Weight Room

Weight Room

Caesar Drake
Hotel
Joined: Oct 13 2011, 12:39 AM

Jul 20 2014, 04:03 PM #1



WEIGHT ROOM
"In game terms, reality is broken." - Patrick Kapera, Crafty Games, creator of Spycraft, FantasyCraft and the MasterCraft game system

War is changing. Killing, however, is constant.
Quote
Like
Share

Joined: Dec 14 2014, 12:01 AM

Jun 19 2015, 01:49 AM #2

Yvonne was not training. She was not practicing her skills. She was not meditating, or studying the best way to break a bone. She was also not playing Mozart or Bach on the piano.

Instead, she was doing something simplistic: running.

Not on the running path, mind you, for she wasn't a fan of mosquitoes. Rather, she was running on one of the half-a-dozen treadmills in the weight room, her feet hitting the belt in time to Vivaldi's "Springtime Suite".

The Blonde had been going at it for almost fifteen minutes, and she was proud to say there was not yet a drop of sweat upon her brow. Grandfather would be pleased by this. It means I am in my best shape. Of course, if she had to be honest with herself, Yvonne was pleased, too. It meant she was ready for anything and anyone, at least physically. But hey, that was half the battle won already.

If only she could find her peace of mind. Then she would truly be a force to deal with -- a perfect specimen, capable of anything she put her mind to.

Both warmed and disturbed by these thoughts, the German instead focused on the melody of the music, even humming a few bars under her breath as she went. After all, she was alone in here.

Completely and utterly alone, with no one to bother her.

Aka, heaven.
Profile >&#124;< Stats
Quote
Like
Share

Roland Pruitt
Trainee
Joined: Jul 31 2013, 02:36 AM

Jun 21 2015, 10:04 AM #3

There was no getting around it. Roland had to get in better shape.

While the suit provided an exoskeleton that vastly increased his strength, there would be times when he would not be in the suit. Beyond that, he was finding that without the hydraulic hardware that fitted him into the suit, he had a hard time lugging the pieces of the suit around. he kept having a terrible scenario run like a twisted nightmare in his head of not being able to manage putting the suit on should he find himself separated from it. He could work on the suit to make entry and exit easier, but he had to just get stronger on his own as well. It might mean the difference between life and death one day.

Entering the weight room at the Center, he was pleasantly surprised to see that he was not alone. There was a blond woman running on the treadmill, seemingly lost in her exercise routine. She was immaculate in her body shape and fitness. Roland couldn't actually recall when he had seen a woman in the past weeks of working. No, that wasn't accurate. There were women that worked there but he hadn't recalled seeing any training like the other trainees. Maybe that was it. Or maybe it was her strange lines that wrapped around her body. Maybe...

Shaking his head, he focused on the task at hand, approaching the various training devices. Fortunately they had diagrams in their instructions. Pretty straightforward. he took a seat at something called the Butterfly Curl. Looking at the instructions, he reached down and set the small peg to sixty pounds. He had to figure out where he stood, after all. Resting against the bench seat, Roland gripped the levers and began to compress them, sweat immediately beading on his forehead. He let go and the weights fell and made a loud clang. Louder than he expected. He looked around and slid the peg to fifty, trying again.
Quote
Like
Share

Joined: Dec 14 2014, 12:01 AM

Jun 25 2015, 03:37 PM #4

Woe to Yvonne, for not noticing the new arrival. Woe to Yvonne, for not being as alert or prepared as she thought.

The young woman had been so focused on the melody of Vivaldi, had been so focused on making sure her footsteps were perfectly in time with the beat, that she'd failed to notice anyone join her in the room. Nor did she notice said person take up a seat at one of the training devices.

What she did notice was the loud clang which managed to perpetrate her classical haze. Unfortunately.

Yvonne jumped at the noise, her feet leaving the treadmill for half a millisecond before coming down again. Except she didn't land gracefully; her left foot rolled underneath her, causing her entire leg to go after it. Despite her scrabbling for a grip, she ended up being run onto the floor.

Her ankle hurt, and was probably strained, but that was not the focus of her concern. Rather, her concern was on the fact that she'd embarrassed herself deeply, in front of another stranger. And that stranger was to blame.

Oh, she was hot.

"Du dummer Narr!" she spat, forgetting herself for a moment. "Look what you did!" Her green eyes flashing, Yvonne gripped one of the nearby machines and hoisted herself up. Limping over to the still-running machine, she shut it off and took her earbuds out before shooting another dagger-laced glare at the stranger.
Profile >&#124;< Stats
Quote
Like
Share

Joined: May 26 2015, 04:21 AM

Jul 8 2015, 09:15 PM #5

Griffin took his time inspecting the training center, admiring the unique architecture and minimalist decor, before entering the Gym. His shirt was still wet and warm with sweat as he entered the room. He could hear the rhythmic stepping of sneakers against the rubber tarp of a treadmill; a blonde woman with athletic features was obviously in the zone, and was essentially unreachable to the world. Other than that, the room was coated in an atmosphere of relative silence.

The silence of the weight room was then ended not with a grunt, but with a SLAM.

Pruitt. Griffin could see the meek man's visage from across the weight room as he entered. He noticed the woman was obviously annoyed at Roland's lack of gym etiquette, and had admonished him in her mother tongue.

Before the situation could get any more awkward for the poor sod, Griffin had made it an effort to walk in between the two of them before a confrontation began. He then looked to the female, giving an honest smile. Smiling wasn't an easy thing, but by God, he was doing it, the corners of his mouth drawn up, pushing up the skin around it in a smile.

"I'm pretty sure that was an accident; He's not one for practical jokes." Was Roland? Hell if he knew, he just needed to play it off as such. He then turned to Pruitt, whom he had met earlier on the running path.

"Fancy seeing you here, Roland...Thought you'd head back to your suit and work on some soldering or something...Hey, I got a great idea; How's about you work out with me? I'll spot you, and you can learn proper form..." He then rested his hands on the arms of the machine, keeping the weight down as he had lurched over the top of the machine, his green eyes meeting Pruitt's.

"That wasn't nice of me, Sorry. You've got every right to be here like anyone else..."

Roland reminded Griffin of a kid he knew in the service. Eyes wide with inquisitive fervor, but restrained by self-discipline and social anxiety.
Quote
Like
Share

Solosolo Kalolo
Trainee
Joined: Jul 26 2015, 07:55 PM

Aug 1 2015, 04:38 PM #6

If one were to have a conversation and that conversation revolved around the telling of a story and then the person hearing said story always had something that was bigger and better than the theme of that story then it wouldn't be very hard to imagine what would happen next. Stepping into the weight room came a shadowed figure who didn't originally look all that visible given that they stayed out of sight. There were fitness clothes and a gym bag present but that bag and the strap to the bag pressed against this newcomer's shoulders probably had every appearance of being exceptionally heavy. In fact when the bag was dropped to the ground it created a loud, "THUD!" sound. There was a strap shaped impression on this person's shoulder as if that bag weighed more than what it probably should have.

On the bottom of the bag was duct tape because in the past this person carried so much in this poor thing to the point where the bottom of it got busted. The bag was being rummaged through. A water bottle, weight lifting gloves, some headphones, an old school Walkman cassette player and a stop watch were retrieved. The watch was placed on the person's wrist and a time of seven hours was set. Now, of course, some would call that a joke because not many would spend seven hours in a weight lifting room or at least not lifting very heavy weighs for that long.

Inside of the carrying apparatus were weights. Of course some looking could have possibly asked the question, "Who the hell carries weights to a weight room?" The person in question didn't have to bend down far as their arms were apparently from the middle ages where they were on a body stretching torture device with such long arms. Those arms were covered by a black long-sleeved shirt that was tight fitting. White shorts and white shoes was the rest of the attire. The thing about the appearance of this person wasn't so much the unusual body features or the overachieving but the skin color. They looked like they had been dipped in melted cherry drop candies for a week.

Whoever this was they certainly loved to stand in the doorway that was made of glass within the sun shining through with a bright glow. The more the sun shined the more pumped up that appeared. This person began hopping up and down as if to psych themselves out. They cracked their knuckles. The neck was twisted from side to side. The person even went into some stretching exercises so as not to harm themselves while lifting. There was special attention payed to the shoulder and arm stretches. Given their massive upper body appearance it couldn't have been tough to realize this person had to have done an awful lot of power lifting.

Now the weights in the bag was not meant to be lifted. It would appear that the collapsible weight bar and the weights inside were just there for either display or this person carried this bag just to train during the walk coming here. They did, however, take out black objects that looked like little sandbags. They applied those bags to their wrists and ankles. These were weighted. It appeared that this person wanted their session to be as difficult as possible. So in order words they were prepared to lift, have to do more lifting and somehow recover from that punishment to the body.

The red skinned person spotted a bench. They took a walk over. On the top of their head was a small black beanie that was removed. Long blonde hair fell out of the head gear. The chest portion along with the long hair revealed this was in fact a woman. She kept ducking her head because even though she wouldn't have been hit by the ceiling fans above she just wanted to make sure her head wasn't clocked with a blade. Then again when someone stands at six feet, four inches some could understand the concern.

That bench she picked out was chosen for good reason. It was an adjustable bench that could be modified to her height as not all benches would fit all people. She was well above average for her height so of course she'd need to do some modifying. Three forty five pound weights were placed onto both sides of the bar on the bench. She thought that was a good starting weight to go by. Of course by her standards she could probably lift more but maximum weight to her wasn't as important as repetition and how many she could get in. The clamps were placed onto the side of the bars to keep the weights from shifting and/or falling off.

She laid down on the bench and grabbed the bar. Her face went from happy and almost carefree to an angry expression. This person appeared to want the weights to be seen as her enemy and one wouldn't have to wait long to see what this person thought of their enemies and what they would do to them. Her grip got tighter and hard enough where even with red skin their finger tips turned white. The bar was lifted and the first repetition was done so fast that it wouldn't be crazy if someone thought the weighs were not real and this person painted some little plastic wheels black and put "45 Lbs." on each of them. Not even twenty seconds later she was already up to nineteen repetitions. Thirty seconds later she was up to twenty nine. A whole minute? She had done fifty eight repetitions before finally placing the bar back in place. She didn't even break a sweat nor did she need a spotter.
Quote
Like
Share

Caesar Drake
Hotel
Joined: Oct 13 2011, 12:39 AM

Aug 2 2015, 08:47 AM #7

Camilla entered the weight room and meandered her way through the machines toward one of the lifecycles. Dressed in sweats with a tablet in her hand, she hardly paid any attention to the amazon with the weights. There were new people in the Training Center all the time so it was nothing new to see someone else here. She usually did this routine early in the morning so as to not disrupt everyone else's schedule during the day.

Starting the bicycle like machine up, Camilla sat down and started pedaling absent-mindedly with her eyes on the tablet. She had been running an experiment most of the night and had only left it alone for a few hours to grab some sleep. Now, the results of the ongoing experiment were still coming in but it was a long way from being finished. Setting the tablet down, she proceeded to focus on pushing her legs. While not a gymrat, she had taken up some basic cardio just to try and stay fit. A couple of months ago, Col. Dalton had told she spent too much time in the lab working and not eating enough or working out. She intended to change that.

Looking at the window, which was reflecting the interior of the weight room since it was dark outside, she finally noticed the female mountain of muscle behind her and off to one side. The thing which caught her attention more than anything was the red skin and which made her curious. Grabbing the tablet, she jumped off of the cycle machine and made her way over. Approaching gingerly as she was unsure of the temperament of her "subject", she spoke softly but loud enough to be heard. "Hi, um, I was curious about... about your skin being reddish. Is that natural? I mean, we've had aliens, not that I think you are an alien but we've had them here at one point. ... Is it part of your power or what makes you strong enough to properly lift me with ease?"

"In game terms, reality is broken." - Patrick Kapera, Crafty Games, creator of Spycraft, FantasyCraft and the MasterCraft game system

War is changing. Killing, however, is constant.
Quote
Like
Share

Solosolo Kalolo
Trainee
Joined: Jul 26 2015, 07:55 PM

Aug 3 2015, 03:43 PM #8

Now when it came to this person's temper there were issues. Their face was set to frowning and it wasn't because of the weight lifting. In fact this person appeared to be in love with the idea of attempting to look at terrifying as they could possibly appear. She growled as a way of further psyching herself out. The weights were becoming heavy and sweat was staring to appear on under the arms, around the shoulders, chest and back. Before any of that sweat could have gotten on the bench she leaned up and went back to her bag. Some towels were retrieved. She placed that towel on the bench so that when she laid down again she wouldn't make the bench slippery.

The sound of a cell phone ringing could have possibly been heard to anyone close to this woman. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a smartphone. Around her neck was a bluetooth device. The phone was put back into her pocket and she answered the call with a long cord that could extend from the bluetooth neck piece. At first she didn't say anything for a minute or two. She kept on pumping iron as if this was just a one sided conversation or some sort of recording that didn't have to be responded to. Her eyes lit up and a frown that looked worse that before came on her face.

"Excuse me? Look, I don't know who you think you are but you got the wrong person. I went out with you once. Now if you keep this up next time I see you I can give you a legit reason not to like me outside of you thinking I didn't call you back fast enough," she said.

Apparently there was a date that happened a few days ago. The rather large woman was trying to be normal and hang out with people. She made a judgement error in her suitor on that Saturday. The person she took out for lobster tails and crab legs turned out to be somewhat of a clinger or at least she thought so. This woman, if anyone knew her well, would realize just how she had a tendency to treat people. By now anyone could tell she was either a Crusader or someone who was attempting to become a Crusader. Such depth to weight and physical training also meant that combined with the possessed or sought after profession means that she probably didn't have much time for a serious relationship. Some other Crusaders probably had more than enough time to be with someone romantically but to be in the shape she's in and do the things she does one must work harder than most could ever imagine.

"I'm going to say this one last time. Stop asking me my address because I keep telling you no, don't call me anymore and don't tell me you love me after knowing me for three days. I'm sorry. You're not a bad person. You're just not very good either. You wanted honesty and that's brutally honest. I, Solosolo Kalolo, don't like you. I said my whole damn name so you wouldn't get confused again," she said.

The phone call was ended. She went through her phone to place that number on the block list. But that name she invoked probably could explain a lot about the things she said, did and how she appeared. Solosolo Kalolo was apart of the new blood at the Crusader outfit. She needed a new profession after she decided to retire from professional mixed martial arts fighting due to her having powers. There were times she wished she had the capacity to be so dishonest as to fight while being what she was. The money was good. She could have possibly had fame and notoriety. In fact that was somewhat certain.

Her response to the person coming up to her and sending verbal queries her way was to be expected if anyone knew what kind of a person Solosolo was. Her eyebrows quirked up. The large woman felt like she had one awkward conversation but now she was being approached by someone she couldn't just hang up on. She smirked. Hearing the word alien being considered with her opinion was a bit insulting in her opinion. She decided to play along a little bit. She felt like this other woman was being somewhat insensitive and Solosolo wasn't the most sensitive person in the world.

"Doesn't compute. Human subject appears curious about red hue to my skin. Must note that I must polish off my probe. I have to do prostate checks later. I must also return to planet Samoa which is apart of the galaxy of the United States of America which would make me an American two thousand model," she said.

Of course that was all in code. Besides the prostate check and probe comments everything else was relevant to who she was. Solosolo was from Samoa and she was an American despite that country only being a United States territory. But she found the whole premise of what she was assuming the assumption was with the question to be utterly ridiculous. Of course she was just assuming things at this point. Thoughts like that was not unusual for Solosolo. She was a very good fighter but not exactly a people's person. "Just kidding. But one thing I'm not kidding around is I think most people who look like me or outside of what you would consider normal have it hard enough fitting in without people always pointing out that we are different. I'm red. I get it. If you want to know about get to know me before immediately going to my appearance. How would you like it if you looked like this and someone always looked at you or asked you about it? Would be annoying, wouldn't it?" she asked.
Quote
Like
Share

Nehri D'Encanto
Trainee
Joined: Feb 20 2014, 06:46 AM

Aug 4 2015, 01:01 AM #9

Nehri grumbled angrily as he made his way to the weight room, according to one of the trainers he needed to be more active to in his physical training in order to get back into the field. And he definitely wanted to get back out in the field, he was sick of this place already, no new stories or even interesting people to talk to, let alone a nearby graveyard he could disappear to and waste his time at. A loud CLANG resounded from the room ahead of him, making his stop in his tracks the slim jim he was munching on, hanging halfway out of his mouth. After a few seconds, he shook his head and kept going, it was probably some stupid newbie trying out the weight room for the first time.

Entering, 'Ri's eyebrows raised in surprise before chuckling a little to himself when he noted how many people were actually stuffed in here, maybe he wasn't the only one sent in her for more physical training, and that would explain the loud crashing sound he had heard from the entrance way earlier. Finishing up the last bite of his greasy snack, he made his way over towards one of the bike machine, which was in his opinion probably one of the easier cardio machines to use in her, noting the young woman on the other machine jumping off hers with an excited air to her.
Thanks to Aprill!
Nehri D'Encanto - Trainee
Profile*~*Stats
Quote
Like
Share

Caesar Drake
Hotel
Joined: Oct 13 2011, 12:39 AM

Aug 5 2015, 03:56 PM #10

Camilla shifted her weight slightly from one foot to the other woman spoke in jest. She nodded a few times before starting to reply. "Sorry to have disturbed from such an important phone call you were having earlier. My name is Camilla Tiegland and I'm one of the instructors here. I am also a scientist who looks for the theoretical and the unusual like your skin being red. I'm driven to ask why things are the way they are, what makes them tick, and how they came to be that way. My questions were not an attempt to irritate you. If you want to talk further, you'll find on the cycle over there." She gestured with her thumb to where she had been working out as she returned to it.

Making her way back over to where she had been, Camilla restarted the machine and picked up the tablet as she started to cycle again. She smiled briefly as she noticed Nehri also using a machine. The man dealt more with the occult and supernatural than with actual science. He could afford to learn more about the physical sciences as far as Camilla was concerned. The information on her tablet had given her the conclusions she was expecting. Smiling to herself, she sent the tablet back on a stable part of the cycle and started peddling harder.


"In game terms, reality is broken." - Patrick Kapera, Crafty Games, creator of Spycraft, FantasyCraft and the MasterCraft game system

War is changing. Killing, however, is constant.
Quote
Like
Share

Joined: May 26 2015, 04:21 AM

Aug 7 2015, 08:11 PM #11

There wasn't much else to help Pruitt with if he was going to get his own workout finished before dinner.

He left Roland to his devices, and headed to the free-weights. Grabbing two 20LB dumbbells, he then took a deep breath and slowly extended the weights to his front, stretching his arms as far as physically possible. With that, he focused on one point in the room, an empty spot of wall between metabolic weight charts and a mirror. Not long after, he felt the moisture on his head begin to collect and slowly fall past his face as he held this position, flexing his core to maintain balance.

The room had come alive within a few moments of his arrival. Perhaps this was where the real communication between team-mates was. He silently took another breath as he then changed positions, now standing in a "Y" with the weights allowed to fall to shoulder-height, before being lifted back up to their starting position.

His mind stayed focus, keeping count with how many repetitions he had completed as he then reached 20. He stopped, took a few deep breaths, then returned to the "Y" stance, beginning his second Set.

"Strange. Even with all these people, I feel welcome. I haven't even introduced myself or anything..."
Quote
Like
Share

Solosolo Kalolo
Trainee
Joined: Jul 26 2015, 07:55 PM

Aug 9 2015, 12:03 PM #12

Of course there were times that Solo's personality and general reputation of being a rather rude person could be proven to have some accuracy. She thought she was a little mean to the person who was just asking her questions. Her head swiveled towards a mirror and realized that there was a six foot four, two hundred plus pound red skinned woman that had the energy of a rabbit during mating season. She couldn't exactly blame the person if they were asking questions. After all Solo had to admit she would be a little curious herself if she ever ran across someone like her. The reason why she lashed out was due to frustration.

While some other people would wonder why she doesn't just love her abilities and her appearance Solo sees her current situation as a curse more so than a gift. This, whatever it was, ruined her life. She can't exactly go out into public without being stared at which she hated. There was no possible way of her returning to her previous profession due to the fact she'd have an unfair advantage. Solo was a lot of things but a cheater wasn't one of them. There was no chance of her compromising her integrity and fighting in the octagon again while being what she was now. Nothing about even the thought of her attempting that sounded like fairness. If she was knocking people out before then she'd practically, or in many cases literally, kill them.

"Hey, wait up," she said.

She replaced the weight bar and the weights attached to the sides of those bars. The woman who asked her questions did get followed. She wanted to apologize. She was rude, nasty and often was like that for no other reason than just to be herself. However if she wanted to become a Crusader she would have learn to deal with different people. Even if she had to be nice despite her having a rude personality then that was a sacrifice of a small magnitude that she was willing to make. She watched the person peddle on the equipment.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. So, here, let me just tell you. I'm what you call a solar panel person. I guess? You see some other people would call it solar empowerment. I absorb energy from the sun, and sometimes even artificial sources but the sun is the best, and my skin color changes and I'm like a bottle of Sunny Delight. You know, 'power of the sun' in my pants?" she explained.
Quote
Like
Share

Ethan Emmanuel
Trainee
Joined: Aug 11 2015, 03:17 AM

Aug 11 2015, 05:48 PM #13

Through the door of the gym walked a man in his 50s wearing a cheesy superhero costume. Despite being old enough to be someone’s dad he was build like a truck, a kind of odd statuesque quality about him as he walked in. In one hand he carried a small nondescript black duffel bag and in the other hand he grasped a green runners water bottle. The man seemed to be... posing. Even as he walked he did so with such arrogance and practice that is would have been funny if the ripped grandpa didn’t look like he could do some serious damage (ok... it was a little funny).

He seemed to regard the room as if it were his kingdom, a big dumb boy scout grin on his face. All and all he looked like a kid on his first day of school trying to act tough. Retrieving the largest dumbbell he could find he grabbed the oversized piece of iron with one of his meat-paw fists and began to curl. After a single curl he looked approvingly down at the weight.

“Remember kids, working out works the body and the mind.” He announced, mostly to himself, though he appeared to be quoting something and did so with clear enjoyment at having uttered the statement.
Quote
Like
Share

Caesar Drake
Hotel
Joined: Oct 13 2011, 12:39 AM

Aug 15 2015, 06:51 PM #14

"I believe we did, Solo. Good to know you are not as rude as our initial discussion." Camilla never stopped cycling as she continued to talk. "If you are interested in seeing the possible limits of what your powers are or could do, this is certainly the place to discover their boundaries. ... I not only test through scientific methods what people are capable of but work here as an instructor on science classes should you like to learn anything new beyond the weights." A beeping started sounding off from her wrist and she noted the time. "Unfortunately, all you trainees, make sure to play nice with each other until the next training session."


"In game terms, reality is broken." - Patrick Kapera, Crafty Games, creator of Spycraft, FantasyCraft and the MasterCraft game system

War is changing. Killing, however, is constant.
Quote
Like
Share

Bowen Locke
Trainee
Joined: Oct 14 2015, 06:51 AM

Nov 4 2015, 07:43 AM #15

Beads of sweat dripped down Bowen's forehead as he struggled desperately against the heavy weight pushing down on him. Breathing out slowly, Bowen tensed his entire body, refusing to sacrifice a scrap of form as the bar lifted higher inch by bloody inch. Finally, as the air almost expelled itself completely from his lungs, Bowen finished the set. Closing his eyes in relief, Bowen held the weight up in the air for a second before setting it upon the rack. Sitting up, Bowen reached for his smartphone and began playing a round of Candy Crush as he rested for his next set.

Back home, Bowen had liked to chat to pass downtime at the gym; however, with the gym in the Crusaders' Training Center almost always empty, Bowen had been forced to pass the time through another means.

Most would claim that lifting heavy weights alone was extremely dangerous, and Bowen agreed fully. Bowen enjoyed the extra challenge of lifting alone, and enjoyed the danger. Besides, it was not like he would have a spotter waiting for him when he arrived wherever the Crusaders decided to deploy him.

Hopefully they would deploy him somewhere soon. Bowen was beginning to tire of the repetitive daily routine inherently present in the Crusaders' Training Center. He was almost beginning to wish for something catastrophic to happen if only to break up the monotony of his daily existence.

Glancing up, Bowen was shocked with what he saw displayed on the tiny television set in the corner of the room. Tearing out his earphones, Bowen launched himself across the room to turn the volume of the television high enough to hear.

What he was witnessing was incomprehensible, and it shook him to his core. Rage and disbelief began growing in Bowen's belly as he watched the news report of a terror attack on a train station in Manchester City. Apparently there had also been attacks in Dusseldorf and Amsterdam.

If not for the peaceful tranquility of the empty weight room, Bowen may have lost it. He viewed terrorism as an extremely horrible and cowardly act. A terrorist attack on the infastructure and innocent civllians of Great Britain was absolutely devastating for Bowen, and the worst part of the entire situation was that there was nothing Bowen could do about it.

Bowen watched the news until they shifted the focus to America's weird football scores from last weekend. Apparently a team called the Cardinals had won. Bowen shook his head. Americans had some pretty odd names for sport teams.

Turning back to the rack, Bowen lowered himself down for another set.
Quote
Like
Share