fandomhigh | Campsite Gym, Wednesday night

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Campsite Gym, Wednesday night

Tyler? Pedaling about as fast as the exercise bike will go. It's training, yo.

And every few minutes, he looks to see if anyone is about to join him.

He's not sure how he wants the sparring match to turn out, although not beating English Peter into a coma would be a good step for him.

[OOC: Open to all. Also, this should be in

fandomhighdorms, but I messed up. My apologies.]

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For Tyler & Peter Pevensie.

For everyone.

Peter wanders into the gym right at the appointed time. Seeing Tyler already there, he waves. "Evening, Tyler. How's the afternoon been?"

"Hey, Peter. The library talks to people," Tyler deadpanned, hopping off the bike. "And I get to work there for the next couple months."

"What about you?"

[OOC: Oooh, good point. Fixed, I think.]

"Well, hopefully it won't say anything too disturbing before you're done," Peter replied. "And I've just been reading. Still trying to catch up on the past 60 years."

Tyler shrugged. "I'm not too fond of voices in my head, so I hope it just stays quiet," he said. "And when you get to Vietnam in your book? America loses. It sucks."

"I'm still dealing with the UK losing her Empire, but since Kennedy was just assassinated, I think that Vietnam's coming up next. Just what I want to read about. Another good war." Peter rolled his eyes.

Bel? Not in a good mood. He stalked into the gym and claimed the punching bag and began punishing it with his fists.

"God is always on our side," Tyler said. "If you believe the books."

He stepped over to the mats. "So the rules I've usually used are no shirt, no shoes, go as long as you need to, quit when someone says quit. That good for you?"

"It's the definition of 'our' that will get you," Peter said.

"That works for me," Peter said, taking off his shirt and shoes and throwing them to the side.

"That's where people usually disagree," Tyler said, also tossing his shirt and shoes aside.

He paced to the center of the mat and assumed a boxing stance. "Ready when you are."

Peter moved to the center of the mat as well and held out his hands to touch the gloves they weren't wearing.

He then moved into position, bouncing slightly from foot to foot.

Alanna had been planning to do something very similar to that. "We need more than one punching bag here."

Tyler also moved into position.

He hesitated for a moment, reminding himself Peter had been a friend.

"One, two, three," he counted off.

Then he punched out at Peter's side.

"Apparently so," Bel said. "Unless you wanna go a few rounds with the demon."

Alanna pondered this for a second. "If you promise not to break my right wrist. Because five times is seriously enough."

Peter dodged quickly out of the way of the Tyler's punch and threw a jab-cross combination at Tyler's upper shoulder and chest.

Cameron wandered in, strangely enough he also had a 35mm camera and a banana with him. "Yo, Stickbugs and non-stickbugs," he greeted.

The punch hit Tyler shoulder as he danced out of range, and he enjoyed the familiar rush of hitting and being hit.

He retaliated with a uppercut jab to Peter's chin, putting a bit mroe force behind the blow.

"I can promise I won't try to," Bel said.

Alanna took off her sword and put a sleeping Faithful on top of it. "Good enough for me. You need to stretch?"

Bel nodded in greeting to Cam as he continued to pummel the poor punching bag.

"I'm warmed up already," Bel said, stretching his neck.

Peter wasn't there yet, so Tyler could pause in his pedaling to wave to Cam. "Yo back," he said. "What's up?"

Cameron raised an eyebrow. "Rough day?"

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Campsite Gym, Wednesday night

Sparring!

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