2011 06 08: Food For Thought

Searching database...
Mission report found.

Mission Name: Food For Thought
Date of Mission: June 8, 2011
Locale: Division locker room

Jez and Geoff have a short conversation eating habits, and Jez hatches a nefarious plot…

Geoff Jezebel

It must have been a long day of training. Jezebel sits on a bench in the locker room, eyes closed, head in her hands. She slowly runs her fingers through her hair. She's suited up in a Division tank top and pair of shorts, the Division issue sneakers laying off to the side. Her feet are firmly planted on the cold floor. She looks totally unsuspecting right now. If someone were so inclined, they could give her a Hell of a scare — not that Division agents scare easy.

Geoff isn't the type to go around deliberately spooking people. He gets that job done well enough with his dead-eyed stare. Any other such behavior could result in retaliation in kind, and he's not about to tangle with demolitions experts. So he comes through from the locker room, having changed into athletic gear, and spots Jezebel. "You okay?"

Jezebel doesn't start when Geoff comes in, simply raising her head and nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little worn out. I'm more out of shape in sparring than I'd thought." She looks like something's eating at her, however. She reaches to try to smooth down her hair before smiling at Geoff and winking at him. "How about you, sugar? Feelin' alright tonight or what? It must be about time for Division physicals. I'm seein' all the boys and girls around these parts."

"Physicals?" Geoff asks. "What do you do, run on a treadmill for fifteen minutes, or fight for your life against an army of robot ninjas?" His tone of voice implies that either option is about equally likely.

"I think it's actually a string of tests. First it starts out with the ninjas, and then at the end, you have to fight a kraken. Possibly Cthulhu." Jezebel stands up and starts to strip her clothes off in front of Geoff, figuring he's not going to care much. And she's quick about it. She reaches into her locker to get her civilian clothes in a punch. "What're you here to brush up on today?"

Geoff shrugs. "I come here like every day," he admits. "It's better than a regular gym. I can't be real at a regular gym." He doesn't ogle Jezebel or even dead-stare her, instead leaning a shoulder against a locker and staring off into space.

Jezebel laughs quietly. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that if someone were to display the level of ass kickery we do here at a regular gym, the police would be called. They'd probably think we were on high grade PCP or somethin'." She shimmies quickly into her plain white T and pair of jeans, putting the Division issue work out things into the locker. "I gotta say that goin' to the gym and workin' out on a regular basis has been one of the hardest parts of this life for me, but totally necessary. I eat too damned much…"

Geoff shrugs. "Well, I just tell them I am. Saves me the trouble. But I'm s'posed to be doing the stairmaster or something at the gym. My cover is not filled with the urge to kick ass." He looks Jezebel over with no particular expression. "You keep eating," he advises.

"Or Thighmaster." Jez supplants easily before she grins at him and takes her shoes from her locker, slipping on a pair of black and white checkered flats. "I'll keep eatin' as long as I can keep up with my work out regimen. But it's not all bad. Girl's gotta have a little meat on her bones, y'know. It's always been more appealin' to me. So, you really do drag down at a club, huh? Can I come see sometime?" Well, that was a rather rapid derailment.

"Yeah, I do," Geoff confirms. "Which means I hide my meat where I've got it and fake it where I don't. So if you don't think you look right, you can always take a page out of my book," he advises, smiling a little. "Sure, you can come down and see. I'll get you a free drink."

Hide his meat and… fake it where he doesn't… that sounds very dirty to Jezebel. She considers Geoff for a long moment. "Rock on, rock on." Is her final judgment on that subject. "What's the club called again? I'll have to stop by sometime this week. Maybe if Lucas and I ever get around to that 'date', I'll drag him down… under false pretenses, of course. Why else would he go?" Jez asks, grinning widely at Geoff.

It's probably meant to. "Barracuda," Geoff supplies. "Who the hell is Lucas?" he wonders, then guesses: "Lance? He promised he'd come anyway, actually." He smiles. "Guess he wants that free drink. Or else to tell me to my face I look bad in tights…"

"Yeah, I don't think he ever told me…" What his real name was. Or.. the name he prefers. "Right. Well, if he doesn't know that's where he's going, then he can't complain. And Hell, I'll buy him some booze on the house. That poor man'll never know what hit 'im." Jez grins and then glances to the door. "Well, Gigi. I think that I'm gonna go get my eat on. I'll see you soon, chickadee."

Geoff winks at Jezebel, though it doesn't warm up his eyes any. "You take care of yourselves and I'll keep an eye out for you at the club," he answers, and wanders off to go train.

Previous Log
« 2011 07 26: Lagniappe