Atlas Gym, Monday (9/14)

[notallbluemonks]

The second that Beau stepped through the doorway of the gym this morning, something round and about fist-sized came flying at her head. She snapped up a hand and managed to catch it just before it smashed into her nose, and -- it was a rubber band ball. From the front desk, apparently, and thrown by no one she could see, which was a damn shame because how was she supposed to throw it back if she didn't know what constituted 'back' in the first place?

"Dude," she said out loud, "there's plenty of shit around here to work out your throwing arm with that doesn't involve the office supplies, okay? Just saying."

Not that she had anyone to actually address with this, so it mostly just looked like she was tossing a rubber band ball up and down in one hand and glaring at the world at large, which was ... not really all that out of the ordinary, was it?

[OOC: Iiiiiiiii don't knoooooooow. Gym/post open, SP likely, etc. etc. etc.]

Comments

[firstofitskind]

So the thing was, sometimes after those regular therapy appointments on the mainland, Liam came to the gym for his regular Monday workout in a good mood, having gotten stuff off his chest or feeling like he'd made progress or something like that.

And then there were the days where whatever they'd been discussing left him still trying to process, expression distant and glassy-eyed as he made his way directly to the heavy bag, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

Today was definitely the latter. Sorry, Beau. He'd come back to himself enough to say hi eventually.

[notallbluemonks]

When he did, Beau would be ready to come over and ask, gruffly, "You need, like, something less passive than that bag to try and hit?"

Look, as often as he was in here on her work days, she liked to think she could tell which one of those therapy days he'd just had pretty much as soon as he walked in.

[firstofitskind]

Yeah, that Beau was good at figuring that out wasn’t at all surprising; after all, not only was she just a very observant person in general, but she knew Liam pretty well.

So, yeah, after a few minutes i’d rather mindless activity, he was looking a little more clear-headed.

“Hey,” he said, stopping long enough to nod over at her. “Sure.”

[notallbluemonks]

She had a couple of notebooks' worth of notes and observations about him back at home, too, but she hadn't mentioned that and didn't really have any plans to do so either. It was just a thing she did.

Beau tossed him a bottle of water, flecks of condensation tracing a brief sparkling arc through the air in its wake.

"One of those mornings, huh?"

It sounded like a generic question, but she was betting on him knowing what she meant.

[firstofitskind]

... Didn't everyone have something like that, though?

Liam unscrewed the cap from the bottle and took a long gulp, taking a moment to press the cold bottle against his forehead.

"Yeah," he admitted with a slight grimace. "It was. Kind of a lot."

[notallbluemonks]

"Mmm," said Beau, who still didn't quite know how to sympathize like a normal person. "So, like, fuck whichever jackass made it be a lot, am I right?"

She was already heading for the sparring mats as she spoke. And maybe wondering if any of the memories she'd gotten off of him a couple of weeks ago had anything to do with what had him all fucked up today.

[firstofitskind]

“Well, he’s dead now, so,” Liam shrugged, putting the bottle aside before he too headed for the mat.

Her wondering was pretty on the mark, yeah. That week had dredged up a lot of shit, they were working their way through it.

Also thanks no thanks, DW, for the dropped notif

[notallbluemonks]

Beau's fist was already whistling at his face as soon as he did set foot on the mat.

"Oh. Okay then." Beau could have asked if that was a good thing or not, but she wasn't his therapist. She was here for catharsis; it called for way less patience on her part.

[firstofitskind]

"My father," Liam grunted out as he ducked and twisted, one hand shooting out to grab at her wrist. Beau had already gotten a bit of a glimpse of how much an asshole Ronald Sandoval could be, after all.

[notallbluemonks]

Beau was just a fraction too slow in pulling her hand back because yeah, she had definitely gotten a glimpse, and the way her fists and jaw clenched from her twinge of sympathy froze her up just long enough to make the difference.

"That asshole," she said, and instead of trying to pull back stepped in toward him instead, elbow up to go for his chin.

[firstofitskind]

"Yeah," Liam said, head rocking back as Beau's elbow connected. "Bout sums it up."

Never mind that Liam had never been capable of fully hating the man, some part of him desperate for his father's approval and love.

Which was what they'd spent a lot of today's appointment going over, yes.

[notallbluemonks]

Yeah. Some part of Beau might always be the kid trying stubbornly to live up to Thoreau Lionett's expectations for just once in her life.

Which was why there was a wry little twist to her voice when she -- after trying to follow up the elbow with a knee to the gut -- added, "That's what Kar calls mine, too. I guess ... well, you saw, kind of."

[firstofitskind]

"Uh-huh," Liam confirmed. "She's not wrong."

The elbow, he'd made an effort to dodge. The knee... he didn't, letting it connect solidly with his midsection.

Sorry, Beau. Apparently five words in a row was about as talkative as he was going to be for a while.

[notallbluemonks]

Yeah, no, she could totally respect that. She'd had plenty of days like that herself.

She just shrugged, acknowledging the statement without entirely committing to it, and threw herself into the spar for a while. Let him work out as much of his frustration as he could on the mats -- and she deliberately let a few more hits that she could easily have dodged land. Hey, it kept the part of her that felt more alive with cuts and bruises happy, and if it made him feel better, bonus.

"Gotta work off that last batch of pastries Jester sent, man."

[firstofitskind]

Their friendship had a lot of give and take, and sometimes what was being given (and taken!) was punches.

The back-and-forth went on for a while, until finally, one of Beau's hits had Liam hitting the mat and staying down.

He held up a hand and waved it in a vague 'I'm okay, just not moving right now' gesture.

"Thanks," he said. "Needed that."

[notallbluemonks]

Beau didn't help him up; she just dropped onto the mat beside him in a satisfied sprawl.

"Kinda had a feeling, yeah. You good now?"

[firstofitskind]

Silence, for a few moments, as Liam took stock of every ache and bruise, the hurt crowding out the noise in his head.

"Yeah. I'm good."

[notallbluemonks]

And that was another reason they got along; Beau frequently craved violence for the exact same reasons.

"Cool, that'll be like fifty bucks then," was what she said, though, shrugging one shoulder.

[firstofitskind]

Liam let out a snort of laughter. "How 'bout I just buy you a beer sometime?" he retorted.

[notallbluemonks]

"Just one?" Beau pretended to whine.

[firstofitskind]

Liam rolled his eyes. "Fine. Three. But I get to pick them."