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Post by Josephine Elwel on Oct 26, 2011 21:28:53 GMT -5
Joey could be kind of obsessed with working out, and she wasn't always entirely sure why. It just seemed familiar and comfortable.
Of course, if asked about it, though she wouldn't answer truthfully, her thoughts would be that she needed to be in shape considering her less than ethical profession, and, deeper than that, that she needed to be just as strong as a six foot tall man.
Also, running soothed her. When she was lost, as she sometimes felt, or stressed, she could just run and run and forget where she was, and she calmed down. Being too high strung was a habit that she couldn't seem to shake.
Today was one of those days. There was a royal dignitary that she had been hired to go after, and he was... evasive. Probably well trained to never fall into a pattern, which made it all the more difficult to get to him. It frustrated her. Not to mention, the dreams had come back. Usually, they were of the night her father went mad. Sometimes they were of things she didn't remember, and she didn't know where the dreams came from. But they were never happy.
She was currently running away her restlessness on a magical treadmill. It would change the tread to feel as though she were running through a forest, adding a fallen tree branch here, a little hill there, rocks to run over or around.
After about an hour, drenched in sweat, Joey slowed the machine to a walking pace so that she could cool down. The run helped. If the dignitary was going to do something different every day, eventually , despite his best efforts, a pattern to the randomness would emerge too, and then she would be smart enough to figure it out. He would slip up eventually and she would be ready for him when he did.
Finally, she stopped the treadmill and reached for her water.
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Oct 26, 2011 23:29:37 GMT -5
He couldn't help but notice her. It wasn't just that there weren't a lot of women at the gym on a regular basis. Her focus and intensity, along with her beautiful face and tiny frame made her a definite standout. During his own workout on the magical treadmill next to her, he kept being distracted from the magically simulated landscape by looking over at her instead. It wasn't in a creepy way, but she fascinated him. It was hard to look away.
And yet, it was by pure coincidence that he finished his workout a minute before she did and was drying off some of the excess sweat from his brow when he gave an accidental twitch of the towel, knocking her water bottle to the floor. The lid stayed on, but the bottle rolled under his treadmill.
"Oh, sorry. I'll get that for you," he said, grinning at her.
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Oct 28, 2011 0:19:27 GMT -5
(I don't know if your PT is rubbing it in to me, reminding yourself, or a warning for Joey, but I like it, lol. Subtle).
He may have thought he was being friendly too her, but Joey was on the alert the second her bottle was knocked over. It was only because she knew to look for things like this. She would do something like that on purpose... knock someone's bottle over, pick it up and lace the mouthpiece with poison or a potion, hand it back with a smile and walk away.
"No, I've got it," she said, making a move to reach for it, but he beat her to it, and her eyes never left his hands. He didn't touch the lid, but she still couldn't be sure. She mumbled a thank you when he handed it back, refraining from drinking from it. Her paranoid, ever cautious nature only intensified when she realized she knew his face. She instantly wondered if he was following her, learning her patterns. She stared at his face for a while, as if trying to memorize it.
"Right. Thanks," she repeated, nodding her head once. "I should be on my way."
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Oct 28, 2011 23:07:23 GMT -5
(Lol. Kind of all of the above, actually.  ) None of that would have ever occurred to Doug, and he would have been shocked if anyone ever suggested it to him. Really, he was just an ordinary guy, and he had no reason to suspect that she was anything other than an ordinary girl. Well, maybe not ordinary, but not anyone to worry about, either. But he did notice how she didn't drink from the water bottle after he handed it back to her. He assumed, however, that she was probably just a germophobe or something... he hadn't touched the lid, but it had rolled under his treadmill, and he supposed that could be a little unsavory. "I'm really sorry," he said again. "I'm not usually such a klutz. Hey... I could buy you something from the juice bar, to make it up to you?" |
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Nov 1, 2011 2:16:04 GMT -5
Paranoia was in the job description, really. There were too many stories of a hit that backfired, or revenge, all of that. She had already sized this guy up and decided she could take him.
It surprised her when he kept talking to her, and she stopped, eyes on him. "It's all right," she assured him. More assessing... he was too friendly to be a threat. You didn't spend time with your victims. And as far as Joey knew, no one had a reason to be after her anyway. She was too good at not being caught. Either way, if he wanted to get to know her, it couldn't hurt to try and get to know him in return. That's how Josephine stayed alive, how she lived her life- assume everyone was an enemy. It was a sad way to live, but it hadn't steered her wrong yet.
"You don't have to buy me anything," she said, going against her better judgment here. "But I could stand something to drink."
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Nov 2, 2011 0:53:20 GMT -5
Ah, so that made sense. She was one of those modern women who didn't let the man pay. Well, it was fine. He wasn't going to push it. He just wanted to talk to her, and if she would feel more comfortable paying for her own drink, that was OK with him.
"OK, cool," he said then, nodding. "I'll walk down there with you."
He started to lead the way, resisting the urge to offer her his arm, and fully expecting her to catch up with him. "Anyway, I'm Doug. What's your name?"
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Nov 11, 2011 1:24:30 GMT -5
She considered lying to him. Just making up some girly sounding name, and never letting him be the wiser. Merlin knew in all of her training, she knew better than to let this guyy have any details about her, especially if she was suspicious of him. Worst of all, what if he wasn't there to kill her, but to take her back to that place where she had been with her brother?
"Josephine," she heard herself say, not entirely sure where it came from. Her mouth just started moving before she could make up her mind, but she went with it, offering him a smile, if only fleeting. "My name is Josephine. And it's.,... nice to meet you."
She held her towel and her still untouched water bottle close as she walked next to him- not in front of or behind, but next to him down to the snack center. "You come here often," she observed out loud.
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Nov 13, 2011 1:48:51 GMT -5
Doug got the feeling that this wasn't something she did very often. She was a little awkward, unsure, and yet trying not to seem like she was. He wasn't even going out of his way to flirt with her, he was just being friendly, but he could tell she was suspicious. It didn't bother him, though. He knew how guys could be, and she'd probably had more than her fair share of unwanted attention from jerks. He would just keep things light and try to let her know that he wasn't like those guys.
"Josephine," he repeated with a smile. "It suits you. Do you go by Jo or Joey?"
His smile widened as she mentioned noticing that he came here often. So she had noticed him... he had wondered if she had. "Yeah, I work out a lot. I'm training for the next Olympics... I hope to make it on the track and field team. What about you? Are you training for anything in particular? I've seen you here a lot, too."
At the counter, Doug grabbed a protein bar and then ordered a carrot juice with a hint of ginger, then turned back to her for her order.
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Nov 13, 2011 21:03:20 GMT -5
"Just Josephine," the girl replied. She did, actually, go by Joey, and Jo to her brother, but him alone. Except for Walter... she remembered him using Jo, sometimes, and she remembered hating it.
It wasn't like she picked up a lot of friends who got to know her enough to use a nickname with her. Came with the territory, and she was fine with that. Still, she could tell that this guy, Doug, was being genuinely nice, and although she hated herself for it, she felt bad that she was making it so difficult on him. Sighing softly, nearly inaudibly, she added, "But you can call me Joey, if you want to."
She waited a moment to make sure that what he picked up was paid for before she grabbed her own items- a new water bottle, and a protein bar that she would stash away for later.
"The Olympics. Wow." That was definitely not the answer she was expecting, and it threw her off because she considered herself pretty good at reading people. "That's an.... admirable goal. Good luck." At the return question, she shook her head. "No... I just run. It relieves stress for me." He had no idea how much she was forcing herself to talk. He was giving her yes or no questions, and she so badly wanted to answer them with one word.
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Nov 14, 2011 1:45:45 GMT -5
Doug hesitated slightly. He could tell that she wasn't entirely comfortable with using a nickname. She was keeping him at a distance, yet she was still talking to him. She could have told him to bugger off, but she hadn't.
"We can stick with Josephine, if you're more comfortable with that," he said. He felt that the privilege of calling her Joey was something he had to earn... and he hadn't yet. If some guy had hurt her (which was what he assumed), then he didn't want to be pushy with her. He just wanted to talk to her, and maybe get her to smile.
He led her over to a table and sat down. He didn't think she would be the type who would like it if he pulled the chair out for her, but in this case, it wasn't an issue. The seats were big heavy benches that were cemented to the floor.
"Thanks. I don't know if I'll make it... but I've always wanted to try for it. If I don't make it. I can always try again." he shrugged casually, as though it wasn't a big deal. "So tell me, Josephine, what do you do for a living?"
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Nov 14, 2011 11:41:01 GMT -5
She nodded, glancing at him and really feeling her height... or lack thereof. "I like Josephine." At least it wasn't too much of a mouthful. Still, it wasn't as easy as Doug.
"Have you been in the Olympics before?" She almost asked if he played any magical sports, but stopped herself short. What if he wasn't a wizard? "I just don't think I've ever met anyone who was training for That before." Joey was intrigued, but she wouldn't admit it.
Without even pausing, she answered his question. "I'm a private investigator of sorts." Unless you counted lies of omission, this statement was entirely true, and carefully considered. "Do you have a day job?" She asked before he could ask her anything about her work.
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Nov 24, 2011 0:26:05 GMT -5
"No, I didn't make on the team last time," Doug said. "I don't know if I will this time, either, but maybe I'll be able to be an alternate. I figure, it's worth trying for anyway... it gives me something to strive for besides just keeping fit."
He didn't think anything of her response, and it certainly wouldn't have occurred to him that she might not be telling the whole truth. Private investigator sounded exciting enough, and it explained why she was so guarded.
"That's cool. Actually, I work here. I'm a personal trainer. After I help other people with their workout routines, I start my own."
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Nov 26, 2011 1:36:22 GMT -5
"I see now," Joey replied, unable to mask the realization, and even partial relief in her voice at those words. He worked here. So he (probably) wasn't stalking her. That was good news. She was still ever cautious, of course, but it explained why she'd seen him so often. She really needed to stop with these habits she kept unintentionally forming.
"Is there a reason you keep active, then?" she asked, making it sound like a short way of asking what made him want to work as a personal training.... and see if there was a deeper explaination he might let slip through. But hey, he had to hand her credit- she was keeping the conversation going.
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Jan 11, 2012 0:38:38 GMT -5
Doug noticed the tone of relief in her voice, and he frowned ever so slightly. The last thing he would ever want to do was make her uncomfortable, and he hoped he hadn't been too forward.
Maybe he should have been concerned about her overly suspicious nature, but the truth was, he didn't actually find her attitude that unusual. Being the athletic type, he tended to spend much of his time around other athletic types. He had muggle friends he met with to play basketball or football with. In his Olympic training, he met with other people training for the Olympics and other events. Some of them were women, and many of the female athletes tended to be rather... prickly. They were fiercely independent, overly defensive, and usually tougher than the guys. Doug had learned that the best way to deal with these women was to be just as friendly and casual as he was with the guys, but to make sure they knew he respected them. Most of all, though, they liked someone who could make them smile and laugh once in a while. Doug was good at that.
He shrugged as he took a sip from his juice. "No reason, I guess. I just kind of... like it. Never been the kind of guy to sit around on my arse, stuffing my face with crisps. I had a lot of energy when I was a kid, so I channeled it into sports and exercise."
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Jan 17, 2012 2:30:03 GMT -5
Joey nodded. His answers were quick and genuine enough. Anyway, if he *was* lying, and he had any tells, Joey couldn't catch them. She was pretty good at catching things like that, too, so she relaxed, just a tiny bit more, across from him.
"Of course. I suppose I was the same." In some ways, that was. She wasn't necessarily and energetic child, but she had always had to fight. She had to fight in her family life, or literally risk being beaten or killed. She didn't remember much of it, but she had to fight in training. She was often abused by the other kids and even some of the adults (moreso than they all were) because she was so little. Mostly, she'd had to fight constantly to keep from being thrown by the wayside. She had to fight to stay relevant... and not much had changed, really.
Conversation lulled, and she gave him an unsure smile as she took a sip of her drink, stalling in the silence.
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Feb 13, 2012 16:02:14 GMT -5
It didn't escape Doug's notice that she wasn't incredibly comfortable talking with him. It wasn't that she was shy... she was guarded. He wondered to himself what could have happened in her life to make her that way. Doug's life had been a little too easy, and although he knew not everyone had it so easy, he could be a bit naive at times. He was sure he could get through to her and get her to smile again. Something told him she had a beautiful smile.
"So are you training for anything in particular?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Feb 18, 2012 14:58:01 GMT -5
Joey took another sip of water and shook her head. "Not really. Just to be fit." She was aware that this made her sound kind of.... Weird. Joey never had been the kid of girl that would worry about these things, but she recognized that he was trying to keep things going, and as long as the questions didn't get too personal, there was no harm in answering them.
"My job requires a certain amount of athleticism." And, because she just knew he would ask what her job was, she went ahead and answered that for him, too. In the vaguest sense of te words that she could. "I work in ah.... Justice. Law enforcement, in a manner of speaking." Surely he could buy that- he could already see that she was small in stature, so it would make sense that she overcompensated by being very fit. It was hard being both a girl and very small in her field, an she imagined it was the same in law enforcement.
Then, before she could stop herself, she asked, "Are you any good at tennis?"
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Mar 1, 2012 2:14:03 GMT -5
That made a lot of sense to Doug, and he nodded immediately. "I can picture that," he said. "II knew it had to be something like that. You have that kind of tough air about you... someone not to be messed with. It makes sense that you'd want to stay in shape, to catch the bad guys."
Her next question seemed somewhat out of the blue, but he didn't mind it. In fact, it was encouraging to him... it meant that she wanted to keep talking to him.
"Yeah, I've been known to play a little tennis now and then. Are you challenging me to a game?"
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Post by Josephine Elwel on Mar 1, 2012 12:56:34 GMT -5
Joey nodded a little absently, though she smiled a little when he told her she seemed tough- he had no idea. It was a little smile, subtle and close lipped, but it was a crack in her armor.
She sat up a little straighter as he moved with the change in direction of the conversation, and that tiny smile morphed into something of a smirk. "Yeah," she said, nodding. "Yes I am. Are you up for it?" It would certainly be less awkward than sitting here, trying to keep conversation going, which she was never really good at anyway.
And Joey always felt more comfortable when she was moving and doing things. "I might even let you win."
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Post by Doug Whitlow on Mar 6, 2012 1:20:24 GMT -5
Doug laughed heartily. He liked it when she smiled, and he liked the playful way she was talking to him. This was turning out better than he'd dared to hope.
"Oh, let me win," he said. "How generous of you... I'd have guessed you'd be the competitive type."
So was he, come to think of it. And although tennis wasn't exactly his game, that didn't mean he wasn't good at it. He was pretty sure he could give her a run for her money, at least.
"You're on," he said. "I'll have to rent a racket, though... I didn't bring one."
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