In.
Out.
In.
Out.
His arms were sort of getting shaky and he was getting all sweaty, but that’s what you wear your fucking workout clothes for, eh? So you don’t get your good ones all sweaty and at the end of your little workout sesh, you can just take a nice shower, get all the sweat and dirt and shit off and then get back into your good clothes and go back home and troll commies on Twitter. You exercise your body at the gym, and then you exercise your mind explaining to them why Americans aren’t the bane of the fucking world or something, until you get banned or something for ‘uncivil behavior’, make another account, and repeat.
((Matthew Bell – Pregame Start))
Right now, he was working on the chest press machine; that was what they were called, right? The one where you sit down, put your back against the machine, grip the handles of the machine, push it away and then bring it back, rinse and repeat until you’re either satisfied with your gains for the day or your arms are like jelly and you can’t do shit anyway. He was sort of starting to get to that latter stage; he had been working on this machine for pretty fucking long, and as much as he wanted to stop and take a break, you gotta push yourself, otherwise you won’t make any gains. Wasn’t like he could make much more gains, but he’s gotta keep the ladies swooning, eh?
One more. In. Out. And then Matthew returned the handles to their position, slumped back against the machine and let out a little sigh. Fuck, his arms were aching. He had glorious, glorious water down at his legs, under the seat he was sitting on, but at this rate he was just gonna make a fucking mess of himself. Man, he couldn’t wait to take a shower. Just, uh… Fifteen or twenty minutes more of gym time, and then that was him done for the day. And then, a haze of whatever he felt like doing until bed, and then school! God, he had missed all his friends and the cute girls and shit, but he totally didn’t miss all the commies. It was like, you could smack one down and then two more would rise, preaching the gospel of some dead German dude from like, one hundred and fifty years ago. It was like some kooky fucking religion, man.
After a few minutes more rest, Matthew reached down, grasped the bottle of water unevenly by the cap, brought it up to rest on his lap, got a better grip of it, then uncapped it and drank. There was some sciency thing one of his friends had linked on the group chat, something about how it was scientifically proven that your body wanted water whenever it was thirsty after a good workout. Well, here you go, body! May have sort of made your arms go all Jello-like, but here’s some water! He let out a little scoff. Stop being a fucking dork, brain.
Taking a few more swigs of the water, Matthew recapped it and set it back into where he had taken it from, looking around the gym. He knew some of his friends came here as well, and sometimes he’d spot someone he shared a class with in school here, normally doing simple beginner shit. Sometimes he’d spot one of the commie gang here, most often the leader one who looked like she had never quite grown out of playing the communist theme song on the bus. He was surprised, honestly, because like, nine out of ten lefties he shit-talked on Twitter thought exercise was racist or patriarchal or like, some other stupid form of buzzword. Good taste, though. This was a small-ass gym, but it had a lot of good equipment, and it was close. Sure, if he wanted to, he could go down to Boston and find one that was bigger and had better equipment, but he wasn’t gonna take like, a 30-minute train ride, work out, then spend another 30 minutes going home.
Eh, he could afford to take a break. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Matthew switched off his do not disturb, sent a couple replies to his friends, and then pulled up one of his food websites. His arms weren’t as shaky now. Maybe he could actually make something more like, complex than a stir fry when he got home.
never skip leg day fellas 😎
Open!
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Applesintime
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Dominiqua was 15 minutes in on the treadmill. Her favorite music was blaring through her earbuds. Her iPhone, that played said music, was in the cup holder to her left. She envisioned an endless road in front of her as she jogged. The treadmill’s speed was at five, while the incline was at two. She had her water bottle in the cup holder at her right side.
She felt the adrenaline rushing through her body as the song continued. Her mind was elsewhere, totally zen. The burn she felt in her legs was refreshing. Dominiqua kept herself focused on her imaginary road, canceling out any distractions that might have impeded her exercise.
She was now 17 minutes in. She took a sip of her water, and placed it back in the cup holder. At about 25 minutes, she’d, slow her speed and cool down, eventually stopping. For now, she’d enjoy this bliss of speed.
She felt the adrenaline rushing through her body as the song continued. Her mind was elsewhere, totally zen. The burn she felt in her legs was refreshing. Dominiqua kept herself focused on her imaginary road, canceling out any distractions that might have impeded her exercise.
She was now 17 minutes in. She took a sip of her water, and placed it back in the cup holder. At about 25 minutes, she’d, slow her speed and cool down, eventually stopping. For now, she’d enjoy this bliss of speed.
The school gym, like much else about the athletics department was ellipses-here underwhelming. Sad! And low energy.
|| Ashlyn Graves, Thread 3 ||
Ash used it anyways, of course, but there was a depressing lack of weight equipment so there was only so much she could accomplish. There would come a time when her efforts to fundraise a new set of equipment for all of the nonexistent space in the school for a properly setup gym would come to fruition. Said time would be the year after her matriculation to her backup safety school of choice, a state of affairs that would be the sum total of her luck. Luck being one of those skills she'd never put much work into honing her edge in.
Sports bra and sweats, typical gym fare for her. Men many times her senior used this gym and probably stared, but she derived a certain craftsman's pleasure in reducing them in her field of vision to the small and weak-looking things that they were. She'd just showed up, intent on cardio today. Entrance to the gym was opposite end from the treadmills, small enough that one could almost reach out and touch one area from the other. Not even an exaggeration. Ash looked immediately towards the treadmill she always used because habits, or maybe because unconscious superstition, and-
Familiar face taking her favorite spot. Dominiqua was one of the less meek voices among many among the school's motley crew of meatheads, AKA, Ashlyn's people by dint of her compensating-for-something obsession with the physical and the sweaty. Hard to argue with, which was a plus in her favor. It looked like she was still at the apex of her run. Ashlyn would just as soon impose herself onto a thirsty lion treading for a waterhole, and she might've died about as fast in either case. In this case because she'd have honor killed herself for violating a cardinal gym rule: leave everyone the fuck alone.
For the most part, anyways. Between the two familiar faces in the gym Matthew was the one she had less regard for by far, but he was OK enough that she could raise a hand and not bother to move it side to side for a proper wave. Maybe she'd caught his eye, even. She might've gone that far. She moved with efficiency and grace, mostly the former because she was pretty much as clunky looking as a tin man on a yellow brick road. The treadmill she picked out skipped one from Dominiqua's, the middle out of five available. A series of dynamic stretches, one-legged, Ashlyn casual and stoic despite the brief loss of her center of gravity. Not too many- stretches before a workout were overrated.
|| Ashlyn Graves, Thread 3 ||
Ash used it anyways, of course, but there was a depressing lack of weight equipment so there was only so much she could accomplish. There would come a time when her efforts to fundraise a new set of equipment for all of the nonexistent space in the school for a properly setup gym would come to fruition. Said time would be the year after her matriculation to her backup safety school of choice, a state of affairs that would be the sum total of her luck. Luck being one of those skills she'd never put much work into honing her edge in.
Sports bra and sweats, typical gym fare for her. Men many times her senior used this gym and probably stared, but she derived a certain craftsman's pleasure in reducing them in her field of vision to the small and weak-looking things that they were. She'd just showed up, intent on cardio today. Entrance to the gym was opposite end from the treadmills, small enough that one could almost reach out and touch one area from the other. Not even an exaggeration. Ash looked immediately towards the treadmill she always used because habits, or maybe because unconscious superstition, and-
Familiar face taking her favorite spot. Dominiqua was one of the less meek voices among many among the school's motley crew of meatheads, AKA, Ashlyn's people by dint of her compensating-for-something obsession with the physical and the sweaty. Hard to argue with, which was a plus in her favor. It looked like she was still at the apex of her run. Ashlyn would just as soon impose herself onto a thirsty lion treading for a waterhole, and she might've died about as fast in either case. In this case because she'd have honor killed herself for violating a cardinal gym rule: leave everyone the fuck alone.
For the most part, anyways. Between the two familiar faces in the gym Matthew was the one she had less regard for by far, but he was OK enough that she could raise a hand and not bother to move it side to side for a proper wave. Maybe she'd caught his eye, even. She might've gone that far. She moved with efficiency and grace, mostly the former because she was pretty much as clunky looking as a tin man on a yellow brick road. The treadmill she picked out skipped one from Dominiqua's, the middle out of five available. A series of dynamic stretches, one-legged, Ashlyn casual and stoic despite the brief loss of her center of gravity. Not too many- stretches before a workout were overrated.
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Applesintime
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Glancing up from his phone, he looked around again. Alright, so he could note like, two people here that he actually knew - well, he only sorta like, actually knew one of them and that was Ashlyn, the sister of the weird furry one who looked like she'd start crying if you looked at her. She was chill with him, though, enough to raise a hand in his general direction as he entered, which he returned. She wasn't exactly like, best friends with him, but she wasn't an asshole and she wasn't a commie, which made her good in his book. He doubted that he was ranked high in her book of friends but eh, you win some you lose some. Just gotta roll with the punches and all that. Sometimes she showed up at his parties with her boyfriend or whatever, the only good leftist in the whole wide world, but she normally just stuck to herself and like, Matthew wasn't the kinda guy to try and poach another dude's GF. That's just a dick move, man.
Watching her get onto the treadmill, which was pretty easy and didn't look weird because the machine he was using was facing the treadmills, he noted the girl next to her was uh. Dominika? Dominiqua? It was Domin-something, and he couldn't actually figure out what it was precisely because they had never actually talked before and he only faintly remembered her because they shared a class together. Anyway, he had no reason to talk to her or generally note her existence, because she didn't go to his parties or really move in the same circles as he did, but most importantly because she was probably in a runner's high right now and if you interrupt that, also a dick move. Plus, she had earbuds in.
She was also one of the sporty ones, but you know what, JEM didn't have a football team and so he just sort of ignored the whole sporty aspect. Sure, he was sure the people who did swimming and track and field were cool and all that but they were about as interesting as watching paint dry. What's the fun in just watching a bunch of guys run around a track or swim in a pool? Watching the individual ways they ran or swam? It wasn't something like wrestling or baseball or football, where it was dynamic and active.
Anyway, enough internal monologues. Matthew had more sets to do. So, wrapping his hands around the handles, he started to push again. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Watching her get onto the treadmill, which was pretty easy and didn't look weird because the machine he was using was facing the treadmills, he noted the girl next to her was uh. Dominika? Dominiqua? It was Domin-something, and he couldn't actually figure out what it was precisely because they had never actually talked before and he only faintly remembered her because they shared a class together. Anyway, he had no reason to talk to her or generally note her existence, because she didn't go to his parties or really move in the same circles as he did, but most importantly because she was probably in a runner's high right now and if you interrupt that, also a dick move. Plus, she had earbuds in.
She was also one of the sporty ones, but you know what, JEM didn't have a football team and so he just sort of ignored the whole sporty aspect. Sure, he was sure the people who did swimming and track and field were cool and all that but they were about as interesting as watching paint dry. What's the fun in just watching a bunch of guys run around a track or swim in a pool? Watching the individual ways they ran or swam? It wasn't something like wrestling or baseball or football, where it was dynamic and active.
Anyway, enough internal monologues. Matthew had more sets to do. So, wrapping his hands around the handles, he started to push again. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
19 minutes into her run, Dominiqua took another sip of her water. Dominiqua’s iPhone playlist switch to another song, this one just as energetic as the previous. She was in the zone. That imaginary road looked even longer than before.
20 minutes in, Dominiqua cranked the speed up to 5.5. Her heart raced. Time to push herself to the limit.
20 minutes in, Dominiqua cranked the speed up to 5.5. Her heart raced. Time to push herself to the limit.
Three minutes passed, maybe four. Ash felt limber now, comfortable enough with the warmth in her body to dance like a puppet on a string. Everyone was keeping to themselves and doing their own thing, suited her just fine. Nothing wrong with spinning bantz out of a chance encounter, she did that all the time, but there were edicts unwritten as to gym conduct. Put the weights back on the rack, bunny back in the box, so on. Gains in silence with her comrades sounded like a good time to her, awkward as it might have seemed on a metatextual level.
The treadmill came to life, smoothly humming unlike the sus stuttering wheeze of the secondhand machines Ash had been evaluating as possible school gym equipment. Trees whose shade she would never sit in, probably because she'd be dead before the year was out knowing her luck. Ash liked to warm up at a jogging pace, and the belt looped itself under her at speed while she began to drink in the bonfire glow of adrenaline, carefully controlled burning until it satisfied.
Or until the land was salted and all the oil was spilt into the sea, so on. In this case the latter, when Ash tripped like the idiot she was.
She didn't see it coming until her reflexes had already done most of the work for her. The gym's dull colored wall was mutilated into a fetching shade temporary blindness as her trainers screeched against the rubber underfoot. The machine that had a second ago felt solid underfoot had the sudden structural integrity of nausea.
Her upper arm- right in the skinniest part where there was the least muscle protecting the bone- had been tagged in to take the hit instead of her forehead. Left her awkwardly collapsed onto her side, legs playing a second of footsies with the treadmill belt before she finally got her wits about her and threw them to one side so she wasn't dragged off the treadmill totally.
"I'm okay." Said to nobody and said on instinct. Not entirely accurate either, the word ouch came to mind. Not a particularly existential epithet either, this was literal and actual pain, shooting through her nerves at an unappetizing tempo of too high, all while she stoically tried to recover and wondered idly if anyone had seen.
The treadmill came to life, smoothly humming unlike the sus stuttering wheeze of the secondhand machines Ash had been evaluating as possible school gym equipment. Trees whose shade she would never sit in, probably because she'd be dead before the year was out knowing her luck. Ash liked to warm up at a jogging pace, and the belt looped itself under her at speed while she began to drink in the bonfire glow of adrenaline, carefully controlled burning until it satisfied.
Or until the land was salted and all the oil was spilt into the sea, so on. In this case the latter, when Ash tripped like the idiot she was.
She didn't see it coming until her reflexes had already done most of the work for her. The gym's dull colored wall was mutilated into a fetching shade temporary blindness as her trainers screeched against the rubber underfoot. The machine that had a second ago felt solid underfoot had the sudden structural integrity of nausea.
Her upper arm- right in the skinniest part where there was the least muscle protecting the bone- had been tagged in to take the hit instead of her forehead. Left her awkwardly collapsed onto her side, legs playing a second of footsies with the treadmill belt before she finally got her wits about her and threw them to one side so she wasn't dragged off the treadmill totally.
"I'm okay." Said to nobody and said on instinct. Not entirely accurate either, the word ouch came to mind. Not a particularly existential epithet either, this was literal and actual pain, shooting through her nerves at an unappetizing tempo of too high, all while she stoically tried to recover and wondered idly if anyone had seen.
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Applesintime
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- Joined: Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:46 pm
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In. Out. In. Out. He was already working up a sweat again, and it felt good. There was some sort of sciency reason for that; your body releasing the feel-good chemicals whenever you exercised, and that was sort of the whole reason behind the runner's high, right? Your brain likes you running, so it makes you feel good so you do it more. It was pretty fucking cool, really, how the body just sorta encouraged you to exercise so you'd get healthier. God bless whatever ape had that feature.
Ash was running, Dom-something was running, he was working out, it was all like three well-oiled machines, each working to make sure that they were at the peak of their physical fitness. He didn't get why people just stayed in their home all day, playing video games and shit instead of going out and improving themselves, when working out, exercising, it made you feel good and feel healthier. You never sleep better after a good workout.
And then the machine spluttered to a halt as Ashlyn fell over on the treadmill right in front of him. In between reps, Matthew just managed to finish this last one before springing up - well, more like slowly getting up off the seat - and walking over the few feet to the treadmill that she had been occupying before her fall from grace, offering her a hand up.
"Shit, you alright? Looks like that musta fucking hurt." Her arm looked like it hurt. Now, this probably wasn't like, proper gym protocol, because you sorta just leave everyone to their own little fiefdom unless there's some dude who clearly needs help 'cause this is his first visit to the gym, but he did know her, and aside from the whole being a good person and helping someone else out thing, this would probably help him inch up a page in her good books. Of course, that wasn't the whole reason, but it was a pretty good motivator.
Ash was running, Dom-something was running, he was working out, it was all like three well-oiled machines, each working to make sure that they were at the peak of their physical fitness. He didn't get why people just stayed in their home all day, playing video games and shit instead of going out and improving themselves, when working out, exercising, it made you feel good and feel healthier. You never sleep better after a good workout.
And then the machine spluttered to a halt as Ashlyn fell over on the treadmill right in front of him. In between reps, Matthew just managed to finish this last one before springing up - well, more like slowly getting up off the seat - and walking over the few feet to the treadmill that she had been occupying before her fall from grace, offering her a hand up.
"Shit, you alright? Looks like that musta fucking hurt." Her arm looked like it hurt. Now, this probably wasn't like, proper gym protocol, because you sorta just leave everyone to their own little fiefdom unless there's some dude who clearly needs help 'cause this is his first visit to the gym, but he did know her, and aside from the whole being a good person and helping someone else out thing, this would probably help him inch up a page in her good books. Of course, that wasn't the whole reason, but it was a pretty good motivator.
Dominiqua was feeling the burn when through her earbuds, which had been blaring music into her ears this whole time, she heard the sound of something, or someone falling.
Dominiqua paused her treadmill, setting her feet on the sides of the machine. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Ashlyn on the ground, and Matthew helping her up. She was a bit annoyed that her workout was interrupted, but she didn’t want to be a jerk about it.
“Woah, what happened?”, Dominiqua said, breathing heavily.
Dominiqua paused her treadmill, setting her feet on the sides of the machine. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Ashlyn on the ground, and Matthew helping her up. She was a bit annoyed that her workout was interrupted, but she didn’t want to be a jerk about it.
“Woah, what happened?”, Dominiqua said, breathing heavily.
'Help, I've fallen and I can't get up'. Thus went the dress rehearsal for the golden old woman years Ash was definitely never living long enough to actually get to.
Both her classmates had, in the in-between of time where she'd been stuck in a liminal space shaped like her own acute agony, come to her side. Honestly heartening, with Ash not quite dead enough inside (brought a bit closer, as of nearly cracking her head open on a treadmill) to be cynical about friends by some definition standing by one another's side. Ash even smiled in her usually kinda-smirky, confident and or smug way up at her rescue team, then promptly wincing because somehow her lips were connected by her nervous system right to the funny bone she'd just hopefully not snapped in half.
"Still hurts, but nothing I can't get over."
Maybe. She didn't want to make a show of checking if her arm still worked though, but it felt a bit stiff. Athletics injuries were one and a dozen and all the same with the kind of lifestyle she lived, so a bruise could be a broken bone could be something torn, with Ash unsure if she'd be benched for a season until she got an expert to take a gander while she regaled them with her favorite homecooked morbid japery. 'Did you hear about the patient who declined his own autopsy', so on.
Her not-banged up hand found Matthew's, she took it firm enough to support herself and no more so she wouldn't drag him down with her.
"Not sure how I fell." Quick appraisal, the treadmill belt- still busily whirring away for the person no longer on it- looked free of trip hazards and was operating smoothly, her own shoelaces were tied. "Just a clumsy accident, I guess." Which was generally out of character, but everyone had their moments. No big deal. "But yeah, thanks guys! Sorry for making a scene." She nodded emphatically, and avoided glancing down at her arm to draw attention tp how nasty it looked from a third-person point of view.
Both her classmates had, in the in-between of time where she'd been stuck in a liminal space shaped like her own acute agony, come to her side. Honestly heartening, with Ash not quite dead enough inside (brought a bit closer, as of nearly cracking her head open on a treadmill) to be cynical about friends by some definition standing by one another's side. Ash even smiled in her usually kinda-smirky, confident and or smug way up at her rescue team, then promptly wincing because somehow her lips were connected by her nervous system right to the funny bone she'd just hopefully not snapped in half.
"Still hurts, but nothing I can't get over."
Maybe. She didn't want to make a show of checking if her arm still worked though, but it felt a bit stiff. Athletics injuries were one and a dozen and all the same with the kind of lifestyle she lived, so a bruise could be a broken bone could be something torn, with Ash unsure if she'd be benched for a season until she got an expert to take a gander while she regaled them with her favorite homecooked morbid japery. 'Did you hear about the patient who declined his own autopsy', so on.
Her not-banged up hand found Matthew's, she took it firm enough to support herself and no more so she wouldn't drag him down with her.
"Not sure how I fell." Quick appraisal, the treadmill belt- still busily whirring away for the person no longer on it- looked free of trip hazards and was operating smoothly, her own shoelaces were tied. "Just a clumsy accident, I guess." Which was generally out of character, but everyone had their moments. No big deal. "But yeah, thanks guys! Sorry for making a scene." She nodded emphatically, and avoided glancing down at her arm to draw attention tp how nasty it looked from a third-person point of view.
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Applesintime
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Dom-something was also looking down at Ash, but didn't actually seem to want to do anything to like, help her out, which didn't exactly color her in his mind. He got the runner's high was something that you don't wanna come out of too early, but bro, a girl has just fallen down beside you. At least like, make a token effort to actually do something, you know? Ash still smiled/smirked at the both of them, as if her falling over was funny, but then again, maybe she had just hit her funny bone.
Anyway, Ashlyn took his hand and Matthew pulled her up to her feet with ease, oohrah. God bless his own vain desires to look good for the girls and also to be strong for his football team. They weren't the only reason, no, but he would be lying if he said they weren't big motivators. But enough about him and his motivations for working out, he had saved the day, yadda yadda, and hopefully Ashlyn wouldn't be just so uh, cordial with him from now on.
"Hey, don't worry about it. Everyone wipes themself the fuck out at the gym from time to time, and that's why you have people like me, to pick people who fall on the treadmill up. It's a natural synergy or something." He accompanied the joke with a light chuckle, hoping to sort of draw her mind away from it, because he knew it must be embarrassing to wipe out so hard around other people, most of whom you probably don't know. At some point in the future this'd be the subject of teasing and jokes, something they could both look at and laugh about, but right now it probably sucked for her.
He did manage to catch a glimpse of her arm, though. Ouch. That looked sore. "Hey, do you want me to, uh, I think the guy here has a medkit somewhere, the guy at the reception," But he was already off, jogging towards the reception, dodging his way through the maze of other people walking around, stepping off machines or just standing in the way for some reason, as if they had forgotten they had came to exercise and were instead conversing as if they were at the neighborhood barbeque.
Anyway, Ashlyn took his hand and Matthew pulled her up to her feet with ease, oohrah. God bless his own vain desires to look good for the girls and also to be strong for his football team. They weren't the only reason, no, but he would be lying if he said they weren't big motivators. But enough about him and his motivations for working out, he had saved the day, yadda yadda, and hopefully Ashlyn wouldn't be just so uh, cordial with him from now on.
"Hey, don't worry about it. Everyone wipes themself the fuck out at the gym from time to time, and that's why you have people like me, to pick people who fall on the treadmill up. It's a natural synergy or something." He accompanied the joke with a light chuckle, hoping to sort of draw her mind away from it, because he knew it must be embarrassing to wipe out so hard around other people, most of whom you probably don't know. At some point in the future this'd be the subject of teasing and jokes, something they could both look at and laugh about, but right now it probably sucked for her.
He did manage to catch a glimpse of her arm, though. Ouch. That looked sore. "Hey, do you want me to, uh, I think the guy here has a medkit somewhere, the guy at the reception," But he was already off, jogging towards the reception, dodging his way through the maze of other people walking around, stepping off machines or just standing in the way for some reason, as if they had forgotten they had came to exercise and were instead conversing as if they were at the neighborhood barbeque.
“Oh wow, yeah, you should get your arm looked at,” Dominiqua said.
She noticed Ashlyn’s arm about the same time as Matthew. She wasn’t a registered nurse or physician, but didn’t look too severe. Nothing a bandage and some ointment won’t fix. Dominiqua had her fair share of spills on the treadmill, and that resulted in some nasty scrapes.
“Does it burn or feel sore?,” Dominiqua asked, “It just needs some cleaning up. You know, to prevent infection.”
She noticed Ashlyn’s arm about the same time as Matthew. She wasn’t a registered nurse or physician, but didn’t look too severe. Nothing a bandage and some ointment won’t fix. Dominiqua had her fair share of spills on the treadmill, and that resulted in some nasty scrapes.
“Does it burn or feel sore?,” Dominiqua asked, “It just needs some cleaning up. You know, to prevent infection.”
Still hurt: least relevant fact of the matter. Ashlyn hadn't lived a life not really worth living this long to make a big deal out of it all of a sudden.
"Feels fine, Dom. I didn't even notice it was bleeding until you mentioned." That was something Ash couldn't help but notice, how oddly inconsistent the speed of blood could seem depending on what spot on the body was torn open. Also on the shape of the wound- in this case a shallow trench, an angrily red patch about the size of the treadmill she'd bodily made love to. It was a bunch of factors one could process with enough adrenaline and cool minded apathy towards their own physical torment, so on. Ashlyn should have been bleeding more than she was. She'd have to ask someone smarter than herself, smart as in actually smart, not just her version of getting good grades because she tried way too hard.
But yeah, it was looked nastier than it was. Smoke and mirrors and special effects, like Drag Me To Hell or some other rent-a-cop. Ash noted with some meditative calm the onset of awkward, the word used to describe the feeling of wanting to not necessarily be left alone but to also stop being the center of attention.
For that reason Ash sympathized with Kitty's dude of a cat, Mister, not because there was any lost love between the two but because Ash couldn't imagine being unironically fawned over while being a natural killing machine in mind and body. Seemed incongruent to not be taken seriously when being an actual threat.
"I'll get it myself if it's still looking bad in a minute, no worries Matt." Ashlyn needed somewhere to sit, and that wasn't going to be any of the equipment because she wasn't an inconsiderate jackass, so with a bit of turgid weight to her step as her eyes were dizzy with pained anti-equilibrium she started for the lobby of the gym. "You should keep on the look out for others to rescue, while you're at it." She rolled her eyes and smiled at once, both modes of expression picked on purpose.
"Feels fine, Dom. I didn't even notice it was bleeding until you mentioned." That was something Ash couldn't help but notice, how oddly inconsistent the speed of blood could seem depending on what spot on the body was torn open. Also on the shape of the wound- in this case a shallow trench, an angrily red patch about the size of the treadmill she'd bodily made love to. It was a bunch of factors one could process with enough adrenaline and cool minded apathy towards their own physical torment, so on. Ashlyn should have been bleeding more than she was. She'd have to ask someone smarter than herself, smart as in actually smart, not just her version of getting good grades because she tried way too hard.
But yeah, it was looked nastier than it was. Smoke and mirrors and special effects, like Drag Me To Hell or some other rent-a-cop. Ash noted with some meditative calm the onset of awkward, the word used to describe the feeling of wanting to not necessarily be left alone but to also stop being the center of attention.
For that reason Ash sympathized with Kitty's dude of a cat, Mister, not because there was any lost love between the two but because Ash couldn't imagine being unironically fawned over while being a natural killing machine in mind and body. Seemed incongruent to not be taken seriously when being an actual threat.
"I'll get it myself if it's still looking bad in a minute, no worries Matt." Ashlyn needed somewhere to sit, and that wasn't going to be any of the equipment because she wasn't an inconsiderate jackass, so with a bit of turgid weight to her step as her eyes were dizzy with pained anti-equilibrium she started for the lobby of the gym. "You should keep on the look out for others to rescue, while you're at it." She rolled her eyes and smiled at once, both modes of expression picked on purpose.
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Applesintime
- Posts: 462
- Joined: Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:46 pm
- Location: In a magical place
Of course, Matthew didn't hear Ashlyn's snarky comments, as he was on the other side of the gym, talking to the guy behind the counter. He retrieved a medkit from under the counter, pulled out some stuff and handed it to Matthew, who proceeded to jog back to Ashlyn and Dominiqua.
"Alright, there's some, uh, some disinfected bandages or whatever the fuck he called them, I dunno all the medical words. Shouldn't need to operate, at the least." He let out a faint chuckle, giving Ash a smile. "I'm guessing you probably want to like, patch it up yourself, but if you need me, I'll just be like, over here." He pointed behind him, in what was probably the direction of the machine he had just came from.
Giving Dom-something a nod, he headed back to the machine he had come from and started to work out again. In. Out. In. Out. Crisis averted. Day saved, yadda yadda, thank god that he was on the scene, otherwise who would have saved Ashlyn's arm from a small cut? Very important work, he was doing.
"Alright, there's some, uh, some disinfected bandages or whatever the fuck he called them, I dunno all the medical words. Shouldn't need to operate, at the least." He let out a faint chuckle, giving Ash a smile. "I'm guessing you probably want to like, patch it up yourself, but if you need me, I'll just be like, over here." He pointed behind him, in what was probably the direction of the machine he had just came from.
Giving Dom-something a nod, he headed back to the machine he had come from and started to work out again. In. Out. In. Out. Crisis averted. Day saved, yadda yadda, thank god that he was on the scene, otherwise who would have saved Ashlyn's arm from a small cut? Very important work, he was doing.
Dominiqua nodded back at Matthew as he made his way back to the weight machine. She looked over back at Ashlyn.
“Need any help with that?,” she asked her, “I’ve got some experience patching up wounds like that.”
Dominiqua reached over for her water bottle, which was still in the cup holder of the treadmill she was using. She took a swig of water.
“There’s a bench bench over there,” Dominiqua said, as she pointed with one of her fingers holding the bottle.
“Need any help with that?,” she asked her, “I’ve got some experience patching up wounds like that.”
Dominiqua reached over for her water bottle, which was still in the cup holder of the treadmill she was using. She took a swig of water.
“There’s a bench bench over there,” Dominiqua said, as she pointed with one of her fingers holding the bottle.
Fuck, who was she talking to? She'd spent one moment sure someone was mumbling in the background and then she'd spent the next realizing that person was herself.
Revelation-like, the skies opening up and... okay Ash didn't know how biblical references worked. But as a card-carrying member of the collective unconsciousness, Ash felt acutely like she'd wandered into the endtimes, the last chapter of her story where everything went to shit to prove some karmic point about how she was a total asshole and hypocrite. Like she'd been expecting to happen all this time, of course, but not over a gym injury she would have brushed off on any other day that wasn't here and now and for unknown reasons.
Grumble grumble, the tl:dr, she was mildly upset all of a sudden because she was discombobulated and dizzy and she did not like the sensation of being so because normally she handled it but not here and now for some reason.
No grumbling aloud, of course. She shut up and played the part of damsel in distress as was apparently her new deal, FDR be praised.
A mumbled, non-distinct thanks in the form of a shake of the head to all involved as Ash spirited herself away with bandages in hand, still stoically eyes open as she counted the lights dancing between pupil and cornea. Deer in headlights, but only privately and to herself. When the dizziness passed on, so did she, onward to the purgatory called the rest of her senior year. She spared Dom and Matt a thought as she left- she was still embarrassed she'd disrupted their workout time.
|| Ash Graves, Thread 3 Ended ||
Revelation-like, the skies opening up and... okay Ash didn't know how biblical references worked. But as a card-carrying member of the collective unconsciousness, Ash felt acutely like she'd wandered into the endtimes, the last chapter of her story where everything went to shit to prove some karmic point about how she was a total asshole and hypocrite. Like she'd been expecting to happen all this time, of course, but not over a gym injury she would have brushed off on any other day that wasn't here and now and for unknown reasons.
Grumble grumble, the tl:dr, she was mildly upset all of a sudden because she was discombobulated and dizzy and she did not like the sensation of being so because normally she handled it but not here and now for some reason.
No grumbling aloud, of course. She shut up and played the part of damsel in distress as was apparently her new deal, FDR be praised.
A mumbled, non-distinct thanks in the form of a shake of the head to all involved as Ash spirited herself away with bandages in hand, still stoically eyes open as she counted the lights dancing between pupil and cornea. Deer in headlights, but only privately and to herself. When the dizziness passed on, so did she, onward to the purgatory called the rest of her senior year. She spared Dom and Matt a thought as she left- she was still embarrassed she'd disrupted their workout time.
|| Ash Graves, Thread 3 Ended ||