week three - tuesday morning

[refactor]

[ How did Jack convince Rhys to actually get his ass out of bed early in the morning and head to the gym? That's the real mystery here, not the murder. But, somehow, he's managed, even if Rhys is probably half asleep as Jack is going along to the gym. By comparison, Jack is already pretty animated and excited, so he's definitely starting off on the right foot by talking Rhys's ear off. ]

—I mean, look at you. I bet- No, I'm sure, you're one of those guys that has a craaa^aaazy metabolism so you can just eat pizza and garbage all day and just be stupidly skinny. Well, first thing's first, that's not normal, so you're gonna start working for it. Seriously. Maybe if you actually put on some muscle, you might actually be able to do a little more when you're on the verge of death instead of, I dunno, a certain handsome, built guy having to step in to clean things up for you. Which, I admit, times in the past? Not exactly based on muscle. Since, uh, kinda didn't matter with the whole hologram thing.

[ is there a buffer overflow yet ]

So c'mon, you, me, the weight room, maybe shooting a few hoops? Have you even been to a gym before? Actually, no, don't answer that, I have a guess and it's going to piss me off. So I'm pretending you have. The point is, we're making up for these past few weeks of doing goddamn nothing.

Comments

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[ Jack's Great Offense here is palpable from how tightly his arms are crossed and the thinness of his frown. If this were anyone else, they'd probably be in a dangerous situation right about now, but. Rhys isn't entirely wrong here, and it's not like there's a ready supply of people to replace him.

That, and Rhys's question is enough to get Jack to throw his hands into the air in exasperation. ]

You are such a dick in the mornings, Jesus.

[ they're not married, they swear ]

[ At least to get some of this slightly violent energy out, Jack punches Rhys's arm. It's not quite enough to be actually, worryingly violent, but it's not completely playful either. ]

Okay, you know what? I'm gonna teach ya. Because I changed my mind. You're the one lifting weights today, cupcake. I'm spotting you.

[jackhole]

[ it's definitely enough for rhys to mumble an ow and then rub at the spot jack punched him on. rhys makes a face again and continues following after jack towards the gym, trying to figure out a way out of this. ]

But... why?

[ and actually, it's jack's punch to his flesh arm that makes him realize the perfect way to escape. ]

I, uh, I ask because isn't it kind of pointless? I only have one arm that would lift anything, I'm totally off-balanced! Really, we should just go get some breakfast instead. I'm thinking pancakes.

[ give it up! give it up! give it up! ]

[refactor]

Completely sure that's the reason. And not that you're a lazy fatass who wants pancakes.

[ Rhys cannot escape his doom, because here they are, at the gym finally... But Jack isn't letting this go so easily, so he shakes his head as he wags a finger to go with it. ]

And that's exactly why you need to actually work out. You've got on arm that's decent and then one that's- [ He looks at Rhys's arm ] Okay, honestly, it's bad enough that it's probably undoing all the good the other one is doing.

[jackhole]

[ he is a lady fatass who wants pancakes but also fuck you.

rhys makes a bit of a face of disgust when they get to the gym, lifting his hand to drag it over his face as he listens to jack. ]

I'm going to die. You know that, right? I'm going to just touch one of these things and just die, bam. Keel over and goodbye, no more Rhys. Do you want that, Jack? You want me to die? Oh my god, I can't believe this.

[ seriously, don't make the nerd work out. ]

[refactor]

Oh my g— Jesus you are such a whiny bitch.

[ He will literally drag Rhys if he has to, but they're heading straight to weight room because this is fantasy rp land where I can gloss over doing stretches first. ]

You, I mean, you realize you die from shit like a bullet in your head, not working out. [ :) ] You're not gonna die from lifting a few friggin' weights, kiddo. Like- Like, okay, here, story time. Me? I actually used to look more like you, dumbass. Until I decided to get over myself and just go to the goddamn gym. And now, look at me. I'm a friggin' rockstar. So. Living proof. Doesn't kill you.

[jackhole]

[ stretching is boring so rhys is just gonna keep following jack, even if totally miserable about it. ugh, jack, why are you doing this to him?

this. is. torture. in the most petulant mumble -- ]

I'm not gonna get shot in the head -- [ wait. what? ] ... Whaaaat.

[ seriously, is jack shitting around here? ]

You were all... what? Oh my god, tell me you have pictures.

[ hnngh jack being a skinny hipster jackass sounds super hot to rhys. he has bad taste but he desperately wants to see it anyway. ]

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[ Jack stops at one of the weight racks. Just. To look at Rhys with this expression. There's a pause to really let the judgement sink in, but then he starts counting off with his fingers as he speaks. ]

Okay, one. Super creepy. Like, hide your boner-creepy.

[ Jack says, but of course he loves the attention, so really, this is a stupid thing for him to complain about. ]

Two, I mean. Technically. Yes? Of course I have pictures of myself when I was younger? But three? Not here. Obviously. Why the hell would I have pictures of me from t-- [ Wait, no, he's not saying a number. He shakes his head. ] Too long ago.

[jackhole]

[ okay, rhys sure doesn't appreciate that look of judgment. he's just going to turn really red and in a kind of petulant, whiny voice -- ]

I don't have a boner.

[ like ugh jack, come on! why would he ever have a boner. you're so rude, jack. so rude. except he also feels kind of ridiculous for asking now and just -- you know what? this was a terrible conversation track and he regrets it. ]

I-- I mean, in general, I guess? I know you don't have them here but it would... be cool if you did? I don't know. Nevermind. What are we even doing?

[ please change the subject, jack. dear god. ]

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Okay, can you blame me for saying it? I've seen the merch of me. [ Jack pauses, then starts laughing as he snickers proudly. ] --Actually, approved some of it. You idiots will buy anything...

[ That thought seems to at least improve Jack's mood, since he continues to laugh in that sort of childish way that implies that the merch he approved is probably the filthiest of the bunch. Which, yeah. Naturally. This isn't the subject change that Rhys was hoping for, but luckily, it doesn't linger, since Jack is starting to set up a weightlifting bench. ]

Weightlifting, pumpkin. Since it's pretty much the best thing you can do if you want guns like these. But. I will have mercy on you, because I'm super kind. Slash because I'm the one that actually friggin' wants to work out here, so I'm going first so that you don't ruin my enthusiasm.