Citadel, Quanda's Fitness Center) Gathering Strength-(Open)

Quanda's Fitness Center hand't had an easy time of it the last few years. Like much of Tayseri, the Center had to deal with a struggling economy, significant damages, and an increase in predators wanting to take advantage of whatever they could. Time, effort, and good investing had helped the business survive, and in fact, thrive in the face of adversity. Once simply an honest gym, it had managed to expand, and along with a sizable physical fitness center, it had a pool, and a daycare center for the younger visitors.

It was in the cardio center that Vohkaidin was exercising, running on a treadmill, sweat beading down his forehead and body. He'd been on the machine for quite some time now, much longer than he'd ever been able prior to joining the Alliance and subsequent genetic modification. He'd never been an unfit person, but it was quite the change to go from physically healthy to becoming one of the elite. Even so, he was still just a grunt, and there was always room for improvement.

With that in mind, he thought about the upcoming marathon. It was still a big question mark on whether he'd be able to go, especially since the Yorktown's marine deployment tended to jump from continent to continent. Captain Olivier believed that his ground pounders were better used to support often strained marines keeping the peace on Earth than idling aboard the ship. Vohk had no doubt he'd be on at least two separate continents within the coming months. Chances were he'd not get a chance to be a part of the marathon.

Still, he could stand to push himself more, and much of his furlough on the Citadel had spent quietly relaxing with his family. When he went back to work, he'd need to be ready for whatever brand of chaos fate would no doubt torment him with. Unintentionally, Knox flexed his left hand, not sure if the tiny whir of servos was real or something he imagined.

Just remember what you're doing it all for. It's just an arm. It's something you can deal with. Dealt with

With a sigh, he turned off the tread, the machine rapidly slowing from the pace he'd set. Helena was elsewhere in the gym, weight section he believed, while Delia was in day care. Knox picked up a towel, and brushed the sweat clear from his face, before taking a glance around the gym. Busy day today.

And then there was the solitary raloi, standing in red shorts that meshed badly with his black plumage. If Shaart had gotten the choice of colour, he'd picked black but then it would have looked like he was standing there naked, and that would have not flown with the fitness center staff or clientele.

Mammals. They and their taboos of the bare body. You should have evolved to keep the genitals inside. the raloi thought to himself as he waited for his trainee to arrive.

He'd need to see how well maintained she was before deciding on the type of exercise regime to pick.

Michelle Rondor arrived soon after, with her gym clothes. No tacky glasses today (although she had really tried to find some with an exercise theme). First thing she did was to scan the room. Not to find Shaart who was pretty visible, but in fear of seeing one person in particular.
A very, very mean quarian Michelle had been running into a lot lately, and who would definitely express no small amounts of contempt to someone like her trying to get in shape.
Satisfied that she was nowhere to be seen she walked toward Shaart.

"Hi! It's great to see you out of that suit! I may even say you're turning a few heads! So what's the plan?"

It was hard for her not to chuckle at how awkward those red shorts looked over his plumes, but it's not like he could go naked after all.

Michael entered the Fitness center. As a C-Sec officer, fitness in all areas of the body (as well as mind) was expected of their officers. Due to the fact he had no biotics, nor was a Turian who were all ridiculously fit (seriously, that was a bit creepy), he needed to exercise about twice a week to keep his body in shape. His job actually kept him in pretty good shape by itself, but when there was no case, he needed the exercise to keep up strength. When there was a case he would often be too busy to go to an actual gym.

Recently, however, he had been dwelling more and more on events best left in the past. His sleep had been interrupted constantly. Often he found himself wistful. According to his doctor he was showing signs of depression. The Doctor had recommended pills, but Michael never had the heart to take them. Thus he began seeking out alternative methods to get better sleep. One, that his mother had told him, was to exercise because it increased something or other in your body, and that led to happiness. In truth he had no idea if this was actual fact or just an 'old-wives' tale. But he had nothing to lose from trying. At worst he would get a good exercise in (even if his mood didn't improve).

The first place he decided to visit was the weights room. A nice repetitive act to keep his mind off of things. Not making eye contact with anyone, he went to the appropriate weight set. Forty kilograms should be a nice starting place for him to begin at. He remembered lifting more in the Corps, but he didn't want to start out exactly where he left off. After all, he would almost certainly injure himself due to the loss of muscle mass.

Sarah was already present- Running off to the side with AR glasses on replacing the reality she saw, the sound provided by small nodules in her earlobes- Sound fed directly akin to headphones. The field she ran through was similar to the one back home- Back when she still had a home to call one on Bekenstein.

The warm air and woosh of sea spray and the knee-high green and gold grasses, all seemed to be well. Her shoes were athletic- As were the knee-length shorts and the same top she wore on her jog earlier this week. Not that she'd care about appearance- Her mind was literally elsewhere.

Sullivan wasn't the only person working in the weight room. A short haired brunette briefly glanced at him, before proceeding with her own exercises, raising a pair of dumbbells to her chest.


Helena had no intention of running in the Marathon. Unlike her husband, she was content to regain a moderate state of health. Getting back into journalism, along with the serious prospect of having a career with the FCC again require her to be fit enough to work in the field, at the very least. She wasn't looking to get ripped like Vohk, though she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoyed the show.

She put her weights down, and took a sip out of her water bottle, relishing the cool sensation traveling down her throat. Helena wondered for a moment, if she wasn't cut out for it. After all, she was a mother now, and along with that responsibility, she didn't have the edge like she'd used too. Perhaps she'd never had it.

With a sigh, she was about to go back to her weights, when she saw that the new guy looked like he was about to go to work on the bars.

"Hey. Do you need a spotter?"

She asked, since she didn't see anyone else with him.

Michael shrugged. "Sure." He said. While he often did his lifting by himself, (though he understood that this was generally frowned upon by the lifting society) he had not objections to someone being his spotter. Definitely made it safer for him to lift weights if someone was spotting him. Though he knew his own body best (how much weight he could take), there was no shame in having someone tell him if he was trying too hard, or push him if he wasn't trying hard enough.

Michael looked at the person looking to be his spotter. "Michael Sullivan by the way. So you know what name to scream at me when I utterly fail your expectations." He said that last part with a smirk on his face. "And the weights right now are on forty kilos. I like building myself up from there. But if you could double check that for me, I might have accidentally slipped on two forty's instead of the two twenties I'm expecting, and well, let's just say I'd prefer not to be completely embarrassed just as I start my lifts.

Vohk's eyes widened at the sight of a raloi, the first he'd seen in more than a year. He'd thought the entire species had sealed themselves away from the rest of the galaxy, save a few stragglers. He considered the ebon avian for a moment, a fierce looking fellow, even if those red shorts were a bit much. He would have ceased his visible inspection, were it not for him recognizing a familiar face alongside the raloi.

"Michelle Rondor?"

He murmured to himself, before concluding that yes, in fact, it was her. The leader of LTD looked dress for exercise, and he considered popping by for a quick greeting. Before he did so, Center's intercom crackled to life.

"Just a reminder for our guests: Today, we are hosting a series of amateur combat bouts in the martial arts training center. If anyone would like to participate, or spectate, you're free to enter Gymnasium 11 for signups. Thank you, and have a pleasant day."

Vohk considered the intercom for a moment, before shrugging. Maybe he'd check it out later. He glanced at where 2LT Thompson was still pounding away on the tread, firmly encapsulated in whatever reality that gear on her head was taking her. They'd politely greeted each other earlier, before going to their own separate workouts.

WIth that in mind, Vohk made his way over to Rondor and her companion.

"Ms. Rondor, if I'm not mistaken. It's been quite some time."

"Well, I don't have plans of screaming at you any time soon. Especially since I don't have any expectations for you to shatter quite yet.

She pointed before leaning over to check the weights and nodded. "Looks like you got the right ones. You are taking into account that the bar itself is twenty kilos, right? So you'll actually be lifting sixty to start with."

She pointed out, before extending a hand, the glimmer of a wedding band wrapped on her ring finger.

"Helena Knox. You a regular here?"

She asked, glancing at him. He looked fit enough to be a regular exerciser, though she had no idea if he was just here for the day like her, or he was a member.

"This looks like the place." Neela thought to herself, shrugging her shoulder to make her bag more comfortable. She sighed and headed in, ready to start exercisizing. Her eyes flicked around, noting all the people already there. Amongst them, a bird-like creature wher garrish red gym shorts that clashed horribly with its black plumage. 'I think thats a Raloi....' she thought to her self. She shruged and headed to the changing rooms,hhh donning her work out gear and stepping back out, trying to decide what to do first. Deciding on the tredmill, she headed to the closest one. She stepped onto it and flicked the speed up relatively high. Soon her legs were beginning to blur, keeping pace with the machine, so she kicked it down a notch to a measured jog. She looked around the gym, and noted a the man next to her, military, by the lookof it.

Michael nodded. "I know that the bar is twenty kilos. But I never add that on to my lift total. Something psychological about thinking I've done twenty kilos less, even though I know it counts, makes me push myself harder. Anyway, I'm not a member. Actually first time coming here. To be honest I mostly don't have to exercise all that often. My work keeps me in shape." Michael took her hand, shaking it. "It's a pleasure Mrs. Knox." He nodded toward the wedding ring. "I must admit I have heard that name before." He got down on his back, the bar just above him. "But honestly I can't remember." He pushed upwards, holding it for ten seconds before slowly lowering the bar. One he thought to himself.

"What about you? You come here often?"

Fiddeling with the controlls a moment, Neela set the tredmill to pick up on the pace as she set it and closed her eyes, moving into a run. Bits and scenes of the war flashed into her mind, Cipritine engulfed in flames, Aderoth becoming a blind sluaghter, so many other massacres, and finally, Earth. She blinked and suddenly, she was backon the war torn streets, slames burning high as human structures crumbled. Screams of the masses, beingg slaughteres or captured, to be dragged back and processed or reaperfied. The screach shrapnel against her hardsuit as something exploded. The icy burn of the metal bits when the slithered into her skin, havig found the gaps in her armor. But still she ran. She ran and ran, picking up speed until the ground seemed the resist her. She slowed to a stop and blinked. The war torn streets of London vanished and she was back in the gym on the citadel, the tredmill she was on flashing an "overheated" light. "Oops..." She stepped off of the beleagured machine and wiped her face with her towel. Decidingg against another run, she went to te lifting room and picked out a bench already set with anout 180Lbs. On the bar. She sized it up a moment and slid under it. Testing the weight, it was a decent lift, but she got up and added anothe 20 to it. She lay back down and with a grunt, she began the repetetive motion, tryin toclear her mind and forget about war.

Sarah shut off the treadmill after bracing herself along the sides- Then stepped out of the gym and into the women's locker room with a bounce to her step. Reaching her rucksack, she took off her AR gear and set it inside, then pulled out a set of weight-lifter's gloves. Re-enforced fibers, thick padding, and a rep/weight counter, on the left and right hand respectively. Cracking her back and stretching briefly, she made her way back- But not before catching glimpse of Vohkaidin, whom she decided to bug.

Vohk, Michelle, and the Raloi.

"Michelle, we have got to stop meeting like this." The woman crossed her arms across her chest. "I take it that things are going well? How's Julian? Were the doctors able to remove the stick from his ass? I take it that he's still his chipper self despite what's happened."

Meanwhile, a Marine was going to town on a training dummy with a kendo stick, as if blowing off steam.

*THWACK* *THWACK* *THWACK* *THWACK*

Wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead, he continued his assault of the training dummy.

"More than I'd prefer to." he remarked sourly. Shaart turned to appraise Michelle. She didn't look like the worst excesses of city people he'd been subject to. Perhaps the woman had exercised previously, since she planned on attending that marathon.

"I'll put you to the treadmill to see how long you'll last, but first order of business is to get our muscles warmed up and prepared."

It was as much of a test for him as it was for Michelle. Shaart loathed to admit it, but slumming out in the Citadel Foundations had not done good to his fitness. He headed for the free treadmills where his bag was lying, and got to putting on coverings for his talons. He was going barefooted, and they could have dug into the surfaces here with enough pressure.

"Brisk walking for five minutes followed by stretching, then we'll pick up the pace and see how long you can run." he explained.

Michelle smiled back to Vohk and shook his hand.
"Mr Knox, pleasure to see you! I'm actually here thanks to you, Shaart here will help me train for the marathon so I don't embarrass LTD too much. Hey Sarah! You're coming to lose your imaginary overweight I imagine? Mr Snow's fine, thanks again for the help. He's gone back to bashing a few gangers heads. But I'm afraid your love story is not meant to be. He's too young for you anyway."

Shaart brought her back to the reason why she was here and she stepped on the treadmill and started walking fast.

"So Mrs Knox is around?" she asked Vohk while trying to sound casual.

Kitten's got claws. Sarah shook her head in slight disbelief, before speaking with a rapid comeback. "So, saving him for yourself, hm? I thought the two of you would be a good match." The woman rolled her eyes and walked away, taking up the unoccupied weight bench next to Sullivan. Applying 20 pound weights to the leg lift section, Sarah planted the curve of her foot into each side and began to work a series of reps.

Michael continued his reps, barely glancing at Sarah as she sat down mext to her. Though in his normal fashion he did make some not so subtle glances at her toned legs. Admittedly he had some issues. But even then it was more of a defense mechanism. He liked running away from his problems, and as such he turned towards more juvenile antics like trying to be sublte when checking out someone , but not really.

Despite his normal antics, this trip to the gym was exactly what he needed. Just lifting weights, running. Mindless activities that he could just...... do. No need for his brain to come alive or anything. Just sit alone with his thoughts.

And the hot babes exercising around him, he thought with a smirk. If he couldn't laugh off any situation, then he'd probably spend the whole time crying. Of course his eyes wandered to some of the many 'hot babes' exercising around him. Each with perfection in different ways. He'd always liked fit women. Call it a character flaw.

Michael continued lifting the weights.

Neela's arms and chest were starting to burn, prompting her to finish. With a last huff, she pushed the bar back to its cradle and let it drop, sitting up and wiping her face. Spying the chin-up bar mounted to the wall, she moved on to the next phase of her workout. Pulling herself u pwith her arms, she then curled over herself and hooked her legs on the bar, anging upside down. From there, she contemplated the people in the gym, punctuating each thought with an inverted crunch.