//CLOSED Working out the old sores.

Arriving in the gym, he would kick open the spring door that lead inside to the rather highly furnished facilities. "Wow... someone had a pretty penny to spend here. I wonder if they should had put that kind of money elsewhere..." Remembering some time before where he fought a giant... rat... thing, he wondered if he should have reported the incident to the people in charge of this mess trap. Although he had no idea where to look, as he only got "memos" delivered to him late at night, early in the morning... just basically when he was away or sleep. That person seemed to always know when to give him the letters without meeting said person in the face. Bastard... if he finds out who has been leaving him letters of instructions, he will goto a copy machine and staple 50 thousand print outs of his hairy asshole to their doorway to make a point. "Come talk to me in person, ya bastards!"

Course he was yelling into an empty room with no one in it, or at least from what he could initially see and hear from the doorway.

Still he had work to do. After a nights rest, he realized that most of his injuries were not terrible at all. Just alot of bruises and sprains. He had a few cuts and scrapes, but all of them were superficial; most of the blood on his clothes was of that disgusting looking creature he found roaming the sewers of this place. Oh well, when he found the bastard running the place he was going to demand a reward for dispatching that creature. And a better place to live than that tiny ass shithole of a dorm. Being office manager, he should at least be accommodated a tinsy bit better. He wasn't asking to have hookers and caviar delivered to his room every night on plates of gold.

Starting off easy, he went to the sparring mat and did a few stretches. Starting with his legs and arms, he stretched all those important muscles that everyone seemed to forget and miss. Then a few splits and jumping jacks to get the blood flowing. When he got to the torso rotations, he gritted his teeth lightly from the pain. Wearing gym shorts and a tank top hid the injuries in his ribs, but it didn't stop it from hurting soo damn much. Maybe he should of taken some IB-profin or some grade A morphine before he decided today was the day to work out. Chuckling lightly to himself, he merely sighed and said. "Pfft... play through the pain." Maybe Riley was just a closet Masochist?

Jumping on the treadmill, he started a light trot at normal jogging speed. He would change the speed to something to a light sprint after a few minutes, once his mind caught up with his body.

After leaving his clean pristine dorm, Logan thinks that a workout is in order and nothing better than to go to the gym to simply workout his tension. Being a full-blooded lycan that he is, he cannot help but wonder about this. Still, he haven’t other lycans, so its safe to assume that for now. His hands reach down inside his pants pocket while moving inside the castle to find a gym or some place to work his extremities. Even though he’s at college, he cannot help but to prepare for anything. Being raised in the facility to know how to wield guns, and close range combat, Logan trains from sunrise to sunset because of it. Anyway, after several twists and turns, his teal orbs look over at the door already opened. A hand rise up to place on top of his head, curious enough to move closer and see what is inside. He heard a voice from within, something with a score to settle? He made a light shrug from his shoulders as Logan moves over to the doorway, stepping right through the doorway to see an actual gym inside the castle. His lips part slightly in awe. To think that they actually have a gym inside here, of all places; wonders what strange places he can find inside here.

Oh well, workout is in order and there is not time to go exploring. He closes both of his eyes and exhales softly before opening them to gaze on the brown haired individual running on the treadmill, who he met at the registration office. He briefly remembers him calling Logan as ‘the punk who’s too cool for this place’. Thinking back, that slowly infuriates him but lets that one slides as a little friendly gesture.

Come-on laddie, now your chance..

An unknown voice stirs up from within the back of his mind as Logan slowly shakes it off. He’d leave the young lad to the treadmill while Logan goes to the sparring mat, while he takes off his black leather jacket to show his orange shirt with that same shackle on his wrist. If anyone asks about this, he’d just write it as a little fashion accessory. He has lack sweat pants that goes down to his ankles that fits snugly around his waist to hold up his pants with white tennis shoes on both of his feet.

Once he has reached to the sparring mat, he’d drop the jacket to the mat beside him. Starting off easy, he will do some push-ups. He kneels on the mat, and then leans forwards to place his hands on the mat. His finger is facing forward as his abdominal muscles and raises his body until only his hands and toes are in contact with the mat. His back is straight and his hips are above his knees. He thrust upwards with both hands as his elbows curls and release with each passing stroke. He mentally counts each push-up before moving one arm behind his back, beginning to push with only his arm. After his twentieth push-up, he rolls on his back and starts to do some sit-ups. Both hands behind his head, he brings himself up until his elbows can touch his knees. Fall back to the ground, touching his entire back to the ground and laying flat. He repeats once more, mentally counting each sit-up before moving a bit faster while still keeping the correct form. Again, after his twentieth sit-up, he stops as he forms little sweat from his forehead. He gets up and turns his gaze over at the brown haired individual before looking away to do some upper body stretches.

Upon hearing the new steps into the room, he decided to play the unsociable card. Reaching into his pocket, he would pull out a set of head phones and place them into his ears, clicking on an MP3 player that was resting in his pocket. Switching the songs to his more upbeat dance mix, the first shuffle song was a remix of Boom Boom Pow. With the song now flowing into his mind, he was able to block out the external environment and focus on his more inner thoughts. With the strength and pull on his body, he was able to relive the moments where he was in the most stress. With the pain in his ribs, the images of what happened flashed back into his mind. The slow pivot. He was then wrenched away from Merisa and slammed repeatedly into the wall. If it wasn't for his trump card... he would hate to bear the thought. His left hand would clench absentmindedly at the thought, so close to death... so little chance of escape. Nevertheless, it was when he was pinned against the wall when he showed his true colors. The ruthlessness of a caged beast. A feral animal waiting to strike. It was a wonder his foot worked that morning. A little swelled, but he was easy on it. It made him run with a limp on the tread mill though.

Then there was the issue with his past. The screams were at least a distance memory, but he was still left with no memory of their faces or their voices. Only their screams. Their blood curling screams. It haunted his dreams last night. It reminded him of what happened. The pain in his memory did show, as his hands would grip the handlebars on the treadmill. He would tread harder on the mill, pushing faster on the dial to help run that memory out of his mind. It was not his anymore. That was apart of a different person with a different past. He was the new Riley. 2.0. Those kinds of memories would just pull him down.

Checking the time passed on the track, he slowly realized he had been running for about 25 minutes since he started. Jesus, time flies when you are... well, ya know. Slowly he turned it down to a brisk walk so that his body could cool down. His tank top was already soaked with his sweat and his breathing was heavy. Damn, how long has it been since he forced his body this hard? Well with the lack of sleep, he could surmise that would be an issue. The pain in his right foot started to throb and his chest started to hurt from the fast deep inhale-exhale exercise. Gotta take it easy... otherwise I'll be useless. He kicked himself once more mentally. Damn... freaking...

After a few more minutes, he slowed the dial down to a steady walk and then off. With a 30 some odd cardio work out, his heart was pumping and ready for more... but he didn't want to push many of the sore muscles on his body. Still the 'play through the pain' motto rang in his mind. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he turned to see the person who entered earlier was the guy he met earlier. He was doing stretches nearby, and he had the strange feeling that the man was watching him earlier. Smirking, he walked over to the stretch area to do some cool down exercise... making sure to wave and say "Hey its that guy!" before he reached the end of mat.

"Its Logan, right?" Since he worked out alot of his anger, he was a bit cool headed so he didn't come off too assholely. "I was wondering if you could spot me on the benches for a few. Been a while since I have lifted anything over a 100 pounds. " Regardless if he was invited to the private space of Logan or not, he was already stretching nearby... cooling the muscles off of his chest. "Pretty awesome place. Such a large place for so few students, ya know?" Leaning back, he winced lightly as he did the spinal stretches before saying. "Ya know... I wish they put it towards the more dangerous parts of this place, like the extermination squad for the sewers..." Chuckling, he would leave it at that. Nevertheless, he would continue to do cool down stretches until Logan wanted to spot him on the benches. He needed someone to talk to in order to keep his mind out of his thoughts for a while. He hated dwelling.

Logan begins with the basic arm stretch. He starts with his right arm straight up in the air, bending his elbow towards his backside. His palm is placed face-down on his back between his shoulder blades. His left palm is putting moderate pressure on his right elbow pushing it back towards his forehead in one continuous motion. He holds this position for a few seconds, and then he repeats with his other arm. Next, he does his arm and shoulder stretch by dropping his shoulder and pulling his arm across his chest. With his opposite arm, he gently pulls his arm across his chest and holding it for 15 seconds. He does the same stretch for the other arm for 15 seconds before stopping to move his arms a bit more freely now. His arms relax on his sides as Logan slowly rotates his shoulders up and down. Those shoulders of his made small circles and moving up and down in a slow distinct motion. After all his stretches are done with, he’d wipe what little sweat that he has on his forehead and brows. He closes those teal orbs to breath in, through his lung, and exhaling out softly. Slowly opening his teal orbs to gaze at the wall beside him.

His form turns straight to the wall as his feet is shoulder-width apart with his front foot open and pointed towards the wall and his back foot more perpendicular for actual support. His arms are held up high on his own with his elbows in tight to his body. Once that is done, he stands on the balls of his feet while taking a couple steps back for distance. His hand is moving up high with his elbow close to his body, while pushing off his back foot. Taking a step forward, he extend his arm straight out as his fist rotates over while reaching its full extension. He just made a light jab as Logan does a couple more of light jabs as his body starts to move from side to side slightly as if to dodge the incoming jabs and straights. A couple jabs here and there, doing a little shadowboxing to ease some tension from his own mind, his own little world.

Just as his another jab is about to be thrown, he heard a familiar voice, ‘Hey its that guy!’ before moving those arms down to his relaxed state. He turns his attention to the brown haired individual as a light sigh of relief expels from those lips of his. Well? What are you waiting for, laddie? The unknown voice spoke to only Logan before drowning it out. He nods his head twice at the mention of his own name before listening to his request of spotting him on the benches for a few. A simple request. Nothing special or otherwise. He closes those eyes of his as he just shrugs his shoulder as in ‘Sure, why not.’ He turns himself around and goes to his jacket as Logan bends his knees into a couching position to fish inside his jacket. He grabs his notepad with pen inside his jacket for communication. He stands himself up as Logan writes down a message in response to Riley’s comment about this place and such.

~Yeah, I guess this is a nice place to attend college with only a few students.~

He shows Riley the message before a brow is raised about extermination squad for the sewers. He writes down another message, ~if you say so,~ and leaves it at that before he turns his attention to the benches. He writes down another message for the first question, ~Let's go so I can spot you.~ Logan basically shows Riley the message that he wrote before closing the notepad and placing it inside his pants pocket. Logan basically waits as he goes over to the benches.

Tilting his head rather curiously to the notes the man was writing, he gave Logan a quizzical look as he read the notes quietly. "Alright then." He was in a humoring mood at the moment, so it didn't bother him that Logan was writing notes for whatever reason. He just thought it looked cool, or something along those lines, as he was talking to him on the first day some time ago. Oh well, none of his business. Probably take up the entire book on why or how he had to write out his words instead of his phrases. "Well follow me Logan, lets see how bad my pecs have gotten." He had no doubt in his arms had maintained their 'structural integrity' over the past few months without a decent workout routine. Still he needed to get back into the scheme of things and meet a few peeps while he was at it. The best way to stay on a work out routine was to meet someone with similar interests. Although by the mans rather rigorous stretch routine, Logan seemed father along than Riley at the present time.

"I guess I will start with 125 pounds, 25 reps..."

Talking loudly to himself, he started to adjust the dumbbell which was locked onto the bench guard rail nearby. Adding a 50 on each side, 10s, then 2.5s, he was already good to go. " I know its a light weight start, but like I said its been a while for me. Besides, its not about how much you can lift up, its how many reps you can do on the certain weight. Of course, I am pretty sure you knew that. " Confident that Logan could probably hold that weight for himself, he would slip himself on the workout bench and take a hold of the dumbbell with both hands, even spread across the bar with a firm grip on each end.

Easily lifting the the dumbbell off of the rack, he started to count the reps aloud. "1...2...3...4..." At first, he was doing them pretty quickly and easily, but then his body started to slow due to the strain catching up to his arms. Going silent for a minute around 10, he kept the count going in his head as he asked the man spotting him. "I know its hard to have a conversation if you have to have a scratch pad, so I guess I can just mostly talk and you listen. However, for a conversation to work ya gotta give feedback. So where are you from." He didn't need the spot for the easy weights he was pulling, so the man could take his time with writing out the notes. "I'm fine for this weight, its when I crank it up to about 175 is when I will prob need your help." Pushing his breath out with each stroll, mentally he was upto about 20 at this point.

Logan slowly tilts his head to the side as a somewhat blank stare is made on those features. Then, a light sigh has been made, thinking that its best not to tell about his inability to speak. Well, only temporary because of the drug long time ago. No one knows when he’ll get his voice. So for now, he’ll try the best of his ability to compensate on his inability to talk. His hands reach down inside his pants pockets as Logan follows Riley to the benches. Though, this is the first time being a spotter, but he done some research on bench spotting. A hand moves up to the top of his head, lightly scratches his head some, contemplate on being a bench spotter. Still, he’ll try his best as a bench spotter.

The chain rattles lightly against the shackle on his wrist. Once he has reached to the benches, he watches Riley put the weighs on each side of the bars. Listening to what Riley’s comment, ‘I know its a light weight start, but like I said its been a while for me. Besides, its not about how much you can lift up, its how many reps you can do on the certain weight. Of course, I am pretty sure you knew that.’ He made a light nod, while taking a notepad with pen and flips to the blank page. He writes down a message, ~yeah. It’s the same routine over and over where I came from.~ Logan shows him the message that he wrote in response to that, and turns his attention to the weights. Sure, he’s about to hold the weight for himself. Heck! He can hold it with one hand. However, he doesn’t want to show him his lycan strength, well his half-strength. That’ll probably make him think that he took steroids or something, so he’ll just play it out and see what happens. His hands is away from the bars, simply watching Riley doing his reps.

There are two important parts on being a bench spotter, giving the lifter feedback, and the other is to make sure not to injure the lifter. His hands touch his notepad, writing down a feedback, ~Come on! You can do it! Push!~ Logan shows him the feedback that he has wrote to Riley, while watching to see if there any with irregularities, mentally counting his reps. Besides, Riley doesn’t need Logan’s help because of these lightweights, so he’s basically a watcher. Logan starts to write down a message about his hometown.

~I raised in streets of Dublin, laddie... Then, I traveled to the monastery in Montague. I’ve been through places basically in my youth.~

His hands suddenly stops writing, remembering a part of his past, but for some reason… A part of him doesn’t want to remember. Quickly, shakes his head to return to reality as Logan basically shows him the message. Then, Logan writes down a question for Riley. ~Where are you from and is that a bionic arm?~ Showing him the message, while a finger pointed to his arm. He doesn’t want to be discreet, just making a conversation with someone that he knew at registration.

For someone who could not speak, he sure was very talkative- wait, scratch that - textitive.... bleh, sounded horrible. Regardless, the silent Logan was a very sociable creature who wanted to speak his mind whenever he could. Considering the barrier of the speech thing, he probably had a lot to say but not enough time to 'write it up'. Given the fact that Riley was rather busy pushing up the weights, he had no other distracts other than watching the man write letters to him. It didn't bother him, he just found it weird that he was having a rather eventful conversation with a 'pretend mute'. Still it wasn't annoying, which is a good thing. IF he got annoyed, then he would start lashing out with his rather nasty sarcastic remarks. He doesn't mean it when he does it, its just he says the first thing that rolls off of his tongue.

Nodding to Logans comments on where he lived and about the benching, he did like the fact knowing there was a small muscle head like himself. He wasn't like the people who wanted to have massive sheer bulk strength with their veiny tits pulsating everywhere they went. He just respected the fact that a clean body is a toned and healthy one. Since he couldn't eat right nowadays, thanks of McDonalds, then he had to double his efforts towards working out every single muscle in his body. With his math, he planned to burn between 300-500 calories in this current work out time. That burn time would roll over for the rest of the day, increasing his metabolism and burn rate. Although he had no fear of being fat, he liked to have a high metabolism and eat everything he could get his hands on. "Lets see if I can hit the 500 calorie mark today..." He groaned after 20 total reps, only 5 more to go.


~I raised in streets of Dublin, laddie... Then, I traveled to the monastery in Montague. I’ve been through places basically in my youth.~

"Ahh Dublin, never been there." A hint of southern twang bled in.

Riley didn't do a terrible amount of traveling outside the states, well... outside the U.S. anyways. Living in various parts of the U.S., he was able to learn to adapt to various cultures and linguistics. This explained the reasoning to why he could switch between a southern accent to a much more common northern one. He could not pull of a new york or Maine accent though without sounding like a fool, it was just the way they acted and talked that he couldn't understand how it worked.

"25!"

With a bead of sweat on his forehead, he tossed the dumbbell onto the rack. Picking up the hand towel up to his face, he mopped the sweat from his forehead. He knew that Logan wanted to know about his hand, but it was hard to explain. It was rather difficult to tell people that an unknown creature ripped it off his arm, so he always gave them the more general excuse... something he always had for a long time. "Yeah its biotic...Saw Mill accident, before you ask. Just ... being an idiot and no way to get to safety. Didn't keep the arm on ice, was a bit too young to know the importance of that." With a slight nod, he would step up and grab a few more weights, adding 10 more pounds to each side and swapping the 2.5s with 5s. "Lets hit up the 150..."

Setting himself back under the weights, he could feel his arms tense as he took hold of the next set. "I am surprised that you can see the marks, the arm is covered pretty easily with some kind of... realistic skin mesh. Its even warm to the touch." Although he could make his arm as realistic as possible, the skin held a slightly darker tone and the cutoff was pretty visible. But still people really didn't question unless he told them, usually people didn't understand what it was.

Once again, he would start doing the count aloud. "15 reps... 1...2... 3... 4.." His arms were already a bit tired, but he kept pushing on. This was the real workout that really burned the calories. Burning them when he was hot, sweaty, and tired is when the body pulls more on the stored fats in the body. "To your question about where I am from, I have been all over the U.S. Ohio, Nevada, California... TN. I really don't have a real place to call where I am from." Well he was born in TN, but even then that memory doesn't exist to Riley. Those memories were BEFORE the accident and therefore not apart of his new life.

Changing the subject, he asked. "Anyways, what gave you the idea to join this place? Dublin is rather close, but of course.. bit far for me coming from across the sea." Chuckling lightly, he said aloud. "7....8..."

Being the one who writes almost consecutively has always been for Logan. Taking notes of the surroundings, while giving feedback or basically ‘talking’ with his notepad. His notepad is the only tool that he has for communication because he knows little sign language. That and they said that the side effects are only temporary, so theirs is no need to learn sign language, is there? He closes his orbs, taking a deep breath and exhaling a light sigh. Talking, or rather ‘speaking through his notepad’ to Riley feels, well, pretty well. Its nice to have a sociable conversation with him. Even though he couldn’t let go of the comment that Riley made back at the registration office. What was that? Oh yeah, ‘the one who is too cool for this room.’, but that’s all water under the bridge now. His hands start to scribble down a word to communicate, ~Right!~ He turns the notepad over to show him that said word with a confirm nod, but hearing that light groan from Riley meaning that something is wrong with him. However, he just leaves it at that until he starts to get worse. A light nods has been made to confirm the biotic arm, saying that he lost it on the Saw Mill accident. He turns the notepad over to write another note as the hand, which holding the pen, scribbles down a note about Dublin.

~A nice place to go to. Though, a bit eccentric, but a good relaxing place to say at least.~

He turns over the notepad to Riley the message once more, nothing special to write at least. Logan has the Scottish accent, but lacks the meaning of speaking to do so. He watches as Riley hit the 25th rep from the dumbbell, as he ties to help him putting the dumbbell back in the rack. He makes a light nod about hitting up the weight to 150. A bit drastic, but Logan thinks that Riley can handle it. Still, upon closer inspection on Riley’s arm does a slightly darker tone, but its looks almost realistic. He took note of where Riley is from and in response, he writes a note on his notepad. ~Never been outside of the country to visit these so-called states. Yet, I don’t have a place to call home.~ He turns over the notepad to show him the note, watching him doing the reps. However, the next question that Riley ask was a bit complicated at most. He slides his hands to the shackle against his left wrist, sliding around some to cover the inscription ‘Zeta-Delta 77’ or so to say. The broken chain rattles a little bit once he does this. His teal orbs looks away from him. Not really want to tell him the real reason of coming here, because it was a bit complicated on his part. So, he basically writes down a note explaining the situation.

~You see. The situation is a bit complicated and I really don't want to go into detail I went to the monastery in Montague to see the place, but I received a letter from someone anonymous. Well, an acceptance letter to say at least to this place. When I learned that they will pay the tuition here, might as well go and give it a shot. Besides, I need to learn and educate further anyway.~

A really long note to say at least. So, he turns over the notepad to show him the note that he has written. Once that was done, he place the notepad back inside his pants pocket along with the pen while he watches Riley doing his reps.

"13...14...15!" He practically let the dumbbell fall back onto the holster as his arms screamed for mercy. As soon as the bar hit the rack, he let his arms collapse onto his chest, aching horribly from the force he underwent during his work out. Still, it was good to feel the usual pains in his elbows and wrists, it showed a sign that he was still alive and well into this world. Even though everything ached, he was still ready to hit the weights a bit more. Nevertheless, he needed to let his muscles cool down before he pushed them further. Slowly sitting up on the bench, he began to rotate the joints along both of his arms. Curling them in and twisting them around helped loosen them up. The worst thing that could happen is that they lock up. He preferred not to have that happen so early into the game. He still wanted to do a few more sets before switching over to the leg weights before calling it a day. Still, the time with Logan will be shortening as his need for a spotter was dwindling.

As his muscles cooled down, he wiped a few beads of sweat off his forehead before turning to Logan to answer his previous statements.

"Seems like the lot of us has issues outside the box. Even though you aren't telling me anything, I can tell you have a troubled past. From what I have seen thus far, no one here appears to be 'normal' in any sense of the word. I guess college is supposed to be an experience all on its own, but I don't remember fighting giant rat monsters and nearly getting my head cutoff by a twin bladed freak was apart of the 'regular college routine'" Instantly realizing that Logan probably had no idea what he was talking about, he backed up a bit saying. "Sorry, long story short don't go tracking in the dungeons alone anytime soon and do not fuck with a man named Sarthas. Guy packs his metal like he does his underwear." What made Riley different than a bunch of block heads was he knew when to be cautious and when to keep his mouth shut. Still he always slipped up a few times, due to his anger issues, but he knew better in any sense of the words. Regardless, Riley was never a man to keep his head low in a situation.

"Anyways, if we manage to get free time that allows us to go outside these walls, I guess we can rent a car and tour Dublin sometime. Shouldn't be more than a couple hundred miles through back country, about a days travel at most. "

Once again, he slipped himself under the bars. Tensing his arms lightly, he shook his head and bared his teeth. "15 reps, lets do it." He could already feel the strain when he picked up the dumbbell and brought it back up. "One!" A little spit came out with that, but he shook it off. "Sorry, spicket set loose. By the way... fancy bracelets eh?" Nudging his head towards the rather huge cuffs, he turned his head back towards the front of the room. And with that he began the reps in silence, allowing Logan to scribble away in his notepad.

A man with few words or no words at all as one would say. Logan watched as Riley made his fifteenth rep, while trying to help him putting the dumbbell back into the rack, if needed. He closes his orbs of teal to take a deep breath, exhaling softly. He opened those orbs of his, pulling his notepad with pen from the pants pocket. He scribbles down a feedback for that workout, ~Keep up the good work!!~ Turning over the notepad to show Riley the feedback. Logan is doing a good job as a spotter, since all he is doing is giving feedback and putting the dumbbell back on the rack. Still, his time as a spotter is going short. Listening to Riley about the whole college experience and fighting giant rat monster. At first, he made a blank stare as Logan has no idea what is he talking about. He lightly shakes his head some, returning back to his normal state. Basically, Riley fought a giant rat monster in the dungeon and he almost got beheaded by a freak with twin blades.

It was a good thing that he kept his secret as a lycanthrope for so long while being here. He keeps a calm mind, while satisfying his hunger for meat is a daunting task for a male lycan such as him. A light nod has been made as Logan, flipping the notepad into a clean page and writes down a message in response to this.

~I’ll….keep that in mind. Don’t go to dungeons unless you have someone with you, and stay away from this Sarthas person.~

He turns over the notepad over to show him the message that he wrote. He writes down another message underneath the first one, ~Yeah, I’d like that. Going back to Dublin to see the old haunts and whatnot; once there, I’ll you a good time at Dublin.~ He watch Riley go under the bars once more as a light nod is made for going to 15 reps at the same weight. He saw the little spicket coming out, thinking that Riley is about at his limits. His hand covers the so-called bracelet against his wrist, well trying to cover. Logan just writes down a note about his shackles with his pen and notepad.

~Yeah. Let’s just say it a fashion accessory that was with me during childhood. Once famous in Dublin some time ago, but died out. However, I kept these as a reminder ever since.~

He turns over the notepad to show him the note, but left out that his ‘bracelets’ cannot be removed or come off. Basically, those bracelets tell a little history about when he was at the facility. However, a part of him doesn’t want to speak of such history as it only brings pain to his own psyche. Logan writes a note on the notepad once more. ~Come on! Put some oomph into it!~ Basically giving him feedback for his reps as Logan just shows him the notepad, while looking at the front of the gym as well.

Language barriers or not, if a man needs to speak his mind then he will find a way to do so. Logan was no exception. The continuous draw to poke at the man in order to figure out why he did not began to speak faded away with the reps within his voice. "five!" maybe Riley was becoming to like the man that was spotting him from underneath. Or maybe Riley was just so focused on the weights that he had no time to think about anything else. Regardless, Riley was sucked into his own world of woes and worries within the next set of reps, the pain setting in as his mind was drawing blanks. Instead of fighting the pain from underneath, he let it become apart of him. It was much easier to accept the pain than it was to ignore and fight it, even if it was dangerous to do so.

But even with pain brought longevity, treating the pain as it was apart of himself instead of an external factor that harassed his well being. It was a mind over matter mentality that managed many soldiers to keep pushing on, even with bullet wounds in their gut. Even if they knew they already bought the farm, it didn't stop them for pushing that one last line. That one last step. That one last pull. Nothing more could keep a man alive with the thought of pressing on in order to reach their goal.

"Fifteen!"

He already completed his last rep, tossing the dumbbell onto the rack. He hoped that Logan was watching, otherwise, the dumbbell would fall backwards off the rack.. stubbing or crushing the man's toe if he wasn't careful. "Gaahhh!!!! I am freaking done with the damn weights." His sides started to hurt, due to the strenuous breathing, but other than that he was glad to stop pushing so much damn weight over his arms. "I will hit the 175s after my arms stop going numb." Chuckling, he would slowly sit up, rubbing his face with his hands in order to release those endorphins once more. "Need a spot?"

Logan continues to watch Riley doing his rep. Still, Logan has forgotten to mention him the reason of his inability to speak. Though, telling him the ‘real’ reason, will put this man under suspicion. So, he has to make a small fib and move on as if it was nothing else to mention. Looking at Riley focused at lifting weights, make Logan realized that he hasn’t had his turn lifting. Oh well. He’ll get his turn, eventually. Though, he is actually surprised to see Riley push farther as any man could. Even though he was in pain, he kept moving and focuses on going through. That’s determination for him. Getting on his fifteenth rep, he watches the barbell getting tossed onto the rack. He also saw the barbell fall backwards off the rack, and about to come into contact into his foot. If that much weighs comes down to it, pain will follow; so, his hands quickly grab onto the barbell before it lands onto his foot.

A light sigh of relief escapes from those lips of his, as a disaster has been averted, well a minor disaster actually.. Logan begins to lift up the barbell with those arms of his. So much weight on this barbell, but it is relatively easier to lift because of his lycan blood. Anyway, he puts the barbell back into the rack, turning his attention to Riley. He reaches down for his notepad w/pen inside his pants pocket. He flips the notepad to a fresh page and writes down a message, ~That great, but next time, don’t toss the barbell.~ Logan shows him the message before watching him sitting up from under the racks. Logan looks at the barbell, and then he looks at Riley as he writes another message across the notepad. ~Yeah. I need a spotter for this.~ He shows him the note as Logan looks at the weights. 150 lbs. will do for an easy workout, but 200 will be great. So, for now, he’ll do 150 lbs.

Now, he needs of a appropriate place to lift weighs, but for now, he thinks that sitting under the racks would be a good idea for him to test his strength. Once Riley has got up from the sitting racks, Logan will sit down and lay under the racks, flat on his back. His hands go up and grabs onto the barbell, while taking a deep breath and exhaling softly. He begins to lift the barbell from the racks and over chest-level. With a smooth, controlled motion, he lowers the bar until it almost touches his chest. He quickly pushes up the weight upwards to the starting position. Then, he repeats the process while mentally counting his reps. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… His arms wasn’t straining as his lifts were easy and quickly.

When Logan started his reps, he thought the man was an actual beast by the way he did his reps so quickly. Although Riley was able to put away the weights himself, he couldn't keep up with Logan as the man pounded away at the weight lifting. After quickly dismounting, it didn't take longer than a few seconds for Logan to jump behind the sattle and get to work. Just like Logan was with Riley, he just stood there and watched the man whittle away the reps. It was fascinating to say in the least, and he wondered if the man played anything professional in order to keep such a tight physic regiment. "Hey you can slow down there padre, no sense trying to beat me here." He would chuckle lightly, giving the man a silent smirk.

But before he could wait for the man to even finish, his cellphone began to buzz in his jogging pants. "Two seconds, mate." Standing over the dumbbell with one hand, he flicked open the other to hear a few words exchanged on his end. It didn't take long from the words that he was hearing to notice that it was something important. If Logan had heightened hearing, he could hear phrases like "... you forgot your meds..." and "life or death...". The reception faded in and out, and that meant Riley had to get to higher ground in order to hear.

As soon as the man finished the dumbell, he would make sure to stop Logan from doing any more set reps. "I gotta run, bad shit..." Flicking the phone closed, he would motion towards the door. "Rain check..."

Without warning, he would rush out the door and into the day. Limping lightly along the way. "Gotta... make this phone call." You would huff as he flew out the GYM.


EXIT

(Makes a hasty exit!!)