fandomhighdorms | The Gym, Tuesday Morning

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The Gym, Tuesday Morning

Chuck's only class of the day had been cancelled; that was fine with him. Meant he could keep his old training schedule more or less intact for the time being. Combat training, gym, sleep. Combat training, gym, sleep. Right now he was on the gym end of his schedule, lifting weights.

His arms still needed work. He was in good shape, but it could be better. It wasn't the kind of stuff that would land you in the cockpit of a Jaeger, but it was the basics. The only thing worse than coming back to Anchorage with sloppy combat skills was coming back to Anchorage and being unable to hit the basic exercise requirements.

There'd be no slacking around the common rooms for Chuck - at least not to the extent he'd seen other students do so so far. Just work. And weights.

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With things moving quickly back home, Flick figured that spending more of his time in the gym, beating against the heavy bag wouldn't be a bad thing. He'd need to prepare even if he was certain he was going to fail.

With time before class, he made his way down there, rubbing his knuckles just to get some blood flowing.

Flick didn't recognize the other kid in the gym this morning but that wasn't entirely unfamiliar. He didn't know a lot of people so he gave Chuck a nod before he found his way to the heavy bag and started stretching his arms.

Chuck didn't even bother giving him a nod back until about five lifts later, when it occurred to him that he probably had to at least pretend to be playing nice if he wanted to get out of here quickly.

"Morning."

There. That was enough niceness.

"Morning."

Flick didn't need a handshake and a life story anyway. Wasn't necessary for him. It'd just be boring anyway.

"Look like you've been here awhile," he added idly, taking a few warm up shots at the heavy bag.

"Got to get at it quick and early if you want to keep a decent schedule," Chuck grunted.

If by 'decent' you actually meant 'insane'.

"Yeah, I wish you the best of luck with that in this place," Flick scoffed, shaking his head. "Get into a routine and you'll find it gets ruined by something stupid raining from the sky or something else just as ridiculous."

Flick punched a little harder, having gotten himself loose and warm quickly enough.

"Then, you'll just wanna drink."

"Got a head start on that, mate."

What with his father who wasn't really his father or... whatever.

"But that's what the evenings are for."

"I should probably take my own advice but I'm not really a huge drinker," he shared casually, jabbing several times in quick succession before stepping back and bouncing from one foot to the next.

"Least there's a bar in town that doesn't care if you're fifty or five," he added. "Show up there and you can drink until you forget your name. Sounds like you figured that one out though."

Actually, Chuck had been fake-IDing his way through so far so-- "I hadn't, but it's good to know."

So he could hang around the bar right opposite his not-father, which would clearly end well for everyone involved.

"What's it called?"

"Caritas," he replied with a shrug of his shoulder. "There's another one, the Devil's Nest but I hear they card. Stick to Caritas if you want to drink and not worry about getting a lecture from any adults about the perils of drinking."

From what he'd seen, most of the barkeepers didn't give a shit. They got paid no matter what. "Seems to be open seven days a week. House band's a little...smelly but they're harmless."

"Smelly," Chuck echoed, shooting him a glance. "Right. Thanks for the head's up."

Flick had already been more helpful than most people he'd met so far.

"Any other tips?"

Will's lips thinned into a small smile and he shrugged his shoulders before going back to smacking his hands against the heavy bag, falling into a steady rhythm.

"Depends on what you're trying to get out of this place," he replied after a few seconds of silence. "You can pretty much steal any of the food in the common room and no one gives a damn. Always helpful when you're on a budget."

Or just liked stealing things.

Chuck stuck to his weights for a little while after that. Wouldn't do to come off too social. "Just here to waste some time," he shared eventually. "Not my choice."

"Familiar story." He'd been dumped here to hide, after all. "Can't just leave?"

Flick spoke the question as he threw punch after punch against the heavy bag, landing blows all along the bag. "No cage keeping you here, right?"

"I've got to stick with it for the semester if I want to get back to something that really matters," Chuck said idly. "So I'm sticking."

There was belligerent sarcasm on that last one, but not aimed at Flick.

"Oh, I get the feeling that you're just gonna love this place," Flick said, lacing his own tone with sarcasm. "They'll vote you onto the student council and you'll be running the dances in no time. Don't forget your glitter."

He smirked to himself and glanced over at Chuck before shaking his head.

"If I wind up at a dance, kill me," Chuck said. "Or at least make sure I've got a pint on me."

Flick snorted.

"If it helps, the punch tends to end up full of alcohol by the end of the night," he said. "So, if you do end up at a dance, at least you won't have to worry about the pint. Someone tends to take care of that for you. Then, you'd just have to deal with the glitter."

Stupid glitter.

"You weren't joking about the glitter?"

Euuuuuuugh.

"No."

Unfortunately not.

"I went to the last dance to prove a point -- " And because he'd had a date and all. " -- and ended up covered in it. Pretty sure some might still be on the clothes I wore that night. Even if you don't go, I'm pretty sure the glitter finds you."

"Jesus," Chuck swore. "What kind of insane circus did dad send me to?" How was this supposed to help, exactly?!

"That's not an uncommon sentiment," Flick said since he himself felt the same way. "My father dumped me here too."

For different reasons but still.

"Couldn't tell me why he did it," he added, smashing a fist against the heavy bag. "It doesn't help. Sometimes, you have a good day but most of the time, you just resent the fact that you're dealing with petty crap."

Maybe it was an exercise in turning Chuck into a social animal by sharing the misery around. Maybe.

"Four more months, then I can get out of here," he said. "I knew it was bad - didn't know it was that bad."

Flick snickered and fell quiet again, stepping back and stretching his arms after the lengthy time of punching and jabbing. Didn't want to cramp up or anything ridiculous like that.

"Guess that means you're not gonna go around making friends all over the place," he said sarcastically. "No sleepovers or late night movie sessions in the common room."

Chuck rolled his eyes as he moved on from the weights he'd been going at to the set-up closer to Flick. "When I said I was interested in wasting my time," he said, "I was joking."

"So was I," Flick told him dryly. "Some people here are interesting enough to hold my attention but mostly I don't care."

Didn't really feel the need to care about people and potentially have them end up dead because of it.

"Just watch out for the welcome wagon. There are some incredibly friendly people here."

"I haven't met them yet," said Chuck.

Mostly because Chuck himself didn't exactly inspire helpful behavior in people.

"But who needs 'em, right?"

Good lord, Flick, he was going to see a compatriot in you or something.

"Never did anything for me before."

As he'd just told Kathy last night.

"Probably won't do anything for me in the future," he continued. "The most important thing for me is me. And anyone that wants to hold hands and share with me is gonna be in for a rude awakening."

So, it was safe to say he and Chuck were cut from the same mold, yeah. Different motivations, same attitude.

Chuck snorted. "I'm training to look after other people," he said. "Keep their pretty selves safe so they can keep going about their lives."

Which clearly did make him superior to Flick. "That's all they should need from me."

A lot of people felt themselves superior to Flick. He'd learned to just let them have their delusions and not start an argument that would never end.

"You're not the first person I've heard that from," he remarked with a snicker. "Probably not the last either. It seems this place is full of world protectors and their massive egos."

You had one, Chuck. But, so did Flick.

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The Gym, Tuesday Morning

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