OOC Logs
<> Weight Room - Lv1
The usual odor of sweat and exertion that usually invades your senses as you walk into a weight room aren't found as you walk into this one. It's quite the opposite, an almost feminine scent about the room. This could be due to the little air fresheners that hang out in plain view, so that those with altered senses can work out here in peace as well as those who don't. The thick, cement walls are lined with padding on three sides, making it possible for someone to get tossed around without actually being hurt. The fourth wall though, has a large, rectangular mirror running over it, covering the wall completely. About a quarter of the way up from the floor in front of the mirror is a wooden bar that stretches out across, the type that they use in dance schools. The equipment in the room is rather impressive, more so then you would think to find on the Brotherhood Island. There are two treadmills standing side by side against one wall, each with a heart rate monitor and a tiny jack to plug in a set of headphones to listen to whatever your little heart desires. They both also have a place for you to stick your water bottle. About five feet away is an eclipse machine with much the same setup, save for the difference of a set of handlebars to hold onto as you work out. And the final machines lining this wall are two bicycles, standing next to each other. One looks like it's made for the smaller of the members, the second looking as though it were created to hold a great deal of weight without breaking. In one corner of the room are the actual weight stations, one massive one for your arms, and one equally massive one for your legs. As well, there's an assortment of free weights and bench press chairs scatter throughout the room. There are two bins standing against the wall, one with a sigh that says 'dirty towels' the other saying 'clean towels'. The one marked clean has a bunch of fluffy, soft white towels for you and the dirty one has more of the air fresheners attached. The final part of this room is a soda machine set up in a corner, with assorted sodas and a lot of water. Though it looks like it's been made to deposit the drinks without needing any actual money. The entire room looks like it would fit in better at a health club then it would here, and yet... here it is.
Brendan finds a roll of tape and some bandages and he begins to tape up his bloodied knuckles...apparently, he's not yet done with the punching bag. He glares over at Cain...despite the fact that the guy is freakin huge, Brendan doesn't seem intimidated by him. "Oh, so you think you're Dr Phil now, huh?" he chuckles wryly. "I need to come to terms with this, do I? You have -no- idea what this is like, pal. No idea at all...so stop trying to act like you do. I basically got stomped on, and it sure as hell doesn't feel very good. And I plan on doing something about it when I get the opportunity...but for now, I'm stuck here. So I'm making the best of it." He goes back over to the punching bag and begins to start hitting it again, wincing each time he connects. "As soon as I can make it to the mainland, the sh*t's gonna hit the fan."
Cain stares... It's something that happens surprisingly fast, given how 'freakin huge' he is. A hand darts out to snatch Brendan by the scruff of his shirt and basically lift, and plant him back-first against a wall, and hold him there, the Juggernaut's eyes suddenly shifting to a much redder color. "Let me explain something to you, kid. You're not the first person to get his heart broken, and you're damn sure not the last. And don't you DARE assume to tell me what I do and do not know!" The way he sounds, he almost seems to take the comment personally... The bright redness in his irises seems to dim down as the tenseness in his neck and trapezious settles. "We're a Brotherhood. We're a team, and that means we help one another." His grip relaxes somewhat, but Brendan's still kept somewhat aloft. "You're in a tough position. It's okay to be angry, but you're taking it out more on yourself then that punching bag you're trying to beat up. Just humor me.. What's more important to you, right now?"
Pyro picks that exact moment to stride through the doorway to the weight room, towel and water in hand. And he's half-way across the room before he notices the other occupants. And their positions. "Uh, sorry if I'm interrupting something," he says, letting a single cough echo across the room.
Brendan doesn't expect to be lifted up like that, and he is taken by surprise as he finds himself slammed back against the wall. "Ooomph! Heeey! Put me down...!" he grumbles, glaring daggers through Cain as he squirms in his grip. He knows what the large guy says is right, yet he doesn't know if he's ready yet to accept it completely. Obviously his words did something, because he really could just have used his powers to slip out of Cain's grip and escape...instead, he just hangs there, peering down at him. "Yes, I know that, Cain, that's something that I've tried to hammer into other peoples' heads here, more specifically Chrome and LuXu. But this is something that I have to deal with on my own. Yeah, I know it's not the first time someone's had their heart completely stomped on and smashed to pieces, but there are smaller issues associated with this that some of you can't really understand. Look, I'm sorry if I sound like an ass right now, but I'm trying to deal with this thing the best way I know how..."
He frowns. "Now could you kindly please put me down? The oxygen is running out way up here." Heh. A tall person joke.
Brendan peers over at Pyro as he walks in..."No, no, just the usual stuff going on...I pissed off Cain and now he's about to propel me headfirst through the wall..." he remarks
If Brendan's trying to intimidate Cain with that glare, it's not working. He hears Pyro, though doesn't look at him right away, still having Brendan in that one-handed grip of his. A brow lifts at his choice of remarks. The 'joke' actually earns a humored smirk. He's gutsy, alright.. The responce to Pyro is responded to similarly. "If I was gonna hurt you, you'd know it." His arm does finally lower, letting Brendan's feet settle on the ground before removing his hand, sighing lightly through closed lips. "I think we're both a little stressed. Sorry for getting rough like that." Did he just apologize?
"So, it's... okay then to use the weights then..." Pyro says, flipping the towel across one of the benches before looking back at the two. "There's not going to be... like anything hurling through the air? 'M Pyro, by the way," he adds. "It's... Brendan, right? Don't think we ever officially met."
Brendan sighs as he feels his feet finally hit the ground. "You don't have to apologize, I'm the one acting like an idiot." He peers down at his bandaged hands. "Look what I freakin did to myself, Cain. I think I have a few anger issues to iron out. The funny thing is, I never had to deal with them until recently, when this whole thing started. It's as if it awakened something...." He glances over at Pyro, and smiles a bit. "Oh yeah, feel free to use whatever weights you want. I'm done working out for today...I been down here all day, actually." He shrugs. "Oh yeah, I've heard about you, Pyro. Nice to finally run into you. I guess you could say I'm a bit...eh...reclusive? And yeah, my name's Brendan...aka Poltergeist."
Poltergeist, eh? Interesting choice for a nickname. Looking over to Pyro, he steps back. "Nah, I'm not throwing around anything... I heard what was going on down here, so I thought I'd check things out.." His attention moves to Brendan once more with a nod. "It's alright..." He seems to be calm again for the moment, though his as he leans back he finds himself peering from the door out into the passageway...
"Well, good to finally bump into you then, Poltergeist," Pyro nods, then begins pulling out a few weights. If nothing else, he's getting more comfortable around them. Results still remain to be seen, but acclimation is half the battle. "Hey Cain, you seen what Blitz' done with that statue yet?" he asks the other. "Not got to see him today yet."
Cain tch's at the mention of the statue, arms folding over his chest as he leans back a little by the while where he stands. "No. Haven't seen either of them since we got back. He's probably busy." His head shakes lightly. "Probably gonna set him up somewhere for decorations or something. Almost feel sorry for the dick." Looking to Brendan, he has to ask. "I don't guess you've seen ole Han Solo yet, have you?"
Brendan smirks and shakes his head. "To be honest, I've spent the last week or so either in my room, or in here. I haven't seen much of anyone, really. And if I did happen to see someone I probably forgot cause I got totally drunk off my ass the last few nights..." He shrugs. "So what exactly is going on?"
Pyro rubs his hands together, a smirk crossing his face. "Had a little mini-mission last night, few of us. That ass that Blitz and Chrome dealth with at the prison... we went to the cemetary last night and did ourselves some digging," he says. The events have obviously grown much more radical in the hours since their happenings. "Stole it right out from under the cops faces."
Cain did most of the digging, but he won't say that. It's pretty much implied, anyway. He shrugs a little. "It went pretty smooth. The press don't suspect it was us. Wasn't the most exciting thing in the world, but being off the island for a little bit wasn't that bad."
Brendan blinks, "So, why exactly did you guys steal the body? What are you planning on doing with it?" Apparently he hadn't heard anything about the situation, because he finds it to be pretty damn weird. He heads over to a weight bench and plops himself down, peering at his injured hands again and shaking his head slowly.
"I think mostly to just stick it to them," Pyro says, finishing loading his weights and settling back onto the bench to begin some light presses. "Blitz' got some plans for it, I think, around here, but he's not telling. But yeah, mostly just to show we could."
"Probably just something to impress Magneto with. Show that he can handle doing mission work and whatnot. Maybe a 'trophy' to brag about..." Cain thinks about it for a moment. Then chuckles. "Actually, I think it's supposed to be a surprise for someone."
"Surprise?" Pyro asks, then quiets back down as he focuses on the rest of that set, sitting up afterwards. "First I've heard of that. Someone here?" he asks, trying to figure out who might get a kick out of a gift-wrapped metallic statue.
Cain shrugs. "Probably. Don't know why he'd go to the trouble of bringing it here if it was for someone somewhere else," he adds, trying to make a joke of it. "He'll probably be done with it soon enough if he's doing something with it."
"Well, whatever the reason, was fun to get away for a bit," Pyro shrugs. He glances at his weight selection. "Man, promise you won't lauugh if I ask you to spot me for another one?" he says, nodding toward the stack of free weights he might add to his bar.
Cain looks up toward the weights, then Pyro before smirking. "Nah, it's cool..." He IS a natural spotter, afterall, and he heads over that way to do so.
Pyro nods and tosses on another plate on each end, which must still look comical to the big man, but hey, know your limitations. He settles back onto the bench, reaching for the bar and lifting it without waiting for the other to take position. Yeah, he's not /completely/ by the book. "See you got rid of your manacles. Settling in then?"
Cain doesn't seem to mind the lack of waiting by Pyro. He can get there fast enough to get him out of trouble if needed. It's not that comical to him, actually, as he's well aware that he's considerably stronger than possibly anyone else on the island. He takes a spot behind the bench as he replies. "Trying. I think I'm managing alright."
"Yeah," Pyro manages between huffs. "Didn't beat you guys here by much myself. Just a couple weeks. Was really suprised they let me come with when they broke you guys out. It is really just aced to be... treated like one of the team." That, of course, is said after the set is complete and the weights back on the rack. Available breath, and all that.
<> Toad's Quarters - Brotherhood HQ
Well. Thank the black market for one-size-fits-all synthetic fabrics. Now that he's in a better mood, Toad's actually put forth some real effort to make that flamethrower suit that was requested of him. It's hanging on a mannequin torso to one side in his room and he's currently putting some of the finishing touches on it. Now if only someone would send that Pyro person here to get sized and a test run, it could be completed sometime soon...
Pyro has got the message. He stands outside the room a moment before knocking. Toad's one of the one's he's not had much interaction with. Although the /stories/ from his recruits are enough to make Pyro glad he's under different management. Still, after just a moment, he lifts his chin up and raps on the door.
Toad turns his head sideways at the sound of a knock, then moves across his room to look out his peephole. His greenish-black, beady eyes peer at Pyro from behind the slot. "You the bloke w'o plays with fire?"
Lighter is habitually in hand, and in response Pyro flicks it open, sending a quick blaze of fire arching up over his head before dissappating into the air behind him. "Aye, that'd be me, alright."
Very good, that he'd think to demonstrate his powers for confirmation. The slot on Toad's door slips shut, then moments later the door opens enough for John to slip through. "Took yohr bloody time gettin' 'ere," Toad calls from inside. "You want the damn thing or you just think I've got all the time in the world t'knit n' fuss over it while I wait for you to show?" He goes back over to the suit, which looks like it may fit Pyro for the most part. It's black, with red accents along the chest, arms and legs. And in addition, there's a nifty pair of mirrored red-lense goggles with black straps to go with it. Perfect for shielding one's eyes against intense light.
Naw, Pyro just likes any excuse to burn things, even if it is just the oxygen in the air around him. There's some sort of retort on his lips, but then he catches sight of the suit which--good thing, probably--halts it before being voiced. He steps across the room, one hand reaching out to touch the material. "Ace! This is it?" he asks, apparantly not quite willing to accept he's getting something as cool as that.
Kids. Toad rolls his eyes at Pyro's reaction, then flicks his tongue out to smack his hand for trying to touch the suit without permission. "Now look. Since I ain't seen you before now, yohr gonna 'ave t'try it on an' 'old still while I make some alterations. An' I'm also gonna need you t'test the output so I can make adjustments if need be. You'll 'ave t'do exactly w'ot I tell you an' don't fool around flingin' flames in 'ere. This w'ole room only takes one spark t'go up an' take the entire island with it." Which makes you wonder why Toad gets to live in it, let alone come anywhere near it. "Well dun' just stand there, start steppin' outta yohr clothes! I'm not out t'take photographs if that's w'ot yohr freaked out about." He takes the suit from its stand and unzips it.
Ewwwww. Pyro retracts his hand, scowling slightly and wiping it off on his pants when -hopefully- the other isn't looking. He watches the other move around a moment. "Fine, no fire," he says, slipping the lighter back into his pants. Then comes the belt buckle and he steps out of his pants, peeling the shirt off and tossing it onto the pile with the jeans. "That 'nuff, or you want everything?"
Toad looks at Pyro and chuffs. "I'd rather not be underwhelmed." He smirks, then starts pointing out things on the suit. First, the tanks, which are small but noticeable on the back. "Powdered magnesium's kept pressurized in these. Magnesium fire's be'ter than regular 'cause it can't be put out with just water or regular extinguishers. The tubes are form-fitted into the ribguards an' arms of the suit, so somebody'd 'ave t'work real 'ard t'try an' cut 'em loose. Tank's not exactly punctureproof, though, but the suit is fireproof, so if they catch flame you got time t'keep from gettin' crisped. Just press 'ere on your collars," he demonstrates, "an' the tanks fall back an' away from the body. Understand?"
Hey, them's fightin' words. Except throwing a punch at one of the senior members around here is a good way to get oneself killed. Pyro's hotheaded, but he's not stupid. Usually. So he settles with a blazing glare, although that quickly begins to fade with the explanation. "It just... catches fire by itself then?"
Killed by that senior member, yes. Or at least put in the infirmary. Toad knows better than to kill a junior member without just cause, but that doesn't mean he won't injure one severely. He's in too much of a good mood now to go that far, though. "When the magnesium hits the air, it incurs an exothermic reaction," he states slow and with abandonment of his lowclass accent. "A li'l bit's all you need t'make flame. T'do that, I put pressure sensors in the thumb, index and middle finger've each glove." He holds the suit open and beckons John to step into it. "Snap yohr fingers an' you get a quick burst from yohr wrist back. Clench the index and thumb, an' you get a constant feed. Works on both 'ands so I 'ope you're ambidextrous. You'll need t'be, 'cause you never know when you won't 'ave one 'and or the other free."
"Ace," is Pyro's response. Most of the technical explanation goes right out the other ear, his brain settling on the key words flame, flame, flame, and flame. He slips his legs in, then pushes an arm through each sleeve. "So... not a good idea to try that out inside then?" he smirks.
"Oh no, Mister Pyro, we're going t'try it right now." Toad zips up the suit for him, then starts giving him a rough once-over, pushing his limbs around and looking this way and that to see where alterations will have to be made. He's making some very detailed mental notes in the midst of all his rudeness, and once it's over with, he holds out the red goggles for John while tipping his own over his own eyes. "Y'gonna need one quick snap in each 'and first," he notes, "t'shift the magnesium to the front of the tubes. After that, should work beautif'ly 'til the tanks need a refill. Now." He points to the back of his room, where all the pigeon cages used to be. For just such an occasion he's cleared the space so there's nothing but a bear wall. "Point an' do y'business."
Pyro's expression brightens visibly at the go-ahead. Enough to even bear through the poking and prodding. Eyeing the goggles dubiously, he slips them over his head. Then at the confirmation, he holds his right hand out in front of him, cautious for just a moment as he gives the first snap. Nothing short of glee covers his face as the flame appears, and he snaps again a few times, eyes dancing at the flame at his fingertips. Then the other hand, not quite as coordinated but offering a few passing snaps until a steady flame appears. And then the show; John's getting into this. His face draws tight a moment, as the flames burn themselves out while he attempts to take control. That'll take some practice, however good the chemical might burn. But then with a last snap, he catches the fire, sending a funnel of fire away from him toward the wall. Now now, John. Use your indoors flame. He reluctantly cuts it off, then spins back to Toad. "Exceeellent," he says, voice full of appreciation.
Toad strokes his chin, scrutinizing the performance from behind his goggles. "Right, then. Strip it off." He heads over to his main workbench and scribbles a few things down on a convenient notepad. "I'll make the alterations and call you when it's done. Won't be long now. You'll be a walking fire 'azard in no time." He smirks over his shoulder at John.
"Well, ace," John smirks, unzipping the thing and peeling it off before hanging it back on the hook. "Much better than a lighter, that'd be right. Thought I was going to lose the thing last time. Oh!" he exclaims, suddenly remembering. "How's this thing with water? I... sorta set off the sprinkler systems when we broke the guys out."
Ah yes. Water. "Well in that you 'ave a bituvah problem," Toad admits. "Water does not put out a magnesium fire, in fact, it makes it worse. Could be to yohr advantage. Could get yohr face burnt off. Guess you'll just 'ave t'train yohrself at be'ter 'andling your flames, now won't you?" He smiles, then frowns. "Close the door on yohr way out."
Well, there is that. John stares for a moment, then shrugs and heads for the door, offering a grunt something akin to "Thanks" before he steps out into the hall. The door is slowly closed behind in. "Odd bloke," he mutters, shaking his head as he makes his way back to his own room. But still, FIRE SUIT!!! Hints of a smile flicker across his face, and oddly enough, he doesn't even reach for the lighter.