Re: (Open) Working Out. « Thread Started on Oct 21, 2006, 9:36pm »
A single hand was placed on the handle of the gym and with a quick abrupt movement of his arm it opened effortlessly sailing behind him and the heavy metal music entering his ears instantly. With the high form of the six foot eight man he stepped into the gym, small smiles spreading throughout the entire work out area to see Markus Calaway enter, but no one truly knew of the name in which he was given when he was born. No one knew, except for a select few in his lifetime, and even they only had heard it after being considered trusted. Instead of his given name all they heard was the name in which he wished to be called, by all, at all times. …The Undertaker… nothing more and nothing less. If called otherwise, his snakelike eyes would snap in a rage of fiery fury, and just like that you could be considered on his bad list. If any list that your name or face fell under, the name that you would least want to fall under in the bad list of The Undertaker. You were to never be trusted and in return, no one wanted to be around you, or talk to you, for this town was The Undertaker’s turf, his property, his territory and no other would say otherwise to the veteran of experienced fight and abilities.
Long ago in a city that he remembered well, Vice City…he could see the town with his own eyes and his own dreams. A single friend he had had, what had become of Dean Winchester he wasn’t aware of. But this Dean, even if he didn’t know his real name that only a few ever knew had truly been a friend. Mark could always count on him through the thick and through the thin and nothing would ever make Mark forget such a relationship. After such a time and after progressing through the progress of learning of the facts of being a werewolf and being a lycan Mark he had matured. Of course he hadn’t been on his own for very long, after his despicable past and long ago when he had lived underneath the household of Paul Bearer. But no, that wasn’t even considered a household that had to be considered nothing but hell. Mark moved his face into a frown as he remembered his past, something that he hated to talk and he hated to think about. He approached his most prized machines, the one that he used far too often, and far too many people didn’t have the chance to use it. But due to his height and size no one bothered to truly argue over it. Everyone watched as the mammoth moved across the large workout space, many sighing in relief to see him move further back to the locker room and disappear behind the swiveling door.
He took a few heavy steps, a few men chatting but then their eyes turning to the ground in their own embarrassment. Both men partially overweight and to suddenly see such a prized and perfected body enter the room made them both cramp their traps in their own foolish words. They both recognized the man as Undertaker, both hearing of the stories behind the soul that walked alone, and almost always alone. But as usually Mark was accustomed to the stares that the two gave him, moving to a vacant locker and taking off of the trench coat that stretched down to his ankles. Sliding the coat off to reveal his monstrous tattoos covering his arms, demons, skulls, wizards and markings all mentioning something special in his development of his life, to remember what he had been through, so he would never forget all the tough nights that he had felt. All those nights when he would be beaten for a lost poker game, the nights when he would transform and Paul Bearer would yell things to him, “You’re a freak kid, you will never live a normal life!”
Up to that point no, no Mark hadn’t lived a normal life. He was rather poor, with little money remaining from what he had taken from Paul Bearer after he had taken advantage of him that night on the docks. He rarely had enough money for food, and many nights would go to bed hungry, sleeping in the park, or hiding in the shadows from the hunters that wanted him dead more than anything in the world. For to many, the idea of a lycan, a werewolf roaming the streets was something that no mortal wanted. That werewolves were dangerous and in a way Mark knew that he was dangerous. He had seen it in that cemetery long ago in Vice City, when had had fought his only friend nearly to the death and he had no recognition that he had done anything at all.
Mark fiddled with the lock on locker before returning out to the main work out area, shirtless now, more tattoos on the center of his stomach and all the way up and down his arms being seen, no other tattoos available to be seen. As he stepped out over the locker room he looked to the right, looking through the small window on the door, long tied up auburn hair and matching goatee looking in the direction of the woman in the pool area…eyes meeting for a mere second….
Re: (Open) Working Out. « Reply #1 on Oct 31, 2006, 7:55pm »
Rhiannon had decided that she needed to start a workout routine. So, she went down to the local workout room. When she walked in she noticed how many males were there. Oy, she thought, I should have come earlier. Then she noticed another woman. Well, at least she wasn't quite alone. She surveyed the room trying to decide where she should start. Hmmm, weights or pool? She finally decided weights. I think the back would be advisable, she thought to herself. And so she made her way around the perimeter in order to attract as little attention as possible. This did not work. When she got halfway around some fresh young guy came up to her smirking. "What's a little lady like you doing in a place like this?"he asked. Little lady?! Oh no he didn't! "This 'little lady' is trying to get to the weights, now move!"she said. She tried to push past him but he blocked her. "Oh come on no need to get testy,"he said. "I'll show you testy!"she said as she slammed him against the wall. "You want to apologise now?"Rhiannon asked. "Ok ok! Gezz!"he said. She held him there for awhile ,but then decided he wasn't worth it. As she moved on she spotted a radio. She changed it to a rap/hip hop station. "You boys don't have a problem with this do you?"she asked testily. They all just shook their heads and immediately went back to their weightlifting. Ok so this day hasn't exactly started off wonderfully, she thought. All of a sudden she noticed a man standing at the back by himself. Why would he be alone? Surely he had friends. She noticed no one made eye contact with him. They're afraid of him, she realised. But why? He doesn't look all that scary or mean. She decided to make an impulse decision. She walked right up to him and said,"Excuse me sir but why are you back here all by yourself?"
Re: (Open) Working Out. « Reply #2 on Nov 1, 2006, 3:27pm »
Mark rolled his arms in small circles as he approached the machines, lengthy legs stretching as he approached a corner of the room to his favorite workout machine, perfectly vacant and ready for use. Mark was one to be patient, but none of the people that had such a respect for him knew anything about him, because they were too busy keeping their eyes on the floor in their own foolish fears. But if they had asked, Mark would only turn them down, once again denying anyone to come into his life, for he had already ruined one. He let out a small breath from his lungs as he moved towards it, his reflection in the mirror as he strode over, entire body just glowing back at him with such a perfection that him himself didn’t recognize.
Mark thought of himself as another guy on the street, just another soul that no one noticed or wished to care about and he thought himself as nothing more than that. Even if his body was perfect in every manner, even if his height was tremendous and quite an accomplishment, how he managed to keep in such great shape and do very little in the gym, how he could easily keep his secret of being a werewolf, he could hide the fact that when the night turned full he would transform into a beast like no mortal had ever seen. Anyone in that gym at that moment would be frightened out of their minds if they saw what he could do, and what he turned into to do it.
He gave out a small yawn as he placed his hand on the work out machine, ready to take a seat and beginning to pump iron as he heard a small voice behind him. At first he wasn’t exactly sure if she was talking to he, and through every fiber in his being he hoped that she surely wasn’t talking to him, that she wasn’t trying to communicate and put her life in complete misery and misfortune. He tilted his head behind him, his whole and huge frame turning to see the woman behind him, looking up to meet his orbs of green and seeing his long auburn hair flow freely down his back. He pulled it back and out of his face with a quick motion of his hand as it was sent through his hair and he gazed down at her for a moment to evaluate what she was saying and whether or not to answer her.
Her question was simple and understandable, why was he alone, why was his shadow solo…why was he isolated and on his own? She was plenty shorter than he, and his large arms could simply snap her in two like a twig, but Mark was naturally kind hearted and one of a kind heart wouldn’t even think of putting harm to such a kind and nice woman. He arched a faint orange eyebrow at her curiosity and looked around the gym to at first see confused and interested faces but then abruptly turned away heads out of their own embarrassment for being caught looking at him. But Mark served no punishment for such deeds, he was merely searching for any man that might have been her up to coming up to him and talking to him, but no snickering or laughing could be heard through the gym.
He kept his gaze down at her, “A lot of reasons,” he replied, deep, husky, Texas accented voice answering her question as he settled down on the machine, and let his back fall to the black placement. He set the weight amount before giving a few reps and pushing the weight amount higher. He tilted his head gently to see her still there, her gaze still held onto him. “Problem,” he asked, softly and demanding eyes full of slight irritation.
Re: (Open) Working Out. « Reply #3 on Jan 20, 2007, 5:40pm »
”Mmm, I sense irritation” Rox mumbled as she gazed at the gym. The cat side of her was working hard as she went through the gym with her sharp look. Her eyes hit a large muscle guy and a young woman who was talking to him. Or was it just an overload of testosterone she sensed, and smelled. She had been at the gym for a while already, stretching and warming up. She had seen the woman enter and had also seen the big hunk’s affect on people, which was ridiculous.
Roxanne laid her sneaky, estimating look on the guy that she had heard being called Undertaker. She took of her sweatshirt revealing her black, sports top, as she decided to start the real training. She often trained boxing and different kinds of martial arts. Her training was always much disciplined and she was usually very concentrated but now she was intrigued by the presence of Undertaker. Her mind itched to go on and pick a fight. He would probably make a decent opponent. As a boxer Rox was always estimating the possible opponents.
She stood up and walked to the nearest empty boxing space she could find. She kept an eye on the woman and Undertaker the whole time but then she focused on the boxing sack in front of her waiting to be beat. She threw a punch and that was followed by a strong kick. She did a series of punches and kicks till she turned to look around at the gym. A sneaky grin waved on her blood red lips. “Anyone of you got balls enough to train with me for few punches?” She asked with loud voice. Few guys started to stare at her with hesitating looks. They most likely thought she was crazy. She knew there were rumours about her moving around. Many of them told about her boxing times, when she was known as the Viper. She had heard that the rumours told she had gone crazy in her last fight and killed all five of her opponents there. In reality there had been three opponents and she had won them. Then she had just simply stopped boxing for money. But apparently the rumours were still moving around like a small plague. Now, now. It can't be that Im surrounded by people with no will to fight. This much testosterone, but still no fighting? Roxanne thought as she waited for someone to train with.
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