the gym; monday afternoon

[flickofthewrist]

After a long weekend, Flick felt like the gym was a necessity. After how said long weekend had gone, it had become imperative. He'd been in there each day and today was no different. Wasn't like he had anything else to do today, was it? Maybe it was good that he was down there since he'd just gotten progressively moodier as each day passed.

Hitting things generally helped sort that out. Not entirely but, for a little while, it gave him something else to focus on. Plus, maybe it'd help him work off some of that turkey and stuffing Joi had sent him home with. He was still eating it since she'd given him what seemed like an unending bowl of food. Not that he was complaining.

Nope, he was just going to beat the hell out of a heavy bag and maybe spend some time running laps around the gym. Or maybe he'd just beat the hell out of the heavy bag and go back to his room and be moody some more.

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Comments

[seveninchmotto]

Oh, great.

Isabelle supposed she should have seen this one coming. They did both have an alarming love of the gym, especially after annoying and aggravating events. But she'd somehow expected to find it empty, now that she'd made her way down with her hip and an array of knives.

Still, she marched into the room without hesitation.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick spared her a quick look when he heard someone march in and did nothing else. One quick look and then he was back to doing what he was doing, ignoring everything but his simmering anger and the bag in front of him.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle ignored him right back, like a mature person. She headed for the practice dummies, and set some of her knives aside on the floor.

Before running through a few drills that ended in stabbing a dummy in the chest with considerable force.

[flickofthewrist]

Such a mature show going on here, wasn't it? Flick wiped some sweat off his brow and kept going, fingers connecting harshly with the bag and pushing every other sound out of his head for the time being.

Focus. Focus.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was being perfectly mature about hacking and slashing this dummy to pieces! It was a bad dummy. It needed to be punished.

Yeah, maybe she was getting too far into it.

[flickofthewrist]

That, at least, wasn't a problem that Flick had. No ability to hack the heavy bag but he certainly was giving it a good enough beating that his knuckles and hands would be feeling it afterward.

He was still focused on that and only that.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was pretty focused too. After a moment, she put the knife aside and took out her whip. She walked further away from the dummy. She aimed. She sent the whip through the air with a precise movement.

When the dummy's arm came off, it seemed to fly almost halfway through the gym.

[flickofthewrist]

Well, it was pretty hard not to see something like that. Flick caught the flying arm out of the corner of his eye and almost smirked. Almost.

Instead, he stepped back from the bag and rubbed his knuckles to ease some of the ache he felt. He figured he was winding down for the day since his hands were starting to protest.

[seveninchmotto]

She was just getting started. The other arm came off just as cleanly as the first, and with just as much force and flair.

Guess whatever Magnus did to her whip had actually powered it up a little more.

[flickofthewrist]

Well, good for her. Flick stepped away from the heavy bag and went over to one of the benches where he sat down and started to flex his fingers and cool down.

He kept his eyes on the ground.

[seveninchmotto]

He could just listen to her take the dummy apart, bit by bit. She was being very thorough about it. And her whip was sharp.

It helped that she had no idea what she'd do once she ran out of dummy to torment.

[flickofthewrist]

And what a thorough ripping apart it was. Flick sighed and rubbed his hands until they stopped aching. Then, he took a towel out of his bag and rubbed at his head and arms.

[seveninchmotto]

The whip cracked in the air, then hit a spot on the dummy's chest with a sharp sound. Over and over again.

Guess she found something to do, after all. Some practice for her aim.

[flickofthewrist]

How lucky for her.

Flick was pretty much done with time in the gym. He stood up and rolled his shoulders before trying to stretch his arms and legs since he'd been in one position for awhile.

Almost time to go.

[seveninchmotto]

It probably didn't seem like Isabelle was paying any attention to him while she slowly dug a little dent in the dummy's chest with the tip of her whip. But she was. She was listening for any movements he might make.

She would've claimed that was part of her training session, just being aware of her surroundings, but really, it wasn't.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick finally made a move to get himself out of there. He put his towel away, rubbed his neck and picked up his bag.

He didn't see anything getting sorted and he didn't want to end up angrier then he already was.

[seveninchmotto]

"Leaving?"

She hadn't looked back. But she'd been listening.

[flickofthewrist]

"Yes. I'm done." Short and succinct.

[seveninchmotto]

"With?"

Well, it could be a loaded thing to say. Or maybe that was her suppressed guilt talking.

[flickofthewrist]

"The gym," he said blankly. He picked up his bag.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle finally stopped wielding her whip. She coiled it up while she turned around.

"Just that?"

[flickofthewrist]

"Is there something else I should be done with?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the far wall.

[seveninchmotto]

"No." She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She was looking at him, even if he wasn't returning it. "I don't think there is. I hope there isn't."

[flickofthewrist]

"Then, your question's answered," Flick told her, shaking his hand out.

[seveninchmotto]

"... Okay."

Well, this was going just amazingly.