Earlier that day:

Twyla Ashby sat on one of the plush couches in the living room of the Mansion. She’d been sitting in the exact same position in front of the television since she’d gotten up at 8:30 that morning and her butt was starting to get sore. Turning to her companion she asked: “Henri, when did I get so fat?” The girl was playing with the slight pudge of her mid-section that was due mostly to her position on the couch. The girl felt very yucky and slimy which was probably due to her lazy morning.

--
At the Y closest to the Mansion an hour and a half later:

The room was large and colorful and empty except for two teenagers–one very tall and the other of average height. The shorter one was wearing a green leotard hidden beneath a plain tee shirt and a pair of sweat pants. The shoes on her feet were slightly worn, black jazz sneakers and she had a green duffel slung over her shoulder. Soon she was sprinting away from the tall girl to a pit filled with primary colored blocks. “Ohmygosh! Henri! They have a block pit!” The look on her face was akin to the joy of a young child at Christmas and she looked like she wanted to jump into the colorful abyss.

Instead, she ran back to her friend and grabbed her by the hand. “I think they have a pool too!” She tugged the tall girl through the room and down a hallway. Soon the familiar smell of chlorine filled her nostrils and Twyla knew that she’d been correct in guessing the YMCA had a pool. A few children could be seen at the end of the hall through the glass door. They were dripping wet through their towels and there looked to be some kind of party going on based on the balloons on the tables around them. “Maybe we shouldn’t go in there...” She guessed aloud.

“What’s in that room?” Her hapless victim was taken to another large room, this one taken up by a large, oval track. There were hurdles stacked against one wall but otherwise the room was devoid of any runners. “You like to run, right Henri?” The other girl was finally released from the iron grip as Twyla examined one of the metal thingy-mabobs that was a hurdle.

Yuck. Running. Twyla Ashby was not a big fan of running, not at all...

The two girls had sat for what felt like an eternity on the huge couch. Twyla asked when she had gotten so fat. Sighing, Henri poked at her own middle. “I could ask you the same question.” This conversation led to the idea of a magical journey to the YMCA. This of course, meant getting dressed. Wearing a pair of navy blue shorts under a pair of sweatpants, a pink tank under a jacket, and a pair of Nikes, they set out.
--

Arriving at the large facility, Twyla took over as the tour guide. Well, maybe not a tour guide considering she had never been to the place before either. At the very least, Twyla was the Christopher Columbus. They saw a giant foam pit, a pool, and so much more. After seeing all the other things, they came to a track. Henri’s eyes became large as she looked at the giant oval. Quietly, she said, “It’s beautiful.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the blonde playing with one of the hurdles. She smiled. “I could teach you to jump one unless you rather do something else, but I at least want to tell you a little about it. You don't have to try though, okay?”

The girl dragged a few hurdles into places that she wanted. Smiling at her work, she brushed her hands together. Walking back to Twyla, she began to talk. “Okay, the thing about hurdles is that they don’t really want you to make it over.” Henri took off her sweatpants and pointed at a scar on her knee. “One bit me, but that’s the worst thing I ever got. I had stitched in it. Metal hurdles suck the worst.” Hoping she wasn’t scaring the girl, she smiled at her. “You just need to get your legs up high enough. Watch.”

Henrietta ran back a ways and then turned to look at the hurdle. Crouching down, she put one leg back and got into a starting position. She narrowed her eyes slightly and then took off. Running in great strides was easy for the long-legged girl. Coming to the hurdle, she leaped. Her right leg went over and her left leg followed easily. Landing on the other side, she grinned at Twyla. “See. That easy.”

Juka had some high ambitions for himself, ambitions that involved two primary things. The first, of course, was becoming a huge rock star and on that count he was well on his way. His new band was fast coming together, missing only a dummer and a first show so, of course, he needn't worry about that. His second ambition was a little more complicated, however, and that ambition involved becoming a proper super hero. He had the amazing bubbling power down, of course, and the requisite amount of fabulousness. He even had the drive to do good things and help people, essential to be sure. What he was missing was the non-power related physical fitness. Yes indeed, beautiful and slim though Juka Miami was, he was also somewhat out of shape, at least when compared to the super heroes of myth and legend and thus, alas, he thought he should work out. Blah! That's what he thought of working out. But sacrifises must be made and so he found himself, for the first time in his life, at the Y.

For once Juka was not garbed in one of his usual elaborate dresses, having dug deep into his closet to find the one and only pair of pants that he actually owned. And if his pants were, perhaps, of a slightly less than practical nature, he did at least have the common sense to realize that skirts were not the way to go while working out. Just because his pants were a bright flamboyant purple didn't mean anything, right? Now all that was left to do was figure out exactly where to start in the whole working out process. Decisions decsions and none of them particularly appealing. Why did he have to make life so difficult for himself?

Walking out into the main work out area, in bright flamboyant purple, Juka stood staring, feeling slightly dumbfounded. Did people really use these instruments of torture to get themselves in shape? Were these many contraptions even humane? He stared dubiosly at the weight machines. Nope, that definately wasn't where he was going to get started. Besides, why would he want to demean himself by (gasp) actually lifting something when he could bubble it instead? Just didn't make logical sense. So, perhaps a treadmill might be more along the lines of something practical. But then again, he could never fun as fast as he could float, so perhaps scratch that idea too.

Juka sighed dramatically, preparing himself to leave. This was clearly a lost cause. What horrible idea had gotten into his head that had caused him to show up here anyway? That's when he spotted a familiar face, Hernietta whom he had gone shopping with no so long ago and another face, slightly less familiar, who he had seen back at the Mansion. He wibbled a moment before once again sighing in dramatic fashion and approaching. At least he wasn't the only one intent upon personal torture. "My beautiful Henriette. What a pleasure to once again be in your exhaulted company, may dear. And who would this vision with you be?"

Hurdles. Hurdles did not sound fun. They didn’t look fun either, when Henri set one up and leapt over it in all her gazelle leg grace. Eyeing the hunk of metal dubiously, Twyla spoke in a hesitant tone. “That doesn’t look very easy to me. More like impossible for short people.” Legs up high? Twyla had never really been good at that. Sure, in dance her kicks could go above her head...but that was a kick...not a jump over a menacing looking hurdle. “Well, I suppose...” The girl backed up and positioned herself a few feet in front of the thing. She attempted to copy the other girl’s stance before she took off running down the track. At the sound of a male voice she stopped dead in her tracks, inches away from her leap of faith across the obstacle.

Bright purple pants?

Two things crossed the girls mind almost simultaneously: This someone knows Henri. and Oh my god I’m jealous of those purple pants. She stole a sneaky, brown-eyed glance at the purple panted person and then at Henri. She knows the most random people. She thought to herself, thinking of the strange boy named Van she’d seen a picture of on New Year’s.

By the time Twyla had collected herself enough to speak she had also caught her breath that had gotten away during her dash at the hurdle. It took a few blinks, but she managed to answer for herself instead of letting Henrietta introduce her. “I’m Twyla.”it came out as almost a question because the girl was slightly confused–she’d never heard the term ‘vision’ being used in that context in anything but books and it threw her off guard.

Upon further inspection it seemed that the person in the purple pants had a familiar face. Mansion resident...maybe? It was funny that Twyla couldn’t place the man with the slightly (well, really) outlandish (for a Y) appearance–then again, she had been a bit distracted since before Christmas...maybe she’d seen him everyday and it just hadn’t sunk into her brain. Deciding that she really didn’t know the newcomer, she decided to throw out: “Nice to meet you...?” As she hesitantly eextended her hand for a shake.

Tywla was about to leap over. Henrietta clapped her hands together in excitement. She's got this. She can totally- A man's voice had made Twyla stop right before the hurdle. Turning, the brunette saw Juka Miami. The man who had found a beautiful dress for her over a month before. Henri felt herself grin. She had enjoyed hanging out with the man in the past. He was nice and she'd never met anyone else quite like him. Juka had a way of complimenting, which he did to Twyla as well. "Hey Juka. Twyla, this is Juka Miami. He helped me find that pretty dress that I showed you. He lives at the Mansion. You probably recognize him. He was at Central Park on Christmas Eve too."

Now that Twyla and Juka knew each other's names, she began to move more hurdles around. She had three all about 6 feet away. Backing up, she went back into her starting position. Taking off, she ran about 20 feet before making it over one hurdle, two hurdles, and...Henri stopped and doubled over. The girl took a few deep breaths. She was a little out of shape after all. Thank god for YMCA's. Laughing, she turned to Twyla. "It was a good idea to come here. I guess I could use the practice." Jokingly she added, "And maybe an inhaler..."

Walking back over to the pair, she sat down on the track. "So, Twyla, you've told me that you hate to run. What do you want to do? It's your turn to pick. I'll probably come back here at some point though." She looked over at the hurdles and narrowed her eyes. We will meet again... And they most certainly would. There was no way that Henrietta May Braun was going to give up, especially since she had had a vendetta with hurdles for almost a year now.

Looking back at Juka, she smiled. "So what are you here to do, Juka? Swimming, weight lifting, running..?" Henri didn't want to invite Juka along without consulting Twyla, but she didn't want to just walk away from him either. Striking up a conversation was all she could think of. She would wait to see how the blonde acted. If she seemed to want to move on, she was game. This was Henrietta's way of playing it safe. Well, they can't get along any worse than he and Noel did. Twyla's a very friendly person and so is he. The brunette had liked Noel as well, but her personality differed a bit from Twyla's. Maybe these two could get along without trying so very, very hard.

Twyla, Juka decided, was clearly adorable. No question about it, the way she answered just a little unsure of herself was posatively cute. She didn't seem the type to be used to compliments and that most certainly would have to change. Juka bowed deeply to her, a little disappointed that he didn't have his usual skirts to billow prettily around him, but he made due. "I am Juka Miami." He said it was an heir of importance but the grin on his face softened the egotistic bent to his words. Yes, he knew his own import and wasn't ashamed to admit it, but he also knew better than to try and shove it down people's throats. They must, in their own time, figure it out for themselves.

Henrietta also seemed pleased to see him again, which made him more happy than mere words could convey and he bowed towards her as well. "You two lovely, sweetest women have made my day. Before you appeared, this was to be a dreary day of working out but you have spared me that fate." He looked, once again, towards the various contraptions meant for builing muscle or strengthening endurance. Nope. Nothing had changed in the past few minutes. They still looked more like instruments of torture than something that should be used of his own free will.

"I have no idea what I'm doing here," Juka answered with a dramatic pout. "I thought if I was to be a proper super hero I should work out and get in shape, but now that I'm here I just don't know." Confusion in his words but not a hint of shame over the fact that he had just stated that his ambitions involved becoming a proper super hero. The normal conventions of society, such not admitting a desire to become a character in a comic book, simply didn't apply to him.

Juka Miami, as he (and Henri) introduced himself (the man in the purple pants) bowed. Instantly Twyla's hand dropped to her side. 'Vision' and bowing? How very...elegant? In response Twyla did the best curtsy she could muster in over sized sweat pants. "Nice to meet you, Juka." She straightened herself up and turned to Henri. "Now that you say that I think I've seen him around..." She trailed off, thinking on the matter. She'd probably seen him around--just been too distracted by everything else to make his acquaintance. But even if she really hadn't seen him around she'd seen the dress her friend was talking about and that connection was as good as one she could have forged between the two of them in person. Someone who could get Henrietta out of her trendy clothing and into something more unique was good in Twyla's book.

Spared him of that fate? Twyla thought not. She had a mission--to rid herself of the pudge that in her mind had grown to a twenty pound gain that made her look terrible (it really wasn't that bad at all). That mission was not going to be compromised by one of Henri's random acquaintances. If he wanted to talk to them he was going to do it while they worked her ass off--their asses off.

So Juka wanted to be a super hero? Funny thing...Twyla shared a similar goal. Thinking on her feet about the whole conversation and the beautiful room full of gymnastics equipment down the hall she made a decision to extend an invitation to the man who used such colorful vocabulary. "Well, Henri I think we should warm up...and play in the block pit..." And on the bars...beam...vault... "If you wanted to," She turned again to the man. "You could join us. If you don't usually work out you're gonna want to start slower and we're just getting back into it." The girl smiled but there was a determination in her eyes that made them almost hard, the pudge would start to die this day.

Twyla started walking toward the door, she was excited about that block pit. it brought back so many memories of her younger gymnastics practices when somersaults were still new.

Juka said he wanted to be a superhero. Henrietta tilted her head as she pictured him with a cape and a large ‘J’ on his shirt. She smirked to herself slightly and almost began to giggle. Luckily, she stopped herself before it happened. She wasn’t sure how you were appointed a superhero. Maybe it was when you became an X-Men. She wasn’t for sure. Henri didn’t know much about all of the mutant groups you could join. It would be interesting to find out at some point.

Henrietta smiled. Twyla told Juka that he could come too. The brunette felt a little bit more comfortable already. She didn’t have to tell him that he couldn’t come. Twyla was always very nice, so the girl had figured it would go well. The blonde wanted to go to the block pit. Henri rubbed one foot on top of the other nervously. “Yeah, but I’m going to need your help. I’m not very coordinated.” The girl felt a blush come to her face. The only thing that didn’t make her look like a long, flimsy loser was the hurdles. God bless hurdles.

What Twyla said to Juka was true. It would be better if he started out slow. Going all out when you’re just starting to workout was never good. Henri remembered when she first started training for track. The girl had pushed herself really hard and had ended up tripping and spraining her ankle. Well, it wasn’t so much tripping as it was passing out. She couldn’t breathe well, but continued to run until the point where she became light headed and her vision got blurry. It was scary, but she was way too stubborn to give up on running.

(OOC: Sorry about the long delay I've been sick and just realized I forgot about this thread.)

"I would so very love to join you," Juka agreed. "Perhaps you could tell me where would be the best place to start?" Another glare at the evil looking weight machines. Nope. He might not know much about working out, but he knew enough to know that those machines were not something that he wanted to get anywhere close to. Definately not.

Juka followed the two girls to the block pit, quite uncertain what it was he was about to get himself into. "Don't worry sweetness," Juka assured Henrietta. "I'm sure I can help with your coordination. As a performer I have to be graceful." It was a shame that neither of the two girls had had the opportunity to see him perform. He went all out in his stage shows, both dancing and singing. But, hopefully, that would change soon.

"I'm a dancer as well as a singer and dancing, at least, requires grace." Juka did a spinning bow as if to illustrate his point. If all that was required was a little coordination then perhaps he would do better than expected.

((OOC: It's all good, what matters is that [hopefully] you're better and that you remembered eventually))

"Aw, don't worry about it, Henri. It's a block pit, mostly you just run and jump into it. Funny thing, Juka" The girl stopped walking and took a few steps away from the other two into the hall. "I dance too." Her left foot planted itself while her right leg moved out and then back in a move that sent Twyla into a spin, her arms coming out in front of her like someone holding a beach ball. She managed with the sudden momentum and the spring in her legs to get around twice but she stumbled on the third turn. "I could never do triples..." The blond muttered to herself as she led the way once again to the gymnastics room.

Was I just showing off? Oops.

Once they were inside the still empty room full of gymnastic equipment Twyla deposited her duffel against a wall and began a few leg stretches. "So Juka, what kind of music do you make?" It was getting easier and more natural, this 'small talk' thing. Once you had to do it with almost every person you met you learned the ropes of casual conversation and Twyla Ashby was no exception. Once she lowered herself into her middle splits the girl decided that she was done with her legs and moved onto her arms. As she pulled her left elbow behind her head she caught a glimpse of a familiar looking set of bars.

"Henri! They have uneven bars!" Of course there was a sign next to them that said 'not without supervision' but Twyla didn't let that dampen her excitement. After they got warmed up she'd explore her rustiness. Uneven Bars was not her favorite event, but it was the one that the young mutant had always been the best at, ever since she could reach the bottom bar.

((No problem, Juka. Hope you're feeling better again.))


Juka tried to comfort Henrietta about her lack of grace. Laughing, the brunette scratched her head. He said that he danced and sang. He pulled a spin and then Twyla did as well. The girl smiled. "I know how to dance. I'm not amazing, but I'm not horrible either." Putting herself into a spinning position from her jazz class, the girl prepped and did a double spin. She didn't dare try a triple. Even Twyla couldn't do that. Henri stopped and thought about trying to pull herself on to bars. "I'm just not sure how much upper body strength I have."

Speak of the devil. They walked into a room full of gymnastic equipment. Low and behold, there were bars! Henrietta felt herself cringe slightly. The girl hadn't even been very good on monkey bars. She couldn't imagine herself trying to do some sort of flippy things on theses suckers. Twyla seemed excited though, so Henri made herself give an approving smile. Whoopee...Killer metal bars of death...And they're even uneven! Oh joy... This time, a real smile sprouted onto her face. She gestured to the bars. "Show me what you got, girl!" The brunette was authentically excited to see her best friend do something amazing, but not so much to try something herself.

Glancing at Juka, she smiled. "Besides dancing, is there anything else you enjoy doing exercise wise?" Henrietta stopped a minute and grinned to herself. Sweet, I rhymed. I should write poetry. Deep down, the girl knew she shouldn't. She loved to read and wasn't a terrible writer, but poetry was one of those things that she could never imagine herself doing. She didn't even enjoy reading some types of it. Well, at not least the ones that didn't rhyme. There were so many different types of poetry. In her opinion, only Dr. Suess was a real poet.

It seemed that Juka was in the presence of a pair of very talented ladies and he couldn't help but grin his appreciation of their respective displays. "I play jrock. Or at least I did until I came here. But once I get myself a drummer I would be honoured if you two beautiful woman would come and see me perform." No shame in a little shameless self promotion. Nope, none at all. Some might even consider it an absolutle necessity for a starving artist like him. Even if he wasn't technically starving.

"I've never really excercised outside of practicing for my performances," Juka answered forlornly. He gave the uneven bars a dubious look. A dubious look that also had quite the hint of little kid in a candy store. Was it really his fault that as a child he always thought they looked like tons of fun? No, he most certainly didn't have the least bit experience in using such things, but that wasn't the point. The point as that they were there and he wanted to spin around on them. The problem, of course, was that his feet would touch the floor with the lower one and he couldn't quite reach the higher one without leaping from one bar to the other and he wasn't quite ready to try that quite yet.

Juka looked around covertly, making sure there was no one else presently in the room. Confirming that the three of them were alone, he decided that he wouldn't get lectured too severely if he were ot cheat, just a little. A moment later his bubble appeared and he floated up to the higher bar, releasing the bubble in such a way that he landed on top of the higher of the two bars. And then proceeded to spin from the top of the bar to the bottom, somehow managing to hold on. It wasn't good. It wasn't even graceful. But nevertheless, Juka had a huge grin on his face as if he were having the time of his life and, indeed, he was.

It felt good to stretch out her arms. With her spotty sleeping patterns lately Twyla had a lot of tension built up in her shoulders and she was slowly working it out with the slow, methodical stretching. She turned to the man in the purple pants when he answered her question and smiled at yet another compliment. "Very cool, consider us there." Twyla had never actually been to a real concert of any kind. Nothing ever came through her area back home that she'd ever been dying to go to and even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't have had the money or the time to spend a night in town instead of doing chores, homework, or practice.

Twyla laughed at Henri's response when she discovered the bars. "Maybe later. That's not something I'd try without warming up first." That's a good way to pop out your shoulders, or pull something, or to fall off and break your neck. None of those options sounded like much fun. Juka mentioned that he didn't really work out at all while staring at the bars. Before she could say anything, there was a bubble and then the man was hanging from the highest bar. She watched with worry and mild shock fighting each other across her face as Juka proceeded to swing a bit. He, blessedly, managed to keep his hold and seemed to be enjoying himself. The girl let out the breath she'd been holding when it appeared there hadn't been any catastrophe and smiled. Not that there probably would have been an issue--Twyla had just seen too many accidents on the bars not to get tense watching.

"Nice." She smiled as she pulled off her large tee shirt, revealing the green top of a leotard underneath. "But I think you need to work on your mount." Twyla laughed a bit, but it wasn't a mean laugh--upper body strength was always good, even if it didn't come with the body control that made Uneven Bars a graceful event. The sweat pants came off after the sneakers and a slight blush flashed on her cheeks when she adjusted the bottom of her leo. "This was always the best part of practice when I was little..." The girl remembered as she took a few steps away from her pile of clothes. A second later she was a few feet in front of the pit with her back to it. A back handspring that ended with her legs tucked under her in something that resembled a 'cannon ball' into a pool and Twyla was in the pit, totally spacing the other people in the room because of the flood of memories, both physical and mental.

Juka spoke about his singing. Henrietta grinned at the mention and thought of J-rock. "I love J-rock!" She felt her face turn a red color. The girl had never shared her love for Japanese music with anyone before. It had never really popped into a conversation before. Most people didn't listen to it, or even know what it was. Twyla said that they would definitely be there and the brunette nodded vigorously in agreement. She liked Juka and J-rock. How could the combination be anymore cool? Going with Twyla would only make it better. The girl smiled as she thought about all the new friends she had made sense moving to New York. Being here made her a lot happier than she had been in Springfield.

As she looked at her two companions, she watched one, Juka, fly into the air inside a bubble. Henri watched as he floated to the higher bar and then made his way to the lower one. He wasn't the most graceful person she'd ever seen on bars, but who was she to judge? She probably couldn't do that at all. One thing that Henrietta was good at, was pole vault. If only they had something for me to go over the bars with. The brunette glanced around and then decided to give up. Instead, she watched as Twyla did some sort of backwards thingy. She was pretty sure it was called a backhand spring, but wouldn't bet her life on it.

Henrietta debated what she wanted to do. Bars were not going to happen and she knew that. There had to be something. A thought hit her. Grinning, she began to slide into the sideways splits. She came all the way down and then rolled forward into a type of tumble she watched the local dance team do at school. Standing up, she leaned to her right side and grabbed her leg as if to stretch, but then brought into straight up into the air. Releasing her leg, she went into a spin. The girl stopped and almost fell over. Uh-oh...Dizzy. After stumbling for a few seconds, Henri blinked to straighten out her vision. Laughing, she rubbed at her eyes.

Juka wasn't exactly used to a personal lack of grace but he also wasn't used to swinging on bars. In truth, however, he really didn't care much one way or another. He had always suspected, as a child, that those bars were secretly fun, but how could he have known just how right he could be? He let out a childlike giggle and did another clumsy somersault. Nope, he had not talent for this at all and most certainly was not about to let go of the higher bar and try to jump to the lower bar; that would be downright suicidal. But he most certainly was having a great time. Finally, however, he let go and landed on the mat. There was no fancy dismount, no impressive flips, but at least he managed to land on his feet.

"As soon as I have my new band up and running I promise you two will be my most special VIP guests. You can have backstage access and everything." Now if only he could find his perfect drummer then he would be set. His perfect mutant drummer, of course. He had plans to bring visual kei to the next level, incorporating mutant powers into the performance, an idea gotten while floating around Times Square with Maxine, a sweety of a reporter even if her octoclip was a little on the strange side.

Juka stood a moment, watching Henrietta as she tumbled. Now, gymnastics was another interesting idea. Maybe he could learn a little of that and have it improve his performance on stage? It was, after all, another form of dancing. Something to consider. And while he considered, Juka began to stretch. He had always been naturally flexible, a necessity for the type of dance he did. He lifted his leg high above his head, though opted to neither spin nor do the splits. Spinning might come later and splits, alas, were beyond him. Once stretched he would figure out what kind of actual workout to do.