work it make it do it makes us harder better faster stronger [ open ]

[aregulargirl]

Who; Max Guevara and anyone else awake at the hours she is.
What; Testing herself in the gym.
Where; A gym! In Residential Zone 01, let's say, it makes sense.
When; A day or so after the mistletoe shenanigans, late night/early morning.
Warning(s); Nothing I can think of, maybe mentions of her background (harsh military grade training from very

Comments

[selfgovernance]

Charles has never really been one for physical exercise. Oh, he'd always participated when necessary, in school and the like, and he'd very (very) briefly taken up fencing at Oxford, but he preferred by far other sorts of recreational activities. Bars, for instance.

And bars were still an option here, of course, but they weren't... quite as appealing as they used to be. It's difficult to feel at home in a place where one can't see over the countertop to order a proper drink.

(No, stop that. Bitterness isn't the answer to anything)

Which is why he's here, now, and fighting with the door. The facility isn't wheelchair accessible, which is-- frustrating, but he'll have to adjust to the reality of it. So he does. Adaptability is something else the mutant population is going to need to rely on to survive in the future.

He gets the door open, and his chair through it with difficulty, before he even picks up on the fact that there's another mind present. Had he really been so distracted as all that? He's usually aware of the light smattering of minds in each zone he's in, in a white-noise sort of way, but this comes as an actual surprise.

He pauses for a moment, tugging his gloves off into his lap (he has to look down to make sure he didn't just toss them accidentally on the floor, because he doesn't - can't - feel that light impact), and then wheels a little more cautiously into out of the gym's foyer. It's only one mind. Plenty of people have seen him now in the chair, he's becoming perfectly accustomed to dealing with the pity that generally accompanies meeting new people.

The mind he finds belongs to a woman, younger than him, tinged with concern over something he's not going to pry about. Everything about her projections seems... fuzzy, somehow. Fractured, distal. She's not quite a normal human, but he isn't sure what else he could call her, either.

Max.

He purses his lips, and gently erects a barrier between them. He'd promised not to rummage about in other people's minds, and for the most part he's even adhering to that promise, wonder of wonders.

"I'm terribly sorry," he says as he wheels into her line of vision. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here at this time of night. How do you do?"

[aregulargirl]

It's because she's still preoccupied with her own thoughts that Max doesn't hear Charles struggle herself; if she had she'd likely would have gone to help him inside if he'd wanted it. There were times where Logan wouldn't accept it, and after a year of knowing him she understood why. As it is, she only hears him as he wheels in and straightens, removing her hand from over her heart before turning to him (without any shock or pity in her expression; she knows it's not what he wants to see and the only thing surprising to her is that he's not exercising somewhere more private - it's how Logan preferred to do things).

"It's fine, there probably usually isn't," she replies with a small shrug. "I'm fine, I just couldn't sleep." That she usually doesn't goes unsaid. "How are you?"

[selfgovernance]

He brightens a little at her expression, or more accurately at the particular absence of certain emotions in it.

"I'm well, thank you. Ah, it's Charles, by the way. Charles Xavier. It's nice to meet you, though the circumstances are a little-- well. Unusual."

He smiles helplessly and holds out a hand, should she be so inclined.

[aregulargirl]

"There've been weirder ones," she says with a small smile, extending her own hand to shake his. "Max Guevara."

[selfgovernance]

"A place like this? I can believe it." He has a bit of a dry laugh at that, and reaches out to give her a firm handshake. "It's lovely to meet you, dear."

Once reclaimed, he drops his hand down against the handrim, rolling the chair back a few inches. Though he's unfamiliar with this particular chair, not so to the concept of paralysis. His recent adventure in returning home saw to it that he had a three month period of adjustment. Not quite enough to be at home in the chair, but... enough that he's no stranger to it.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I? I can leave, if you'd prefer."

[aregulargirl]

Max is a little thrown off, if only because no one ever calls her anything like 'dear', but she recovers quickly. "You, too." She shakes back, the smile remaining in place until she lets go and takes a step back herself.

"No, it's - you're fine," she says, shaking her head. "I was just about done here."