capodalina (capodalina) wrote in savingthegames, @ 2015-02-26 14:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | adalina schellenger, regin kain |
Who: Adalina Schellenger & OPEN OPEN OPEN OPEN OPEN to anyone!
What: Late night cardio
When: Friday, 2am
Where: 24-hour gym
Warnings: N/A
Status: Ongoing
TL;DR: Adalina has driven a previously-latent gangster past the breaking point (whoopsie), and he's going Magneto all up in the gym.
There was something to be said for being at the gym at 2am on a Friday night instead of being drunk at a bar. Doing anything so close to the witching hour always made it more fun, like things normally done in the light of day had no place in the shadows. There wasn't a wait for any of the machines for once. No row of slack-jawed sheep staring at reality television from their ellipticals. without the throngs of people, the light glared against mirrors and metal like a washed out photo. The distant clanking of weights gave away whoever was on whatever machine somewhere on the other side of the building. It wasn't a popular night to spend working out. A sweaty, out-of-breath Adalina did her umpteenth curl rep devoid of any audience she could see. Slim earbuds piped an audiobook into her ears, so she didn’t hear the footfalls of whoever was running laps around the circuit. Adalina left the 15lb weights out when she finished with them instead of putting them away. She pressed a towel to her reddened face, but was in no way sated. It had been one long fucking day of putting out fires at the warehouse, and wait-- was that? Was that baby laxative under her nail? God. How hard was it to traffic cocaine, really? Had these bozos even finished elementary school? She started running on the treadmill in the very middle of the row like she was being chased by a pack of rabid raccoons. Daddy didn't need to know what had happened earlier, and she trusted Lattinger not to run his damn mouth, but she'd bet Yatesh somehow already knew. He always knew. Fucking Yatesh. On the metal rack by the weight station, the 3lb weights began shaking, then rolled on top of one another like the room had been turned on its side. Then the 5lb weights shook. With a sharp clatter, the rack tipped over and spilled the metal weights into a tangled pile. The lighter weights slid against the wall by themselves, slowly dragging against it as if pulled by some invisible string by someone heading down the hallway on the other side of the wall. Or, maybe, like someone was dragging a really strong magnet along the wall. Adalina just kept running as the poltergeist-esque scene played out behind her. The weight bench was possessed next, sliding and inching its way to that wall that the weights were drawn to. Adalina’s feet hit the machine with a steady thud-thud-thud. When her bobby pins pulled hard at her hair, she made a face and cursed quietly, looking instinctively in the mirror on the wall in front of her. Before she could adjust them, though, they escaped her hair and went airborne, right for the jumbled stack of weights stuck against the far wall. Ping! And her earbuds weren’t far behind, popping out of her ears and yanking themselves out of the phone jack to fly after the bobby pins. Her head snapped to the side to see just what the hell was going on, and in a split-second she’d missed a step on the moving treadmill and nearly faceplanted onto it. HURK! But, possibly because she was amazing and possibly because she may or may not have made a pact with the devil, she managed to catch herself on the hand rails… for only a second. Then she fell with a yelp, right on the moving belt, and ended up crumpled on the floor. When she looked up, it was like a silent bomb had gone off: weights spun and flew through the air like they were made of paper mache and not, you know, really heavy metal. She ducked and covered her head as a particularly large weight smashed into the console of the treadmill in a shower of debris. That totally would have been her head. Through the cacophony of destruction – mirrors shattering, weights punching holes through walls, TVs getting smashed – came a somewhat familiar string of cussing. When she looked up again, it was someone she knew standing there with paperclips and tiny metal objects stuck all over him. That super weird gang member with Tourette’s. The one who’d been responsible for delivering bunk cocaine. The one she’d threatened to wear his scalp as a hat and use his balls as a keychain. He wasn’t much to look at, and scrawny to boot. There he was, twitching and cursing and occasionally shouting, but more importantly, glaring right. At. Adalina. As various nuts and bolts loosened from nearby equipment and launched through the air to stick to him, she glanced down at herself. The necklace Finn had given her didn’t so much as tremble toward the super-human magnet, so at least she knew it was real silver. A silver lining, one might say… in a different situation, one in which she wasn’t being attacked by a disgruntled gang member with powers. She stayed on the ground like it had been her idea to be there in the first place. It was pretty clear, even to a supe-hating human like her, that Bobby was new to his powers, but she wasn’t quite sure yet how that information would help her. “You’re just going to fuck this up like you fuck up everything else, kid!” The weights rolled and slid toward him, gathering at his feet. An employee ran into the room in a panic, then ran right back out, presumably to phone the cops. Like bringing a ton of cop cars and bullets and guns would do anything other than make it worse. The guy seemed to have a minor freakout as he shouted, “It”s BOBBY!” Oh, yeah. That was his name. And then another wave of weights shot through the air at his angry whim. Bigger ones, this time. A few barbells flew in all directions, and when the dust cleared, Adalina found herself pinned on her back by a particularly heavy one thrown across her waist. She stared up at the gym ceiling like this was somehow normal, and this sort of thing always happened, but it was still extremely annoying. She coughed from the ground. “Fine. Bobby.” And it had seemed like such a good idea to go to the gym alone. Hopefully one of her lackeys had followed her so they could save her and then get in trouble for following her, because Bobby was gearing up for another go. She could hear metal everywhere around her groaning, jittering, and sliding across the floor toward him, but it was the way the bar bell on her was dragging her to the turncoat gangster that really concerned her. "Bobby. Just." She tried to wriggle herself out from under the bar, but UGH. "Can we pick this up tomorrow morning?" Closer and closer still, despite her attempts at digging the heels of her sneakers into the floor. "Say, 10? Over brunch?" Bobby hefted the weight bench over his head, clearly with the help of his newly-found magnet powers. Shit, shit, shit. "Bottomless mimosas?" |