It was a testament to my durability that I came out with only bruises and scrapes when I’d slipped off a two-story apartment and missed the dumpster by an exact amount of five centimeters. Like starting any new skill, I sucked at first the level of attention and coordination one had to commit to traversing the urban jungle was completely different from that of running and I’d hurt myself on more than one occasion. It was a good way to burn energy and tested my decision-making skills when it came to terrain, though it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Parkour and roof-hopping had become something of a pastime since I started it for training. I continued to freerun Northwards of the Docks. I landed with barely a stumble on top of the condominium and smiled. Then, I launched myself across, reveling in the momentary weightlessness as I felt a few heads turn to look up from the street below. I went a few steps back, then burst into a run, stepping lightly enough that I wouldn’t be breaking the ceramics with the force of my steps. It was about ten meters across, something I’d have balked at if I hadn’t jumped fifteen or so such gaps this week already. I shook my head and clambered up the shingles and back to the ridge.
#Sketchpad comedy skin
They were fine for the most part, a little red, but nothing like the blisters normal human skin would have suffered from that mistake. I took a breath, then swung my other hand up and heaved myself over. I barely caught myself on the edge, hanging by only my right hand.
My foot skipped the overhang, making me fall into the next gap. Heating yourself up using space magic tends to skew with one’s common sense. Or maybe that was just me and it was actually still cold enough to require thermals. It was nothing too bad, just remnants of what was probably the last snowfall in February that happened over the week. There was a particular chill in the air that night.
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