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The gyms, training facilities and running paths of Deus had a roster a bit like that of a country club: some people visited to try it out once in a while but for the most part it was the same crowd every day. Bix was one of them and he was a creature of routine. He went jogging at the same time every morning, followed by weight training and on alternating days, weapons training.

He currently jogged briskly along the campus path with measured breathing. The pale man was sweating more than normal as he was burdened with layers of sunscreen since the weather was somehow the 'nicest' it's ever been. People looked at him like he was crazy when he said he missed the fog.

The sun was wearing his coat but it was belted and unzipped, hanging around his waist. He probably didn't need to wear it as often as he did but it had become habit to always put it on. The black tee he wore was like a sunspot on the glaring white of his jogging form.

Bix wasn't too much of the competitive sort so when a girl came up beside and and attempted to pass, he shifted slightly to the side to allow it. Of course Mina tutted him in his mind, a displeased hiss that he allowed some other person to show him up in anyway.

It's just a jog. He affirmed, amused.
The serpentine voice pouted, and like a girlfriend she put on the voice thatwas sure to work on him. It was a sad, girly, mopey sort of tone. You never do anything for me anymore...

Bix, knowing precisely that he was weak for his women (and yes his weapon was one of the only two that truly mattered), sighed and shook his head at his own weakness.

The man checked his watch and then put on a little speed to once more come even with America. The red head was cast a bit of a challenging smile.

Bix was more of an endurance runner than a sprinter with long strides that helped him cover a good amount of distance. He unabashedly grinned at America's wink, not one to make an effort in hiding his joy. He put on more speed, also not quite to sprint speed. This he could manage for a while but when it came to sprinting she may outpace him.

His manly pride, however slight, required him to make an effort to not look like he was breathing hard. He wasn't really but even the slightest bit of effort was being hidden as much as he could. Gotta be a tough guy.

Was this track and field now? He'd never done hurdles. In fact he'd never even exercised much before Deus so he wasn't super well versed in anything besides jogging. The benches threw him off slightly but he now was determined to finish out the race, even if he lost.

Bix veered to follow, taking the first bench easily but losing a step behind america. He made an attempt to put on a burst of speed and reach the second row in front of her but in his enthusiasm didn't time his jump right ended up having to push off the top of the bench, leg extended in a visually pleasing leap.

"I got nothin!" Bix laughed aloud to America. There was no way he could match or even do anything to compare to that handspring. Instead he just dug in, sprinting to pull even with her. The pale man was reaching his limit though and the alarm on his watch started to ring indicating it was time for the gym.

But they were headed in the opposite direction.

"YEAH-heh.." Bix laughed a little, finally slowing since he'd gracefully admitted defeat. "I can't do backflips.. or anything.." The sun panted.

"We can always rematch.." he clicked the alarm on his watch and nodded back towards the buildings. "Chinup competition?" He'd totally win okay. but didn't expect her to agree to it.

His hands planted on his hips and he breathed, walking it out.

Bix was already stretching out his arms as they headed back towards the gym. He was determined not to lose this one.

"Pretty sure anything with more than one Sun hunter is nakama bonding." Bix didn't quite grasp that they could be taken many ways so just continued cluelessly along, pink faced and eager for competition. He wasn't the most competitive by a long shot, but he did enjoy seeing what some of the newer recruits (especially since there were few friendly ones) were capable of. "Don't see you around here often.. at least not in the gym or track. What's the occasion?"

"I was thinking of setting up a ranged training run in the jungle. Like in Brave when she rides that horse through the forest hitting targets? Something like that." Bix held up a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of sun on glass as they approached the door. He held it for America like a gentleman. "It can be dangerous out there," Bix shrugged as if it were no big thing, "but what isn't? I miss the fog. Were you here then?"

Before you could see the gym you could smell it and feel it in the air. Their noses were assaulted with the aroma of bodies and sweat mixed with the leather of weight bench seats and heavy bags. It all mingled together with an unnatural warmth, elevating everything to a certain level of ripe that you could only get from musclebound devotees grunting away their daily worship of weights. Clanking and yells of encouragement sounds drifted through the door as Bix held this one open as well for the lady.

Everything seemed to give off a sheen, the metal and the bodies and the leather. Even the mats on the floor had spaced out wet spots from hunters sit ups, crunches, and other tummy tightening exercises. The beautiful tropical weather wasn't helping the heat inside but the patrons would probably argue the merit of 'sweating it out'.

"They should move some of this outside.." Bix laughed. "Like a prison yard or muscle beach."