The Gym, Sunday Afternoon

[brat_inslayage]

So. Kennedy had heard the radio last night. Part of her was bummed about not getting to go along, but another part of her-- adjacent to if not necessarily the same part that was pummeling the crap out of the heavy bag right now (or trying to; she still wasn't hitting that thing nearly as solidly as she wished she could)-- had a feeling it was a good thing she hadn't.

She'd spent a good chunk of the morning on the phone with Constance, who'd been way more than a little alarmed when Kennedy'd barely waited until hellos were exchanged to start in on a barrage of questions about people coming back from the dead, but had, to her credit, explained fairly patiently what a very bad idea that typically was. (In their world's terms, anyway, which of course were terms toward which Constance was pretty strongly biased, and Kennedy had been too agitated to pay much thought to subtleties like other worlds maybe not following those rules.)

She knew she should be glad, and maybe she was. Just... it'd brought everything back: the frustration, the trauma, the anger at being used the way they had. All of that drowned out the relief, and if it was petty of her she didn't care. She should be happier about this, but mostly, right now what she wanted was to go off on Raven for letting all of this happen-- not just to her, to all of them, but she was still selfish enough that she was furious about the part she'd had to play.

Here was where the wacky came in: she was actually aware of the fact that it'd be a bad idea to do that.

Thus the gym, and the heavy bag, and the trying to wear herself into exhaustion or just burn all the anger off. Probably not the most constructive use of her time, but she cared less about constructive and more about venting.

[[cranky potential is cranky, but open gym post is open! i'm still doing the con thing today so I may be slow, but free con wifi is happy. ironically i may be around more than i usually am on weekends.]]

Comments

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

Scully was aware that she hadn't worked out enough, lately, so was headed down to the gym to get some decent mat time in. She paused when she saw Kennedy kicking the crap out of the bag, and warily headed over to the free weights.

"Should I ask, or just wait for you to get done?"

[brat_inslayage]

"Do you really wanna ask?" Kennedy's belligerent side was out in full force today, apparently; the words definitely came out with an edge to them, and the crescent kick she aimed at the bag didn't discredit that impression at all. "It's not a talking-about thing. It's a hitting-stuff thing."

...only because hitting things was easier.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

Scully held up her hands in surrender, and said, "I won't ask, then. Just wait until the bag is subdued." She dropped her hands and picked up a five-pound weight. "If you do need to talk, I'd be willing to listen. But it doesn't look like time for that."

[brat_inslayage]

"Yeah. Thanks." Kennedy, lashing out with a backhammer fist at the bag, didn't sound all that grateful, though. "Kinda surprised you'd offer, but no big. Doesn't make enough sense to talk about just yet."

Kennedy, you can't pummel the bag until things make sense. It doesn't work that way.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

It wasn't the way Scully handled things-- she tended to analyze them to death-- but she knew enough frustrated FBI agents to recognize the coping mechanism. She started a slow curl of the weight to her shoulder, and said, "Well. We're not best friends or anything." Her mouth twitched at that understatement. "But you're-- hmm. Not a drama queen. If you're this mad, there's a good reason."

[brat_inslayage]

Kennedy's eyes narrowed, and she threw a flurry of punches at the bag. "Maybe. Maybe not. Quit--" Forearm strike, with a glare over her shoulder at Scully. "Trying to get into my head for it, will you?"

...oooh. Yeah, hello, still-touchy subject.

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

Scully gave her a curious look, because that hadn't been what she was trying to do there. Seriously, she wasn't the psych major. So all that got from her was another set of raised eyebrows, and another arm curl.

[brat_inslayage]

Kennedy was apparently going through all her bitchface icons today was just edgy and defensive today, that was all, and maybe the bag wasn't enough to lash out at. Still petty of her; she still didn't care.

...sorry, Scully.

A few more hits, then she took a break and reached out to steady the bag... and lean on it a little bit, okay, that too.

"Gym's not where I go to talk things out," she allowed with a shrug. "Though... not a drama queen, so thanks for that."

[showmetheproof.livejournal.com]

Scully could take it. Although not as well as she used to.

"Sure." Scully raised the weigh to her shoulder, and blew out her breath as she lowered it. "At least punching a bag doesn't get you arrested." She gave Kennedy a tiny smirk, then considered. "Would sparring help?"

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

Wes had noticed a definite note of unhappiness around campus today, so he was wandering all over the place. Because apparently he wanted to share in that unhappiness? Or something? It was a mystery.

Just when he was about to quit wandering and go read about giraffes in his room, he spotted Kennedy.

"I presume the bag did something to upset you?"

[brat_inslayage]

"It insulted my little sister," Kennedy deadpanned, kicking at the bag again. "Can't have that. Hey, Wes."

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

"Hello," he said, swinging his arms idly. "Does this, ah, have to do with the, er, rescue mission from last night?"

Because he was a creeper and listened to the radio. And also there was the Karla thing.

[brat_inslayage]

He was a Watcher, or had been; Kennedy expected him to keep tabs on these things to a creepifying level.

"Not so much the mission," Kennedy admitted grudgingly. "More the 'what now.'"

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

"Ah," he said. Right. Yeah. It was a mystery that had puzzled scientists for ages would puzzle the residents of a certain town in California for about a year many of his books struggled to answer: How to care for a recently resurrected loved one?

"I suppose... bag-punching? And, ah, space. I was telling Karla that." Self-citing, Wes, always the way to go

[brat_inslayage]

"You're about as much help as Constance was," Kennedy observed; it came out more acidic than she'd meant it to. "Okay, she did a lot more sputtering."

She shrugged, helplessly, and leaned against the bag. "Bag-punching seemed like a better idea than... um, the alternative."

Which had been throwing a bitchfit, but that sounded so undignified.

Because it was.

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

Well, hey, he was fired for a reason! A reason that had nothing to do with his counseling skills. Except that it kind of did. He wasn't such a great communicator, was he?

But yes, whatever the alternative was, Wes was sure that punching a bag was the better option.

"Right," he agreed, still swinging his arms awkwardly. "I mean, if you're really interested, I have a book on that kind of magic that talks a little bit about the aftermath and such. You could take a look at it if you wanted..."

As long as the book didn't get punched and thrown around, Kennedy.

[brat_inslayage]

Hey, hey. Kennedy didn't do that with books, thank you. She knew too many people who'd give her hell for it if she did.

...also they really didn't do much for her training that way.

"I don't know," she hedged. "I could, but I mean..."

She shrugged. She didn't really want to think that much about more complicated magics right now.

"Think I might just want to hit it out for a while longer. Books... not so much my thing, you know?"

[life_inshadow]

It was not a surprise at all that, when Kennedy wasn't in her room, she was in the gym, and Tara stood watching for a bare moment before she spoke up.

"You're going to collapse if you keep going at it like that," she warned. "Hi."

[brat_inslayage]

By this point, Kennedy was pretty damn close to it.

"I was kinda going for that," she admitted, easing off on the bag; a faint smile crossed her face for a moment. "Hey. Should've known you'd find me here."

[life_inshadow]

"You like your routine like that," Tara said with a little shrug. "At least being here is ... productive."

She leaned back against a padded section of wall. "Are you doing okay?"

She didn't ask if Kennedy had heard. It was safe to assume she had.

[brat_inslayage]

"Ask me in the morning; I'm gonna be so sore," Kennedy tried to crack, but it fell short of her usual humor. Also, it was a clear and uncharacteristic avoidance of the question.

"You, uh. You heard too, huh."

[life_inshadow]

"Radio," Tara said. "And then I talked to Dolf, and, uh, he pointed out I should probably call Raven before I bothered Jono or whatever -- just in case the s-squirrels were just being mean -- and she called back and..."

She mutely passed her phone to Kennedy after she'd hit the keys to bring up her most recent message. "We're having coffee tomorrow."

She sounded all kinds of uneasy about that one.

[brat_inslayage]

"That... sounds fun." Kennedy gave her a concerned look, but took the phone to listen to the message. "Oh, man. That's gonna be..."

Better Tara than her, honestly, even though she was concerned about how awkward it'd be for her girlfriend; she was still half convinced she'd yell a lot the second she saw Raven in person.

"You gonna be okay doing that?"

[life_inshadow]

"Yes," Tara said, brushing her hair back in a way that suggested she wasn't quite as confident as she was trying to sound. "She ... says she can explain? And Dolf can be a buffer if things get weird, kind of."

She shrugged. "Besides, it'd be weirder trying to avoid her forever."

[brat_inslayage]

"That makes you a better person than me," Kennedy said quietly; she recognized the gesture for what it was. "I don't think I'm ready to do that just yet. If you need me after, though..."

She figured Tara would know how to find her.