Joining For the Gym

November 22, 2015:

Fairchild and Captain Marvel in the League gymnasium.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Caitlin's enjoying the gymnasium. Mostly because it's almost impossible for the girl to find a weight she can lift that won't cause major structural damage to the ground on which she'd standing at the time. Working with construction girders is decent exercise, but it's hard to beat a proper set of workout equipment for a real training routine.

So she's been carefully exploring the various pieces of equipment available to her. More than a few Leaguers are in the 'holy shit' strength category, but Caitlin seems to have settled on a set of pulleys and grips that attach to machines set underground. No one's informed her that the only people who regularly use said equipment at that setting is Diana… and Superman… but that doesn't seem to be stopping her as she keeps cranking up the dials, trying to push her own physical limits. She's actually wearing real girl clothes for a change— workout shorts and an industrial-sized sports bra, both of which fit her and probably didn't come out of a thrift store.


By comparison, Carol strolls in from the gymnasium's changing room wearing virtually shapeless but clingy, heavily worn dull grey sweats with USAF logos and lettering in midnight blue. Her blonde hair is actually down around her shoulders, held back from her face by a broad sweatband. "Hey, kiddo. Having fun?" she comments, smiling at the redhead lifting aircraft carriers of mass.

Captain Marvel makes her way over to a different setup, and starts working a rowing machine that is also geared to superstrength, but this one forcing a much broader and more complex range of mations involving as much of her body as possible.


"Hey Cap!" Caitlin exclaims in greeting, waving a hand. She shifts awkwardly to get her position reset on the bench and sits upright, brushing her hands absently. "This place is /awesome/, yanno?" she tells the blonde. Her hair is pulled back in a sports band around her brow, being at that awkward length where it's not quite long enough for a ponytail but too long to ignore anymore. She rests her hands on her thighs, elbows turning out in a stretch. "It beats working in that friggin' construction yard. Dudes catcalling me all day, coming home stinking of iron and smelting agent? Paaaass," she drawls. "Also, they've got a cafeteria here, and they said I can eat /anytime I like/, for free!"


"And as much as you like." Carol ammends for the redhead, winking one blue eye. She did just watch Caitlin scarf heftily yesterday while they were talking with Kate. "Hey, I'm glad that you like it. Enjoy it." Carol certainly will as well, as evidenced by her own progress with her workout. She apparently is one of those people who can talk and workout at the same time. "I promise, no catcalls here." Because if anyone starts? Carol's going to launch them into orbit as an object lesson.


Caitlin snorts and titters a bit. "Yeah, /right/, like that's gonna happen," she says with a dopey grin, looking around the room. "I mean, with you AND Wonder Woman AND Starfire here, I'm pretty sure the worst I'll get is requests to pull stuff down off the high shelves, or something."

She leans back on the bench and knocks out a few more reps on the bench, then reaches over and twists the resistance dial up again. It's hovering right around 'fifty', and it doesn't seem to have occurred to Caitlin to ask what that number correlates to. Suffice that underfoot, Carol can sense electromagnets grinding angrily in protest at the strain Caitlin is forcing upon their systems.


"Caitlin." Carol comments. Just the name. That's all she needs to use to make it clear that the redhead is off-base. "Trust me, will you? The Amazon might outclass a bit; she's divine or something. But beyond her? You measure up in spades, and you need to find the confidence in yourself that I know you deserve." Besides, enough of these folks fly that no one needs Caitlin just for her height. Right?

Carol keeps up her own repetitions in smoothly-flowing movements, grace and power, speed and endurance in one blonde package that isn't afraid to seat, and actually enjoys it. "Have you see the combat drones?" Carol inquires, smiling. Oh, she can feel the strain Caitlin is putting on the systems. But she's not going to tell her to stop. Let the other woman finally cut loose, that's Carol's vote. Everyone deserves the chance, right?


Caitlin squirms a bit at the pointed remonstration, then turns a flaming shade of scarlet at the unexpected praise from Carol. She throws herself into her workout again, finishing the set, and fusses with the machine in an attempt to give herelf a few seconds to get her furious flushing skin under control.

"Wait, what combat drones?" she asks over her shoulder, finally parsing Carol's words. "They've got drones here? Cooooool," she whistles, eyes bugging a bit.


At least Carol doesn't stare, and doesn't tease. She lets Caitlin deal with her blushing and embarrassment on her own, as she sees fit. She's understanding that way. Besides, working out! Sweat! Effort! Isn't life grand?

"The training room has combat drones, capable of taking on roles as needed for training simulations, including various powersets. I enjoy them because they can amp up to a challenging level for hand to hand combat training." Yes. Carol practices martial arts, sparring with combat drones. Everyone has things about this place that they love; that's one of hers.


Caitlin contemplates that. "Maybe I can finally learn some moves, then," she says, though the prospect sounds like a dubious one. "I mean, I took some classes at the YWCA in college my freshman year, but they were… y'know, 'stomp, knee, slap'," she admits, hands flapping vaguely. "I wanted to go back and learn some more but I was afraid I'd break someone's arm or somethin', yanno?"


"If you wanted to learn moves, you should have asked." Carol comments. After all, she has been an Air Force officer, a special forces soldier, a spy, and a security specialist, not to mention a superheroine. She has lots of experience and training in martial combat, and would be only too happy to share. "Shall we head to the training room and warm up the drones?"

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