2019-09-11 - T'work it Girl

Even though Tyrone had recently joined Kelly's gym, they didn't have all of the equipment that was at Pump It Up. So, after getting a workout routine worked out over /there/, he's come over /here/ to use the machines. Presently, he's transferred himself out of his whelchair and is sitting in the chest press machine ... chest pressing. His wheelchair is parked immediately beside him, though. And, with it being after dinner, the gym is pretty well peopled, though there's still empty machines and spaces to workout.

Abby is here to work out. It's a gym that she has a membership for, somehow. Most people, staff included, have only rarely seen her face. But today she's ready to face the gym. She's got her hair up in a pony tail, and is in a Captain Marvel t-shirt, gray leggings and sneakers. And her phone, because that's an essential component of the whole experience. She wanders along the machines, looking very, very indecisive. She checks her phone, makes a tiny frown, then looks around the gym again. But she's got a smile for pretty much anyone that comes across her field of sight, and since Tyrone is right nearby, she adds a quiet but friendly, "Hi!" Her gaze travels over the machines, hesitating.

Seated at one of the machines, Everett curls a dumb bell in slow repetitions. He has his head down, black cords dangle from the pocket of his sweatshirt, up under the hood he has over his head. His green eyes watching while he curls his arm and the heavily loaded bar.

"Sup," Tyrone says, in between reps. He's sweating, but not appearing to strain himself too terribly in the weight machine. At first, Abby didn't get much notice, but when she still looks somewhat uncertain after his set is finished, dusts his hands off and calls over to her. "You needing this machine? I only got one more set." Not that he thinks she actually needs it, but it might be a little less embarassing of a question than, 'do you know what you're here to do?'

"Oh. That machine? No, no, you're good, thank you!" Abby quickly reassures Tyrone with a bright smile, flapping a hand in a gesture as if urging him to stay down. Then she looks at her phone again, and after a small pause adds. "I suppose I probably do need that machine at some point. Or at least I could use it, I think. But I don't need it right now or anything, I'm pretty sure. I had this whole routine worked out the last time I came here, but that was... a while." She grimaces when she rambles through this admission, though the embarrassment is more playful than real.

A few more reps at a leisurely pace, the menacing figure in the bench of a mini gym. When done with those extras, he drops the weights to the ground to stand and walk to the mirrored wall and make a fist, flexing that arm, bulging his muscle he's just worked out. Grunts follow, Everett, the gym rat is loud, either because he's rude, or because he has his earbuds in, appreciating his super gains.

"Sure, I got you. Well, is it leg day, arm day, or core day?" Tyrone asks, easily, giving Abby a reassuring smile. And then Everett drops his weight and goes to admire himself in the window and Tyrone narrows his eyes in a frown. "Some people," he mutters to himself, shaking his head. But he's all smiles as he turns his attention back to Abby. "I just started my workout a little bit ago, if you wanna partner?" he offers.

Abby holds up a finger and glances at her phone. "Technically, it's... I'm going to say leg day according to this app thing, but I'm going to be on my feet all day tomorrow so I think I might have to kill someone and no one wants that," she explains in a quiet, thoughtfully rambling tone. Her eyes dart up towards the noises coming from Everett's direction, squinting and staring his way for a second. She gives Tyrone a curious look at that 'Some people' but doesn't press beyond the look. "Core is probably a good idea, though. Let's see..."

Spending a little more time looking how pretty his muscles making him, Everett turns to the other side, perhaps to get a comparison. Clenched wrist, bulging bicep, criticizing his masculine physique. Returning to the bench he was sitting on the large man sits down and swivels under the handlebars of the bench press, resuming chest presses. Picking up the bars and the machine's weights, Everett presses the bars and resists their fall slowly.

"Well, I probably can't help you on leg day, anyway, soooooo," Tyrone trails off with a smirk, looking up at Abby. If she looks at him to see if he's joking, he'll grin at her, because he totally is. Either way, he'll continue. "And your chest is part of your core, so if you wanna hit this machine up after I finish my last set, you're welcome to?"

Abby sneaks another glance in Everett's direction. She's got a smile ready in case he happens to glance her way, but mostly she seems fascinated by the preening in front of the mirror. "Right!" She continues with a smile in Tyrone's direction, glancing between him and the wheelchair, keeping a good-natured grin on, her laughter coming out as more of a soft little snort behind her hand. "And I'm pretty sure it matters more when you actually go to the gym enough times to build up to a routine. Not so much when you're feeling guilty and show up once in a blue moon. Right! This thing is supposed to tell me what I should do, but I haven't actually filled this out properly, I don't think. Oh, I'm Abby, by the way."

Everett finishes a set of chest presses, and when he does so stops what he's doing to slip his phone from the right front pocket of his phone. Looking at it for a moment, one hand on the handle of the bar, the other skimming though his phone. He reads something for a bit. Makes a throated, thoughtful sound, and then returns the device back into his pocket. His right forearm is used to wipe his sweaty forehead before the thug ducks his head under the bars again and resumes pressing, doing another set of ten.

"Tyrone," the man responds, settling in to start his last set. "Do you want me to take a look at it? Do you need help setting it up?" he asks. And then he starts pushing the weights away, exhaling as he pushes, making a concerted effort to breath in through his nose and out through pursed lips, as this last set appears to actually be a bit challenging for him. But, unlike certain lunkheads, he doesn't groan, grunt, or make other noise as he lifts. ... of course, he's not lifting anywhere near as much weight as Everett is, so that might also play into it.

Abby takes a small step back, and seems satisfied to just watch. Maybe she's a learn by observation kind of person, because that's what seems to be going on, with how attentive she is. It's only when he seems to be done that she speaks up. "That looked hard. Oh, and I had talked to someone here on staff, to figure out how to get started, and then I had people on the Internet help me figure out a whole routine! But then I kind of... didn't," she confesses, holding her arms out at her sides when she shrugs with a smile. "I really should work on core stuff, though. Everyone I know has got back problems, pretty much."

Everett does his special grunting after the climax, when the burn sets in and the muscles have been torn to sheds. Otherwise, the Fitness Freak maximizes his gains by fighting gravity: letting the weights fall but slowly. Whatever else he is, the gorilla is no stranger to the inside of a gym, even if he's keeping to himself -- except the little miring he did.

Once the set is finished, Tyrone takes a few deep breaths and then reaches over to move the weight thingie back to the top. "It was hard. And, like I said, your chest is part of your core, so ... you up next?" he asks, smiling. He scooches himself forward a little on the miniscule seat and reaches for his chair, whipping it into position beside him. He then yanks himself into the seat, twisting in mid-transfer, so his butt lands on the end of the pad. He adjusts his feet and then scoots back in his seat before putting them up on the footplate below. "All you gotta do is choose a weight and push, it's not rocket science," he adds, giving Abby a wink. And then there's that grunting again and Tyrone looks over at Everett once more. Ah well. It's a gym.

Abby does a little grunting of her own, but that's mostly because she nearly trips over herself on her way to the machine, flopping into the seat with flailing arms. "Sorry, sorry," she tosses out quickly, flashing Tyrone a brief apologetic smile. She looks down, then looks at the machine. "So, I'm pretty sure..." she leans forward and reaches down to adjust the seat height. "I could just go back to the treadmill. I can do that, no problem! And I'm pretty sure you can do rocket science on a computer, so it has at least one advantage..." she grunts again, but finally gets the seat at about the right height. Then she turns to squint at the weights, and checks her phone again, before carefully setting the weights rather low to start with. "Just to test it!" She wiggles around to make herself comfortable then grabs the handles. "Grrr!" She' s psychic herself up for it. Not that the weight on the machine is likely to require any sort of grrrring.

With that set done, Everett gives his arms another rest. Sliding free from the bench all together, he crouches to the backpack he's left by the equipment his claimed, and unzips it. From within he pulls out a water bottle, uncorks it and squirts milky white fluid into his mouth before recorking it and putting the bottle back inside. The search for a towel is interrupted, paused, by noticing the two people talking together. Brows quirk with confusion before he goes back to withdrawing a towel from the backpack and wiping the perspiration on his face and the drops of whatever he was drinking that landed on the matting. Towel is returned, Everett stands and waves his arms back and forth under his arms until some hidden clue signals his return to lay down on the bench again.

Tyrone chuckles at Abby and smiles as she gets herself situated. When she adjusts the seat, he helpfully repositions the handles so they're at the proper depth. "Yeah, you could. But if you just wanted to run, why pay all the money for the membership and the nice workout gear? You could save all that money and get you a treadmill at home and run in whatever you want." When she does finally start to press the weight, Tyrone will watch for a few seconds and offer any pointers, if necessary, like 'slow, smooth motions,' or 'only come down to ninety degrees, don't come down too far.' Or, if she's got it, he'll just be encouraging. Either way, he's there to help. Everett's jacked bod isn't nearly as distracting as is the effort it takes for Tyrone NOT to try and check out Abby's chest while she chest presses. For obvious reasons. But, he makes a valiant effort!

"Hi!" Abby tosses out to Everett with a sunny, friendly smile, when he seems to notice them, or at least briefly glance their way. But then she's all focused on the task at hand, pushing forward on the handles with a little mock-growl, flashing Tyrone a grin as she does. "I guess, but the treadmills here have all kinds of doohickeys I don't think I could afford. I might as well just actually run around the block, if it wasn't for the... murderers," she whispers that last word. It's hard to say if she's serious. She seems to have little trouble with the weight, so after a little while she turns and adjusts it a little higher. Fortunately, her choice of sturdy sports bra and Captain Marvel logo on the t-shirt keep things from getting too distracting.

Abby got all she was going to be given from Everett with the slight glance. Some people are here for the serious task of gaining, or maintaining, fat gains. Not, ugh, making friends. Instead he's back to another, and his last set of chest presses. Considering he's been here before them, and sweating, his workout has been going on for a while. When the last set is finished, Everett stands and moves the weight pin on the machine back up to a roughly middle point. The dumb bell he dropped on the floor is where he goes to next, picking it up with his left hand, arm nearly fully extended, before lifting it and slowly back down.

Sure, they may not be /too/ distracting. But, come on. They're boobs. He's still a young man. And, he's been single for a LONG time, now, in 'young man' terms, so. Yay, boobs. But, he /is/ trying not to be a jerk, so he doesn't outright oogle. Just a cursory glance. Honest. But, when she continues to lift after changing the weights, Tyrone's brow furrows a little. "Really, you shouldn't do more than maybe twenty reps in a set. You just do multiple sets after taking a short break in between. Gotta give the muscles time to relax so you can beat 'em up again," he offers, helpfully. The fact that Everett stands up does get a glance, because Everett is B.I.G. But, much like the man mountain, Tyrone doesn't spare more than a glance for the other gym goers getting their gain on.

"Oh? Well, the first one wasn't really..." Abby gestures at the weights and her nose crinkles up. She drops her hands to fold on her lap for a second as she stretches her legs out, ahead of herself and off to the sides. "It thought it would be better to start with too little weight than too much, but that was way too easy. Grr." She holds up her arms and pretends to flex and preen. Like Everett, only not really as good at it. And her arms are much too soft. She may even be strong enough to push those weights around, but let's not talk about body fat percentages. "I'll wait a little, though."

Another set of ten and Everett drops the dumbbell again to the matting with a "Ugh!" grunt. Leaving the bench he uses his right hand to stroke the bicep of his left hand like he's trying to sooth a burn away. Coincidently, his path takes him towards the wall again. God, look at that bastard in the mirror. So wonderful. Such a hunk of hunky hunk hunk. If cake and beef could make babies, it would be rubbing its bicep in the mirror. Everett gives his reflection a deeply self-indulgent stare.

Tyrone nods to Abby, then shrugs. "Just wanted to make sure you knew," he offers, smiling. And then she's flexing and he laughs and nods. "Yes, very much 'grr,'" he agrees, his grin easy. "But you better put those guns away, you don't wanna get us kicked outta here with you packin' like that," he teases. "And most you should wait is a minute, but it's kinda whatever you need."

Abby lowers her guns and rubs her hands down to her knees, smiling and rolling her eyes slightly. "Alright, alright. I'll just pull these out in case I need to defend myself!" She acquiesces playfully, then leans back into position, hands going to the handles again. She doesn't push yet, just relaxes. "I do lift heavy... things, and push stuff around all day. Some days. I can't just call that exercise and say I'm done. There's probably whole muscles I've never even heard about since anatomy classes. Okay!" She draws a deep breath, puts her game face on, and gets back to a new set of reps.

Checking himself out in the mirror for a little bit longer, Everett rolls his left arm while he returns to the bench he left and picks up the dumbbell. It isn't that the weight is, all that, heavy. It's the multiple sets with multiple repetitions. Returning the loaded bell back to the stand, Everett once more returns to the bench and takes out the towel. He pulls the hoodie off of his head, proving he has long hair the hoodie is being used to hold back. First the towel is wiped over brow, then face, leaving wet hair to cling on his temple, and then he uses his towel to wipe down the machine he was just using. Everett's packing up to leave.

"Attagirl, good idea," Tyrone agrees as Abby puts away the lethal weapons. "What kind of work do you do?" he asks, as she settles in to do her next set. He appears perfectly patient to wait for her answer, though, since he knows he doesn't like to talk in the middle of a set. Focus on the task at hand and all that. As Everett finishes up over at the bench, Tyrone gestures in that direction with his head. "We can do shrugs over there, next, if you want, now that Goliath is finishing up."

Abby rolls her eyes ever so slightly, but smiles, puffing out a breath as she pushes out, drawing in a breath as her arms go back. The next time, she talks as she pushes. "I'm a nurse at Addington Memorial." Then goes quiet as she eases back, glancing over after Everett as he seems ready to depart. "Ohh, okay. I mean, I can do shrugs anywhere. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty good at shrugging. What's this stain on the patient's chart? Where did the patient go? Did anyone see my stethoscope?" Shrug. Shrug. Shrug.

Instead of using the changing rooms, Everett heads to the fore, towards the doors out of the gym. While he walks, Everett's going back into his bag for his water bottle again. Another tilting of his head back, squirting into his mouth. While he swishes the liquid in his mouth, he recaps the bottle and slams it back into the bag. A roll of his temple against his shoulder to seep up more sweat, Everett carries himself and his musk to the front doors and past them where he pauses to pull out his phone. Playing with it for a bit, Everett breaks into a jog, his cardio-o.

"Ahhh, so I should have said, Helloooo, Nurse?" he asks, when Abby announces her job. And then she talks about her shrug game and Tyrone blinks. Okay. That was funny. It may have taken a second, but it does make him laugh out loud, shaking his head at Abby's joking. "Yeah, okay, not that kinda shrug, but whatever. What did you wanna do next? Abs? I can do a couple of the ab machines here, but situps are a real bitch. So it's up to you."

And Abby rolls her eyes again, pursing her lips in an expression of feigned disapproval before the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. "You could say that! I don't know about should, though..." She tilts her head to the side and wrinkles her nose dubiously. "Right! It's - a shrug but with weights?" She's guessing. Rolling her shoulders, she plants her hands on her thighs and starts to stand up. "Abs are probably a good idea! Not that I'll have a six-pack any time soon, but I might as well get started on it, right? I'd offer to help spot you or something like that, but you'd probably have to teach me everything first, which seems like... a lot of extra work."

As Abby stands up, Tyrone pulls a towel off of the back of his chair and starts to wipe down the machine. Which, he realizes, he probably should have done BEFORE she sat down, but ... hey! New friends, right? "Yeah, shrugging with weights," he confirms, smirking. "We can also do a couple other machines for abs, if you'd rather. As far as situps go, I pretty much just lay down on any flat surface and try to sit up. I'm paralyzed from here down, so," he says, holding his hand flat across his tummy just at his belly button. "Can't really do a ton, but I don't gotta worry about my legs coming up!" At least there are a few perks, right? "Or we could do shoulders, or trunk. Whatever you want. It's on you."

Abby looks around. "Oooh, I wonder if shrugging with weights will help my regular shrugs get even more powerful," she says with a smile, rolling her shoulders back, then forward. She lets a hand settle on her stomach. "Maybe I'll let my shoulders rest after that, a bit," she points back to the machine she just got up from, and looks to Tyrone, watching closely for where he holds his hand to illustrate it, giving it a small knowing nod. "I could try working on my abs too. And that sounds hard. I have enough trouble with sits-ups as is..."