Since meeting at their gym, Zinnia and Jack had made a habit of working-out together. While her girlfriend was more well-rounded in her exercises of choice (vacillating between weight-training some days and cardio on others), Jack was almost strictly weight-training. She could run outside of the gym-- and, in that situation, she didn't run the risk of accidentally damaging equipment that was worth thousands of dollars.

Zinnia was busy today, however, and honestly Jack just needed a workout. the managerial gig at Inferno had her stressed (going from being the muscle of a club to being the boss was a big jump), and it was rare to have a window of time between running the club and working at Xavier's. Jack had earned this workout session.

It was thus that the prawn was ambling out of the womens' locker-room, toting a water-jug in one of her primary hands. The fitted tank-top accentuated her torso, while the structure of her legs was mostly lost in the baggy athletic shorts.

It'd be nice to lift some weights-- not, however, after warming-up and stretching. The prawn found a quiet corner, setting her jug down on the ground, and picking-up a jump-rope.

Thankfully, the club was forward-thinking enough to carry longer jump-ropes in order to accommodate their larger, mutant patrons. Jack extended the rope, ensuring that it was in fact the lengthiest one-- she stepped out from the wall-- and began a steadily-paced rep. Tak-itta-tak-itta-tak-itta-tak-- she'd up the ante later.

Orientations were a good thing all in all, where Gyms were concerned at the very least, because not knowing how to use specialised equipment that was designed to literally tear you down and build you up stronger was a recipe for disaster, especially with the younger patrons of these places who wanted to get right into lifting massive weights, with very little care for how they should actually be going about it.

Still though, April wished they were a little less thorough sometimes, she'd barely been able to get a word in with the person doing the orientation until they were finishing up. At which point she pointed out, she did not need a safety lesson thank you very much, she'd been dealing with gyms since she'd joined the service all that time ago. 

She was clad in a pair of close fitting tracksuit bottoms and a blue tank top, her hair tied back into a neat practiced pony tail. She took a quick glance around the room as she was finishing up her stretching noting quite quickly that a good portion of the patrons had headphones in, ignoring those around them. She'd done her basic training without these things and as a result she generally didn't tend to rely on them for much.

She began jogging on the treadmill at a reasonable pace, before nearing falling off the damn thing because a mutant with some kind of carapace, a giant freaking bug or something just walked past her with a jug of water. It took her a second to regain her composure and carry on jogging, occasionally throwing gentle glances at the... She had no earthly idea what they were, but it was interesting looking, that was for sure. 

Jack was no stranger to odd looks at the gym. The raw physicality of working-out already drew the occasional glances between humanoid individuals. Jack was, for lack of a better word, a spectacle. Massive. Pique physical condition. A seven-and-a-half-foot-tall mother-freaking crustacean. Of course people were going to look at her. Jack kept her lavender gaze forward, and built momentum in her warm-up. She was hitting a good rhythm, now, the rope drumming a staccato on the mats beneath her. Takittatakittatakittatakittatakitta.

She finished the rep and let the rope snap against the front of her legs with finality, pausing to catch her breath. Regardless of what people said, she felt like jumping rope challenged her far more than the cardio necessary for running on a treadmill.

Her lavender gaze cut towards the treadmills as she reached for her water jug, just in-time to see a lady nearly eat-it. She was a blond woman and was... clean. The kind of "clean" that only pretty ladies seemed able to achieve. The pristine demeanor was dispelled by the wild look of "Sh*t, I almost ate my teeth by falling on a treadmill". Luckily, she didn't fall outright, but her gaze was bouncing towards Jack at intervals.

Jack tucked the mouthpiece under her surgical mask, taking a swig of the water, before replacing said surgical mask. She watched the lady, briefly, but not too the extent that it would've been creepy. Mostly just to ascertain if this other woman was staring-- she was, which Jack was no stranger to-- eh, whatever. One minute rest period, over-- time to resume the warm-up.

The prawn picked-up the jump rope once again, and began with the gradual pace.

Quickly stepping off for a few moments to regain her composure, April hit the stop button so that the treadmill wasn't just aimlessly speeding away while she wasn’t keeping up with it. She took another long glance at the carapaced creature before turning back to her stuff and grabbing a pull of water, she didn’t feel dehydrated. She’d definitely not used her power today, so she shouldn’t have been dehydrated at all. Taking another glance back at the creature she cemented she was definitely not seeing things.


There were some very peculiar mutants in the world, that was for sure. She’d never met any with a power that turned them into some kind of… crustacean.


Shrugging it off, April quickly hopped back onto the treadmill, and got back up to speed until she was jogging at a fairly fast pace for a regular gym goer. The person that had been doing her orientation was on the far side of the room and was staring. Most people saw April with blonde hair and a flirty demeanor and assumed that she was a bit of a light weight, but her arms were fairly well toned, and if she wasn’t wearing tracksuit bottoms on her legs the toning and musculature there would be fairly evident.


In the back of her mind she was wandering if the large mutant in the corner felt off if people saw them and made assumptions of them. It probably happened a hell of a lot more to them than it happened to April. And she got a lot of that herself, being a female she found that people just tended to make certain assumptions about her physicality or personality, which she normally quickly turned straight onto her head. 

Jack made a point of keeping her eyes forward. Some people, after being constantly subjected to the attention of strangers, withdrew and shut-down, unaware of the side-long looks. Jack had yet to develop that blissful ignorance, however. Every glance, every glower, burned her subconscious. She could feel the eyes. Sometimes she met them or, during times like these, she kept her eyes forward. At least they weren't whispering. Sometimes people said nasty things about her in hushed whispers. Contrary to the false sense of security they had established, they were entirely audible.

The prawn finished her second rep fluidly. Next would come stretching, and then the real workout would begin. Her focus today would be back and biceps. The prawn returned the rope to its hook on the wall, and went to retrieve her jug of water before meandering towards the stretching mats. These, conveniently, were in the corner directly across from the treadmills. Directly across from the staring blonde.

The prawn lumbered past and, en route, rumbled a simple phrase.

"Not subtle."

She didn't break her stride, perhaps she cast a sidelong glance at the young woman, but she kept moving. She set her jug down beside the mat. She sank into a seating position, back to the wall and legs outstretched.

Her knowing lavender gaze flicked to the blond, for some sort of response or reaction, before returning to the stretches. Jack extended her primary arms and grasped her foot, exhaling as she did. She couldn't stop people from staring, but she could at least teach them to stare furtively.