Gym-time

Oct. 10th, 2006 04:05 pm
twiststheblade: (training)
[personal profile] twiststheblade
The problem with working ut 'au natural', as it were, is the lack of resistance. Miho isn't much of a one for weights training, and her stretching routine uses nothing other than her own body, but every now and then it's nice to have something that will fight back. And, lacking an opponent, at least something that will resist. She assumes that the gardeners, and some of the other patrons, might have something to say if she started beating up the trees.

The gym, however, has punch bags. So, she's squared up against a heavy hanging bag, and a dull, fast

-thunk-

-thunk-

-thunk-

sounds out round the room. The bag quivers on its ropes, but it isn't going anywhere. She's fast, though, obscenely fast. And accurate. She has to remind herself that, unlike when she is sparring with the air, the bag cannot stand up to repeated hard blows on the excat same square inch of fabric.

It is possible to burst a punch bag. It's difficult, but it can be done. And she thinks that she might find herself rather unpopular if she covered the floor of the gym in stuffing. So she bounces lightly on the balls of her feet as she strikes, moving around the bag.

Date: 2006-10-11 01:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
And Goldy looks back, expectant eyebrows on a hard dark mask. When it becomes obvious that nothing is going to be forthcoming, she purses her lips disfavorably.

Date: 2006-10-11 03:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
It's nothing she didn't already know, or at least have an inkling about, but the effect of the words is palpable. Goldy's uncompromising set wavers for a few moments, and then softens slightly. Her gaze falls to the floor as she assimilates the confession and request, and forms a response.

"I have been patient. Uncharacteristically so."

There's still a bite in her voice, but now it's more like a chilly Fall breeze than an Arctic blast.

"I know who and what I am."

She looks back up, cupping her cheeks in her hands, and finds Miho's eyes.

"I'm intolerant. I'm bolshy. I'm a bitch. I'm not cut out to be in love, and yet I undoubtedly am. I'm not cut out to be a doting girlfriend, who is understanding and compassionate and always around when she's needed for a hug or kind words. However, with you, I have really tried to be."

As poor as those efforts may seem in retrospect, she has truly been giving a hundred percent.

"And apparently, that is not good enough."

Date: 2006-10-11 04:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
"I think we have already established that this is all new territory for both of us. You're not the only one who is fucking up."

Her face twists in grim resignaton.

"I just... don't think I can offer, or provide, what you need right now."

And maybe she doesn't actually want to. She's fed up with the moping—the moping about uncertain circumstances that aren't even going to occur for forty or fifty years. And in her mind, those circumstances are still better than those which most mortals get to enjoy.

"Not properly. To do so would be to change my very nature."

Date: 2006-10-11 05:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
"No."

"I'm just telling you how it is."

The ball is in her court, essentially.

Date: 2006-10-11 05:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
"I appreciate that."

Unfortunately, Goldy cannot echo that sentiment. She does manage a glimmer of a smile though. Compromise is good.

"The situation is not ideal, and I'm sorry for that. But what relationship is ever perfect?"

"We seem to have mutual liking, and respect, and love."

She wonders if that is enough, but there are no outward indications of such doubts.

"It seems crazy to bog ourselves down in worries about the future. Especially when the future is so flimsy in a place like this."

Date: 2006-10-11 06:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
There's a nod and a fuller smile.

"Deal."

There's a twinge of regret at the choice of word once it's out in the open. But, again, it's not evident on her face. Hopefully Miho won't think too deeply about it, because she didn't mean it that way.

It's still a curious choice of word, perhaps, given that Goldy is quite aware that she hasn't actually compromised anything herself.

Date: 2006-10-11 06:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
Perhaps, indeed.

After a few moments of somewhat resolved silence, Goldy reaches for the handles of the pec deck and starts to pump the pads again. She doesn't really have anything to add on the subject.

"You had better fix that punching bag," she notes without segue, "or Raph's going to be after you."

Date: 2006-10-11 06:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
whirrr

clank

Cheeks now flaring a touch at her exertions, Goldy lets out a strained chuckle.

"Well... no..."

Date: 2006-10-11 06:43 pm (UTC)
v_knidh8er: (Glasses)
From: [personal profile] v_knidh8er
What looks like solid plaster is really a series of panels. Most people don't see the seams because...well they're not supposed to.

The damaged panel lifts out of the ceiling revealing a blackness that is blacker than the blackest night.

A small man wearing clothes of a similar black begins to descend through the opening in the ceiling.
He's suspended on wires.
He's also bright orange of complexion.

Seriously folks, Mission Impossible ain't got nothing on these Loompas.

Date: 2006-10-11 06:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
CLANK!

Weights are released rather too abruptly.

Goldy has never seen them either, so she stares as well, though perhaps not with quite as much wonderment.

"Now that's efficiency for you."

Date: 2006-10-11 06:54 pm (UTC)
v_knidh8er: (Glasses)
From: [personal profile] v_knidh8er
Down...
...down...
......down he goes. He's doing his best to not pay any attention to the women in the room. Bigjobs are just a distraction. Besides, the faster this is done, the quicker he can get back to his tea.

Childsized hands reach out for the now disconnected rope of the heavy bag.

Date: 2006-10-11 06:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
Goldy has absolutely no qualms about just watching. It's cute! ...And also a bit creepy—not that she has any problems with creepy, per se.

She reaches under the seat and grabs her bottle. Water will have to do in the absence of popcorn.

Date: 2006-10-11 07:06 pm (UTC)
v_knidh8er: (Glasses)
From: [personal profile] v_knidh8er
Oh.
Great.

This one's trying to help.
Fantastic.
He couldn't look more thrilled, oh no wait...he could.

If she really wanted to help she wouldn't have broken it in the first place, now would she? He sighs, rolling his eyes.

Once he's got the rope firmly in one hand, the other goes for a clip at his belt.

Date: 2006-10-11 07:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
Taking a gulp from the bottle, Goldy snerks at Miho. Then wonders what the Loompa is going to do when he's got the bag up to ceiling level, since he's hanging through the damaged panel, and there's now nothing to hook it to.

She's never quite accepted Milliphysics.

Date: 2006-10-11 07:18 pm (UTC)
v_knidh8er: (Glasses)
From: [personal profile] v_knidh8er
He snickers as the Helper retreats.
A good smirk can go a long way, and in this case we mean that quite literally.

Once he's clipped the rope to his belt, he looks up towards the hole and whistles.

He whistles Dixie to be specific.

At once the ceiling begins to peel back, panel after panel, until there's a hole large enough to accomidate the gentle swinging of the now suspended bag.

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