Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions Chapter 110: How To Woo A Tomboy?

"BRO, I NEED YOU TELL EVERYTHING you know about Basketball—" Rafel entered his dorm room with this as greeting. Percival stood on the other end, already dressed for dinner with the girls in the canteen, in sparkling black and a gold tunic matching his Arc's colors.

A sigil of a Griffin was clipped to his front, on his breast pocket. Percival fastened on gold cuffs.

"Well, good evening to you too, bro. It's nice to see you too. I missed you after [Warlock Practice]. Dude!—everyone's talking about Olivar and what you did to him. They say he might have to miss a whole moon of studies, and—"

"PERCIVAL!" Rafel grated to get the boy's attention.

"Right!" The golden-haired royal clipped. He fully made his cuffs and stood tall in the lavish room area. "What do I know about basketball? Basically, it was invented by so Druid who claid to be a ti traveler—said he'd visited the future, and that the ga was 'lit' over there—whatever that ans."

Rafel interrupted. "Percy, I'm not asking about the sport's fucking history. I don't give a donkey's arse about that. I want to know about the ga. How the fuck do I dominate it?"

"Well, first; you can start by not TRYING TO DOMINATE as you call it," Percival laughed. "It isn't a battle, bro. It's a lovely sport. But for the sake of helping your war-inclined mind, I'll stoop to battle taphors. The ball is quite large; you'll have better accuracy at shooting with both hands into the hoop. You have to evade a couple of guys; think of them as—"

"Orcs on the battlefield!" said Rafel stoutly.

"—that's really not what I was going to say, but yeah; orcs on the battlefield, if that helps. The hoop is high up but you're tall, so that helps. You'd want to consider the ball as an extension of yourself, like your sword.

It really helps as you bounce it around, because when you move the way you do, and you take the ball with you, I'll bet fifteen Romanov heads no one stands a chance in front of you."

Rafel nodded. He offered quietly, "Thanks man."

"So I guess you're not coming to dinner then?"

Rafel looked to Percival at his question. His reply was clear written in his eyes.

Percival continued, "Ravenna and Rosa miss you, JUST SAYING. Plus Mikhail acts stupidly like the big, swinging dick when you're not around. Aya won't be happy about this. We haven't seen you since the detention yesterday. How was it by the way? I'm guessing this sporting rendezvous has sothing to do with it, yeah?"

Rafel gave no reply.

Cora's smile softly filtered into his head.

'Tomorrow, 4pm. Don't be late.'

'Tomorrow' had co like a blur. His eyes shifted to the ornate wall clock with the antique needles.

The hour hand pointed east. Shit, almost four, Rafel thought. He turned back to Percival. "Please send my [Bond] succubus my best. Placate her with flowers and chocolates if you must. Order her a Florentine delicacy!

I have to go." Rafel grabbed a handy bag on his bed and swiped his key card at the screen door. It swished open and he pounded down the long, wan corridor, ignoring Erika Burgess who had suddenly appeared in his way.

'Thank Lucifer my system isn't strong enough to renew our telepathic connection,' mused Rafel inwardly, thinking of Aya Naamah, 'else, she'll be screaming in my ears right now.'

Rafel focused on the present, jogging in his shorts and immaculate Jordans round the few blocks to Brightburn Hall, Cora's coed dormitory. He had on a red headband with the leaping Phoenix symbol of his Arc. He'd made his hair into a tight knot so it didn't flip in the wind.

The evening air was cold and dry, a fall weather, eerily funereal; and made more so by the students in sleek black and chiffon mink strolling the cobbled sidewalks for balmy restaurants and cafe's opening for the evening.

Rafel reached Brightburn Hall in six minutes. He ensured to be strict one. His magic watch, which told both the ti and mana rating—gotten on his previous visit to the institute's large clinic for a routine checkup on his healing—glinted 3:58pm as he pulled in a slide through a bright hallway to an open basketball arena.

The walls of Brightburn Hall held the grey of cut marble and stone. It was the most gothic of all the dorms—and that was saying sothing!

Players were already on the lit grounds. It was a small stadium, but spacious and decored enough to have bleachers and a gleaming, gray playing field that squeaked under Rafel's white Jordans. He spotted Cora almost imdiately. She stood next to a terrifyingly tall brunette.

'Sheesh, and I thought I was tall!' Rafel wondered.

Cora and the girl smiled at his approach. "Nice kicks!" Cora complinted.

Rafel didn't want to say sothing cheeky, so he only nodded and smiled back. He was just glad he'd made the ti. He knew Cora made it seem like she didn't notice, but he knew her: she did. There were just so things even mory wipes so brutal couldn't erase. Rafel noticed the 7ft brunette was still staring down at him.

"Please tell you're on my team?" He made his amber eyes plead.

The girl giggled. It was such a cute sound from soone so imposing. She had a nice laugh.

"Nah!" she said. "Sorry!"

"Ouch!" Rafel faked a wince, making both Cora and the brunette smile more.

"—but Cora is," the girl added, "and she's our MVP. You're so lucky!"

The teams separated, several Arcs and genders missing. Rafel noticed he was one of the three boys in his female-dominated, niner team. The ga began. Cora was phenonal. But in Rafel's case, it was safe to say that he preferred his sword to a bouncing a ball around. He could hack Nephilim heads for hours, but all the swiveling and jumping of the sport made his eyes hurt.

"Fuck!" He growled, losing the ball to a male opponent. "This is like swimming."

The opponent went on to perfect a miraculous slam dunk. Rafel groaned and Cora ca near. He was lucky her brightness overshadowed his flops.

"Not it's not. Why would you say that?" Cora gave him a preppy smile in encouragent.

"Uh, because I'm not good at it?" Rafel returned.

"I don't think so," Cora winked.

The ga ended in a tie. Cora was put in the fourth yard to execute a free throw. But she maneuvered to Rafel and handed him the ball.

"Take the shot, champ!" she smiled at him.

The faith in her ocean eyes was so potent Rafel had to look away. Many months ago, he too had called this beautiful, dark angelic tomboy; champ. She was trusting him with the entire team's win. The MVP's faith in him spurred the others to believe too. Rafel took the ball.

In the brief second before he shot the ball, he was tempted to call on his system for help, but he didn't.

Grimly, he imagined it was a foe's decapitated head he was tossing into a death pit. He had seen Mauler heads that weighed heavier than the fat ball in his hands. Talking aim, knocking his knees, lifting both hands, Rafel leaped slightly off the squeaky tiling. He let the ball loose, concentrating only on the high bucket net.

WHOOSH!

The ball went straight in. The hoop danced as it fell through.

"YEAH!!!" Victory pats and applause from his team went up as they hugged each other. Rafel's winning shot broke the tie. Friends and fans on the bleachers entered the ga area, embracing and chuckling under the full beam Lumos lights.

Rafel watched the invigorating scene unfold for a while; the unity of all Arcs and magical factions for the love of the ga—it was a sight. He then made his way to a low bench on the bleacher stand and pulled off his Jordans. He was rubbing down his toes in his white socks when a shadow fell on his from above. The person slled like rainflowers and mist—but also, feminine essence.

He looked up the silhouette.

"Corazón," he said aloud.

[🎶 I Don't Care – Ed Sheeran ft. Justin Bieber.]

Smiling down at him with her dimples popping, she handed him a bottle of water. And took a seaf beside him on the bench.

Rafel popped the bottle, searching his brain for what to say. He was never tongue-tied with any woman before. Never. But Cora wasn't your typical flowers and pink girl. She played basketball, got sweaty and wore shorts, and topped high-fives with jocks twice her size. She was indomitable.

'How the fuck am I supposed to woo a tomboy?'

Rafel gulped his water down hard.

"So. . .nice ga," he started.

"Yeah!" Cora crossed her long legs beside him. Rafel tried not to dwell on the shift and dip of her short baller shorts. Or the upthrust of it between her legs. He could sll the salt on her shiny skin. Rafel crossed his legs too—but for an entirely different and wanton reason.

...to hide a stiff one.

He cleared his throat.

"Thank you for letting co."

Cora nodded. They watched people leaving the under the bright lights. It was full night now, but the whole stadium was well illuminated under white lights, like the stage of an opera house.

"You played well for soone who has never dabbled before," said Cora.

Rafel t her eyes in shock.

"Oh," Cora laughed, "I knew from the mont I stared at your hands that you handle weapons, not ga balls. I admire that you were on ti too."

Rafel knew that he didn't imagine it when her blue eyes dipped to his crotch. Was she flirting?

"—I like you," her vision twinkled like the stars. Her admission wasn't sexual or anything. It just was.

"I like you too." Rafel admitted.

Under the white lights of the basketball arena, she stared at him and he watched her too. Rafel wished he could grab her and make her rember; but until it happened, he had to go slow and give it ti. He was the one who broke eye contact.

"Co on, let's get so food in you," he rubbed shoulders with her, pulling on his Jordans again, "I heard your stomach growling on the pitch."

Cora's blue eyes went wide and her smile stretched into forever. "I DID NOT!"

Rafel cracked into laughter, rising as she chased him out the stadium through the exit door. He'd never forget those dimples.