PHD 228: Hot Blooded
Hot Blooded
Summary: Randy and Dell meet in the gym to talk about why fists are better than words.
Date: PHD 228
Related Logs: None

Being the only person in the gym can have its advantages and one of them is listening to music. There is music playing in the room from an media player and this music is special, old and heavy rock and roll, the song playing now goes something like, 'Carry on my wayward son…' and Private Dell Triptolemus is at the weights working out without a spotter. There is a grunt as he hefts the weight up and down in a ten repetetion set.

This is a place that Randy visits very often. In fact…when not sipping on booze and sleeping…or actually working, she's here. The gym. Usually this time she can be alone but there are people. Well a person, and music and she snatches up a towel, sauntering towards the weights with a quirk of an eyebrow. Her voice is husky, gender neutral. "…dude, need a spot?"

It is possible Randy may have seen the new marine at the weights often these days since the gym is his second home. As he sets the weights back he sits up and looks at Randy as if trying to figure out the right personal pronoun to use and instead he responds with, "Dude, if you want to spot I'd be cool with that." He offers a hand to Randy and he grunts out in low barritone tones, "Private Dell Triptolemus. And you are?" After Randy shakes Dell's hand or After she doesn't shake Dell's hand his body goes back into position. The song playing finishes and the next song to come up is 'Thunderstruck' as Dell gets back into position.

Randy gives a quick chin-up in greeting as she moves closer and reaches out to take the hand, shaking it firmly with a flash of a grin. "Lance Corporal Cedris, and I don't mind spotting, if you don't mind returning the favor?" There's a hint of a mountain person's almost…country accent to that voice, but she hides it best she can. "I mean, good taste in music I figure you can't be all that bad."

Dell shakes Randy's hand and he settles into position he begins lifting and he says, "Well, my Pa raised me on the classics so I keep the tradition alive by listenin' to em." He says right before he starts lifting the weights and his eyes go toward the ceiling as he lifts and in roughly his fifth lift from his third repetition he says, "You from the mountains of Scorpia?" He doesn't say what he is asking but he continues to lift and after he finishes one repetition and he asks in dour but not unkind tones, "Also, am I supposed to salute now, sir?"

Randy quirks an eyebrow, moving to get into spotters position, cracking her neck and taking a deep breath. "Libris." He replies honestly. "And nah, don't bother with saluting, I'm just enlisted." She reaches out to take the weights after the repetition if need be. "And your pa had good taste then. You come here often with your music?"

The media player changes to 'Circle in the Sky' as Dell continues lifting. A ring of sweat can easily be seen forming around his neck since his t-shirt is getting wet from his work out. He is in mid-repetition as he says, "Your accent reminded me of some of the farm hands I knew from back home." As he finish the set he sits up maybe to cool down or maybe because his heart rate is to fast for the moment either way he wipes some sweat from his brow, "I am in here every day about this time working out and listenin' to music if you need a work out partnet and you are here I'll spot you. Gotta stay healthy to kill those toaster sons of bitches."

"Eh?" Randy looks a bit uncertain at the mention of an accent. "It slips sometimes, but mountain folk are mountain folk I figure." She drawls and gives a tiny shake of her head, watching each press and eyeing biceps thoughtfully as he does his spotting job and brings the weights to a resting place. "Good good, and hey…I come in here to do weight work, and work the bag for an hour or two, so it wouldn't hurt."

"I'm from the mountains myself, Scorpia." His accent is oddly flat like most Scorpians which is odd considering he is from high up in the mountains of Scorpia, "My family moved there a while back from Aerelon." His demeanor matches someone from Aerelon even if his accent doesn't. He starts working again on his weights and he speaks in a surly manner as he says, "Sure, sounds good just one thing, no touchy feely crap, okay?" As his repetition continues it is clear he is pushing himself, not too much, but just enough to try to push himself to the next level. After finishing the set he asks, "I don't work the bag. We've got guns so scrapin' seems pointless. Is it a good work out?"

"Hunh." Randy crosses her arms over her chest and just tilts her head to the side a bit. She's listening and she looks vaguely surprised, then disgusted. "I don't do touchy feely." She snorts and shakes her head a bit. "Scrapin' isn't ever pointless, trust me. It is a good work out though, really good. Kinda helps shape and tone the muscles that have been built up with weights."

Dell stands up, "You want me to spot you now?" He says as he walks away from the woman to get a towel since he is offically a sweaty beast. As he towels off he says, "Well, if you don't do touchy feely we will be fine." He begins toweling off his face first and he works his way down and when he is done he walks back over toward the weights, "Is that a fact? Maybe I should pick it up then. I've been in my fair share of fights though I always prefered shooting things."

Randy considers the offer, nodding as she adjusts the weights to a comfortable yet challenging weight and settles down on the weight bench. She waits until Dell comes back over before sighing and laying back to chuckle lowly. "I'm kinda the opposite, but my dad was a marine, wanted both his boy-children to be prepared, I have to do both."

The media player changes and 'Gimme Shelter' plays in the background as Dell asks, "Come again?" He gets into position as his eyes lock on to the bar and Randy's arms because he is playing the roll of spotter and he carelessness comes with painfull and horrible consequences. His hands even hover underneath the bar as Randy works out as a precaution.

A roll of those husky blue eyes as her jaw sets and she does another rep and takes a deep breath, Randy grunts. "I prefer fighting over shooting, but I can do both…works out as an MP though, sometimes we're lucky." A faint smirk. "More beating, less shooting though in arrests."

Music continues to play as Dell keeps watching the bar however he does note the eyeroll and he says, "Yeah, I can see why an MP would want to fight first. Me, the only thing I am good for is shooting." His face is expressionless as he speaks, well, that isn't true, stoic is a better word.

"I like blowing shi-stuff up too though. I have anger management issues, I'm not supposed to get…" Randy cuts off to do another repetition before taking a break and working on catching her breath, closing her eyes. "Into fights. But got no problem helping people with the bag just in case the gun runs out of bullets."

"Right about now, blowing the shit out of a toaster sounds like something to focus on." This is said with a sneer as the Private clearly does not like the walking tin cans. "Anger can be good when it is put in the right direction." Dell adds as he continues to watch Randy working on the weights and he rolls his shoulder which oddly enough does not pop at all.

Randy pauses in mid-pump to consider that for a few moments. "Yeah, I guess you're right there." Then she finishes the pump and would shrug but…ya know, lifting weights. "There's a place for all emotions, I get pissed off about the wrong things, gotta save the anger for when I really need it. Or else I just get reprimanded or close to getting kicked out for breaking a man's leg." She exhales and moves to put the weights back and down.

Dell looks at Randy and he calmly asks, "You almost broke a man's leg, huh? What did he do to piss you off?" Dell's expression hasn't change so he doesn't look phased by this as he continues to spot Randy.
"Not almost." Randy responds honestly, sitting up to roll her shoulders and crack her neck. "Took my beer." Then she checks her weights again and frowns a bit. A pause and she looks around to find where she stashed her towel.

"You broke a man's leg because he took your beer?" It isn't a question as much as it is an appreciative statement but the private doesn't smile, smirk, or even twitch, "'Suppose it's good you're a MP then. Someone steels your shit you can beat them down without pause." He resets the weights putting everything back so the next person to use them will have a blank bar to use.

"There may have been words exchanged about mothers and goats and rocks being shoved in places that would make surgery necessary prior or after the breakage and being kicked out of the bar but uh, yeah." Randy doesn't sound apologetic though, she just snatches up her towel to wipe her face and take another deep breath. "Plus getting to handcuff really hot-" Errr, TMI. She just gives a small nod, getting to her feet and looking around. "You know how to take your hands?"

Dell stands there as Randy speaks and he listens to her story and when the TMI part comes up the surly little Marine touches scratches the tip of his ear, "Sounds like you had a good time." His hand then goes to his side and his left hand comes up to throw the towel in his hand around his neck, "Nope, is there a trick to it?" After the towel is in place Dell begins to walk over to Randy and when he gets at a close personal distance space he stops.

Randy's eyes cut to the side to regard Dell for a few moments before she moves over to the mats and such, picking up a roll of tape and she works on taping her hands up carefully to prepare for bag work. She goes more slowly than usual though so that Dell can see and she chuckles lowly. "No trick, just keeps your hands from getting bloodied up I guess." An eyebrow raises a fraction before she tosses the tape in Dell's direction.

Dell catches the tape and he is suprisngly athletic but he is an rifleman after all so athletic is in the job description and tape is wrapped around Dell's hands as he follows Randy's instructions and he speaks in salt of the worlds tones, "Ain't nothing wrong with bloodied up hands since it reminds you why you fought in the first place." He follows Randy's lead as he waits for what will happen next.

"Yes…but if you haven't been frakkin' up toasters and your uniform gets all bloodied up because you forgot about your hands, superiors will have your ass and you'll have no good excuse." Randy smirks and makes her way to the bags, adjusting her stance to hold it steady. "Go ahead…just…let loose, I'll hold the bag for you."

Dell looks at the bag and he looks at Randy and the moment she is finished speaking he throws a punch, an angry punch into the bag and his face clearly shows that he is angry but it isn't directed at Randy it is focused on the bag like the bag was a cylon. Clearly this isn't the first punch he has thrown and it hits the bag but it isn't clean or pretty in fact he has left himself wide open to another attack. The media player kicks over and 'Kashmir' starts playing. "If a toaster catches up to you hitting it won't do much good."

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