(no subject)
After the hours put in at Titan Enterprises, Percy has turned up at the gymnasium for a workout, all equipment in tow. Now he has claimed boxing gloves and a long heavy punching bag, although not one of he reinforced bags, to pound into. He wears cotton trousers of dark grey, slung low on his hips and held up by a drawstring, and a thin white T-shirt ripples with the motion of his body as he builds up a fluid rhythm of punches.
A distinct, whistled catcall comes from the entrance of the gym. Kelsey walks in to follow it up, dressed in some--most likely borrowed--gym shorts and a tee. She is distinctly Japanese and her nose is distinctly bruised. A small gym bag is slung over her shoulder, looking to be only partially filled. "Ye read my mind," she notes, accent still there, as she makes her way over to his little patch of punching bags.
Catching the bag and bracing it still on one gloved hand, Percy cants his head to slant a sidelong look at the tiny Japanese interloper. He arches his eyebrows over the lively glint in gold-bright amber eyes, hissing out a breath past his teeth with the flash of a grin. "That's not usually my talent," he says.
"Sometimes, people say things they dinnae mean literally. It's called a figure of speech." Kelsey gives him an exaggeratedly surprised expression. "I'm surprised ye didnae ken that, what with all the linguistic trainin'." She drops off her bag, squatting down to open it and pull out a roll of hand wrap.
"Sometimes colloquialisms leave me cold." Percy works his fingers inside his gloves, and drapes his arm across the bag, leaning into it to turn and study her. "Does pain feel the same to you in that body as it did in the proper one?"
"It feels about the same, but this one gets hurt a whole fucking lot more." One hand reaches up to gingerly touch at the area around her nose before she starts wrapping her left hand. "I'm supposed tae ask ye why it's so funny that I ended up as a Japanese chick."
"Well--" Percy starts to reply to the first point, and then he stops, settling back on his heels with the loose wrap of one arm across his chest. He taps his boxing glove lightly against his mouth, a bare edge of smirk revealed in the glitter of his eyes where the curve of his lips is half-hidden. "Because I used to take Japanese chicks home and fuck them all the time."
Kelsey looks at him. For a while. She even pauses in the middle of wrapping. "An'...part of ye desperately wants tae take me home, too?" she ventures, trying to make the connection. Might as well choose the flattering option.
"Well, funnily enough, and I'll have you know I've been granted an express /dispensation/ for the purpose," Percy raises a finger to accompany this point, because it is very important. Except that he's wearing boxing gloves, so raising a finger is really a lot like raising his whole hand. "--I used to do it to piss off my father. Who is dead, and thus, difficult to aggravate. So, no point any longer, really."
"No point in sleepin' with me anymore. How tragic." Kelsey rolls her eyes to to illustrate this point as she finishes up on her left hand. Fingers flex a couple of times to check the tightness. Satisfied, she digs in the bag for a second wrap. "Good thing I can find my satisfaction elsewhere."
Percy grins, and doesn't say anything for a moment. He draws his gaze away, to settle it upon the person of the punching bag, which is for hitting as opposed to hitting on. "Well," he says, in his Britishest of accents, "if you were /relying/ on me, I'm sure I could oblige you. I say it myself, but I did rather evolve quite /for/ that sort of thing, you know."
Her accent broadens in response to his tightening up. "Oy. Sassenach. Ye tryin' tae imply that my whole sex life is relyin' on ye?" Kelsey gives him a bit of a /look/, which perhaps has too much amusement to really hit home. "Cause I've got someone--" Her voice cuts off for a moment and she switches gears. "--I've got plenty o' blokes tae choose from."
"You /might/," Percy says loftily. He gives her a /particular/ look, halfway between amused and curious. "And if you'd like to come by my place sometime so that we can get completely pissed and dish about our boyfriends, I'm sure I can find paper umbrellas somewhere." He lines himself up with the punching bag again, preparatory to taking a swing at the heavy thing. "But you really do have no idea what you're missing."
She looks over, amused and maybe a touch embarrassed as she finishes up the wrapping on her right hand. "He's nae my /boyfriend/," she specifies grumpily. "Exactly. I dinnae ken." Kelsey straightens up, smirking at him. "I'm sure it's quite a lot, an' I appreciate the offer, but it's nae exactly what I'm lookin' for." There's a pause. "The gettin' pissed part sounds good, though."
"Oh, good." Percy closes his mouth over what comes next, and smirks a little wider as he starts hitting the bag again. Right, left, right, right. "Is it complicated? If it is complicated, we will need more liquor."
"Not.../exactly/. Not unpleasantly, I mean. I think we're both commitment phobics who arenae used tae relationships." That sounds kind've complicated. Kelsey settles onto the floor to start stretching. "We can have more liquor either way, though."
Laughing breathlessly as he beats a resumption of his fluid rhythm into the bag, Percy demands, "Oh, is /that/ all?"
"Shut up." Kelsey glares at him from the floor. Surely her stretches are very intimidating. "It's good. We're just a wee bit hesitant about labels. It's still early, anyways." So /there/.
"Labels," Percy dismisses. Left, left, right, right, left. Sweat lightly sheens pale skin and lean muscle as he gets back into the swing of it. "When I was your age I rejected them utterly. And I was allergic to calendar holidays. Violently allergic." You really need to stop saying things like 'When I was your age' to people, Percy.
She watches him in wonder. "Oh, Mister Talhurst, /do/ tell me what life was like for a whole...what, five, six years ago?" Wide eyes flutter, enraptured.
"I can't say for sure in certain terms," Percy replies in a musing tone, smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "I was pretty drunk."
"Good way tae spend a few years," she replies thoughtfully. "Though it's tragic tae be missin' out on your vast years of experience. Cause ye're just /so/ much older than me."
"I have a lot of experience. It's just that most of it is sexual." Percy catches the bag again, stilling it, and tips his head down to tap a boxing glove against his head. Presumably this is to draw her attention to the silver gleams that hide amidst the dark, wavy strands of his hair. It's possible that he's just weird, though.
"Bloody whore." It's affectionately said, though. "Maybe with my emotional experience, we can make one normal person together." Eyebrows raise at the flash of silver. "Verra impressive. Though seems a bit premature."
"It's not that I'm /so/ old," Percy says, lining up the bag again with the scrape of his gloved hand down along its length. "I just happen to have lived very eventfully."
"An' with verra little clothing?" she adds on, bending over one leg in a stretch. Her new body is frustratingly stiff and she has to work against it. Grumblegrumble.
"Well, I have gone through tailors at an alarming rate, but I don't think that's what you mean," Percy says, slanting a grin over his shoulder at her before he starts pounding at the back again.
Kelsey smirks as she shifts into a different stretch. "It's not, but I appreciate your wit." Stretches now over, she gets to her feet, bouncing on the balls of her feet and picking out her target amongst the punching bags.
Percy has resumed his rhythm, and pounds into the heavy bag in a steady chain of punches. "Thank you," he says, laughter in the breath that carries the words. "I try."
"Aye, I ken," Kelsey muses as she lines up with her chosen cause-of-frustration replacement for the night. "I'll think about when we should get pissed. Maybe when I get my body back." With that, she starts wailing in with practice efficiency.
Kelsey seems to think she can get along without Percy's amazing sexual prowess. Percy is skeptical.