The Gym, Sunday Morning

[swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com]

A couple of weeks back, Dolf had splurged the last of his pocket money on something ridiculous to make himself feel better: a football jersey. He'd felt pretty stupid about it afterwards, considering the state of his finances, but there was nothing to be done about it.

He hadn't used it, either. It'd just been stuffed in his closet.

But he'd had a very, very long week, and he needed to relax; so for the first time, he yanked on his jersey and made his way to the gym. He rifled through the storage room for a good few minutes until he found a real football, and then he padded into the gym on his sneakers.

Within minutes, he was bouncing the ball on his knees and kicking it around the room, trying to scrub the rust off his football skills. It'd been far too long.

[[ open! ]]

Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday afternoon

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

After spending part of yesterday giving his equipment a solid field test as he learned how to fight a giant robot, Bruce felt that today was a good day for quiet reflection, a short break from training, and watching a couple hours of shows about real life crimes on the Biography Channel. He wasn't sure why there was a two hour block of crime shows between Finding Hulk Hogan and I Survived... or if this was a regular thing, but it gave him something to focus on and take notes about discreetly in a small notebook.

Yes, this is how he liked to spend lazy Sundays.

[OOC: Open CR!]