Round and round

*Jet and Miles didn't always see eye to eye, but of all the people he knew, he considered Miles a friend. Miles never judged him and never treated him differently, and to see his friend go mad made his heart heavy. He was grew silent since then, seeing no one, save his employers and the people he delivered to, but still, remained quiet. He felt himself slipping, he felt guilt for what happened to Miles, and now with these words of power began imagining saying things when Vinnie died. Did he cause the explosion? Did he really mumble something that may have held power? Sure he didn't like Vinnie, but... no, he couldn't believe he killed him. All he could think to do was run, all day, all night, stopping for food and sleep. The lights were on but nobody was home. He ran all over and ended up in a bad area for his kind when his feet began to ache but he had to keep going till he reached safety. Once home he found his feet bleeding and so he rested, but taking a day off made the thoughts grow worse. The next morning as soon as it was open, he made his way to the school for a safe running area, were he could rest if his feet hurt again. He sprinted around the track for as long as he could, as fast as he could. After an hour, he would stop for water.*

The East Miskatonic Athletic Field has a beautiful track to run upon and has all of the latest sports equipment and infrastructure. He is not disturbed during his run, although he can see the football team drilling on the field.

*After his run he walks up slowly approaching the field. Once there he looks out across at the team. After the play he calls out.* Coach... is the couch around... I, I'd like to talk about joining the team. Well, that's only if there's a way for Me to join the school... *Feeling stupid he turns and starts to walk back to the track.*

"I'm not sure you could afford it!..Is he kidding?...I don't think thats happening!" Laughs a few cheerleaders.

A group of track athletes chuckle at your question, and a man wearing a coaches whistle and athletic clothes, sneers at you and gestures for you to get out.

As usual the predominately white dominated student body and faculty are callous and your inquiries are meant with laughter and derision.

Aaron was of course out on the field with the rest of the football team watching the spectacle. Shaking his head and tossing the ball into the air infront of him he had an idea. "Can you run a ball fifty yards in a play?" He yelled out towards Jet shrugging his shoulders at the odd looks he got from everyone.

"I said...CAN YOU RUN A BALL!?" He yelled louder to make sure the black man could hear him over the laughter and words of everyone else.

Jet just smiled. "Can I run a ball... You guys must not know who I am. The real question here is can anyone on this field stop me?"

He cracked his neck side to side as he prepared himself. Running from white people was nothing new, hell, being only half had him chased off by black people sometimes. All he could think about was that this time he had something to prove. He wouldn't let anything stop his deliveries, and if he got that ball he was going to deliver it for a touchdown. He stepped on the field and waited for instruction, or the pass.