usually very capable of making fun of himself. He had the confidence for it. Sarcasm was, after all, acting, of which Peter was obsessed, to say the least. Now, if he could take some of that skill and bring it to ice skating.. he would look slightly less like he had never seen frozen water before.

He noticed that she had looked at his hands. He then took a moment to look at them himself. They looked great..compared to how they felt. They weren't blue, which was a good sign, but constantly scraping warm skin along a freezing, wet surface did not feel too great. He had never even thought earlier about bringing gloves. Now he felt even more stupid than when he almost killed himself by sliding backwards after he stood up. Gloves..I s'pose that's a good idea.. he admitted, curling his fingers in to warm them up and to get them less stiff. He didn't take the gloves right away, not wanting to accept them because she wouldn't have any. However, when he really thought about it logically, she really didn't need them, and he appreciated her offer. Thanks..really. I'd ask if you're sure..if you really don't need them..but that'd be almost an insult to you, he said; a soft grin on his face as he slid the gloves on, immediately feeling relief from the powdered ice that had been between his fingers. He held a hand up in front of his face. Purple would have been better, actually. The black doesn't really go well with my eyes..seeing as brown and black clash. He barely ever noticed anymore when he was sarcastic. He had sort of adapted it as a second language.

She didn't skate away! That was good..it meant she didn't think of him as a complete dork. That..or..maybe she wanted her gloves back. Either way, Peter was glad that she seemed up for conversation..even though he could barely make eye contact with her due to her constant moving around. He wasn't annoyed with it..more so astonished. How did she do that?! You should really show me how you do that, he muttered, watching her move so effortlessly. He slowly started moving his feet, trying to keep them as close to the ice as possible. If he could walk and talk at the same time, he'd feel accomplished. Molly, eh? Nice to meet you, he said with a friendly smile. Molly.. he liked the name. It wasn't like some prissy name that he heard all over the place. So, Molly, If you're right, then we've either seen each other in.. the foreign language club, jazz band..wait..you're in band, aren't you? He played drum set in band. Sitting behind a symbol all the time didn't make it easy to recognize people. Not to mention, he was a freshman. All the faces he saw looked new to him, so he wasn't so great at remembering people just yet.

tags;; mollypalooza words;; not counting. notes;; i love them:D

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[molly]

[atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 400px; border: 3px solid #005555; border-radius:20px 50px 20px 50px; background:url('http://vintagebackgrounds.com/files/cc/Vintage_Backgrounds119.jpg'), bTable] Her sarcasm seemed to be overlooked as Peter answered her question with what at first sounded like a thoughtful answer, but then turned to more sarcasm. Molly looked back at him and shook her head in an amused fashion. She hadn't been this amused in quite some time; maybe she should look towards talking to strangers more often. "You were doin' great, for what I am assuming-and hoping- an amateur?" Hopefully Peter was new to skating, because if he wasn't and was this terrible...well that would be depressing. While searching his hands for any marks or scrapes, Molly noticed calluses in peculiar spots on his hands. His hands looked strong, and his fingers were long and lean. The hands of a musician; she could tell. Peter seemed opposed to taking the gloves at first, like he was stunned she was giving them to him to use. "Go ahead, wear them." Molly urged him further. "That way you won't hurt your hands." She shook her head. "I jus' use them to keep warm, I 'spose." Molly chuckled again; oh, how clever he was. "Sorry, I'll keep that in mind the next time I see someone ice skating on their rear." After her three seconds of free style, she stopped and gave Peter a funny look. "Do wha'?" She smiled. "Kidding. You need to learn to keep your balance on the skates before trying anything fancy." she said not at all rudely. Molly took his now gloved hands and started skating backwards, dragging him along. She was doing this to see if he could keep his balance and stay upright. How she could be so comfortable around Peter already, she did not know. "Nice meeting you too." "Well, I'm actually in Jazz Band, Concert Band, and Orchestra." she said bashfully. Molly joined too many clubs for her own good. "I assumed you were in band. I saw the calluses on your hands. Drum set?" She vaguely remembered him playing drums in band, but since the year had started not too long ago, she wasn't exactly sure. Hell, Mol didn't even know what year Peter was in. "Jazz Band, I play bass guitar. I had played it when Jesus Christ was playing full back for Israel. Picked it up again." She mentally smacked herself. That last part was one of those stupid expressions from her city that she always had hated, but her parents had used it often. "Sorry, played it awhile ago and just recently picked it back up. Thank goodness I'm not a deadbeat at it." "You're in foreign language club? Interesting. I can only speak sign language." Her brother had been born hearing impaired so she had been forced to learn it from a young age. Even though Arthur, her brother, had since got treatments to slowly correct it, Molly had kept at it, merely because it was a fascinating thing to learn.

words: I'd say around some number. || tags: St. Peter. || outfit: Described it. || notes: Ice Skating is fun.

_{made by rockie at caution altered by bubbles}

[PETER MORETTI]

.

tell the world
i'm coming home

.

His laugh escaped again once she called him an amateur. That was one way to put it.. though they were measuring his skill as a skater, which he hadn't really done much of because of all the falling, so he didn't even know if he was good enough to be considered amateur. Don't worry, I've never done this before. And at this rate, I'm not sure I'll ever do it again. It obviously wasn't his forte.. why waste time getting bruises when he could be memorizing lines?

Nodding with a grin, he replied, Thank you, it'd be much obliged.. I need to look classy while falling on my rear. As she took his hands, - which were at that point much warmer - he almost felt pressured to figure out how to skate. Her hands were exceptionally smaller than his, and he'd undoubtedly take her down again if he slipped. Even so, he felt more balanced with something to hold onto, even though she wasn't as steady as a wall. She obviously knew what she was doing, and she did it well. Now that he was spending some on his feet, he was figuring out how to push himself forward in small intervals. Every few seconds, he faltered, but he wasn't hitting the ice anymore. He was .. almost... skating.

Aah, so she was a band junkie. That's why he had seen her before. She played bass! She didn't even sit far from him during rehearsal. He had just always seen her as another face he didn't know. She must've been pretty musically inclined, being in so many bands and having noticed he was a drummer just from his hands. Very impressive, he said with a friendly smile, before laughing at her next comment. Clearly, you're pretty good at it.,at reading music in general. You keep up with three sets of music? He chuckled again, scoffing. Yea, set..it's the only instrument medium that I can play. I could never learn the notes in either clef.

Just then, he nearly slipped again, but was able to regain balance, mostly because he was still holding onto Molly. Sorry.. I can barely move forward on my own.. it's a wonder I can have a conversation with you and skate at the same time. Surprisingly, while he was talking, it was sort of like he forgot where he was, which was helpful as it made the skating come more naturally to him. He wasn't going to slip while he wasn't overthinking the whole thing. Sign language? What have you got that skill for? He asked with genuine curiosity, not meaning to be rude. It wasn't exaclty common for someone to be fluent with sign language. Nobody needed it unless deaf or close to it, or around someone who was deaf or close to it. You're not reading my lips, right? You can hear what I'm saying? He was only half serious with that question, though he was still interested in knowing why she knew sign language. I'm not exactly fluent in any other language.. I just know a bit of a lot of them.. helps when I audition for a show. Throwing a little French or German into an audition was always more fun if the part called for it.



tags;; molly words;; not counting. notes;; i still love them<3

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[molly]

[atrb=border,0,true] [atrb=style, width: 450px; height: 400px; border: 3px solid #005555; border-radius:20px 50px 20px 50px; background:url('http://vintagebackgrounds.com/files/cc/Vintage_Backgrounds119.jpg'), bTable] "Never ice skating again, well you have to keep trying!" She had assumed that he had only taken this class for a gym credit, and not for fun. Peter certainly didn't look like he was having fun. "Is this your gym credit?" Most people Molly knew only chose things for gym that they were acutually familiar/decent with. Choosing something that wasn't would be like torture. It would be like Molly playing American footbal with all the big tough fratboy seniors of the college that spend most of their time boozing it up at parties and barely passing classes. But whatever that's cool. She was extremely pleased that he kept fairly steady on his skates, with a only a few minor moments of unsteadiness. "There you are! You're getting better!" Molly said encouragingly. "So what are you majoring in?" Molly wanted to make conversation. Nothing was worse than awkward silence while trying to help a stranger ice skate...oh wait, that didn't happen often with her so she wouldn't know. "Music? Or is that just a side activity?" Molly laughed. She didn't mean to, but he seemed much to impressed that she read...three sets of music? What did he mean by that? "Three sets of music. Yeah, I guess that's one way to put it. But it sounds a bit odd that way." Mol actually thought that drum music looked much more confusing than any of her other instrument's music. It wasn't all exactly in treble or bass cleft, but something weird and completely different. It was almost like piano, that was bass cleft and treble cleft. She can't play piano. Peter slipped again, but this time it almost knocked the both of them down. Molly clung to his hands more tightly as he slipped and was able to keep him upright. "Maybe you should just be quiet." she teased. She skated a bit further without talking, just to get back into the grove. It was then that she finally answered. "My brother was born hearing impaired. I was forced into learning it. It was either that or not communicate with him." He had had surgery when he was ten which made him regain some of his hearing. Not only does Molly still use it out of habit, but it's extremely intriguing to her, so she never wants to forget it. "Deaf and playing music? And not magic, you know." Mol couldn't help but think of Harry Potter once she said that. There were Harry Potter signs all over the buses back home. "I am not deaf." Her hearing was above par while her brother Arthur was completely deaf. "I wish I knew legitimate languages. Like French or something. What do you know?"

words: IDGAF. || tags: St. Peter don't call my name. || outfit: If you don't know it by now you're blind. || notes: Ice Skating is becoming redundant.

_{made by rockie at caution altered by bubbles}

[PETER MORETTI]

.

tell the world
i'm coming home

.

Of course he was skating for credit. He wouldn't be there unless he had to, that was for sure. Then again, how would she know that? He was pretty bad at it, and he had chosen it himself. He brought the problem upon himself and it was not very enjoyable. Nodding sheepishly, he answered. Yeaa.. I was under the impression that this would be an easy pass. I'm..not exactly the athletic type. Though, as it turned out, even ice skating required more athletic ability than Peter had. You're here to enjoy yourself, and were doing so until I came along, correct? He had to admit that he was feeling slightly like an inconvenience to her.

Chuckling a little at her compliment, he realized how steady he had been--well..steady wasn't exactly the word, but it would do in comparison to how he had been before her help. 'Spose I am..but don't get too confident. You let go and I'll get better at hitting the ice with my face. He still couldn't believe that she was helping him. He'd be extremely insecure, which was not common for him, if it weren't for how funny and friendly she was being. Then, she asked what major he was. That question always seemed to come up, and he was so used to getting negative feedback. Acting is my major. Everything else is 'just a side activity'. I love drumming, but I'm not passionate for it. And if you disapprove of my profession, let me save you your breath by reassuring you that I don't plan to end up on the street. I have a back-up plan..my parents own a business. He didn't sound annoyed when he said it-- more like tired of explaining himself. People heard actor and assumed that he wasn't going to get anywhere in life with such a competitive field. The story was growing dull and old with every time that he heard it. What about you, eh? Not planning on being a professional figure skater or something?

He laughed again. I mean..isn't that a lot to practice? Drum music is written differently for every song, but it's not like the rhythms are always new. I play practically the same beat for every song in each time signature. Learning all that music had to be time consuming. He didn't even have to play what was printed half the time. He generally played what his music told him to until he knew the song well, and then he began to improvise. Not much practicing required in that.

A large grin filled Peter's face after he nearly killed the two of them and she told him to just be quiet. He was relieved that he hadn't caused her to fall down and decided that maybe silence was a good idea..just for a moment or two, so that he could regain his footing. What she said next sincerely interested him. Hearing impaired? That's awful. But learning sign language sounds like you got something out of it. He's deaf? Must be sort of lonely. Peter didn't think he could ever learn such a language. He didn't understand how a whole set of sounds and syllables could be translated into hand movements. You seem fairly magic to me, on the ice anyway. How was I to know? He asked with a laugh.

I don't think I'd be capable of learning sign language. I know French, Spanish, German, Swedish, Chinese, Korean, Arabic, he said hesitantly, trying to remember the long list in his head. and a little bit of Swahili, but it's really difficult. I'd hafta be brilliant to master that one. And I don't exactly.. know them all. I could survive if stranded somewhere, but I wouldn't be able to have a conversation. Not an interesting one, anyway. Years and years of practicing foreign languages had led him to memorizing basic phrases with different tongues.




tags;; name words;; not counting. notes;; hi

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