[Tawny Vokes]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-o"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud3"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-title"]BLIND MY EYES, BOY TOO BRIGHT

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-subtitle"]wanna know am i really made of this, am i really made of that?

Making time to go to the gym had grown increasingly more difficult lately. With her new studio to fix up... with Noah... and with fitting her usual chores and responsibilities between them, her bi-weekly visits had grown more scattered. First, they'd become weekly visits, shorter and less enthusiastic than they'd once been. Then they'd become a brief visit every couple of weeks, only long enough to justify the walk from her apartment to the building. Before, she'd frequented the gym most often in the afternoons or early evenings, between work and dinner, but now she came at night or in the wee hours of the morning when she just couldn't sleep. It was quieter. There were less people, hardly any chatting, and she imagined most of the those that she shared the rooms with worked uncommon work hours. [break][break]

This gym visit was one of those spurred by an inability to sleep. She'd tossed and turned in her bed for hours it seemed, before giving up with an exaggerated groan, throwing back her blankets, and forcing herself to get dressed. It was a little past 2am and the rooms were sparsely populated. She'd been there for almost an hour already, had gone through her usual sets, and was ready to wind down with a final half-hour jog on the treadmill. [break][break]

She stepped on, set her water bottle in the holder, and started the machine at a casual pace. Then she tucked in her earbuds, picked out a fitting playlist, dismissed some unread text messages, and set her phone aside. When the first song ended and the next began, she dialed up the speed. With the next song, picked up the pace again. Over and over, until she was at a brisk half-sprint and was beginning to feel the threat of sweat across her brow. [break][break]

In front of the treadmills was a mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. When a man walked in, her gaze flitted to his reflection and she swallowed. Jesus fucking Christ. He was big. Tall and lean, with the sheen of sweat already glistening off his skin. Where had he been? Tucked in some other part of the gym for sure — she would have noticed him. In much the same way that she was noticing him now. She glanced away and released the grip she had on the bars of the treadmill; just so the sensors on the underside couldn't read her heart rate. She wasn't proud of the small hike to its already-high number.

a little messed up, do you feel it?[break]a little bit of this and a little bit of that

Tag: Mason Lancaster[break]
Let me know if you need more than this! Or if you desire any changes at all.

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[Mason Lancaster]

We make it so damn easy, we get bored
Why can't anybody see, what's good for you is good for me?

---

Sleep was proving to be more elusive than Mason would like tonight. Between being a light sleeper and all of the recent family drama he’d been dealing with that was weighing heavy on his thoughts, he was finding himself just laying in bed just staring up at the ceiling. Max was a warm lump against his leg, snoring softly every so often. The sound of the tree outside his bedroom window, scraping its branches lightly against the glass with each gentle breeze, was grating against his nerves.

Finally, Mason gave up on sleep. He got out of bed, ruffling Max’s head as the dog made an irritated grumble from being disturbed. Quickly, Max relaxed and went back to sleep, used to his human getting out of bed in the middle of the night. Mason pulled on sweatpants and a tank top, and grabbed his wallet, headphones, phone, and keys. He tossed all but his keys into the already packed gym bag. If he couldn’t sleep, he was going to work his emotions out against a punching bag at the gym, and attempt to wear himself out.

He thought about using his equipment at home, but the main flaw with that plan would be the potential to wake his mother. Not that she would complain, but he would feel guilty regardless. So, instead of taking that risk, he got in his car and drove to the 24 hour gym he had a membership with.

Mason started his normal circuit when he arrived at the gym. He pushed his earbuds in, his playlist designed to outlast his routine. He liked how empty the gym was this time of night. Most people would be either already in bed asleep, or on their way there. He began with weights, warming up before going to the room with punch bags set up.

This was the most therapeutic part of Mason’s workout. Each strike against the bag took some of his anger and frustration away. There was no real challenge in it for Mason, he easily predicted the movements, where to hit the bag for optimal contact, where the next swing should be. Even so, it was an effective way to work out his emotions. He could hit the bag over and over. It wouldn’t bleed or cry. It had no bones that would snap on impact, it couldn’t bruise. His own hands would wear out before the bag did.

Mason lost track of time. One hit blended into the next. He was dripping with sweat, focused on hitting in time to the beat of the songs playing in his headphones. Then, one song ended and the silence spread on. His playlist had ended. He looked at the time. He’d been here for nearly two hours already. He felt calmer than he had when he walked in, so it had been an effective trip. Now, he just had the cool down to go - a jog on the treadmill. He pulled his water bottle from his bag and chugged some of the cool liquid. He wiped clean the equipment he’d been using, then grabbed his bag and walked into the next room, the room with the treadmills, stationary bikes, ellipticals, and various other equipment.

He spotted someone else at the treadmills already. He didn’t want to bother her, so he selected a machine at the other end of the row. He set his bag down in front of his chosen treadmill, and fished his phone out of his pocket. He needed another playlist. This time, he chose a random hard rock mix that came up on his recommended section.

---

Tawny Vokes
Feel free to move him. Let me know for changes or if you need more.

[Tawny Vokes]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-o"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud3"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-title"]BLIND MY EYES, BOY TOO BRIGHT

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-subtitle"]wanna know am i really made of this, am i really made of that?

The man chose a treadmill on the other end of the room — almost as if he were trying to be as far away from her as possible — and Tawny nodded once, her gaze lifting to study herself in the mirror. That was probably for the best, really. It was late (very late), she couldn't sleep, her brain had been too quiet lately, and her heart was currently hammering hot, coursing blood through her — the combination of these many things almost always equaled bad decisions and she promised herself months ago that she'd be good.[break][break]

She blinked at her reflection, mouth bunching to one side of her face as she thought. Had she made any promises, though? Not really. In fact, she'd done quite the opposite. But still, she'd managed so far to curb herself when her thoughts ran wild. To curl her fingers back in her palm when someone familiar reached for her. To ignore the enticing calls and texts that came in the night from people who'd grown to expect her answer. She'd resisted the muted, deeply-rooted urge to flirt, to entertain passes, and to ultimately seek someone else's bed just to decidedly make Noah's less significant. [break][break]

But Noah didn't know that. Nor did he expect it from her, or she from him, as they'd agreed. And... well, what was looking, anyway?[break][break]

Without turning her head, Tawny let her gaze skip down the wall. Quirked a brow and reached for that curiosity inside her — wondering if it would respond — as she subtly watched the man scroll through his phone, presumably choosing some music for his cooldown. Sweat dripped from his hair... clung to the slope of his jaw... darkened his tanktop, making it cling where it might not have before. [break][break]

Tawny swallowed, eyes swiveling forward then shuttering closed. She shouldn't have looked. The guy was attractive. And slicked. With strong arms and great legs. And she was imaginative (and weak) enough to quickly think how he might look coming out of the shower later this morning, towel about his waist, damp and ready to fall in bed. Why hadn't Noah called her tonight? Why hadn't she called him when she couldn't sleep? She could kick herself now and sucked her lip between her teeth. [break][break]

Caught up in her own spin-cycle of thoughts, Tawny teetered a bit sidelong and the side of a shoe caught the edge of the treadmill. Eyes snapping open, she stumbled and overcorrected, coming awkwardly down on the side of her other foot. The resulting wobble was too fast and the pace of the treadmill too unforgiving to be easily righted. One leg shot back from under her and she knew she was fucked. She tried to catch the handrails as she went down and managed a fleeting grasp, but doing so only ensured she landed hard on her hip instead of her knees. The belt — very promptly and very ungracefully — flung her backward, tearing the rail from her grip after a mere second of her hanging there. It upended her on the cold, marble floor with little remorse, the end of the machine catching the back of her head before she could roll to the side or think to lift it. One earbud clattered across the floor while the other remained lodged in her ear; the soft beats of her dream pop music taunting now in their mellowness.[break][break]

"Oh," she groaned, rolling sidelong and lifting her head, just catching a glimpse of the man across the room before she dropped it again with a tight pinch to her eyes. That had been real smooth. Maybe the universe had decided she couldn't be trusted to her own devices. That she required some sort of divine intervention — in the form of massive embarrassment — to keep her eye from wandering and her fingers itching to reach toward bad habits. Perhaps it was punishment for looking at all? It seemed a bit dramatic, but she wouldn't fault it.

a little messed up, do you feel it?[break]a little bit of this and a little bit of that

Tag: Mason Lancaster[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes! And sowwy, we straight up OBJECTIFYING ya boi~

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[Mason Lancaster]

We make it so damn easy, we get bored
Why can't anybody see, what's good for you is good for me?

---

Mason noticed the woman at the other end of the row. She kept glancing in his direction, but only through the mirror, as if to hide what she was doing. Was she wary of him? He didn’t see anyone else in the room, so he assumed she was just keeping track of his movements. It wasn’t uncommon for women to get harassed while working out, and Mason thought it was just disgusting. Giving women just a modicum of respect wasn’t hard, but apparently for some guys it was impossible.

Once his phone was back in his pocket and the lyrics to a Linkin Park song were playing in his earbuds, Mason got onto the treadmill. He wasn’t going for speed tonight. He was already starting to feel tired from how long he’d been beating up the punching bag. It had helped him, though.

He didn’t feel the weight of conflict between his sister and mother as heavily as it had been when he walked into the gym. As much as he wanted to fix the issue between them, he was giving it up. It would be up to the two of them, and he was going to stay out of it. At least, that’s what he told himself now. He had bigger problems with Miranda, anyway. He was trying to convince her to go back into rehab, but she was resistant to the idea. She didn’t want help, she didn’t want to stop drinking.

At least Maddie was talking to him again. Mason was glad that she’d gotten over being mad at him. He knew she would eventually, but sometimes it took her months to come around when she was determined to hold a grudge against him. He worried about her more than he worried about their mother. Maddie was alone, still living in the East End. They’d grown up there, and he’d been the kind of riffraff that he was worried about now.

Sure, she could hold her own, but she shouldn’t have to. He also worried about what would happen to her if the hunters, the Sector, or even Blackstorm got a whiff of her abilities. He always told her to be careful, told her there were people who targeted gifted, he wasn’t sure how much she took his warnings to heart. It wasn’t like he gave her an in depth explanation. He knew she’d want to help, she’d want to get involved somehow, and that’s exactly what he didn’t want.

As he was getting lost in his thoughts, he noticed the quick movements from the woman at the other end. He turned his head and saw her fall from the treadmill, already turning his machine off and hopping down, shoving his earbuds into his pocket. Had he been closer, he would have caught her before her head hit the ground.

”Oh shit. You okay?” Mason scooped up the earbud that had bounced away from the woman on his way. ”You probably shouldn’t move yet.” He gave a quick once over, looking for anything that looked obviously deformed or broken, then looked back at her face.

”Sorry, I’m not being a creep, I promise. I’m an EMT. Does anything feel broken, or numb? Do you feel dizzy or light headed?” It didn’t immediately look like she’d broken anything, but she’d seemed to hit her head pretty hard, so he was concerned about a possible concussion.

”I’m Mason, by the way.” He gave his name, and held out his pointer finger. ”Can you follow my finger with your eyes, without moving your head?’

---

Tawny Vokes
Mason is so oblivious I’m dying. Let me know for changes.

[Tawny Vokes]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-o"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud3"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-title"]BLIND MY EYES, BOY TOO BRIGHT

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-subtitle"]wanna know am i really made of this, am i really made of that?

The man was next to her in what felt like only a brief moment. Tawny simply laid there, mouth tucking further with the mortified want to just sink and disappear into the cold, marble floor. Her eyes pinched tighter. Maybe she could pretend she was deaf and blind... that she didn't speak English... perhaps just ignore him completely as she leaped up and sprinted from the room. He was concerned, it seemed, and said he was an EMT — oh, of course he was. Blue-collar and noble. Almost reluctantly, Tawny laxed the rigid set to her face and let her eyes slowly crack. [break][break]

He was leaned over her in a way that was not particularly helpful to the imaginings that lent entirely to her tumble. She could have scoffed at herself as her gaze immediately lingered on the drop of sweat that clung to his nose and she decidedly unfocused her eyes before she could note the bright blue of his own. Her fingers tucked into her palms and she sighed through her nose. "Nothing feels broken... or numb, no," she answered simply, sounding very much like a woman defeated as she rolled her ankles experimentally. "Pride's a little bruised but... I'll live... probably," the corner of her lip tugged half-heartedly and she sucked in a deep breath as he gave his name and held out a finger, instructing her to follow it. When he began moving his hand through the air, she tracked it obediently. [break][break]

"I think I'm good, just..." she paused, letting her eyes flutter back closed as she unfurled her fists and lifted a hand between them to smother across her face. "Feeling dumb and clumsy. It's late and—" she dropped her hand, eyes snapping open and flickering to him with an abrupt resolve. "You're distracting. Really, this is kinda your fault." She levered forward, intending to sit up and scooch a bit back, and then winced at the resulting throb in her head. Face twisting, she rubbed at the back of her skull and inwardly grimaced at the feel of warmth that met her fingertips. [break][break]

Ugh, great. [break][break]

She withdrew her touch to study the bright bit of scarlet that clung to her fingertips and then turned her palm to him. She lifted her brow, mouth quirking as she wriggled her fingers. "Again, your fault." Although her voice was still touched by the deadpan severity that accompanied the dejectedness of her embarrassment, she made an effort to keep her tone blithe — enough so that it was obvious she was joking and not sincerely accusing.

a little messed up, do you feel it?[break]a little bit of this and a little bit of that

Tag: Mason Lancaster[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

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[Mason Lancaster]

We make it so damn easy, we get bored
Why can't anybody see, what's good for you is good for me?

---

It was a relief to hear that she didn’t feel like anything was broken and nothing was numb. Mason watched her eyes carefully, looking for any signs that the head trauma had caused more damage than it immediately seemed. His brow knit together out of concern at first, but she tracked his finger as he moved it perfectly, so it seemed like a concussion was unlikely, and he let a grin tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes, it certainly seems like you’ll survive the bruised ego.” He moved slightly back to give the woman space as she started to move, still watching closely in case she started feeling pain as she became ambulatory.

Mason was taken off guard when she said it was his fault. He’d been trying not to crowd her, trying not to make her feel uncomfortable. Was just his presence enough to make her wary? It seemed like she was joking, but was that just a practiced way to deflect if he got upset by her candor? He wasn’t entirely sure.

“I distracted you? I mean, that really isn’t dumb. So sorry, I was trying to make sure I didn’t crowd you or anything.” Mason looked at the wet red blood on her fingers. “Here, let me grab a towel to help with the bleeding.”

He got to his feet and started looking for a clean, dry towel. It didn’t take long to locate one, and he made his way back to her with haste. “You should put pressure on that to help stop the bleeding.” Mason held out the towel. “It’s probably not going to feel great, but it should help.”

---

Tawny Vokes
Dudebro is dumb af. Let me know for changes or if you need more.

[Tawny Vokes]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-o"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud3"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-title"]BLIND MY EYES, BOY TOO BRIGHT

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-subtitle"]wanna know am i really made of this, am i really made of that?

Tawny watched him startle just a bit at her accusation, looking taken off-guard. She waited a moment longer for the surprise to transform into something more amused (and perhaps even self-pleased) as he pieced together what she meant. She half-expected him to smile smugly, lips curling in a feline way as he dropped his gaze with a muted chuckle. 'You think I'm distracting?' he would press after a moment, brow quirked quizzically as he looked back up at her (maybe even nonchalantly flexed an arm). She'd give a light roll of her eyes, lips pulled slyly. [break][break]

But no, Mason seemed genuinely apologetic. And Tawny wasn't sure if she found that endearing or tiresome. She didn't typically feel the desire to spell things out for anyone. If they didn't get it, they didn't get it. Swing and a miss. "No need to apologize," she spoke, changing her tune just a bit and letting the playful accusation slip from her tone while she gave a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders. "Not your fault they made the whole room one big mirror. Or that I can't think and run at the same time." He stood and stepped off to find her a towel and she watched his back for a generous moment, mouth tucking at one corner with faint disappointment. Then she stood as well, clearing her face as Mason returned and she accepted the clean cloth he offered. [break][break]

"Thanks," she said, smiling only briefly; just an obligatory flicker of her lips. She pressed the towel to her skull as he suggested while she moved to the side of her treadmill and clicked the machine off. It powered down with a dying whirr and she glanced about the floor. "Hey, did you pick up my other earbud?"

a little messed up, do you feel it?[break]a little bit of this and a little bit of that

Tag: Mason Lancaster[break]
This is short, so lemme know if you need more!

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[Mason Lancaster]

We make it so damn easy, we get bored
Why can't anybody see, what's good for you is good for me?

---

Mason couldn’t help the feeling that he was missing something, perhaps something that should be glaringly obvious to anyone else. But then she continued on, mentioning the wall of mirror and her own lack of possessing enough coordination to think and run at the same time. Obviously, he was just overthinking the whole thing. He’d just rattled her, distracted her from her workout, and she lost her focus then lost her footing. Weirder things happened on a daily basis.

Once she was up again, she seemed to be moving around just fine. No real damage done. He was trying to suppress his over cautious, overbearing need to warn her to be careful. She was a grown woman, she didn’t need him telling her what to do, and he knew from experience that it wouldn’t go over well if his advice was unwanted.

“Oh, yes, I did.” Mason glanced around when she asked about her earbud. He had scooped it up on the way to check on her, but then set it down somewhere and forgot. It didn’t take long before he spotted it on the edge of a separate treadmill nearby and picked it up to hand it back to her. “Sorry, meant to hand it back before but then I forgot.”

Mason ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face and glancing over the woman again. “You sure you’re okay?” He just couldn’t help himself.

---

Tawny Vokes
Sorry for the horrendous wait on this. Let me know if you need more to work work, I know it's pretty short.

[Tawny Vokes]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-o"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud3"]

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-title"]BLIND MY EYES, BOY TOO BRIGHT

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-subtitle"]wanna know am i really made of this, am i really made of that?

Mason answered that he'd picked up her earbud and Tawny watched as he glanced about, quickly relocated it, and then offered it to her. She dropped her gaze to his outstretched hand and worked a bit of her cheek between her teeth. When she reached out and took it, she allowed the touch of her fingertips in the center of his palm to tug her (just barely) into the pull of his memories; to minutes before, when he'd watched her fall. [break][break]

And a second later, she pulled her hand back and smiled in thanks, giving no indication that she'd seen anything — or that she wasn't inwardly having a bit of an exasperated meltdown at the absolute buffoonery that had been her awkward, clumsy self. No wonder the guy was giving zero feedback or even any acknowledgment of her flirting. He was being polite. [break][break]

She turned to return her earbud to its case on her treadmill tray and glanced over her shoulder as Mason ran a hand through his hair and asked again if she was alright. Her mouth tucked into a line and she tried — she really did — to not note the tension in his arm, the hike of his shirt... the pull in his side... and ugh. She was such a mess, tonight. A predatory mess. [break][break]

She turned away and chuckled, more at herself than at his insistence, then grabbed the spray-bottle on the side of her machine and began spraying it down. "Yeah, I'm sure," she reassured, glancing at him again. [break][break]

Maybe she could... do a little, innocuous rearranging. Make herself look... not great... but a little less what it had been — gangly, flailing limbs and hapless floundering. Maybe she could make it so he'd only looked after she'd fallen. Hadn't witnessed her silly, laughable attempt at hanging on. And... then the next time she ran into him — and maybe she could orchestrate that as well (but probably not, if these early mornings were his thing) — he'd be a little forgiving and/or forgetful of the whole ordeal. [break][break]

"Besides, what's a little head wound for those gains, am I right?" Tawny brightened her eyes with some intentional enthusiasm and let a grin split her face — momentarily trying to emulate the unfathomable energy that gym-fanatics always seemed to have (and want to share with others). Her voice was a bit reedy with the unfamiliarity of the words, as if she'd never said them before and didn't know exactly how to deliver them — which she didn't. "Ayy, up top!" She lifted her hand in the air between them, phishing for a high-five. [break][break]

Inwardly, she winced. Yikes. Maybe she'd have to manipulate that from his memory as well. Or just start going to a different gym entirely.

a little messed up, do you feel it?[break]a little bit of this and a little bit of that

Tag: Mason Lancaster [break]
My brain is in a semi-permanent limbo, so sorry if this is sdkjfhakdshf. Give me a nudge for any changes!

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[Mason Lancaster]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","MASONsimple_lyrics"]We make it so damn easy, we get bored[break]
Why can't anybody see, what's good for you is good for me?[break]

---

[attr="class","MASONsimple"]


The woman insisted she was fine. Mason wasn’t so sure, but maybe he was just being overcautious. He had a tendency to worry a bit too much (or a lot too much, if you asked his sister). He didn’t know this woman though, and had no reason to believe that she wasn’t capable of determining for herself if she was okay or not. [break][break]

When she joked about gains her voice and expression were a bit too over the top, too dramatically energetic sounding. Perhaps overcompensating. He was a little surprised by the suddenness of the energetic shift, but then again maybe she was always just kind of weird. [break][break]

“I mean head trauma is generally frowned upon, but whatever works, I guess.” Mason looked at her outstretched hand, and let out a clipped laugh. “You call that up high?” He smirked. “That’s almost down low.” He held his hand out, slightly higher than hers. “This is almost up high.” [break][break]

She’d probably heard that before, but he was making an effort to ease the awkwardness of the situation. Maybe humor would work?[break][break]

Though, he probably should have thought about what kind of humor before he opened his doofy mouth. He could hear Maddie in the back of his mind, yelling about being called short and how people tended to point it out more frequently than necessary. It was very much a joke that he would have made at her expense as well, since she was around the same height as this woman. But maybe he shouldn’t have made a height related joke at her expense. [break][break]

“Sorry, that was supposed to be funny, not demeaning or anything.” He apologized, hoping he hadn't made her upset on top of, whatever that had been that he’d done before. Nervous? Apprehensive? He still wasn’t exactly sure. “If I did that to my sister she would have probably kicked me in the shins.” [break][break]

He dropped his hand back down to his side. “I’m Mason.” He offered his name, feeling like he was a socially awkward weirdo. He should not be let out in public on his own, he had no idea how to interact with the general public like a normal person. He couldn't wait to hear how badly Tomas and Maddie were going to mock him for being so awkward. [break]

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[attr="class","MASONsimple_Notes"]Tawny Vokes [break]
As always, lemme know for changes.

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[Tawny Vokes]

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[attr="class","post-littlecloud-title"]BLIND MY EYES, BOY TOO BRIGHT

[attr="class","post-littlecloud-subtitle"]wanna know am i really made of this, am i really made of that?

Tawny watched him study her held-aloft hand, self-directed cringe creeping deeper and deeper with each half-second that passed. She was a single moment away from snatching it back, pursing her lips in defeat, and spinning around to leave — from cutting her losses and bolting without another word — when he laughed. His mouth pulled in a smirk and he lifted his hand higher, taking a crack at her height. [break][break]

Amusement lanced slowly through her, smothering a bit of her worry, and she screwed up her mouth with a leisurely nod before smacking her lips and half-lidding her eyes. "Yeah, okay," she deadpanned, making her tone sound reluctantly amused. Truthfully, she was enormously relieved. "Laugh it up, mister." She curled her fingers into her palm and dropped her hand, abruptly deciding to abandon any and every design to manipulate his memory. [break][break]

She was a lost cause at this point.[break][break]

She supposed she would just have to let the remembering of how foolish she'd been and how dumb she'd looked keep her awake an hour (or two, or four) for a couple of nights. And then again every three or so years, whenever she randomly thought of it. No big deal. [break][break]

Silently consigning herself to the lifelong torment of occasionally-remembered embarrassment, she lifted a brow and let her next words sound with some warning tease. "If you've got a shin-kicker for a sister, one would think you'd consider your well-being before making height jokes." She turned away and finished wiping down her machine, then started across the room to drop both the towel held to her head and the one she'd used to clean into the proper receptacle. She shot him a look over her shoulder, a grin quirking at her lips even as she tried to maintain the expression of being decidedly unimpressed. "Or that you'd at least have come up with better ones by now." [break][break]

She returned to her treadmill, took up her headphones, then grabbed her water bottle and settled her weight with an elbow against the machine. "I'm Tawny," she supposed offering her own name was an expected courtesy and she followed it up with an exaggerated sigh. "I would say I'm not usually this scattered and distracted and weird, but..." she scrunched her nose. "Maybe I'd be lying to you." Her shoulders rose in a shrug and she sucked in a breath, lifting her brow and widening her eyes. "So... yeah, I should probably go home... you know, sleep it off, I guess... and if we ever run into each other again, maybe you can pretend this whole... embarrassing thing... didn't happen?" Her voice rose hopefully at the end and she grinned, making it purposely wide and desperate.

a little messed up, do you feel it?[break]a little bit of this and a little bit of that

Tag: Mason Lancaster [break]
When i read in your post — "then again maybe she was always just kind of weird", — on God, I threw my head back and Tawny beat the shit out of me while I laughed and laughed and laughed (true story)~ Anyway, give me a nudge for any changes! I'm YOLOing today, so~

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[Mason Lancaster]

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[attr="class","MASONsimple_lyrics"]We make it so damn easy, we get bored[break]
Why can't anybody see, what's good for you is good for me?[break]

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He wasn’t completely sure if he had offended or amused the woman, but she seemed to be playing along, at the very least. He smirked when she told him to laugh it up and dropped her hand. Playing along? Surprisingly, yes. Indulging him being an idiot? Unsurprisingly, not so much. [break][break]

Mason had to agree with her, nodding and giving a short chuckle when she said he should think better of it, or at least have better material for short jokes. She wasn’t wrong, he should have better jokes by now. But he tended to have the advantage with his sister and could dodge most anything she could come at him with. “You have a point there, but maybe I’m just a bit of a slow learner.” He shrugged and tried (but failed) to keep the smirk from tugging at the corn of his lips. He thought he was funny, even if no one else did. [break][break]

Except when he really made her mad, or caught her on a bad day. The times when she actually thought about it and negated his gifts before she threw something at him or punched at his arm. Not that she still didn’t hurt herself more than she actually did anything to him, but she would feel better and gloat that she actually got him. [break][break]

She was clearly still uncomfortable, though Mason wasn’t as sure that it was all on him when she said that she was usually distracted, scattered, weird. She went on, saying she was going to go home and sleep it off. “Actually that’s-” He stopped himself, trying hard not to sound like a know-it-all, or like he was trying to tell her what to do. After all, it didn’t really seem like she had a risk of concussion, and she wasn’t showing any symptoms of one. [break][break]

But he couldn’t help worrying anyhow. [break][break]

“Sorry, it’s hard to shut off the side of my brain that wants to give medical advice.” He shook his head at himself. “Of course it never happened.” He smirked, feeling a little better about her condition since she was more worried about embarrassment than pain or anything else at this point. That seemed like a good sign. [break][break]

Mason walked over to start wiping down his own equipment. There was little point in finishing the routine now, he’d already cooled down enough. [break]

---

[attr="class","MASONsimple_Notes"]Tawny Vokes [break]
God, it’s so short, but I had everything but the last paragraph finished and completely forgot where I was going with this. Let me know if you need more, or any changes.

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