So-called 'New Guy' meets more people in the gym.
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1602
It's a break in the monotony for... well, more monotony, perhaps. Though there's no especial necessity for Yelena to work out on a schedule like many of the marines, she still does make time for it. If as much to keep up her dancing form as to set a proper example as a doctor. Then again, for all she drinks and smokes, it's probably more the former than the latter. She's by the mats, in leggings and slightly over-sized Colonial Fleet tee. It's not standard workout attire, but the sweatpants just don't provide the right range of motion. The Lieutenant is currently going through a range of stretches; seated as she reaches for bare toes. She's ignoring those working out around her; eyes closed as she goes from arms reaching overhead into a languid lean. The long day has her still kinked up and it shows. Muscles are bunched and she looks tired.
Geoff is known to do different kinds of workouts at the gym. Sometimes he comes to spar or hit heavy bags, sometimes he comes to hit the elliptical, and sometimes he comes with music to work out a dance. Usually not during peak times, but he doesn't make a secret of it either. This is one of those latter times, so he's got a speaker and portable music player in hand. He spots Yelena. "Hey."
The blonde looks up as she's spoken to. There's a portable music player on an armband by her hip, but the earbuds lie coiled next to it. She just draws her leg in to curl by her as she leans back on one hand. There's a slight twinge of her cheek before she shifts, relieving the pressure on her hip. "Hey. Geoff, right?" It takes her a few seconds to recall the marine's name, but recall she does. "Haven't frozen your ass off out there yet, I see."
"Yeah," Geoff says, squinting at her. "I was drunk when we met, right? I forget your name. Sorry. It's not, like...personal. I remember you were cool, though."
"You were," Yelena answers, sitting up straighter. She takes a deep breath, reaching behind her so that she can go into a spinal twist. "Am I? You gave me rules for doctors, though I passed at least one because I smoke." She laughs, letting out the breath as she goes into that twist. A couple vertebrae crack and she looks relieve, slouching somewhat. "We spoke about dancing." She looks to him, then: "Yelena Reznik."
Geoff looks up thoughtfully and nods. "That sounds like me," he agrees. "Yelena," he repeats. "Yeah, now I remember. You were, like, real-trained. Serious dancing and shit."
"Yeah," Yelena says, flashing Geoff a brief smile. "Ballet, until I went to med school." She extends her legs again, taking a deep breath as she tries that stretch once more. "So long ago, though. I'm quite rusty now." There's a regret to her voice, but she lets it go as she stretches. In the wake of stretching her spine, she's able to reach her toes more easily now.
"You musta been one of those bright-future achievement kids," Geoff hypothesizes, setting down his speaker. "I think most memories that are in the body, they don't take that long to wake up."
Its an offtime for the gym but that doesn't mean that its entirely dead. Case in point as yet one more figure makes his almost lazy way in the door. Its the New Guy, as one person put it. New guy who also happens to be a local. Hunter has that half-smile on his face he usually does, one might say he's almost incapeable of being entirely serious. Towel over one shoulder he strolls in and stops as he spies the pair of dancers. "Evenin!" He's a friendly one. "Not intrupting anything am I?"
"Lords, no. No. Bright future's the last thing anyone should ever, ever use referring to me." Yelena shakes her head, adamantly. Her ponytail bounces with the motion. Good emergency doc she may be, she's not even the best sawbones the Dauntless has to its name. She's just good at not balking under pressure. The woman turns to look towards Hunter as the man approaches. She squints, trying to recall the face, then it dawns. Ah-ha! "Got anymore beer?" Alcohol'll do it.
Geoff looks over his shoulder and blinks at Hunter. "What, 'd we get a new shipment?" he asks, since he doesn't remember having seen Hunter before. Then he glances back at Yelena, and returns his gaze to Hunter. "What, you dispense booze?"
There is a laugh from the pilot. "Yeah, I'm a new guy. And yeah, I can...occasionally...mystically aquire actual good beer." The Picon native replies in a drawl. "Or booze of your preference. I mean I do take requests. Depending on whose making them." A flash of a grin. "Names King. Hunter King, I'm just good at findin' things. Well...and good at not crashing my Viper /too/ many times."
"And if you do crash, you'll potentially end up in my care," Yelena offers to the pilot. She smirks, though she doesn't get up. "If you keep me in booze, I might even make sure you have morphine." The woman casts a glance to Geoff. "When he moved in, he had a box of beer. Was hoping there might be more. I don't have time to go into town tonight."
Geoff looks this Hunter King up and down, both intrigued and suspicious. "Uh-huh. Well, I ain't got a premium budget so maybe I'm not the one to do a sales pitch to." He looks at Yelena. "Isn't he s'posed to bring enough to share with the whole class?"
"Sales pitch? Come on now, mate. I'm not tryin' ta sell ya snake oil!" Hunter replies with a mock wounded look towards Geoff. His eyes hide laughter. "And I had plenty to share...with the people there. I can likely get my hands on some more, when I'm not flying patrol at least. Since I used to live round here." His eyes shift towards Yelena for a moment as he starts to amble towards the climbing wall. "And I won't complain if I end up in your hands. Promise," A smirk. "Booze for even better pain killers seems to be about an even trade."
"I've had few complaints over the years, 'New Guy,'" Yelena offers as she watches Hunter start his way towards the climbing wall. "I don't even have cold hands." She looks down to them, lifting them from the mat. "Well, not that I've been told." There's a flash of a grin and she shrugs for Geoff. "You should have been there when we were all moving in. Sorry. Just make a deal like I am." After another few stretches, she decides to push herself a bit, moving one hand to either side of her hips as she rotates; one leg 'fore, one back. It takes a moment but, yes, she ends up in the splits and then stretches to reach her toes again. Geoff may be right; the body remembers.
Geoff shrugs at Hunter with a sharp smile. "Just saying the guys I used to know who said they could 'get things' also used to say 'first hit's free,' ya know?" He looks at the clock on the wall. "Frak, I don't have much time left. I gotta get some practice in." He looks to Yelena. "Let's meet up here on purpose sometime, though."
There is a snort from Hunter. "Oh I don't go into that nasty stuff mate, we're all friends here ain't we? Chocolate, booze, toys and fancy effects though and most of the time I can get ya covered. Gettin' ta what ya talking about is jus' askin' for trouble." That is defintally the voice of experiance talkin. Though as Yelena starts her routine the pilots eyes widen appriciatively. "Well ya /are/ good ain't ya? Don't tell me I was intruptin' some kind of duet thing."
Fingertips wrap around foot and Yelena lets out a breath as she relaxes into the stretch. After a moment, she pushes back upright and gives Geoff a nod. "Sometime soon. Swing by the clinic one day with your schedule and we'll work something out." She turns, rolling her shoulders back as she looks to Hunter. There's a grin as she catches that appreciative look, an eyebrow arching in a somewhat teasing expression. "No, no interruptions. We've just got a hobby in common and we might work out together sometime. Ain't many in the military that know how to dance." And she shifts, rotating so that back is front and front is back as far as her hips and feet are concerned so she can stretch the opposite way; reaching for her foot once again.
Geoff rolls his eyes and chuckles. "All right, I'll hit you up when I want some bonbons, New Guy. Keep your head down, or whatever pilots do." He moves off to get some space for himself.
"Ahhhhh, well you got me there. I'm pretty sure if I tried to dance I'd fall over both my feet and manage to break half the furniture." A beatpause. "In fact I think that might have happened a time or two while I was drunk." His own steps take him closer towards the climbing wall, which seems to be his prefered destination. That look doesn't wane though as she continues, until he finally reaches said wall and crans his neck back to look up it. "Naw, I'm not bad with my hands though. I sculpt."
"A shame. Dancing can be quite fun, though I was a ballerina. Often a solo act and when I did have a partner, it was very, very important he be capable of not falling." Since the male in performances often had to be capable of lifting his female partner overhead. And should Hunter look away at the wrong moment? He'll miss something perhaps quite fun to watch. Yelena turns her torso to center and brings her legs together. That's not the fun part. The fun part is when she arches her back and reaches behind her, planting her palms against the mat. She does the same with her feet. And then presses upward in a fluid motion to bring her whole body into an arching figure. "What is your preferred medium?"
He /almost/ misses that. Almost. But he doesn't. In fact Hunter sees that last flip and arc so well he /almost/ misses the first level of the wall as he makes a grab for it. His fingertips catch though as he hauls himself off the ground, dangling just slightly. Attention diverted from the next set of climbing hooks for a moment. "Flexibl--I mean...er...steel!" He recovers gamely at least. Hanging on as he answers the question. "Metal and stone really, family were salvagers so there was always plenty of metal to practice on."
"Metal?" Yelena sounds surprised. Enough so that her attempt to flip herself up and over is stymied and though one leg makes it up in the air, the other goes and... then everything is tipping sideways and the Lieutenant topples over onto the mat with a dull thud. She lets out a small groan and rolls to her knees, lifting her right hand to rub at her left shoulder. She lets out a small, frustrated sound. "How do you sculpt stone?"
"With a chisel, a lot of time and by being more stuborn than the rock. All of which I used to have." Hunter replies with a shake of his head. At the thud though he looks over his shoulder, eyeing where she fell. "You alright?" He asks before he adds. "Metal is easier, at least if you do it the quick way with a welder." A smirk. "Glass is hardest, but can be the most fun. And most painful."
The woman rotates her shoulder a few times before getting to her feet. She approaches the rock climbing wall slowly, glancing up it with a mildly incredulous look. "I thought you blew glass," Yelena says finally. She does not try to scale the wall, but finally props one leg against it. She gets it almost completely vertical, with forehead almost to her calf. Ballet. "Not sculpt like the others."
As he starts climbing in earnest the pilot adopts a smooth motion. Never quite sitting still for long as he pulls himself higher and higher as he glances down to see the woman practicing below him. "You know if I fall we both might end up in the infirmary." He says with a touch of amusement there. "Though yeah, traditionally glass is blown. But you can sculpt with it too, you take small tubes, sticks really, and can heat them up. Twist them together. Make little things out of them. Time consuming and molten glass /hurts/ if you drip it on you but its fun if you have the time and equipment."
"Then don't fall," the Tauran answers bluntly. She does, however, drop her leg and shuffle a few steps to the side before moving to stretch the other similarly. Yelena is quiet as Hunter explains. "I would imagine it hurts. The melting point of glass is enough to cause third degree burns." She leans into the stretch for a moment; forehead to shin and hands upon the wall before she lets it go and hops back a few steps to simply watch the pilot in his climb.
"Well I don't /plan/ on falling..." The pilot replies as he starts to make it closer to the top. And finds himself at an awkward angle for the next leg of his trip. He decides of course to try anyway before catching Yelena bending double to touch her shin. He misses the grip by inches and finds himself dangling awkwardly by one arm and one leg for the moment as he scrambles in an undignified manner to maintain his place on the wall. "Oh yeah," Between grunts of him attempting to find purchace again. "Hurts like hell. But its rewarding if its done right. Least it brings a smile to a face when they see the finished product. Not that I've had a chance to practice lately."
"War makes it hard to find time for much of anything," Yelena admits in a droll tone of voice. "My main hobbies these days are drinking, smoking, and reading while I partake of the other two. She moves a short ways; remaining on the mats under the climbing wall, but (hopefully) out of range should Hunter fall. She sits, returning to her stretches. One has her end up on her back, legs in the air and arms stretched to either side for balance. Her legs cross, then spread wide in a V, then cross again. If that's not distracting (albeit a rather classic ballet stretch), one might be hard pressed to know what is.
While dangling from one hand above a mat offers Hunter a good view of the room. It also offers Hunter a good view of the room. "And distracting perfectly innocent pilots as they are trying not to look like an idiot." He mutters under his breath as he flails one harm to stabalize himself. He /almost/ has it.
But not quite.
He misses the grab by a hairs-breath as his eyes widen and he feels gravity take hold. Back downward towards the ground to land in a rush of air on the matt. Lying flat on his back as he stares up at the ceiling and tries to figure out just if everything is still attached right. Thankfully it seems to be.
"Ouch." A few seconds pause. "Whelp. I think thats enough making a fool of myself today!" He says, not quite sitting up yet. "And I think those are fine hobbies to have in a time like this. Simple and to the point."
She's not expecting him to fall, so Yelena's jump to her feet is a bit stumbling. She gets to her knees alright, but it's a sort of hop-stumble-step before she's running to Hunter's side and dropping to her knees again to check on him. She is, after all, a doctor. She may have been a ballerina at some point in time, but years of medical school, residency, and now field work with the Legionnaires and Colonial Fleet have shaped her into someone else most of the time. Much of her hair has come loose of its pony tail; bits of dirty blonde tendrils loose around her face.
She doesn't touch the pilot just yet, but her hands hover over him as she takes visual inventory. "Take a breath for me," she instructs first, watching him. "Don't move. Just tell me where it hurts."
He breathes as requested, and nothing seems to be damaged though. At least nothing serious. There is a smirk on Hunter's face as he looks up towards her and shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure the only damage is to my pride." The pilot replies with a chuckle as he starts to sit up. "Sorry to intrupt your warmup there. I sware I don't usually fall." A smirk once again. "So much for me going on about my talented hands eh?"
When Hunter goes to sit up, Yelena offers him a hand. Satisfied enough that he's unharmed. "Usually I work out in the mornings anyway," she explains. "I was mostly just working out the kinks from my day. I got out too late to go into town and I don't want to sit around the barracks. Dorms? What do we call those buildings anyway? The Hotel?" She flashes him a brief smile. Sitting back on her heels to give him space, the doctor shrugs. "I don't think the climbing wall is meant for sculpting, so your talent is wasted on it."
"The Hotel," Hunter says after a moment. "I like that one. Makes it seem more like a vacation than a war doesn't it?" The pilot moves slowly, wincing at a new set of bruises. Though as he said, it seems mostly just damaged pride than anything else. "What do you read?" He asks abruptly as he starts to shift to stretch his back just slightly, testing to make double sure nothing is actually secioursly damaged.
It seems like its safe enough to move at least. There is a grin though as he hadds. "Yeah, I think you're right. No appriciation for the arts that wall. I'd teach it a lesson if it didn't just beat me in a fair fight. It has the advantage of gravity."
"It also has the advantage of height and might actually be more stubborn. I'd say hard-headed, but it hasn't got one." Yelena tries to mask a look of concern as he begins to stretch. She leans back on her heels, draping her hands against her knees. "I read Tauran literature. And romance novels. You know, the usual." Except the former isn't, at all. It's usually quite political, full of death and despair and really quite dark and droll stuff.
There is a slight wince but there doesn't seem to be anything dangerous. No pops and snaps thaat shouldn't be there. No sudden pained flashes of expression. Instead he slowly sits up, bracing himself with his arms behind him. "You know, from what I remember of Tauran literature. Those two things are just about polar opposites." He points this out with a smirk. "I had a few friends in the Legion that loved to argue about it."
"Well, y'know, need a palate cleanser every so often." There's a bit of a grin. "Mostly the romance shit you find in the military is so over-the-top ridiculous that you might as well classify it as comedy. They take bodice ripper literally sometimes." Yelena pushes to her feet, offering a hand own to Hunter. "You were in the Legion, too? I was a Legionnaire myself for... a year? about before I got transferred to the Fleet."
Hunter takes the offered hand up, not to proud to take help when offered it seems. Even if its from a sawbones. The pilot just shakes his head. "My sister was the one that read those, not me. So I have no idea, I'll take your word for it." There is a pause though before he nods. "I was in the Legion for a few years, seemed like a good place to...reinvent yourself." A smirk. "And then a war went and broke out aand ruined all my non-existant plans."
Brushing some of those errant strands of hair back once Hunter is on his feet and she has her hand back, Yelena snorts faintly. "I feel as if that's the only reason the Legion exists. To give us poor folk a place to reinvent ourselves." She doesn't pry, nor does she ask. Even if it's surprising for the Picon to have sought out such a thing. "I joined after the war began. Guess I thought I might avoid it altogether." She gives a sort of helpless shrug. "Not much of a fighter."
Tilting his head slightly to one side to watch the action the pilot has to smile. "All sorts of reasons for it, but...its not a bad place to start over." A smirk. "Of course in my case it was because a large man named Sergei thought I owned him money." His eyes twinkle and the truth of that story is enitrely suspect right off the bat. That story may indeed change from telling to telling. "Not everyone has to be a fighter. Nothing wrong with that." He adds with a wink towards her. "But now that you've landed here, I guess you're stuck with the rest of us." A smirk. "And all us folks you patch back together just have to be happy you don't have cold hands. Come on though, lets get outta here before I make more of a damn fool of myself. I /might/ be able to scrounge up a few lost bottles of something or other. Though as a warning, it'll be warm."