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Library, Sunday

This wasn't the gym.

Apollo had been on his way to the gymnasium, intent on pumping iron and keeping up his strict training regime so he could be in tip top shape for his next fight.

But this wasn't the gym.

This was a place filled with books and it was quiet and Apollo didn't see any heavy bags there.

"What is this trickery that I have encountered?" he boomed to the library at large. When no one answered, Apollo stalked around the aisles, hands held at the ready in case the Italian Stallion or the Sultan of Sting appeared out of nowhere to try and take him down.

When he found no one, he frowned, hands on his hips. "The King of Sting has to train today and he will train! He will train and you will like!"

So, with a music appearing out of nowhere, Apollo stacked chairs in identical intervals and started leaping over them. He found the heaviest books he could and started wailing away (while not actually damaging them) with his gloved hands.

"I'll get ya! I'll get ya good! You've got no chance!"

The music got louder and Apollo grabbed the highest shelves, pulling himself up in a bastardized version of a pull up. He zigzagged down aisles, taking cutting turns and punching the ends of shelves as he did.

"Can't no one beat me! I am immortal! I am the walking immortal!"

He climbed up on the library counter, hands held up and bouncing around like he'd just won the title and didn't look like a complete fool.

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Find him anytime during his training!

Ah-ha! A library! This was...almost the thing that Germany needed. What he really needed was to find Italy and a war room so that they could work on their plans to invade Poland, but since he couldn't find either of those things, a library could do nicely.

Germany gave the country on the desk a displeased look, sighed internally, and then demanded, "Your war records! Where are they?"

Edited 2009-02-08 16:37 (UTC)

"I don't have a clue!" Apollo shouted, glancing briefly over at the new arrival. "You my challenger? You hear to try and take the belt from Apollo Creed?"

"Belt?" Germany asked, astonished at the man's unhelpfulness. "What belt? The Communist Belt?"

"The heavyweight title, fool!" Apollo said, staring at the man. "The only belt that's important. The gold standard, the belt that makes a man a man! I don't know a Communist Belt. It sounds girly and Apollo Creed ain't no girl!"

"Ah-ha!" Now this was what Germany liked to hear. "You are right. Communism is girly, and Russia is nothing but a pansy little girl, who I will crush. I am glad you agree with me; that means you are an ally and I do not have to invade you. I have never heard of your country, so I can't imagine it being important enough to waste my time invading, not when I have Poland to deal with."

"If you invaded me, I'd give you a right and a left and an uppercut that would make you forgot your mother!" Apollo said, demonstrating each word with the punch of the same name. "I ain't never heard of a fighter called Poland. Must be a whiny baby, not up to my league!"

Germany decided that he kind of liked this Apollo Creed country. It had...spunk.

"It would take more than that to make me forget Mother Germany!" he said proudly. "But Poland is a whiny baby, in need of invasion. Very good land, strategic positioning. I must plan my attack!"

"Go for the body!" Apollo said, making several gut shot punches in the air. "That winds them. Take the energy out of their sails and then knock their teeth out!"

Apollo had no idea Poland wasn't a person. Too many punches to the head.

But Poland was a person. And a country.

It was complicated.

"Sound advice!" Germany said with a nod. "I shall keep it in mind, and, perhaps, when the invasion is successful, you will have a stop of honour in my future regime."

Germany was feeling magnanimous that morning.

"A day in my honor sounds fantastic!" Apollo said, twisting the words to the whim of his ego. "Good luck in your battle for the belt. Remember, if he has you on the ropes, go for the eyepoke. It's illegal but it'll let you catch your breath!"

To that, Germany just laughed. As if legality was ever a concern! He was Germany; he made the rules.

"Das ist gut," he decided, and began to stride toward the shelves. Apollo Creed might be a nation who knew war tactics, but he did not seem to know libraries. "If you see Italy around here somewhere, send him to me. He and I need to talk."

"If I see that Italian Stallion around you, I'm gonna scramble his brains worse than I scramble my eggs!"

He threw a punch in the air so hard that he almost fell off his feet.

"Uhhh..."

That was a bit more than what Germany would have liked to do to Italy, and he would hardly call the pathetic whelp a stallion, but he would let it pass. Apollo Creed seemed even more violent of a country than Germany lately, and that was enough to impress him into silence.

"Danke. Guten Morgen, ya?"

Apollo had no idea what those last words meant so all he said was, "Glad to help! Good luck in your title bout!"

Buffy walked in first thing in the morning. The bad thing was, she was really just getting in from the sheer wtf that had been last night. Still dressed in the same clothes, she started walking with purpose towards the stacks-

Till she noticed the guy. She was a little distracted.

"You're new," she noticed.

"That's right, that's right, I'm the New World Order!" Apollo said, dancing around, light as a butterfly. "And everyone will bow at my feet once I give 'em the right and the left and the master blaster uppercut!"

She nodded. She'd had a rough night. This, in some world, might be perfectly normal. Maybe even this world, who knew.

"If you eat anyone, I'm gonna kill you, and if you fall down, I'm gonna laugh. I'm just warning you."

"The only thing I eat is high protein shakes and raw meat!" Apollo shouted at her. And your challenge is laughable. I don't strike girls, I just marry them!"

He laughed, a booming sound in the confines of the library.

Buffy sighed heavily, shaking her head as she walked straight back to where the vampire books were, muttering, "Can't wait till this is over..."

"Tomorrow is tomorrow is the future and today is the day of your reckoning!" Apollo howled and went back to training.

Apollo is calorie counting! No fattening foods for him!

Back to training!

Indiana had the day off but came into the office to pick up a couple of archeology magazines when he saw... Well Apollo Creed training.

"Excuse me," he asked cautiously, "but what are you doing in my library?"

"Training, man!" Apollo said, stopping his push ups and bouncing to his feet. "Couldn't find the gym but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from keeping in shape! Gotta be ready for the next fight! Everybody's gunning for me!"

"Riiiiiiight," Indiana said shaking his head. "Listen, do you know where the library aide is?"

Indiana was a little baffled as to why Lee let this guy do his in the library.

"Man, I ain't got time to keep tabs on anyone but myself," Apollo said, doing some shadowboxing to keep his blood pumping. "Unless he wants to step in the ring with me. I'll take him apart! I'll make him cry like a little girl!"

Claire felt pulled to the library during her exploring. She didn't even know, it wasn't like nine hours in one hadn't been enough for, like, life. But it seemed to her like at least books might be normal.

Then she actually opened the doors, saw the training going on, and realized how very wrong she might be.

"Um. Hi."

"Hello!" Apollo boomed once he'd caught sight of the new arrival. "Have you come for an autograph from the heavyweight champion of the world?"

"I kind of wanted to use the phone," Claire confessed before she realized that somebody who called himself a boxing champion was probably the wrong person to piss off. "I mean, I'd kill for your autograph. Totally. Do you work out in libraries a lot?"

"I was looking for the gym and I just found myself here but it's working out for me!" Apollo bounced over to the counter and hurriedly signed a sheet of paper. "But Apollo Creed makes due with what he has! If I gotta work out here, I will and I will make it work!"

"You should dance," Claire suggested wisely as she looked around the library. "One time I had this bogus detention in a library and we got st-" -- somehow pot didn't seem the best thing to bring up -- "got stupid and started messing around dancing on the railings and stuff. And it's good exercise."

Edited 2009-02-08 18:41 (UTC)

"Ain't dancing for girls?" Apollo asked, fixing her with a look. "Apollo Creed don't dance! Apollo Creed causes pain! Apollo Creed makes people cry!"

"Why would you want to make people cry?" Claire asked, fixing him with a look right back. "That's just mean."

Granted, she'd made a couple girls cry that time. And that other time. And that time at Homecoming. But that was totally, totally different.

"Do you know who you talking to, girl?" Apollo asked. "I'm the King of Sting, the Master of Disaster, the heavyweight champion of the world! I make widows out of women and I orphan children!"

He'd never done that. He just talked big.

O-kaaaaay.

"I don't really follow boxing," Claire tried. "I'll, um, thanks for your autograph."

The school was full of defectives.

"That'll be worth a million dollars! You keep that! I'm the immortal! I'll be around forever!"

He shouted this, yes.

His voice was ringing in Claire'e ears as she made a very cool, very dignified, and not at all hasty, really, retreat from the library.

She leaned against the wall outside and sighed.

Full of defectives.

Oh god, I don't know. But, I'm around!

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Library, Sunday

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OOC