isaac heath makes doors (makemyway) wrote in theinvincibles, @ 2015-07-01 21:10:00 |
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Isaac slunk off the treadmill and collapsed onto the bench, throwing a towel over the back of his neck. The weights on his ankles (slightly unbalanced to compensate for his omnipresent tracker) came off with loud rips of velcro and only then did he tip himself onto his back and dropped his towel over his face. He heard footsteps after a few moments walking towards the bank of treadmills and he lifted a corner of the towel to see who it was. “Hey man.” Petros nodded a greeting in return. "Hey." In place of a gym towel that he'd just disintegrate, he had a microfiber rag slung over his shoulder. He looked ridiculous, black leggings under his short, spandex down to his fingertips, like an out-of-place ski jumper. Or maybe a burglar. He slid onto the bench next to Isaac. "Runner's high kick in yet?" Isaac hauled the top half of himself up to sitting again and pulled the towel off of his face. He looked up at his friend and heaved a heavy sigh. “No. I was sparring earlier, so I just did a couple of miles. Not enough for this shit to feel good. The things we do to get beach-ready,” he shot of off-handedly. Neither of them were going to a real beach. Just fun in the temperature-controlled, chlorinated pool. "Ha!" Petros let out a bark of laughter. Even at a real beach, his neoprene wetsuit wasn't any more flattering than his gym attire. "Anything for the June spread in the 'Men of the Lock 2016' calendar." Isaac raised one leg onto the bench and pointed a cocky finger gun at Petros, then winked like he was the cheesiest model in the universe. “We could fur-trim your body condom and you can be Mr. December,” he snickered, then laughed as he reached down to start wrapping up his weights. "Hey, fuck you," Petros replied, though he sounded much more amused than angry. After a few days of depression hanging over everyone in the facility, it felt good to joke around about stupid shit. "Obviously I ditch the body condom and lie in a pile of dead roses for February. Very symbolic." "You are an ironic hipster's dream come true," Isaac shot back. Stacked the two weights side by side. "How much talcum powder you have to put on to slip that on?" he then asked, gesturing at said body suit. Argo extended an arm, as though examining the back of his hand. After more than a decade of doing everything he could to avoid powers accidents, his layers were like a second skin, and he thought little of them. The gym, at least, was mostly a safe zone, all metal equipment and plastic mats, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. "Come on, it's not any worse than our field uniforms, and we wear those in public." It was a point of common complaint and Isaac immediately fell into his usual stance. "Fucking truth. I dunno why we can't dress like we are people and not cartoon characters.” He hauled himself up and gave Petros a shrugged eyebrow. “When’s your next day off?” "Gotta dress like clowns to remind the world we're circus freaks," Argo said. It sounded like a slogan he'd repeated before. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the bench. "Green's off Friday, but I'll spend most of it asleep," he added. "We have to cover the second half of Blue's overnight on Thursday, so that's two nights in a row. You?" “First half of Blue, then evening, then training, overnight, training,” Isaac recounted, frowning. “I keep thinking someday, some magical day, Red and Violet will have 1 day where they both get a day off, but it turns out now we’re even more screwed than we usually are. We need a vacation.” The we, of course, was he and Violet. Isaac understood why they’d never end up on the same team, but he thought that someone in the schedulers office took a dark kind of pleasure in keeping their few days off a month separate. "More screwed?" Argo couldn't keep the snicker out of his voice. Despite having never gone to college, in some ways, he was an overgrown frat boy. "Don't you mean less screwed?" “Hey,” he looked over at Petros skeptically. “When you put that body condom to actual use, you can make cracks about people’s sex lives,” he quipped, dragging himself over to the water fountain and throwing his face into the stream. “I was gonna say you should come over for dinner and Dixit.” Petros took a turn at the water fountain after Isaac finished. He chose to ignore the comment about the body condom, though Violet had previously suggested more or less the same thing -- he needed to get out more (but where?). "Thursday you both have training," he pointed out. He'd memorized the team schedule, feeling it was his responsibility as a team leader to know, but it was useful. "I was planning on sleeping off the overnights most of the day, but I could drag myself up for free food." “That ain’t the same. I’m talking about a real sleep-in, pajamas-all-day, day off together. We only ever get it when we take off together and then we gotta deal with Big Brother…” Isaac complained as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll make it breakfast though. Waffles.” "Mmmm." Argo wasn't fussy about food -- the man could drink Soylent, after all -- but for real waffles, he would gladly skip the blender and attempt to eat like a normal person, tiny, careful bites and all. "You two ever think about trying what Tim and Lucy did? Going for leadership together?" That got a short, bright laugh out of Isaac, almost a reflex. "Hell no. I'd be worthless. I'd spend all my time stalking Violet instead of doing my actual job." He worried when she was away, just like she did when he was out in the field, but he'd grown up with that worry too. His father would be gone for days at a time at the fire station and he'd been to enough funerals to worry that his would be the next. He could handle her being an operative and living with that fear. Being on a team with her and possibly watching it happen... not so much. "I don't know how they do it, to be honest." "Yeah, me neither," Agro agreed, nodding. "Talia's great, but if she moved in, I bet it wouldn't be long before I got sick of her." It was a different situation, since he and his second were friends and not dating or engaged, but he had plenty of experience with necessary compartmentalization. There hadn't been much in the way of personal space in the Argyropoulos home growing up, and it might not have taken Petros until age 26 to murder someone, had he not been able to avoid his numerous siblings at school. “Yeah,” Isaac sniggered, “she would be a fucking mess to live with. She doesn’t strike me as wanting anyone living in the room next door, let alone sharing a bathroom.” He tilted his head. “Not that me and Vi have it all squared away either. Different trying to live with someone you’re dating than just a roommate, that’s for sure.” Petros shrugged. It didn't matter who it was specifically or what they were like; too much time with any one person, and he figured he'd start to suffocate. "I'd be great for sharing a bathroom. Cleanest in the building," he said. That was what happened when a guy only washed with mineral oil and killed all mold on contact. "Can't speak to cohabitation, but you guys seem alright. Smart to get separate rooms." They weren’t in separate rooms currently, but the option was a comfort. Having an ‘office’ with a door that closed was helpful for two people who, while not shy, were definitely comfortable with the concept of alone time. At the same time, it was nice to curl up with Vi at night and not think about leaving at some point. “Bit by bit,” he mused mysteriously. After a beat, he moved from the fountain and gestured to Petros to have at the treadmills. “Waffles then?” he confirmed as he walked over to pick up his weights. "It's on the Rolodex." Petros did not actually keep a Rolodex, but he'd program an event into his phone later, giving it a cheeky name like 'Third Wheel Waffle Time.' He pointed at Isaac's weights. "Mind if I borrow those actually?" He shrugged. “They’re off, but just a little,” he mentioned, dropping them into his hands. “Happy running.” |