2014-08-14 Hard Feelings in the Gym
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
2014-08-14
Players: Ember Drake
GMed by Random Acts of Spongebob
Title: Hard Feelings in the Gym

Only marginally in the afternoon, and Drake's opted to visit the gym. Though without direction and little experience in terms of legitimately working out, but some things are self-explanatory. For example, it's hard to screw up a treadmill - even the state-of-the-art ones. As long as the tread is rolling, you keep pace. And if the tread is moving at lolsy speeds, you tap the number down on it. Simple stuff. And that's where Drake's opted to park himself for this quiet jog, feet plunking in rhythmic beats against the rubber, gaze listlessly ahead and mind completely elsewhere.

***

Since a short time after their meeting with Xavier, Ember has been practically bouncing off the walls with energy. Even now, nearly two days later she's still feeling like she's about to burst if she doesn't /do/ something. She's been in the pool for hours, ran the lake course, even had her first session in the aptly named 'danger room'. After grabbing a shower from that she's heading into the gym to work on some drills she was given for treating her lightform generation as a form of telekinesis.

She spots Drake on the treadmill on her way towards the weights area. After a brief pause of uncertainty, she opts to send him a quick noncomittal wave and nod as she passes.

***

The door opening catches his attention. Drake glances over, and upon recognizing the individual entering, disregards the wave to look forward again. At least no offensive fingers or sneers were involved, so there's that, at least. From the looks of things, he hasn't been at this for very long - he's not yet even worked up a sweat. He taps the up-arrow a few times, increasing the speed and, inadvertantly, the incline of the tread.

***

Ember shakes her head at the dismissal and heads past the treadmills to the weights in the marked off area next to them. She sets the tablet she was carrying on a stand next to the weight bench along with her towel, then goes over to pull a wheeled rack of low-weight dumbells over. Checking with the instructions on the tablet she removes a half-dozen dumbells from the rack, from 5- to 50-pound, and sets them on the floor next to the bench. She struggles with the last three, needing both hands and some heaving to get them into position. While rubbing her formerly injured right shoulder, she sits down and check the tablet again. First time running the drill solo, she's making certain to follow the instructions.

***

Whump-whump-whump-whump. Drake's feet thump against the rubber tread faster, keeping pace. After Ember passes him, he steals a curious glance in her direction. When she struggles with the last few, a smirk crosses his face. But his attention turns forward again, letting the silence continue. The arrow is tapped a few more times, increasing the pace. It isn't at a challenging level just yet.

***

Silence is something Ember's comfortable with, in the way of anything one is required to live with for a while can become comfortable. But as she reaches a point in the instructions, she frowns and scans through it again before glancing in Drake's direction with a self-directed frown. A bit of thinking and she stands up with her towel in hand, then holds it in mid-air so it hangs from her hands like a curtain or a magician's cape right before he makes something 'reappear'.

A moment later, the towel is held not by her hands but by a wire-thin lattice of crystal just thick enough to keep the makeshift visual barrier in place. Then while her hands and feet are sometimes visible past the towel's edge, most of her is hidden behind it except for a vague silhouette. She sits down and reaches for the lightest of the weights and start to do repetative lifts using both hands and forming an aura of semi-solid light around it that makes to he silhouette slightly more pronounced, although still fuzzy around the edges.

***

Drake has stopped paying attention to her by the time she's put up her towel in a makeshift curtain. His focus is no longer on something distant, but rather strictly on the task at hand; cardio. With a few more taps of the arrow, Drake's moving at a full run. Legs pump, his form steady, paced, and practiced, clearly experienced as a sprinter.

Another curious glance is shot in Ember's direction, and the setup she's working with is noted with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He can assume why she's chosen to do that, but it ultimately has nothing to do with him. He retrains his gaze forward, mind affixed on the rhythmic pounding of his feet and the constant whirr of the machine.

***

Ember continues the lifts behind the makeshift curtain, the glow around the weight increasing then becoming more crisp with defined edges. Then the silhouette shows her dropping her hands away from the weight, which hovers in the air. Slowly but smoothly the weight begins to move up and down as if it were still in someone's hands. This continues for ten reps, then the weight settles down to the ground with an audible clank.

Twice more she repeats this; picking up the weight and getting the motion started manually before continuing it with a constructed lightform. Then on the third set she doesn't pick up the weight but instead the weight is picked up direction from the ground by her lightform and put through three more sets of fifteen reps before she sets it down and dismisses the lightform, dropping the light level behind the towel back to normal.

There isn't much of a silhouette visible through the curtain without the backlighting, but the towel shifts soon as she has stood to wipe herself down from sweating. As the fabric bunches up and is applied to her face, parts of her become visible. Her feet are bare, but are neither pale blue or her usual lightly tanned illusion. Rather they are an extremely pale almost waxy white with no toenail to speak of. Her hands, when they're visible, are similar except for a few places where the waxy white surface is broken by a slash of opalescent hardness.

***

Drake is content to let her do whatever it is she intends to do over there in her corner. And as time passes, the teen works up a suitable sweat and feels the appropriate burn. The down-arrow is tapped repeatedly slowing the machine down. No cool-down period for him. When the treadmill's at a crawl, he studies the array of buttons closely. Finally, he finds one that's simple and forward enough: 'stop'. That's the one he taps next.

Once the machine comes to a halt, he drops off the treadmill and wobbles. In momentary panic, he snatches the support rail on the side of the machine to steady himself. It takes a couple extra moments before he's used to the world not moving beneath his feet, but once he's suitably confident that he won't faceplant, he begins moving towards a towel previously discarded near suspended punching bags. Once taken, he drapes it over his shoulders, one end brushed along his face, and back turned to Ember.

***

About the time that Drake is finishing his run, Ember is finishing her sets on the fourth of the six weights, the 20-pounder. She was barely able to do the physical lifting with that one, an occurance that is not something she'll ever find reason to brag about. And now that she's at the 35-pound dumbell she's really starting to not like this drill. But this is for her extra daily assignment and the instructions were to keep at it until she finished all six sets.

So she drops off the bench to kneel next to the weight and wrap her arms around it to get enough leverage to lift it from the floor and get a lightform constructed around it. Then it's a very slow set of reps, interspersed with heavy breathing and the occasional clank and the weight slips from her control. Right now she's in no real position to notice Drake, or even to notice or remember that there's anyone else in the room.

***

Drake can hear the goings-on, but it doesn't concern him. She's doing her thing, he's finished with his, as far as he can tell, and he has somewhere - anywhere, really - else to be. He spares a final glance in the female's direction, lingering only a second or two, before turning to make his way out the door.

***

The sound of the door closing causes Ember's concentration to slip and drop the 30-pound weight again, adding another small dent to the already abused floor. She takes a moment to catch her breath and glance in the direction Drake left, then looks back at the instructions for this drill on the tablet. The part that she hesitated over is still on the screen as she returns to struggling with her reps…

'Always lift with a partner.'

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License