Weight room

OOC: (God, I hope I get a letter... LOL)

Dr. [REDACTED] wrote:OOC: (God, I hope I get a letter... LOL)

(OOC: I just posted the 'official' order in the Euclid thread)

-She casually picked up a weighted bar in her right hand; her left hand wrapped in medical tape. She slips and secures two large plates to each end of the bar and lays back on the weight bench.-

"What are you guys starin' at?"

-She began lifting and raising the bar to her chest, inhaling and exhaling evenly.-

"Gotta work on the mechanics sometime, eh~?"

-She winked at the boys and continued her reps.-

*Sweets enters in sweat pants and shirt and then begins exercising

-After about thirty minutes of weight training, she yawned an retired to the boxing area. Taking a step to the right of the hanging punching bag, she quickly began throwing quick, light, punches; which made an uncomfortably large impact on the bag.-

"Cold Day" enters the weight room, looking around as the other agents or fitness nuts go for the weights and medicine balls. She shrugs at this, going to an elliptical trainer and beginning a medium rate stride.

Mark McHarvy, walks around the room trying to find a place to work out. He comes upon an empty treadmill facing Cold Day's elliptical and dials it up to a steady long stride. He reached for his shorts pocket and cursed himself for forgetting to bring his mp3 player. He sighed and gets on. While running, his eyes ended up resting on Cold Day's as he trys to zone out. He feels awkward and decides to nod at the woman across from him.

She sneers when she finds him aggravated at the loss of his Mp3 player. The sneer curls into a smirk as she notices his eyes lock with hers. “What am I, Plan B?” She laughs in response to the nod as she continues her stride. She brushes a few loose grey strands out of her face. “What would you be listening to if you didn’t have the displeasure of talking to me?”

"Oh! Oh no. No. You aren't plan B," Mark says, stumbling on his words. She could tell he had a Dublin accent. "I actually wasn't even planning on talking with you until you said something," he admitted, suddenly wanting to shoot himself in the foot for saying that. "I was going to listen to Bon Jovi actually," he adds quickly hopefully getting her mind on his music taste.

She tracks each and everyone of his expressions in her head. Embarrassed, than honest, then mortified. She picks up the speed to suppress her laughter. “Pretty smooth,” She teases lightly. “Bon Jovi, huh. Not really my scene but I can dig it.” She shrugs, not breaking a sweat just yet. “1986 Bon Jovi? or some of their new stuff?”

He smiles, relieved that they are on the topic of music. Noticing that she picked up speed, taking it as a challenge and dials up his treadmill a notch.
"Oh the classic 1980's stuff. It's the kind of stuff you can yell out in public and someone else will yell the next line back at you," he says with a nostalgic look in his eye.

She notices him bring up the speed and passively increases her own to be only slightly faster than his. “I didn’t take you for the sort that yells out lyrics and expects a reply.” She smiles a half-smile as she rolls her shoulders. “But I get where you’re coming from. The kind of song that gives you that smirk when it pops up on the radio.”
Her pager beeps and she curses under her breath. Her pace slowly slows as she regulates her breathing. “Gonna take a rinse, then see what I can do about this.” She gets off and walks next to his machine. “Name’s Abbott, by the way.”

He smiles when she commented on his kind of music. "Yeah, like that."
His pager beeps at the same time as hers. As a result of that, he starts dialing down the speed on his treadmill.
"McHarvy," he replies as he gets off the treadmill. He checks his pager and heads out of the weight room.

"McHarvy... I'll keep that in mind." She says taking a mental note of the name and the face before exiting the Weight Room.