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 Posted: Thu Dec 22, 2011 10:53 pm
There had been a certain fiasco at a certain gym that had prevented Jett from performing a certain task—which was now putting him into a certain fix. Though Jett had very much enjoyed Venice’s company while testing out bags of different weights at the Kayo Boxing Gym, the massacring of one (albeit already well beaten) bag had left him reluctant to return to the scene, though he was very much in need of a new bag for his home gym.
…Except, a gym membership was way cheaper than replacing a bag, and with all the money he’d been spending on others, he didn’t have enough to splurge on himself.
There was a certain satisfaction of beating the s**t out of a bag in public; you were flaunting what you had to anyone that cared to look, and as long as you knew what you were doing, you looked good doing it. He hadn’t dressed in any particularly snazzy manner—just sweat pants and a tank top partially hidden beneath a half zipped up hoodie. It was something functional to keep warm and—hell, if he got too hot, he could always just shed a layer.
It was still relatively early when he arrived; though he’d had breakfast, he was already considering lunch. For far too long had Jett gotten into the habit of snagging fast food and he knew that, while it wasn’t outwardly showing, his arteries were probably so clogged up with cholesterol that he was going keel over any minute now.
Oh, well. Might as well look good doing it.
Despite still being relatively new to the gym, it hadn’t taken him long to find a place to settle in; not more than five minutes after showing up, he’d wrapped his hands, slid on his gloves, and comfortably begun hammering away at the bag in front of him.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 9:26 am
It might have been early, but Porsha was already well into her work out when the blonde showed up at the heavy bag beside her. Not that she noticed, not with her attention so narrowly focused on continuous pound of her fists against the battered nylon that covered the bag she was currently working over.
Her style was loose, and if it hadn't been for the accuracy with which her knuckles hit, one might have assumed she didn't know what the ******** she was doing. She didn't narrow her training down to one set technique or school of discipline, rather preferring to pull skills and training from any source she could, and that showed in the set of her shoulders, the placement of her feet, and the fluid way she moved as she swung her leg up to slam her ankle and the top of her foot into the top of the bag.
The tape on her hands was shredded, a clear indicator that she'd been at it for a while, but if that wasn't evidence enough the wild state of her hair and the sweat beading on her brow and chest certainly hammered the point home.
She didn't have a fancy pair of gloves like Jett's, she preferred the feel of her knuckles actually connecting with what she was hitting. They routinely looked as though she'd taken sandpaper to the backs of them.
As her leg lowered from the kick she finally took notice to the young man now working out beside her, and she watched him for a moment as she pulled a towel from the band of her shorts and wiped her face before dabbing at the few spots of blood welling up on raw knuckles. It wasn't the first time she'd over done it, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 1:27 pm
Jett had not missed the girl’s wild blows, nor the impact they had made on the bag she was hitting. He’d been watching her for a while, more curious about her form. He might have argued that she was a complete novice out to hurt herself, but that was something unique in the way she moved herself. It was no style that he knew nor could identify, but she gave much indication that she had been at it for a while. One look at her knuckles told him that she was above the pain her workout was giving her.
But that just made him more curious.
What girl had any reason to beat the s**t out of a bag to the point of making herself bleed? She certainly wasn’t here to attract the boys; she had taken no heed to the look of her hair and the sweat that she had accumulated was more of a repellant than anything. And yet, Jett was intrigued. He hammered at his bag for a few more blows after Porsha had stopped. He hadn’t worked up much of a sweat given that he’d been at this for far less time than she had been, and while he’d been pushing himself, this was just a routine and not any sort of escape.
Of course there were days when he’d pushed himself hard enough to hurt himself while training, but those were always bad days.
“Masochist, or do you always just train that hard?” he prompted, keeping his eyes on the bag as he swung twice more at it.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 1:44 pm
Porsha wasn't so much above the pain her work out provided for her, so much as absorbed by it. If it didn't hurt, if she wasn't pushing herself as hard as she could, then hammering away at the bag was nothing more then a waste of her time. The punkish teen had many faults, but she never slacked off on anything she felt was important. Power, gain img new strengths, those were important to Poe. She would be no one's victim, no ones stepping stone or whipping boy.
The towel was pressed against her knuckles, staunching the weak flow of seeping blood. Pale gaze still idly trained on the young man beside her and his own assault on the bag. He was good, clearly possessing more defined form then herself, but his heart wasn't in it like her's had been.
Porsha didn't fight to escape or vent, she fought to live, to feel alive.
His question had her looking down at her hands, then further down to her ankles and the bruises, new and old, that decorated them. There were bruises all over really, if he cared to look. Her arms, her legs, in all shapes and sizes, and it different levels of healing. When she looked up again she was smirking.
"It's not worth it of you don't push yourself." The towel moved as she checked the status of her knuckles. Apparently they'd stopped enough for her to remove t altogether, because the slung it around her shoulders, moving on to peel away the remains of the tape. "It could be a little of column A as well."
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 7:31 pm
“Mm,” Jett mused, lowering one fist and reaching up his other hand, still gloved, to steady the bag as it rattled from its chain. “Yes, I’d bet a lot from column A,” he mused aloud, quite willing to speak his mind regardless of social norms or expectations. “You don’t look like you’re giving yourself enough time to heal. I would imagine you’re making it harder on yourself by just beating yourself up like that. Supposed to let yourself heal a bit before tearing yourself down.”
The bag, no longer swaying, he dropped his other hand and focused his attention on the girl again. His eyes once more glanced over her; the bruises were obvious to anyone who was looking for them—and he was, in fact, looking for them. And was rather enjoying the excuse to glance over his form. It wasn’t that he didn’t already have a girlfriend to admire, but Jett wasn’t going to avert his eyes; it wasn’t like he had some intention to cheat, but—damn. It wasn’t often you met a pretty girl that could throw a punch like that. He was damn well going to indulge himself in admiring her.
Maybe even try to get Raven into some boxing or something.
Scratch that, bad idea. Raven was already too eager with launching an attack his way whenever he did something displeasing to her; he didn’t want her to actually do some damage one of these days.
“Pushing yourself is one thing, but from this perspective it mostly just looks like you’re seeing how much damage you can do to yourself before you fall apart," he mused, still not the least bit shy of sharing his opinion with the stranger.
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Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2012 8:50 am
She smirked, rolling her shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe." He was right though, she was abusing herself a bit with her training. She knew it, but she couldn't seem to go more then a day without pounding into something. Better a bag then a person. "You're right, I'm not giving myself enough time to heal, but this is what I love to do." She shrugged again, smiling as she picked more at the frayed tape on her hands.
A plum brow twitched upward as his eyes wandered along her body. It was a searching look, appraising even, and she had to bite back the question of whether or not he liked what he was seeing. He'd been nice so far, there was no reason for her to be rude. Besides, it wasn't as though she didn't like the attention.
Her smile faded just a little as he mentioned taking damage, and she glanced down at the bright array of bruises on her legs. "I suppose it may seem that way, but most of these aren't from me." She smoothed a hand over a particularly dark blossom of color on the side of her thigh. It was still tender. "It's not just the bags I like to work over, and other people tend to hit back." She was grinning again, chuckling faintly.
There had been a small thread of innuendo worked into her comments, nothing overt, but just enough to test the waters. He had been looking her over, and he was pretty damn hot. Not to mention the obvious skill he showed while hammering that bag. She was interested.
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Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2012 10:35 am
When Porsha glanced down to the bruises on leg, Jett’s gaze followed. When she brushed her hand over the dark bruise on her thigh, he wasn’t hesitant to let his gaze linger there. “I see.” It was almost difficult for him to draw his eyes back up to her face; he couldn’t help but admire her finely sculpted body. Stereotypical pretty girls were one thing—light weight, fair skin, thick hair. Jett, like any other specimen of his gender, was attracted to many different types of women.
But well toned—though not overly muscular—women were by far his favorite. She had a lithe body and good curves and Jett was still inclined to appreciate what he saw. Unabashedly appreciate what he saw.
Still, against thinking of her as ‘that vaguely masochistic, vicious, hard hitting creature over there, he decided to take the more social approach and offer introduction. “Jett Draven,” he said, gesturing slightly to himself. “And you are…?”
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Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2012 11:17 am
There he went with the wandering eyes again. And it wasn't like he was stealing covert glances periodically while she wasn't looking. No, he was making it pretty damn obvious he was checking her out. Again, Poe was struck with the desire to inquire if he liked what he saw. Aw hell, why not? If he wasn't going to be subtle, why the ******** should she be? "See something you like?"
And because turn about was fair play, the girl let her own eyes wander. Taking in the line of his jaw and moving downward to the nicely sculpted plains of chest and his stomach below.
It was a very nice view.
She looked up again when he introduced himself, the faintest of smirks blooming into life along plum lips. "Porsha Webber," she extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Jett." Her head tilted to one side as she watched him, expression gone softly thoughtful. "I haven't seen you here before, are you a new member?" Being as Poe was there most days, and friendly with the owner, she liked to think she knew everyone with a membership by face, if not name.
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Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2012 5:16 pm
Jett finally forced himself to stop admiring her form and once more locked eyes with the female in front of him. “I see a lot that I like, Porsha Webber.” He moved to grasp her hand—in a strong, yet not painful or unfriendly grip—and shook. “It’s a pleasure. Not entirely new, but you might as well call it such,” he answered, moving right on to her question. “I’ve been here a handful of times before, not for very long. Decided I needed a change of scenery and this place fit the bill well enough. I take it you come here often?” he prompted; it wasn’t so much of a question as an assumption he wanted to clarify.
She was very in shape, very bruised, and apparently was here enough to judge who was a new member, so he had to assume she frequented the gym. Which sounded just fine to him. Though, he might not try to bring Raven here any time soon; she seemed to get a little too overprotective whenever he spent too much time with another female. This seemed to be a bit more public and far less personal than the dinner with Harmon, though still didn’t seem like very good substance for a conversation with your girlfriend.
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2012 3:24 pm
The compliments did wonders for Porsha's ego.
When Jett took her hand for a shake she gripped his back just as strong, and if she held on a second or two longer then was socially polite? ...Well, he'd started it with the staring and flirting. For all Poe knew he was interested, and she rather liked the attention. Besides, he was very easy on the eyes, and if things happened to progress in that sort of direction, Poe wouldn't complain.
She listened as he mentioned having paying a few quick visits to the gym before, nodding. When he asked about her she grinned, crossing her arms across her chest. "Yeah, I practically live here. This place is like my second home. The owner, Carl, he even lets me stay late whenever I want to so long as I lock up when I leave." If she were a year older he'd be more then happy to offer her a job, but they didn't employ minors. She'd have to wait until next fall.
"Are you planning on picking up an extended membership?" She was very curious on whether or not she'd be seeing him on a regular bases. She rather hoped so, there weren't a whole lot of frequent visitors worth admiring, but that's what happened with small gyms.
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2012 10:15 pm
“Was considering it,” Jett replied when he dropped his hand to his side. The extended shake was pleasing, not because he had the hand of some attractive girl in his own but because he found himself once again pleasantly surprised by the girl. She had a good, strong handshake. It was refreshing that someone of the female population knew how to properly return a handshake. “There are a few other gyms I was thinking about investing my time and money in. Though this one obviously has certain…perks.”
He resisted winking at her, reminding himself that Raven would be furious if she found out. “But,” he drifted away from flirting and instead allowed his eyes to roam over the room and it’s occupants. “I’m starting to like this place more. It’s not very crowded, so no fighting over the equipment.”
Or the ladies’ attention, he assumed, though that wasn’t really something he was vying for at present. “A gym membership is cheaper than buying a new bag, anyway, and after the holidays my pockets are a little empty.”
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Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2012 7:52 am
Real women knew how to throw a killer right hook. They also knew how to deliver a proper handshake. When their hands parted she dropped hers back to her side, resting it on her hip as she listened to him talk. A pleased grin springing up as he mentioned their being perks to frequenting the gym they were currently standing in. She was sure of it now, he was definitely flirting with her. It was terribly satisfying.
For the moment she'd let him steer the conversation back to the gym and into less innuendo filled venues. "I don't think I ever see anyone jostling for a place at a machine or bag. We don't have a whole lot of members, but the ones we do have are very loyal." And old. Porsha was currently the youngest member. "The majority of the membership holders are a touch older, really there's a disappointing shortage of people around my own age," she tilted her head a fraction to one side, smirking. "Until you showed up."
The flesh along the bridge of her nose gave a little pinch at the mention of the holidays. Where as majority of people in their fine city celebrated the yule and coming new year happily, those that came from Poe's side of the town had little to rejoice. There weren't many presents, there weren't large dinners or parties. It was business as usual, and the plum haired teen was very happy they were coming to a close now. "Yeah, that does happen." Her pockets were always a little empty, so she certainly knew what he meant.
"You're right though, membership is cheaper." She was grinning again, and the hand not currently resting on the curved line of her hip came up to smooth her hair back from her eyes. "And there is of course those obvious perks you mentioned."
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 12:01 pm
“Of course,” Jett repeated, thin, charmed smile still teasing on his lips. He hadn’t given any indication that he’d picked up on Porsha’s indifference to the holidays and instead just glanced around the gym. Most of the crowd was older, but that didn’t seem like it was going to be much of a problem. He hadn’t held the intention of coming here to spar, so he wasn’t necessarily looking for a place filled with people closer to his age. Quite the contrary, he found he was rapidly growing fonder of the idea of a gym devoid of all the gym bunnies and people pretending like they knew what they were doing.
There were disadvantages, of course—he didn’t know many people, and with as small as the gym was, it looked like it was already a close knit group. But Porsha was friendly enough, and since when had Jett ever been intimidated by anything?
“Almost a pity this place doesn’t get more attention. You should go into marketing, Porsha. I think you’ve done a fine job of selling the idea to me. I bet you’d have more patrons here if you took the chance to talk them all up when they came in.”
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2012 8:52 am
Po smirked, responding to jett's easy charm, but she again let the innuendo and flirtation go. If he was interested, he probably wasn't about to just disappear on her, and if he joined the gym there would be ample time to get to know each other. She let their conversation remain on the gym.
"Almost," she agreed, grinning. "But I think it'd loose a lot of it's charm if it was busier. A lot of the appeal, at least for me, is that there aren't a s**t ton of members. It's never crowded, the equipment is a little old, but in great shape and always clean, and you never have to wait in line to get on with your work out." She shrugged, shoulders rolling.
"I'm glad you're solid on it though, I think it'll be nice having at least one other person around that isn't over forty." Not to mention easy on the eyes. No offence to the regulars, but they weren't exactly a handsome bunch. Sure, there were a few guys that looked okay, but they were up into that category known as "Silver Fox". Po didn't exactly sweat age, but there was a limit.
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Posted: Thu Apr 19, 2012 10:52 pm
A confidant, somewhat lazy grin remained on the blonde’s face as he continued to chat with the girl. He was used to gyms being a bit more bustling, but it wasn’t like the smaller environment intimidated or anything. It was nice to be away from everyone and see that everyone here wasn’t just coming to brag about it—or at least he assumed. And nobody was fumbling around, trying to awkwardly fit in; as amusing as it was, Jett appreciated people not getting in his way.
“I don’t mind providing a little company. Though I have to wonder, this place doesn’t exactly scream ‘hip, young hangout.’ Call it stereotyping, but you’re a pretty enough girl that it’s not like you couldn’t get by on those alone. What drove you to come here in the first place?”
The gym scene wasn’t exactly where he’d depict a normal teenaged girl—especially one that seemed to have made herself so at home here. Girls were supposed to be at the mall, shopping for shoes, gossiping for boys. Not slugging a canvas bag filled with sand.
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