a podium built on generations bleeding

Ángel Fàbregas i Reus · 06-21-2012, 02:49 PM

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OOC here.

Word Count → 000

His recent trip into the city had proven fruitful after all his doubts about the concrete wasteland. He'd found a pair of metal weights, with removable metal rings at both ends to adjust the mass needed. With a small amount of cleaning they'd been ready for use immediately, but of course he hadn't done that immediately either. Angel had only returned on the back of Allez late into the night and therefore went to bed as soon as he'd re stabled the pale horse and undressed himself. That night the Catalan male had slept fairly well and risen early to work out using the pair of weights.

He stretched himself to rid the sleep, holding his muscled arms into the air. His six pack rippled as he lifted the weight in his non dominant arm, making it seem easy. Though he was careful to make sure his left was as strong as his right. The Catalan male had a lot of spare time on his hands after all.

A knock at the door surprised himself, making him look up towards the door and set down the weight. It was Emmanuelle. She smelled different of course, but Angel didn't notice it after all he'd never had any prior experience, save for with Amy. And he hadn't spent much time with her thankfully. By time he reached the door she'd scampered off to the sound of their new Aquila's voice. He'd heard about the switch from Ana and so the meeting was not unexpected.

He followed Emmanuelle to the crowd and stood beside her, keeping his eyes to the front. 'What?'

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