4821/Husky Workouts!

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Husky Workouts!
Date of Scene: 21 January 2021
Location: Workout Room
Synopsis: Drake runs into Paige in the gym, and the two get in a bit of a workout. Despite some incredibly jarring discoveries, they make plans for the near future.
Cast of Characters: Drake Riley, Paige Guthrie




Drake Riley has posed:
It's after classes! Well, for the regular student body, at least. For residents of the mansion, it's a bit of a moot point. But how late after class would it happen to be? Drake Riley, not a student, not quite faculty, has found himself trying to duck and dodge the larger groups of either persuasion. It's not their fault. He just hasn't been fitting into either group. And though it might risk giving him reminiscent feelings of being isolated at home, there's a key difference: no one here hates him. At least that he knows of.

Still, it feels pretty awkward. So he's made a point to minimize his presence, and hit the more populated areas at unusual hours. Later in the afternoon, when most are winding down for the evening, is when Drake frequents the gym. It's peaceful. Not that there isn't anyone else around at all, but it's sparse enough that no one seems to be paying anyone else any mind. Just focused on self-improvement. He's okay with that.

Currently dressed in silver shorts, white crosstrainers, and a white, overly-baggy tanktop, Drake is currently dashing along a treadmill in full sprint. Skin lightly aglisten in sweat, odds are this isn't the first thing he's hit tonight, and he's been at this one a while.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
Now that classes are over and homework has been dominated, Paige is making her way into the gym for her second round of full body workout and cardio. Wearing a black sportsbra and a pair of matching workout shorts along with black and pink highlighted sneakers, she looks ready to tackle whatever the gym has to offer. Sliding the gym bag off her shoulder, she lobs it to the side as she heads for the treadmills, rolling her arms back and forth at her sides to loosen the joints in her shoulders up.

As she hops on the treadmill next to Drake's, she taps along the screen and enters in a student body code to pull up her personal profile, then taps along the panel to set a timer and begin. As the ramp moves, she starts to jog, going right into a brisk pace while she ties her blonde hair back behind her with a scrunchie.

Glancing over towards the other, she gives an upwards jerk of her head in a nod. "Hey there, Drake." She calls over, a hint of Southern twang in her voice. "How long yah' been at it?"

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley hadn't really talked to Paige much. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Adorable accent he's likely never to mention. Classically pretty. But also a student. Therein lies the rift! So it's been mostly cordial, little opportunity or excuse to go beyond that.

But now she's running right alongside him. This could be a chance to talk beyond that simple politeness all but demanded by society. And Drake is instantly, all at once very aware of his inability to sound cool and aloof while running with heavier breaths.

"Uh," he starts, bright green gaze shifting to her, then ahead, then back again. "Hey, Paige," he says. Does he turn down the pace? Will that make him look lame? Does he sacrifice athletic credibility for the sake of being able to carry a conversation? The fact that she'll soon be in the same boat hasn't even occurred to him.

She asked him something! Focus!

"'Bout an hour," is the shortened, one-breath answer. Then he adds, "Not just running!"

And then a stupid question he'll immediately regret after: "You?" She just got there. Obviously.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Just got done with some computer programming work, got the rest of the night free. I always schedule a closing workout before I turn in for the night."

Paige says as the pace builds quicker and quicker for her on the ramp below. As always, she has to 'overdo' it, just a little bit. Her brother is an X-Man and there is no secret on campus that she is hot in his heels to join the superhero ranks upon graduation. She and Sam has always had a healthy sibling rivalry.

"What else you do in here?"

She lobs the question out to him curiously enough as she pumps her arms along with her legs. She's holding a pair of hot pink hand weights, and she has a pair strapped to her ankles as well. Even as she speaks, she is clearly hard focused on her task as she looks straight head into the mirrored wall so that she can watch her form. It also helps her at times glance over towards him without turning her head.

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley isn't using the mirror. He's glancing at her. He's never had a regimented workout system, so he isn't quite sure what's the proper form in anything, to be fair. And though he came here with superheroic intentions, nothing has actually happened to trek in that direction yet. This? This is Drake winging it, fueled by nothing but determination and a go-get'em attitude. The hard living he'd been dealing with prior to being taken in certainly helped, though.

"Whatever I can get my hands on until I can't!," Drake answers honestly. He has no system. He wouldn't know where to begin with workout strategizing. "Some days, I do the rowing thing. Some days, I do weights. Every day I do the 'mill, though!"

Footfalls thump along the conveyor belt, keeping steady rhythm and pace. To his credit, he has solid balance and spatial awareness. "You seem-" He pauses, his gaze dipping briefly to take in her appearance. The gaze lingers a second longer than he intended, but he catches himself and zips those eyes ahead to the mirror again. Hopefully she didn't notice. "-You seem like you know what you're doing!"

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Yeah. I know what I'm doing." Paige huffs out confidently as she continues to run, glancing at times to her Apple Watch on her wrist to take a look at her heartrate and calories currently burned. She continues to pump her arms as she runs now at a full on sprint. It's the type of run for your life sprint. All out. She does this for thirty seconds before it slows down and the ramp tilts upwards just a bit to add some difficulty and cause her knees to lift higher.

"If you need help, I can give you a plan. Diet is the big thing. I count all my calories. Each meal is weighed out based upon what workout routine I have mapped out for the day. Make sure to work on sixty-four ounces of water a day if you can get it down. Try to get twelve ounces down every two hours. It's a cup and a half. Get a water bottle that has the times marked on it so you know when to drink. Makes it easy."

After sixty seconds, the ramp lowers and picks up in speed again. By now, she has broken out into quite a sweat, but she shows no signs of slowing down.

"You want to work on one set of muscles each day, every day, but leave one day for cool down. Otherwise, your body will get thrown off. Don't overdo it." Like her. "Just know your limits and then gradually increase them from there."

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley blinks slowly at her as she goes full-blown personal trainer. In one ear, out the other for the most part. This information isn't going to be processed while he's running, beyond just being stunned by how dedicated she is to working out. It's a little intimidating, if he's being honest with himself. He never thought he'd be so scrutinized just working out.

His gaze dips again, this time deliberately looking over her physique. Not for the same appreciative reasons he had with that first stolen glance. This time, it's to try to gauge just how much of a workout-a-holic she is. "Training to be a bodybuilder?," he asks.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Nope." Paige pants out as she continues to run, giving a glance at the timer. Two minutes left. "Training ta' be an X-Man. Just like mah' brother. Sam. He goes by Cannonball. It's all ah' ever wanted to be since ah' was little. Ah' prayed and prayed ta' God to get powers so that I can be just like him. Now that I got them, I'll do anything and everything ta' make the team."

Reaching over, she slaps the finish button and slows down to a brisk jog until the ramp stops and she can step off it. Giving a few wiggles of her feet, she arches her back upwards to stretch her body, hooking her wrists together over her head. "And ah'm gonna do it. Ah'm one of the top students my senior year. Ah'm taking additional college courses. Ah' can program th' heck outta the Danger Room. Ah got great control over mah powers. Ah' just need a bit more time and ah'm in. Ah' know it."

There is a confident air about her as she starts to throw a few punches forward as shes bobs back and forth on her feet to keep her arms loose and limber.

"Scuse' me for ah' moment."

She reaches to her head and grabs a good hold of her hair, then gives a yank as there is a loud SHLURK noise. She peels the top of her head and skin clear off her, revealing a non sweaty Paige as she rips and tears the layer away, then starts to bundle it up in her hands as if it was nothing.

Drake Riley has posed:
Run, run, run, STUMBLE!

Just casually dropping X-Men! Drake isn't terribly in-the-know on that just yet. He's aware of their existence and that they're associated with the institute, but that's just about it. He hasn't been in the Danger Room yet, in fact. So when she mentions her intentions, his legs nearly pinwheel a-la Sonic the Hedgehog to make up for the stumble and fix his pace.

"Huh?," he asks. But she steps off the treadmill and exits his line of sight, so he focuses forward again. Ah, the mirror. She's just standing there for some reason. And grabbing.. her hair? What is she-

OH GOD

It's more than a stumble this time.

Drake's foot catches the rubber, one leg stacks the other, and he hits his hip on the base of the treadmill. The speed of the conveyor belt causes him to bounce, tumble, and in a short two seconds, wind up in a dazed heap on the floor in front of her.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Woah, careful!" Paige calls out as she spies his legs start to rattle, followed by him sliding off the treadmill in a pile. "Yah' okay?" She asks as she lobs her bundle of 'skin' to the side, leaning down to grab him by the arm to help him back up. She is no longer a sweaty mess, in fact, she looks as if she just came in through the doors earlier. She is still breathing heavily though.

"Sorry 'bout that. Ah' shoulda just did that in the other room. Ah'm used to being alone in here and it's just habit by now."

Drake Riley has posed:
A tangle of limbs and probably a bruise forming somewhere about his person, Drake is just staring up at her. From a slightly upside-down perspective. And yet, banging around on the treadmill is so much less important than trying to figure out what extremely unsubtle Invasion of the Bodysnatchers shenanigans are afoot. Hyperbolic, granted; he's sure it's her power. But what the actual heck.

His arm is taken, and Drake unfurls from his tumbleweed position, slowly finding his way to his feet. Those vivid emerald eyes haven't left her face. "That's.. a heck of a trick," he says finally. "Are you okay? You look okay, but are you okay? Isn't that-," he pauses to look at the wadded up skin. And hair? He cringes. "-you?"

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Yeah, that's me. I am an omni-morph. I rip mah skin off to have a new form underneath. Ah' don't even need to shower if ah' want to. Ah' just rip off the sweat and grime and got a clean me underneath." Paige wiggles her fingers up at him, then reaches to her other hand and gives it a hard tug as she peels the skin back to reveal a chunky rock like material beneath. Then to the other hand, she does the same, revealing a shiny black onyx surface. She holds up both of her hands to him.

"Ah'm starting ta' learn how t'do things like fire and acid and other various elements. Just takes more concentration. Ah' can enhance my strength and durability and change at will in the middle of combat. Steel, rock, plastic, rubber, glass, gold, plasma."

Drake Riley has posed:
"Gaah!"

It may seem like Drake is easily startled. But let's be clear: she is ripping her skin off in front of him. At least this time, he didn't wind up in a heap. Just a knee-jerk cringe back from it. And a wince for the one that follows!

"Doesn't that hurt!?," he balks.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Nope. Doesn't hurt ah' bit. When ah' use my powers, it's like yanking off a bed sheet."

Paige rips her hands again to reveal her normal ones again, then wads up the skin in her hands as she makes her way over to gather up the bundle on the ground. From there, she heads to a garbage can and stuffs it in without a care. "It dissolves in a few hours. Otherwise ah'd have a bunch of skin laying around."

As she turns to face him, her brows lift upwards. "What 'bout you? What can you do?"

Drake Riley has posed:
"Yeah.. well..," Drake says while he watches her collect her own skin, still mildly horrified. "Nothing for nothing, but your normal skin looks a lot better."

Was that a flirt? Kind'a!

When she returns, he exhales a gentle sigh. She looks pretty much the same as she first did. "What do they call ya? Reptile?" The question wasn't entirely sincere, and hopeully that's apparent from the small, hopeful smile blooming at the corner of his lips. "And nothing like that. Mine's a lot more direct..."

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"They call me, Husk. Like corn. Shucking the skin off ta' get to the good stuff under it. Skin was already taken by ah' friend of mine." Paige says as she heads back to the weight room, then presses a few buttons on a large panel to pull up a work out video. It's one of those P90X full core workout videos.

"Come on over here and work out with me. Today is upperbody for me. This one works the heck outta yah' abs." She says as she gives her flat stomach a firm tapping with her knuckles.

"Not everyone is a fan of mah' powers. Ah' know it's gross, but it's what God gave me so ah'm gonna work with it."

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley trails after her as bid, watching her with some mixture of amusement and fascination. The tap to her stomach directs his gaze to her abdominal region. He has those, too! He wasn't trying to develop them at the time, but - hard life, and subsequent exercise snuck in results while he wasn't looking. Still, the gaze lingers a moment before he snaps back to attention with what she says. Feeling slightly guilty, he shakes his head. "It's- it's cool, don't sweat it. Convenient, even. If I could suddenly not be sweaty, I totally would do it." Attention drawn to it, he runs an inner forearm against his brow just beneath his hairline. "Anyway, no matter how many layers ya rip off, you'll always have those eyes. So that's something." He flashes her another smile, then attempts to just emulate what she's doing.

And he's totally assuming she doesn't pop her eyeballs out. Then that'd make that remark a total whiff.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"I can change my eyes also. If ah' ever wanna be a brunette or have black eyes, ah' just do the same thing. Rip it right off. It's a weird kinda shapeshifting." Paige says as they start the dynamic stretching part, which is a lot of arm and shoudler rotations and bending at the sides with legs crossed. It's hard for a warm up. Designed to really tear at the limbs and get them hot.

"You checking me out or something?" She asks as she continues to catch sight of his lingering gaze that drifts her way here and there. A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. "Or are you scared of me? Ah' know that some people find me intimidating."

Drake Riley has posed:
"Nonono, I'm not scared of you!," Drake insists. And after a beat, he realizes that means he was checking her out. He clears his throat softly and glances ahead. "I mean, it's like you're a new person every fifteen seconds. Something different to see every time I glance over..," he covers. It's pretty flimsy, and he finds up stealing another glance towards her, despite. He might, /might/ be a sucker for a girl with abs.

"I mean, what, are ya checkin' /me/ out? Watching enough to see when I'm glancing?" It was intended to be a playful redirect, but he lacks the conviction to make it a convincing accusation. The obvious undertone? He was definitely checking her out.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Ah'm trained ta' be aware of mah surroundings at all times, including noticing when someone is glancing mah' way several times. That and the huge mirror wall in front of us. Ah can see whatcha doing." Paige says with a smirk upon her face as the stretching part ends, followed by now what appears to be a round of suicides. She has the video memorized, so she swiftly moves into the next routine without issue.

"If you ain't done these before, just watch me, then try and follow along. This will kill you. We got Burpees next, followed by plank push ups."

She moves swiftly, quietly counting off under her breath. Three. Two. One. Three. Two. One.

Drake Riley has posed:
Well. That's awkward. But- wait! "Okay, you can't gimme crap for looking at you, then tell me to watch you," he chides.

Despite this, he resigns himself to watch her at first, then start the motions. He, however, is keeping his gaze affixed forward after that, more than a little embarrassed for being called out. "I've done some of those," he mentions aside. And he's keeping up, at least.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"I didn't say I hated it. It's flattering ah' guess. You're still checking me out even after I ripped my face off in front of you. Most boys think ah'm a freakshow. That or they're scared of mah big brother." Paige says once she finishes the first set of suicides, pausing to stretch during the thirty second cool down before the Burpees will begin.

"Or maybe yer' just waiting for me to do something else weird, like ah'm a circus attraction." She bobs back and forth on her feet, then reaches down to take the ankle weights off.

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley glances aside to her at the mention that it's flattering. "I mean, I don't really know your big brother. And what, is he crazy protective?" Looking ahead again, persistently aware of where his eyes are at this point. He doesn't intend to come across as a weirdo or anything, or be further embarrassed.

"Besides that, I dunno, maybe you'll do something else that's freaky. But no. I mean, cards on the table, you're pretty and in great shape. And when ya pull.. pieces.. off, you're still under it, so, uh..." He scrunches his nose as the burpees proceed. He tries to get back on track between lunges. "...it might take some... getting used to... but it's like... whatever... you're not scarin' me off yet!"

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Yeah, mah' brother is kinda th' over protective type. He goes by Cannonball. Can rocket himself from thermodynamic thrusters that comes outta his body. He is invincible when he blasts. Can hit the side of a mountain and not feel it. He's also 'real' Southern."

Paige is honest and blunt to a fault, even in the middle of lunges, hops, stretches and repeats. "Ah'm the second oldest in my family, there's seven of us. Lots of little ones. Us Guthries got tons of mutants in mah' family. There's Jay, Jeb and Melody also. So, five of th' seven that we know of."

Drake Riley has posed:
"And the others probably will turn out to be when they get older, huh?," muses Drake. But the topic seems to have shifted from him checking her out to other things. "What do you mean 'real' Southern? I'm from California, so... that's like.. an alien planet to me."

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Yah'know. He's all about that hospitality. Respect, manners, opening doors, pulling out chairs, following th' word of God, family first, follow th' rules." Paige drawls out with a grin. "He got it from our Pa of course. He passed away when we was young unfortunately. Died in the coal mines. So, Ma has been raising us since. So, he's kinda been big brother and dad at th' same time."

As they move through the routines, each one is designed to stretch another part of the abs and chest and arms. It's brutal, but she weathers the storm easily enough, even if she is becoming a sweaty mess again.

"Yah' from California? That is cool. Ah' ain't been there before. Just here and Kentucky."

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley likely doesn't have the conditioning of Paige, but for someone who hasn't been undergoing the strict and regimented routines, he's managing quite well. The fact that he can't simply remove sweat like she can makes the difference between them seem much greater than it is, however.

"Yep!," he replies with some strain. "Do you.. like.. the beach? It's way.. way better.. on the West coast.. than here! But then.. I've not.. had a.. real New York.. Summer.. yet..!"

Paige Guthrie has posed:
Once the routine comes to an end, Paige taps it off, then leans over to grab her knees and catch her breath. Her upperbody is howling at her in frustration. Ow. Ow. Ow.

"I ain't been to a beach before, not even in New York. Ah' just got back from a skiing trip with the other students last week which was really fun. That was a first for me. Ah' grew up on a farm in the middle of no where. Small town. Not much excitement unless you count mixing it up with our neighbors who hated mutants."

"Ya' never did tell me what exactly your powers was."

Drake Riley has posed:
"Sure beats parents hating mutants...," Drake remarks.

After a few panting breaths, he straightens his posture with a light groan. The tanktop's shoulders are taken, and it's whisked off of his frame, no longer hiding the sleekly-toned upper-body beneath it. Wadding up the shirt, he dabs it at his face. "That was crazy.."

His arm drops to hang at his side again, finally letting his gaze return to her directly. "Oh. I..." His free hand lifts with an open palm upturned to the ceiling. In an instant, the vacant space over his palm comes alive in brilliant neon blue, a miniature ionic storm twisting and churning. Thin tendrils of lightning dance between his fingertips, a light buzzing sound filling the air. "...I do this... a lotta different stuff with it.."

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Oh, cool. You're a electro-kinetic." Paige says she watches his power stir within his hand. "You're a classic zapper type. Do they call you Taser?" She asks curiously as her brows lift upwards.

She heads over to her bag to unzip it, taking out a towel to wipe herself down, then throws a clean one his way as well. Fishing out her bottle of water, she uncaps it and takes a long sip, then digs out some protein bars to unwrap one. "Got a few more if you want one. I always make sure to recharge the protein after a workout. Helps blood oxygen and controls calories. All that good stuff that keeps a body healthy and happy. Though it seems like you're doing okay for yourself. Don't think you really need my help."

Drake Riley has posed:
The electricity snaps out of existence, and Drake seems to deflate a bit. "Yep. That's me. Not so special." He's starting to get used to being seen as ho-hum by others here. They don't know the extent of his abilities, and he's never insisted upon showing them. No need to reveal your full hand just to feel validated, right?

The raised hand waves it away faintly. "I'm good. I don't need anything right now." It's just more awkward, taking stuff from her. Or eating right now. She seems to not have those compunctions, though!

"Anyway, this?," he asks, glancing down at himself. His shoulders lift in a mild shrug. "Wish I could take credit. Sort'a happened when I wasn't paying attention."

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"I didn't say you weren't special. Zappy powers are great for offense and long range. You can create space for your tanky team members and your powers are great at disabling an enemy target if you do indeed super tase them. Forcing the muscles of your opponent to lock up is useful."

Paige says as she unwraps her bar and takes a hungry bite out of it. "My shape shifting, though totally gross, is also limited since I can't just 'think' a new form. I have to take an action to initiate it, mental thought, followed by physically tugging my skin off, so it puts me at a disadvantage if I need to quickly swap forms in a skirmish without proper cover or time to prepare and set up."

Her brows raise as she looks back at his chilsed frame, then up to him. "You just woke up one day looking like a beefcake?"

Drake Riley has posed:
"I do more than just zap things," posits Drake, his tone a little flat. "Anyway, it's fine, it's whatever. You have something unique. I do something Pikachu does. But who doesn't like Pikachu, right?"

His free hand lifts to run through his damp hair, pulling the bangs back from his face as she talks. "..Random question. Can other people just as easily tugs your skin off? Or is that something only you can do? I'm just wondering, cuz something like that might make dating /real/ awkward." He quickly adds, "Not that I was thinking of- I mean, anything like that- I mean-" Eyeshift.

She presented a topic change, and he's taking it.

"Nono, this? I was always a physical guy. But imagine living in a hoodie for several months. Out on the street. Live'n die by whether or not you can get your hustle on, outrunning police, fighting back mutant-haters, and stepping in when something's going down that normal humans can't handle. I admit I was kind'a.. gross.. when Rogue found me. So yeah, I guess you could say that. It didn't even occur to me until someone pointed it out." There's a beat, and he asks, "Did you just call me a beefcake?"

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Jolteon is way cooler." Paige says in regards to Poke'mon. "Well, what else can you do? Just feels like you're downplaying yourself for some reason. Super powers isn't a competition or something. My sister Melody can fly and my brother Jay has big large red wings that stick outta his back and mah other brother Jeb has electro powers also, so it's why ah'm kinda familiar with 'em."

"But, yes, other people can just yank mah skin off, though it's just mah normal skin under it for the most part unless ah' got distracted and sometimes ah've been something else. Ah' suppose it'd make dating real awkward." She rolls her eyes up at his antics. "Ah haven't tested th' theory out yet. Ah'm sure it'd be really uncomfortable if some boy was trying ta' get mah shirt off and they yank a layer of my stomach up with it. Kinda would be a first and last date situation ah'd imagine."

Yes, the topic change.

"So you're saying you just never took your hoodie off for the entire time and never knew you grew abs?" She says with a smirk. "That's a really long time to go without a shower. Yes, I think you're a beefcake. Physically." She gives a motion towards his body. "You're hot. Should be proud of it."

Drake Riley has posed:
"Uh..." That is, indeed, /precisely/ what Drake was saying. Add in towards the end a jaunt in the sewers, thanks to Rogue and a ninja turtle, and you have some epic scent problems. "...I clean up nicely. The real superpowers belong to the people who could stand to be around me during that time." Rogue? Mori? They were real troopers.

His hand sets over the back of his neck, a small smile edging the corner of his lips finally. "Well... thanks. That makes two of us. I mean, you're hot. Obviously." Why obviously? He lowers an eyebrow slightly at his own word choice. "I never really thought of myself that way, but if a girl like you is sayin' it..."

Actually, if a girl like her is saying it, take a shot. Right?

"Okay, so I have two questions. And they're not about Jolteons, though you're totally right, they're the cooler one. And I'll show ya a little more about my powers in a second. But first, two questions. Deal?"

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Obviously." Paige agrees with the assessment that she's hot. She is clearly body confident and smug enough for the whole school combined. She 'is' a Guthrie after all. She folds her arms over her chest once she finishes eating her protein bar, then shifts the weight to one leg as she leans against the wall.

"Two questions? Okay, sure. Shoot 'em at me."

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley cracks a faint grin at her obvious ego. In fairness, she has obviously worked for it. She gets to be vain. More right to it than him, who sort of wound up with his body by accident. Not that he isn't actively trying to refine and maintain it /now/, though.

"First, how easy is it for someone other than you to tear your skin? You mentioned ripping off a part of your stomach." He glances down at her bare midsection. "Are we talking paper, or is there real effort behind it?"

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"It has to be a pretty good tug. Dig your hands into it and give a yank sorta thing. Just tears away. Sorta like .. I dunno.. ripping wallpaper off." Paige says as she glances down at her stomach, giving herself a few knocks on the stomach. "When ah'm actively using mah powers, it's way easier to tear off because ah've already formed what ah' want underneathe."

She glances back up at him. "So, those were two questions." She says with a bit of amusement in her voice.

Drake Riley has posed:
While they both study Paige's admittedly fantastic midriff, Drake can't help but wonder how someone would 'dig in' at all. She's smooth! No flab to grab onto. And then he realizes this is an odd train of thought that under normal circumstances, he'd never have come up with. The Xavier Institute is a weird place.

She lures his gaze back up to meet hers; emeralds on sapphires. "I guess it was. Unless you're really curious what the other question was gonna be," he goades. Arms fold over his toned chest at that, head canting a bit.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
Grinning at him, Paige shrugs her shoulders upwards again in a good natured manner. "Go ahead, hit me with the next question. What'd you want to ask me?"

She pauses for a moment, then wrinkles her nose up in thought. "Are you gonna ask to take a yank of my skin or something to test this out?"

Drake Riley has posed:
"Mm'no, I like the skin where it is," Drake replies, glancing once again to the midriff. "Your skin's like a fire alarm. Pull in case of emergencies." His gaze lifts to her again with a more playful smile.

After a beat, he dips a shoulder in a shrug. Now that he's caught his breath and it isn't so difficult to talk, he's feeling a little better about all this. The fact that she called him hot, though, is the bigger push. "Wanna go out sometime? Movie, maybe?," he asks.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
There's a slow blink of Paige's eyes at the question, then squints at him for a long moment. She works the idea around in her head a bit, then reaches back to give her neck a rub with her fingers. "You want to go out to a movie?" She sways a bit side to side on her ankles, giving him another long glance over before she squints one eye shut.

Thinking. Thinking.

"Yeah. Sure. That'd be cool, we can do that, then maybe we can get dinner afterwards? No butter on the popcorn though. It's literally terrible. Actually, I can probably make some grilled chicken strips and wrap them up and sneak them in for a snack instead. Solid proteins without any fat or extra carbs. Will be way healthier."

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley watches her seem to mull it over, his head tilting faintly aside. A few sweat-slickened bangs waft further over his right eye in the process. The longer she takes to think about it, the more he feels a slow twisting on his insides. Did he misread the room? But that expression on her face is just /so/ cute, peering at him the way she is.

And then she accepts! His face brightens with a smile. "Dinner afterwards, for sure," he agrees. There's a small wince at the lack of buttered popcorn, but then, what was he expecting? She was talking about rationing water intake. Of /course/ she'd be anti-butter. Though the mention of sneaking in grilled chicken finally tips him over the edge, earning a laugh.

"Of all the things to be a rebel over," he teases. "You /sure/ you're not tryin' to be a bodybuilder?" He moves a hand forward to gently fistbump towards her midsection.

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Definitely not a body builder. Okay .. maybe I can do.. a cheat day.. " And then purge herself with more water and another five miles of running before she throws up. Paige relaxes a bit as his fist taps her stomach. Her muscles are all bunched up and tight from her routine.

"But chicken is really good for you. So is salmon. Lots and lots of salmon." She gives a sway of her arms back and forth to loosen them up, then flashes him a grin. "I'm going to hit the showers and cool off, then finish off some left over homework that was too easy to work on earlier. My number is in the school directory, just send me a text and let me know when you want to go. I'm down here every day at five in the morning, then again at eight if you need some motivation."

Drake Riley has posed:
"Ooh. At least let's go one day before you let me corrupt you," Drake teases. "Buttered popcorn is fine'n good, but you know I'm messing with you, right? I like that you're this disciplined about it. And I'm from /California/. If you're not a health-nut, odds are you're from out-of-town."

The teen bobs once on his feet. "I like chicken. We'll do something chicken-y after the movie." Wait, motivation? He perks an eyebrow at her, and that playful grin starts to make another appearance. "Motivation for what, exactly? To ask ya out? I'd say you already did a solid job there."

Of course he knows what she meant. The teasing couldn't be avoided, though.

"So, yeah. I'll text ya soon."

Paige Guthrie has posed:
"Motivation to keep working out and not let buttered popcorn get to your abs." Paige says as she smirks at him, then picks up her bag after stuffing her towel into it. "Stick to a routine, it's the best way. It's what turns you into a machine. Like Logan .. or Mister Rasputin .." She gives him a wave and heads out the doors, rocking her neck side to side to loosen the joints.