(no subject)
Who: Max, and open! Multiple threads encouraged!
What: Stress. Relieving. Ya'll are starting to drive her bat shit.
Where: The Gym.
Warnings: None, I don't think.
Max had dressed down considerably before she left, she had on a black wife beater and a pair of gray soccer shorts. Her sleeping hadn’t been as prominent as it had been before, even though McCoy had said that if she declined herself rest again she’d be answering to him. She was having dreams about Manticore again and with the usual idiots running things amok on the barge it gave her little time to rest and more time to take up extra security shifts and keep keen eyes out for anything out of the ordinary.
Sure, if she thought about it the barge was actually way better than her real life- one where she was hunted for what she was but it had it’s on shitty people on it and shitty situations and they were much, much harder to ignore.
Max beat her bare knuckles against one of the punching bags and brought her leg up into a moment later, holding back most of her general strength so that the thing wouldn’t go flying into the wall. Just deep breaths and punches in sequences of three. She didn’t usually have time like this to herself and was relishing it while she did. The sorting was in a few days, she assumed, and then she’d be with another inmate and have far less time than before. Working out, though? Working out felt nice.
What: Stress. Relieving. Ya'll are starting to drive her bat shit.
Where: The Gym.
Warnings: None, I don't think.
Max had dressed down considerably before she left, she had on a black wife beater and a pair of gray soccer shorts. Her sleeping hadn’t been as prominent as it had been before, even though McCoy had said that if she declined herself rest again she’d be answering to him. She was having dreams about Manticore again and with the usual idiots running things amok on the barge it gave her little time to rest and more time to take up extra security shifts and keep keen eyes out for anything out of the ordinary.
Sure, if she thought about it the barge was actually way better than her real life- one where she was hunted for what she was but it had it’s on shitty people on it and shitty situations and they were much, much harder to ignore.
Max beat her bare knuckles against one of the punching bags and brought her leg up into a moment later, holding back most of her general strength so that the thing wouldn’t go flying into the wall. Just deep breaths and punches in sequences of three. She didn’t usually have time like this to herself and was relishing it while she did. The sorting was in a few days, she assumed, and then she’d be with another inmate and have far less time than before. Working out, though? Working out felt nice.