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((ooc: BRB, having lunch @ 3@ just needed to sign Tro up))

Petro wasn't running late. No, no he wasn't. How could you even think that? Just because he was one of the (if not the) last students to sign up on the roll-call sheet didn't mean he was late. It simply meant he was one of the (if not the) last students to sign up on the roll-call sheet. He had arrived on time, dressed to exercise, which frankly was how he always dressed. Namely in just his loincloth but he never once felt under-dressed and he wasn't about to start feeling it now.

He looked around and saw familiar faces, which instantly made the eager grin on his face even wider. Rather than approaching any of the machines, the monster horse instead began stretching and warming up.

He snorted, then laughed. "Well I suppose I'll have to thank her, then." He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Riley being such an influential presence. Yaya he was used to, the two ghouls were damn near attached at the hip, but Riley was pretty much an unknown. Still, she was here, and he he really couldn't be anything but happy about that. They spent plenty of time together, but he wasn't about to say no to more, that would just be silly. No, he was happy to see her.

As he came to a stop beside the now still treadmill he looked down at the back of Junko's head, brows pinching in amusement at her question. "Because, stealthy though you may be, bright green does not blend in with the walls, my dear." He set her down, then slung his arms over her shoulders, standing behind her. Brows twitching at Bul. "What am I doing? I was fetching what's mine." He smirked again.

"You don't have to get on the treadmill yet, J," he assured her. Taking a moment to actually regard her outfit. He approved. Like her skirts, the shorts showed off a fair amount of skin, and he definitely had a weakness for those legs.

Did he look like he needed to be aggressive? How interesting. Mot eyed the treadmill, then the punching bag. Honestly, the punching bag looked better. No machiney things to deal with. For a gun nut, he sure seemed adamant about those machines. Maybe it was simply because it was fitness related. Sure, he was skinny, but not fit.

That punching bag might beat him better than he could beat it. How embarrassing would that be? Taken down by a bag.

Chirstof basically made it clear what Mot would be doing. Mot stared at the igor for a while, before gingerly taking the gloves. He looked down at them, wondering why gloves needed laces.
Stretch... yes, stretching.
Mot moved to a bench to put down his bag and gloves, favoring doing what he assumed was stretching.

She said nothing in response to Sammy's cheeky reply, and gave Shehk a knowing gaze. Don't worry, dear. It's an unspoken rule that none of the trainers should get physically inappropriate. Otherwise they won't be my trainers anymore.

A tentacle reached out and pinched her cheek gently. I, on the other hand, get to do what I like. It's good to be the queen.

That was enough chit-chat - almost everyone was here, and it was about time she started the meeting. She headed back to the front of the class, stood in front of a wall covered in mirrors, and leaned against a bar that was coming off of it. Then, a sound that would have reminded them of a whistle (if it wasn't coming from their own heads) signalled everyone's attention.

Listen up ghouls, I want all your attention front and center. Riley's voice was stern, and confident. Please come up here, take a seat on the mats, and keep chatter to a minimum while I tell you all about the wonderful world you've just signed yourselves up for.

Altair rubbed the sore spot on his ribs where Nuk elbowed him, his eyes snapping with anger now. He didn't immediately retaliate, not with more students filtering in and signing in, baring his fans at the skinwalker at his taunt, the pupils of his golden eyes tightened to slits, narrowing them. He tensed, taking a step towards him, pausing as Shehk came over to sit with him, looking her up and down, flicking his tail and quirking an eyebrow, glaring at Nuk.

"Watch your mouth, skinwalker," he hissed. "You talk big when you're around your friends, but you're too chickenshit to fight me one on one," he flicked his pointed ears back, sneering dismissively, turning to load a bar with weights, not even looking at Riley as she spoke, though he heard her words as she expanded her broadcast to include the room, starting to do lifts. He smirked a little as he glanced at Shehk instead. He wouldn't mind if she worked out in front of him. It was a frickin sausage fest in here.

As Riley spoke up again, he set down the bar and stretched his back with a yawn, scratching his hip as he went over to take a seat on the mats, keeping an eye on Nuk, bristling a little still.

Bul trudged his way to the front of the room and sat down at one of the mats Riley designated, looking back to Seiji and Junko and even Demi and smiled, silently offering them to sit near him. He couldn't sit very well with his legs crossed; they were too long. He folded them in front of himself and leaned against them then listened to Riley. His tail shuffled around on the ground until it found itself wrapped around him.

"Well, Riley, just use your power wisely."

Shehk grinned as best as she could while her face was fussed with, laughing a bit with a shrug, before looking at the mats in question, dusting her hands over her skirt before standing up and moving over to one of the mats in question, sitting down all obediently.

It might have been the canid in her genetics that made the obedience happen, Shehk offering a light wave in Christof's direction, then patting one of the mats next to her. Was she offering the patchwork a seat? Possibly. Never the less, she soon turned her attention up to Riley.

Had she noticed Altair had given her an appraising look? Probably. Then again, she was fully aware that she was showing off her legs like nothing else.

The most skin she showed at any times. If someone cared to look, she was also showing off her autopsy stitches just a little bit. Yeah. Lots of Pricolici flesh. Never the less, she seemed content, just sitting on her knees.

Had she purposely only left one seat next to her open on purpose?

She's late, she's late, she's late for such an important date! Grabbing her duffel bag that was slung over her shoulder, she practically raced down the corridor till she reached the club room. By the time she reached the room, her face was flushed from both embarrassment from being late as well as having to run.

When she entered, her grip on the strap of the bag tightened; they had already started the meeting? Hopefully she didn't miss anything important... Quickly, she jotted down her name on the sign in sheet before throwing Riley an expression that basically screamed "I'M SO SORRY" before flopping down on the mat, duffel bag on her lap.

She only know most of these people by name... That made her nervous somehow.