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Post by KENNEDY LYNN BEAUFORT on Apr 28, 2013 1:14:41 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; background-image: url(http://x4ashes4ashes.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/arrow-muse-of-fire-b-oliver-queen-thea-queencest-4.jpg?w=450); height: 250px; width: 400px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px;] looking through a fogged mirror, |
Kennedy did not have a lot of friends. She kept mostly to herself. This was something that has been said about her time and time again. The truth of the matter, however, was that she actually had a lot more friends than she thought she did. Sure, she wouldn't go telling them all her secrets or ask them to come over, but they were friends nonetheless. After all, when it really came down to it, she wasn't completely surrounded by stereotypical people. There were many people that the brunette could tolerate to the point where she would even keep them around just as an acquaintance. She wasn't as outcast as she could make herself out to be.
Take Garrett Marchel for example. While she didn't go spouting off emotions on the boy--and though he was not as close of a friend as Hunter was--he was definitely considered a friend. They hung out in the gym, ate food, and went their separate ways. The younger Beaufort had a niche for hanging out with guys, but it wasn't in the manner that her elder sister had. Kenny considered herself to be one of the boys, somebody who wasn't to be underestimate simply because of her smaller physique and feminine build. In a way, hanging out with Garrett helped her keep up her facade that she could always just be one of the guys.
So that afternoon, she put on her athletic gear and jogged down to the gym. He was supposed to meet her there later, but she might as well get warmed up and stretched out before he showed up. Plus, she wanted her punching bag this time. She wanted to work on a few of her kicks and the other bags didn't have the same sort of oomph that hers had.
Kennedy turned her iPod up as she walked in the door. She was dressed for the occasion: athletic tank top and shorts to match, a sweater unzipped and falling off one of her shoulders, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She took to her usual corner, ignoring the other people who were scattered about the gym. It was slightly busy today, but that was typical. It was one of the best places to go and work out. The Beaufort set to her warm-ups, awaiting the arrival of her training partner.
tags, garrett . outfit, click . kids, mgmt notes, this actually takes place at the family's gym
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Post by GARRETT EDWARD MARCHEL on Apr 28, 2013 12:04:30 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:140px; width: 275px; height: 230px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:15px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:5px; padding-right:5px] Garrett was never sure exactly what to make of Kennedy. She wasn’t a big sharer, but then again neither was he. He liked to keep to the impersonal, the superficial. Too much thought, well it could be said to corrupt the mind. It was certainly a belief Garrett held. So he stuck with simplicity, let it surround his senses and dictate his words. It had done just that when he’d struck up conversation with Kennedy earlier that year. It continued to do so now, as Garrett walked down the sidewalk – hands in pockets. He wore basketball shorts, a well-fitting wife-beater. He’d thrown a loose sweatshirt over, though he knew he’d be discarding it soon enough. He’d casually slung a bag over one arm, into which he’d stuffed his gloves, wraps and a water bottle. He’d learned, in his short acquaintance with Kennedy, to always come prepared. She was sort of a work-out fanatic, constantly training herself. And Garrett never minded being her sparring partner. He got practice himself – and more importantly, free food. He grinned at the thought, cracking his knuckles. Any qualms he’d once had about hitting a girl were long gone. He knew the moment he stepped into the ring, it was game on.
He approached the massive Beaufort estate. At first, the mere size of the home had shocked him, but he’d eventually adjusted. It dwarfed his small family home, but that was the power of money. And truth be told, he didn’t much care. He had everything he needed at his own home. He walked up to the front door, not bothering to knock. He’d come by enough times that he didn’t have to do the tedious polite routine of waiting for someone to show him in. He twisted the knob and slipped inside. He expertly navigated his way down towards the gym, where he knew Kennedy would doubtless be waiting for him. No matter how early he arrived, she always gave off this sense that she had been waiting for him. He came in, dropping his bag and shrugging off his sweatshirt with a wide charming Garrett-grin. “Hope you’ve got something nice for me, I skipped breakfast in anticipation of this feast.” He immediately began putting on his wraps, winding them expertly around his fingers and wrists. A moment later he strapped on his gloves. Standing before Kennedy, in his full garb, he cut an impressive figure.
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Post by KENNEDY LYNN BEAUFORT on Apr 30, 2013 0:12:59 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; background-image: url(http://x4ashes4ashes.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/arrow-muse-of-fire-b-oliver-queen-thea-queencest-4.jpg?w=450); height: 250px; width: 400px; border-radius: 200px 200px 0px 0px;] looking through a fogged mirror, |
Kennedy, at times, was the type of person to take advantage of a situation. Maybe that was why Garrett felt he needed to always be prepared. It wouldn't be far beyond her reach to take on the fellow Thunder before he had a chance to work out. While work-out fanatic was an overstatement, Kennedy did take a sort of pride in her physique. She liked being able to, if she couldn't get a car at the time, jog to where she needed too without getting all hot and sweaty. It really put a damper on things when you had to get somewhere quick but then had to change and get ready again as soon as your arrived.
The gym was large, possibly comparable to Gold's Gym in the United States. For the small population it run remarkably well, which was good for the family. While they were rich off of inheritance, pretty much living off of the interest, it was good to see the numbers in the bank continue to rise. Though this didn't stop Kennedy from being almost a normal teenager. Kennedy wasn't one of the prissy rich kids. She enjoyed the "toys" that came with the status, but otherwise you would not be able to tell that she hailed from a wealthy family.
It wasn't too much later when Garrett arrived, dropping off his stuff. She struck the bag with a smooth roundhouse before turning to address the voice behind her. Of course, the first comment out of his mouth was about food. She smirked. "Don't worry. Janene cooked up a storm this morning." Unlike a lot of rich families, they did not have a hired service for food. Both of the Beaufort parents enjoyed using their fancy utilities. However, the occasional maid would be called in if there simply was not time for them to fix up the housing themselves. She watched as he wrapped up his hands and slipped on his gloves, her gaze even.
"Do you want me to box with you today?" Kenny queried, leaning back on the punching bag. While the Beaufort specialized in various methods of self-defense, usually Tae Kwon Do and Karate, she had been trying to take more of an interest on offensive combat and mixed martial arts. While the Marchel boy definitely had more brute force, she felt she was quicker and more lithe than her five eleven opponent. She crossed her arms and waited patiently for her response, her gaze almost challenging. Whether they fought or not was not particularly important to her, but it would definitely spark some conversation between the two instead of the silence that could occur while they were simply training.
tags, garrett . outfit, click . kids, mgmt notes, this actually takes place at the family's gym
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Post by GARRETT EDWARD MARCHEL on Apr 30, 2013 13:18:18 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:140px; width: 275px; height: 230px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:15px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:5px; padding-right:5px] As if prompted by the food-related conversation, Garrett’s stomach growled. He’d scarfed down a banana, for the necessary protein, that morning. But a mere piece of fruit was nowhere near enough to hold him over. He began doing his stretches. It was tedious work. He would have preferred to hop immediately into the ring. But he knew the dangers of not warming up. He went through his normal cycle of stretching, of cardiac work-out. He twisted around, stretching. A part of him was still waking up. He had never exactly been a morning person. He far preferred to sleep in, do his chores and necessary activities as the whim struck him. Jeremy and Zachary were much more motivated than he tended to be. But he had shown up, and he was pretty proud of that. He shot Kennedy a wide lopsided grin, one most women absolutely adored. “Janene knows I love eggs and pancakes.” He’d traded words often enough with Janene to have built a friendly sort of acquaintance. And she found it amusing how much he ate. One time she’d even insisted that she was determined to fatten him up, simply to see if it could be done. “I can almost smell it now.” His face got a sort of dreamy expression. Though of course the food would be back at the house, he really could almost smell the feast that awaited him.
He hopped over into the ring, joining Kennedy. He’d finally finished the necessary warm-ups. He lounged against the ropes, his arms crossed casually over his chest. “Lady’s choice. Why don’t you surprise me?” Unlike Kennedy, Garrett was only trained in boxing. He hadn’t quite formed as much of a passion for karate or any of those other self-defense arts. He found boxing to be something that focused him. Though he had trained in kickboxing as well. And no matter what Kennedy threw at him, he’d box right back. And fighting Kennedy was always interesting. Usually in boxing, people were sorted by weight class. And she, no questions asked, was a light-weight. He was a little bulkier. She had speed, while he had brute mass. Though he was agile. It always made their little sparring sessions interesting. Most of the time they were evenly matched. They were about even on matches won. Though he had to admit that when she started doing all that weird stuff where she flipped around and shit always got him confused. He slipped in his mouth-guard, gesturing towards a rack of protective gear. “We going body shots or anything goes?” While he didn’t pull his punches simply because of her size or gender, he never fought to really hurt her or anything. Gear was just a precaution.
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