Snatch Defeat from the Jaws of Victory

[nephero]

[Open!]

Blackmournes didn't lose.

Viktor slammed his fist into the punching bag, breath hissing out between clenched teeth even as he brought a knee up to follow. Again and again, he danced back and forth, unleashing wild fury until his knuckles stung and his arms shook in exhaustion.

Blackmournes didn't lose.

Dripping with sweat, Viktor scooped up his water bottle and took a swig, the lukewarm water tasting a lot like ash in his mouth. Which was a damn sight better than how that kiss had tasted. That stupid fucking kiss had been just the embarrassing cherry on top of the humiliation cake, all wrapped up in a box of knowing everyone had seen it.

Viktor scowled, took another swig of water, and fought back the urge to spit at the thought of cake. Or cookies. Or pudding. Really, anything to do with sugar or chocolate or cheesecake--

Ugh.

Ugh!

It had to have been all those damn sweets. It had to have been. How else did he lose a foot race that badly? He trained regularly, never lagged behind, and certainly never half assed physical activity.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he just hadn't been training enough. He'd been operating under the assumption that the usual regimen would suffice; but he didn't want to be usual. If he wanted to get anywhere, be anything, he needed to be beyond “usual”. He needed to be exceptional.

Blackmournes didn't lose.

Viktor stopped, set down his water bottle. Stretched already-sore muscles, and looked around the empty gym. At the very least he could expect to be left alone here. Everyone else was no doubt back to their own little rooms, having a good long laugh.

Even Landis. He'd expected his roommate to do something, not just sit there and keep recording, all the way down to when Soleas-- stupid fucking awful asshole Soleas-- had grabbed Viktor by the shoulders and pulled him into a searing kiss. Not for the first time, either. Viktor rubbed at the mouth with the back of his arm, and scowled.

The chat had, naturally, been no better. He might not have had to see their laughing faces, but the sentiment was still there. Even Landis, the one person who should have had his back!

The final straw had, of course, not had anything to do with the race at all. It was in the flippant attitude following it, how it was all just a stupid goddamn game to stupid goddamn children. Soleas, damn him a third time, just went right on along to pretend like losing was a good thing!

“Booty for days.” The prick. He'd nearly thrown his com across the room at that. Far more sensibly, he logged out of the Candidate chat and got as far from his room as possible. He didn't want to look at any of them right now.

Blood pressure rising by the second, Viktor sank low to stretch out his leg muscles, before taking off running.

He just had to train harder. That was the only option. If he expected to be anything in this life, anything worthwhile, he needed to train harder.

Blackmournes didn't lose.

Blackmournes weren't mediocre.

Blackmournes were nothing less than the absolute best. If Viktor wanted to be a part of this family, then he'd better start acting like it. No more goofing off. No more disciplinary infractions. No more cutesie little pizza parties. He would work, and study, and train, and work some more until he was either the best, or they finally gave him the mercy of a swift death.

And so he ran, ran until his lungs burned and he couldn't run anymore, dripping with sweat and fighting the urge to be sick all over the gym floors, hunched and cramping.

But even worse than that was the roiling sensation in his gut, the phantom shadow of fear rising up like bile-- if he was this winded this easily, he was worse than he thought. Hardly worthy of calling himself stage 3, let alone worthy of carrying his name.

He could see the look on Auntie’s face now. The stony stare, the lip curl, the rigidity in her shoulders as she turned her back on such a shameful display. Disgusting. Pathetic.

Worthless.

Sucking in a steadying breath, Viktor rose up once more, and pushed himself back into a jog.

He'd either be the best, or be dead. Those were the choices.

[Lion]

Cherry lips and golden curls. Maybe not curls. Sometimes it was straight hair, or other times it was a wavy mess, one the could tangle his fingers in and pull in real close for a great big old smoocherino. All of the smoocherinos. The ATC was so boring sometimes, daydreaming and visualizing a set of lips he could get a real good snogging from was just something else to pass the time.

Classes were good, as usual. Soleas might have seemed like a slacker, and maybe there was a great deal of truth to it. There was quiet determination to succeed, to do better simply because of that fact that this was a hell of a lot better than being where he was. No one wanted to be there. Under padded thumb just waiting to be squashed.

Yeah, yeah, he knew ultimately he'd be chosen by a dragon - if it came to that - or he'd be stuck in stage 5 forever. Between then and now, there'd be plenty of good times to be had. He saw no reason to lose that part of himself. He wasn't going to be left behind.

So maybe the gym wasn't the most ideal place to wind down for most. Soleas had always been something of a night owl. He never did enjoy turning in early. Even when it came time for lights out, he stayed up an extra hour studying, or reading, or dicking around on the Candidate chat. That was fun, maybe too fun sometimes.

Landis.  All that drama with Landis. He felt for the kid really. It wasn't like he had any family, but if you were going to whine about getting attention, and use that to throw a temper tantrum, he didn't have any more sympathy than necessary. Vikki did have a point. Sure, it helped to be more careful in the chat. Everyone read it. It was there for the rest of those prying eyes to see.

The world was rough. That was just the way things were.

There was still plenty of time before lights out, maybe get a few rounds in on the speed bag, work out those kinks. Hah, kinks. Now, that was something to look forward to after graduation.

And then he heard it, the angry running. What was angry running if you may ask? Well, my friend, it was the sound made by tryhards that couldn't keep up with you. Not that Soleas had any idea as to who it was on the other side of that door. Soleas carefully stepped through when it rose from it's frame and closed softly behind him with gentle decompression.

Oh...Viktor. Well, now that made a lot of sense. And Soleas felt a slight pang of guilt for the tryhard thought, not that he projected it or anything. "Hello," he said, waving his hand and shrugged out of his sweater. He didn't care to wear a shirt when training. It tended to get in the way. A quick shrug out of that, and he tossed it along with the sweater onto his backpack. "Hey Vikki. How's it hanging?" he said, grinning a little to the Stage 3 Candidate.

Oh boy did he look right bloody pissed.

[nephero]

Pissed was an absolute understatement.

Viktor had been pissed before, certainly. But the second he heard footsteps, the second he heard that “hey”, the second he turned to see Soleas there, Viktor went beyond ‘pissed’ and straight into absolutely infuriated.

Soleas had a lot of goddamn nerve just waltzing in like absolutely nothing happened-- and that nickname! Gods all but he hated that damn nickname, and even more so when it was Soleas saying it.

Dripping with sweat and flushed from effort, Viktor could barely manage a subtle curl of the lip to express his distaste at having his peace broken in this manner, this quickly. He was far too winded to manage a verbal reply, and so Viktor didn't bother, turning his back on Soleas as soon as the other Candidate decided that this was the exact moment to strip off his shirt.

Viktor really could not possibly win today. He made his way over to where he’d left his water bottle, and sucked down several greedy gulps, letting out a harsh breath after.

The stage 3 Candidate briefly considered his options. He could leave right now, save himself the agony of having to tolerate the older would-be Pilot. But that felt too much like running away. Admitting defeat. Cowardice.

Viktor scowled, his water bottle crunching loudly in his grip. No, no he would not be running away. Not today, not ever. He'd already lost so bad today, he didn't need the added humiliation of turning tail.

Grunting by way of reply, Viktor made his way back to the hanging heavy bag, figuring he could at least keep his focus there instead of having to pass by Soleas running.

Or worse… have Soleas pass him.

Viktor had had enough of that today. Best stick to beating the absolute shit out of the bag. Pretend it was a face that needed caving in. That was always therapeutic.

“What do you want.”

Dammit, he was supposed to be ignoring this asshole.

[Lion]

Ooooh okay, then.  It wasn't hard to detect the amount of sheer aggression that was resonating off of Viktor. Not that Soleas could blame him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see anyone else that he had been forced to make out with. That was if he was the sore loser type. Then again this was Viktor he was encountering here, and the way he snatched up that water bottle to take awful sips.

Hey, the gym was large. It wasn't like they couldn't share the space, and Soleas saw no reason either of them had to leave. Using it after hours let most of the equipment open for use and Soleas, after that run, could do with a little bit of heavy lifting himself. Those guns weren't going to get bigger on their own now were they.

"Just saying hi," Soleas shrugged. "Don't mind if I just get a few lifts in right? No? Good. The gym is huge. You won't even know I'm here!  Nice form by the way, twisting with your hip and honing in."  Soleas offered Viktor a wink and he put on his gloves meandered over to the squat rack. The barbell there was a heavy thick piece of steel, and beside it were the stacked weights to be slipped onto the ends of the bar.

Clips were provided, but Soleas tended to keep his balance enough to keep from tipping over.

He set the weight, something light to start with, and then would progress into a deeper squat as he went. The mirrored wall in front of him reflected the section of heavy bags where Viktor was punching away. Without looking at him, Soleas fixed the weight and swung underneath the bar, settling it on his shoulders.

"You keep punching like that you're going to take out your shoulder man," he commented idly. Soleas grunted, held his hands securely on the bar on either side of his head, lifted it and progressed a step back. With an even louder grunt, he dropped and held before coming back up. Just the one and he was already feeling it in the maximus that was his gluteus.

[nephero]

The first comment about his form, Viktor was prepared to let it slide. He was livid, but he at least understood that rising to the bait now would simply prolong their interaction beyond its present state.

And they'd interacted too much already.

Viktor chewed at his lip, licked away the salt of sweat just beneath it, and imagined that the bag he was striking had Soleas’ face all over it. A great hydra of a beast that Viktor was only too happy to slam his fist into.

But, of course, Soleas kept talking. It never just ended with him, did it? There was always something more to say, some repeat performance. In this case, one more critique. Soleas really liked to give those out-- about punching stances, about stretching, about kisses--

What was worse about it all was the fucker didn't even seem to care one way or the other! It was all a big joke, regardless. It just boiled Viktor’s blood, being treated so flippantly, made his veins itch in a way years of social training could not mitigate. And those damn grunts were just not helping!

Viktor stopped, hands on the bag to steady it before he snapped a glare over his shoulder.

“Do you have anything productive to say, or are you going to just snip at my heels until I'm in my grave?” Which was a far sight politer than what he’s wanted to say, but he was still heaving with exhaustion and really the effort seemed to be a bit much.

“Not that I'm over eager to take advice from someone who loses just so he can stare at ass.”

Not that Viktor was exactly one to talk at present. His lip might have been curled and his shoulders might have been tight in anger, but he lingered fairly heavily on every movement of bicep. There went the itch in Viktor's veins again-- no matter what he himself did, his muscles never gained much bulk. It was completely unfair, and something roiled in his gut to see Soleas handle the weights so easily.

[Lion]

Noise was just noise, sound made to fill dead air when nothing else interesting was going on. Soleas had been content to be silent, but he also wasn't sure he wanted to see someone throw out his shoulder just because he kept hitting that bag harder and harder and with waaaay too much force in that punch.

Did the guy really want to fuck up his joint that bad just out of spite? Hey, there were a few ways into the Infirmary that didn't require nearly as much effort. Soleas almost snorted midway through his squat and brought himself back up, form straight, and already feeling strain begin to build in his legs and ass.

That was the beauty of it.  Aaaand there Viktor finding some way to squash it yet again.

Soleas set the barbell back on the rack and leaned casually on it, tilting his head, and he was grinning. That stupid smirk that he just couldn't help in moments like this when others tried to compensate for their shortcomings with scathing retorts.

"I'm doing squats man, if you want an ass to stare at, there's always mine. Just sayin'. Form must follow function and all that," he snorted and went back to the rack, lifting the bar and settling it on his shoulders again. He dropped it and held once more, keeping steady and breathing out steadily. Another slow burn and settled the bar on the rack once again.

"Look, the way I see it, I didn't really lose much of anything. Not only did I get to watch a nice body run in front of me, I got a nice steamy kiss out of it - which was was vastly improved I might add, thank you for that - and I refuse to let that hold me back. Besides, Aspen earned that. So I'm more than happy that she had it. You, my friend, didn't even leave the starting line!"

Soleas lifted the squat bar again, dropping and keeping his ass out, steady. "Or did you intentionally stay behind to get a good look at my peaches?" he snickered, and almost dropping that weight.

[nephero]

Blood rushed upwards. Capillaries opened. Heat washed over skin, leaving it cherry red and all by nuclear in the sheer temperature radiating off of his skin. Viktor flushed, hard, caught somewhere between embarrassment and fury and a little side note of shame.

The shame, of course, stemmed from being so easily goaded into responses like these. Normally he was more than capable of keeping frigid, stone faced mildly disapproving. But with Soleas, all that self control went right out the window, reducing him to white hot emotional responses like some kind of ill mannered, untrained dog.

The fury and embarrassment, of course, came from everything else. The not so subtle truth of the matter-- he had lost the race, and lost badly, and the bitter tang of that knowledge came only second to the fact that Soleas had brought it up in the first place. But what had Viktor expected? Of course he'd never hear the end of this, that would be asking far too much from everyone involved. Last place in a foot race, that was his new claim to fame.

His stomach soured, and his mouth twisted in response, and he could have easily set himself on fire at that moment had his psionics leaned more towards pyrokinesis. Considering how red he was, shaking with barely contained anger, it seemed like he was two steps from immolation regardless.

And then Soleas opened his fat mouth, and genuinely insinuated that Viktor had done the whole thing on purpose, had fallen behind so badly just so he could ogle the older Candidate, and like that the blood drained from his face to be replaced with an ashy tone.

“I don't… lose… on purpose. I don't lose, period. I…” Where did his water go? The adrenaline was long gone and the exhaustion had set in, and the sour note in his stomach rapidly started to become a song.

The view HAD been tantalizing. And that was enough for a wave of horror to break over him. Viktor was utterly disgusted with himself: he had prided himself on his impeccable taste, and then this little (not so little) pile of shit just sauntered on up and backhanded the entire house of cards.

Viktor Blackmourne: delinquent, loser and poor judge. Stage 3 was rapidly becoming his own personal hell.

Viktor half considered storming right out of the gym. Maybe go drown himself in the showers. But now that he’d stopped moving, his legs protested starting up again, muscles twitching and trembling and screaming in exhaustion.

Thank all the gods for the hit bag, because otherwise he might not have remained upright at all. And the last thing he needed was to out and out faint. He'd really drown himself, then.

[Lion]

Viktor wanted to bite the bullet, well, that was fine with Soleas. It was his choice to remain here after all wasn't it? Damn, he really felt sorry for the guy. He was just a walking manifestation of misery. It was a good thing the guy wasn't a psychokinetic or those nightmares would be more than a little much for everyone.

After settling the bar on the rack, Soleas relinquished the weights from their hold and sighed, beads of sweat already running down his form. That was why he freed himself from the awful prison of his shirt. In the end, all it would do as stifle him. He was getting enough of that from the work out buddy hitting that heavy bag.

Soleas switched up the bar, moving it to the bottom rack where he could adjust the weights and settle the entire thing on the floor. He really didn't feel like fighting and this pointless bickering was only dragging down his vibe. Didn't Viktor have any sort of chill?

"Hey," he breathed out gently through flared nostrils. He didn't have to be close to Viktor to feel where his blood was rushing in this body. All over, but mostly his face. Riiiight. Soleas pushed out a little to him, trying to just tantalize that blood to move away from making Viktor so cherry red. It was very subtle, brief, and already Soleas hoped it made something of an improvement.

The last thing he needed was a Stage 3 having his head explode all over the gymnasium floor.

"Viktor, you ever try a deadlift man? Wanna try one?" Yeah, it was better to change the subject now before Blackmourne over there had a heart attack. Seventeen was way too young to die. And oh, god, the publicity alone would be another bloody nightmare.  Soleas didn't even want to imagine it.

[nephero]

For a moment, Viktor didn't understand what was being said to him. He was too busy focusing on keeping upright-- at least until his flush abated, reduced seemingly completely at random, his heart rate slowing with the shift in blood. It was a sudden calm, completely unexpected, and had he really been in any state to consider things he might have been suspicious of it all.

But he wasn't, and so he didn't. He shook his head slowly in response, taking in a deep breath now that he was no longer in danger of giving himself a stroke. He was still angry, of course, but the sudden physical limitations didn't allow for that anger to explode outwards.

Which perhaps explained his sudden ability to look at Soleas without spitting poison at him.

“I don't know how to do deadlifts.” He said, finally letting go of the hit bag now that he wasn't going to keel over. He briefly considered the older Candidate, before sighing and making his way over, twisting the cap off his water bottle and taking another long swig. Something to occupy his hands and at least feign like he wasn't on complete edge.

Because surprise of all surprises, Viktor was not… the best when it came to asking for help. Or accepting help. Or anything related to help.

“What do I do?” He asked, focusing on the weights as hard as he could, because up close and personal with a shirtless Soleas was not anything his psyche could handle at that precise moment.

[Lion]

Heh, he really didn't think it was going to work.  Soleas kept his read open on Viktor, studying the other candidate closely. Mainly his eyes and their almost vibrant green. If the sclera got any darker and that'd practically be glowing. They were gorgeous eyes and Soleas wondered if he knew that. Ah, well, now wasn't exactly the time to be spreading a compliment like that.

Blackmourne was only visualizing smashing his face with that heavy bag only moment's ago. Soleas stepped back and with the weights fairly light the lift shouldn't be too much.  And he was happy to distract the other Candidate long enough to keep from passing out. Because if Viktor hated losing in something as simple as a footrace he could only imagine the misery he had for someone else dragging him into the Infirmary.

Not to mention the threat of those punches being realized by proximity was something Soleas would much rather avoid.

"Okay, so it's pretty simple. First, you take your gloves off. And uhhh, here, just let me do something real quick.  Don't be alarmed."  Gods you could drown out Teinari rats with the amount of sweat dripping off Blackmourne. Soleas moved in front of him and slipped off the gloves.  And moved the tape from his own bag to wrap around the younger candidate's wrists. "The worst thing you can do is hurt yourself while trying to make yourself stronger. So there's that."

Soleas reached a little further into those blood vessels, opening them up a little to keep fresh oxygenated blood moving through Blackmourne's body. That shoulder should be fine. Yeah. He'd be fiiiiine.

"Okay so just watch me first, and then you try." Soleas moved before the barbell, keeping his legs forward and his back straight. "Feet slightly wider than your hips. Lift with your legs, back straight and lift. Like so." Soleas kept his grip steady just outside his legs, took in a deep breath, lifted the bar.  Keeping it level with his pelvis, his chest out and back slightly arched, he carefully put the bar down on the floor in its starting position, letting the bar roll down the shins of his joggers.

"You can do it. It's about... uhh, fifty, just a warm up. Then we can go heavier if you want."  Soleas offered him a smile, moving out of his way so that Viktor could take his place in front of the mirror.

[nephero]

At least Soleas had the decency to warn him before physical contact. It was a far sight better than Viktor’s first encounter with Matt (was it Matt? That was the name, right?), wherein Viktor had the sincere displeasure of sudden hands on his person. It just made his skin crawl in the worst ways-- so the whole prelude before the actual taping was more than a little appreciated.

The sensation was still… off. But it wasn't nearly so bloodcurdling, and Viktor simply flexed his fingers once the process was complete. He wasn't sure what the tape was meant to do, but at this point he wasn't willing to argue. Egos could only take so much bruising, and his was like a peach.

Ugh, no, getting as far away from peach related thoughts as possible.

The younger Candidate moved to the side, idly rubbing at his shoulder and the near-constant warmth there. That was another off sensation, but even Viktor had to admit it was a damn sight better than the tightness before. Had he actually pulled something? He hoped not, he really didn't want any ‘I told you so’s. It didn't feel like it had been pulled, though, and thus he had no reason to linger on the matter.

So he watched, perhaps a bit closer than was necessary, noting where Soleas’ hands settled and how his back curved. Just his back, and no lower, because like hell was he going to be caught doing that.

All in all, it seemed simple enough, and Viktor dropped his hand from his shoulder as he stepped over to the barbell.

It was simple. It should be simple. It was just lifting some weights, how hard could that be? And on a warm up setting no less.

It didn't stop Viktor from immediately tensing up, half expecting a string of critique from the word go.

He was actually a bit surprised when that wasn't immediately the case. He took a deep breath, mimicking what he'd observed, and lifted the weight up, mouth in a thin line as he held it before easing it back down again.

“Like that, instructor?” He said, one dark brow raised as he regarded the other Candidate. As far as verbal taunting went, though, it was exceptionally mild. Viktor blamed being tired.

[Blink]

Worried, that was how Aspen looked as she walked down the hall with earbuds in. After her most recent victory, she quickly slipped away to her room, hiding from the cheers and claps of everyone wanting to celebrate her win. I mean, it was a glorious win and she was happy to show them all just how fast she could actually run but it didn't take away from the constant sickness in the pit of her stomach.

Having slipped away so quickly she completely spaced out on grabbing her jacket, which was still conveniently laying on the floor in a crumpled mess by the track. So now she was on her way back, having let enough time pass that hopefully she wouldn't run into anyone she didn't want to. Aspen had been trying so hard to be more social, even going as far as making challenges and sharing one of her deepest secrets with Sol. Still, it was hard... hard to let any of them in beyond the candidate chat.

Even worse the look on Viktor's face when he lost still lingered. Yes, Aspen may have won, but the shame she could see made it almost not worth it. WIthout even meaning to she could tell she caused something to stir within him.

In an attempt to shrug off the constant sickness of ruining everyone's lives Aspen turned the volume up, drowning out everything around her just before she opened the door. Immediately her eyes honed in on the target in question and her stride picked up as she went for her jacket.

".... stop tryin'.... stop fightin'..." Aspen softly singing along as she reached down to pick the jacket up. "So over all of this bad luck, hearing one more keep your head up... is it ever going to chan-" Aspen paused....Dangit, she could never remember this part.

"Don't look at me like that, just like you understand. Don't try to pull me back..." Aspen stood back up, flinging the jacket over her shoulder as she turned on her heel to head back.

"Let me just give up, let me just le-" And she was frozen...

Had Viktor and Soleas been here the whole time!? Why was Soleas's shirt off!? And why was he squatting like that!? Or better question... WHY WAS VIKTOR LOOKING AT SOLEAS LIKE THAT!?

Yep, Aspen was gone in la la land by now. Hands slumped at her sides while the music still flowed through her ears. At least she hadn't fainted, nope just her entire body managed to shut down while she still stood on two feet.

"What did I just walk into" she thought... unable to even process anything else at that moment.

(OOC: Song Aspen was jamming along to: You Don't Know-Katelyn Tarver )

[Lion]

Soleas had to admit for someone that didn't know anything about lifting did remarkably well for the first time doing it. Of course actually demonstrating the technique so that he didn't feel completely out of the loop was always nice. That and it wasn't like he wanted Viktor to hurt himself, he seemed really good at doing that himself already.

In the most benign way possible of course. Soleas didn't really think he'd ever try to hurt himself, but it never hurt to err on the side of caution. He tilted his head and observed his form until he settled the weight back down. Easy enough. So maybe it was time to kick it up a notch.

"Instructor?" he snorted. And shot the cheesiest grin he possibly could to Viktor. "All right, Candidate! We're gonna lift until we can't life no more! That!  That there on the ground was for diaper babies. We're going a hundred. Full on!"

Soleas made a show of grunting in precise uber macho fashion, stacking on two more weights, and only briefly noting a shape in the doorway. Oh, what was this? They had an audience. "Aspen Brookes! You come in here this second, young lady. We're lifting and we can't possibly do it without you!  So get yourself on in here."

He snorted just a bit and winked at Viktor.  Just to sober. Just enough.

"Dude, you did really well. Nice. You'll be super buff in no time, you keep on like that. You already hit like a truck. I'm sure the face on that heavy bag you were imagining is all back and blue," he grinned and held his arms up over his head to flex, crossing his forearms, and holding his elbows close to his head and brandishing the cuts and curvatures therein.

"Ohmygoodness, Viktor, relax. I'm joking. But, however, Apsen, I am most certainly not joking about you getting over here. Now."

[nephero]

That.

That was perhaps the most spot-on impression of Drill Instructor Pilot Nocturnus Viktor had ever heard in his entire life. His eyes widened in surprise, before the corner of his mouth twitched hard and he had to turn his head away and pretend to wipe away sweat.

The grunts were almost too much, and Viktor folded his arms tight across his chest to keep himself from laughing. Because he was still angry, dammit! He shouldn't be laughing at Soleas’ antics at all.

Thankfully, Soleas’ attention shot across the room, and Viktor turned to see Aspen standing there, her eyes wide and looking for all the world like some kind of spooked bunny rabbit.

Which wasn't exactly any different from any other part of the day, but right now it seemed rather… like she had walked in on something private?

Even though Viktor's specialty was nowhere near hemokinesis, even he knew that all the colour had drained from his face. What had she… no. Nooo.

This was rather like one of those nightmares where you did something embarrassing like show up to drills in your underwear, and not for the first time that evening, Viktor considered drowning himself in the showers.

He jerked, partially in surprise, when he became suddenly aware that Soleas was there and talking to him, and it was only when the older Candidate flexed at him that he seemingly returned to earth, all rolling eyes and long-suffering snorts.

“Oh, my gods… if only it had been the real thing.” The barb was just as benign as the one before, however, and he made busy pulling himself together as it became clear Aspen had no choice but to join them.

“I'm not interested in a rematch, for the record,” he stated, calmer than he perhaps felt, already turning to regard the recently increased weights.

[Blink]

It was Soleas's voice that snapped Aspen back to reality. Any words before "...not joking about you getting over here. Now" hadn't registered above the music still playing idly in her ears. Reaching up she took out an earbud and let the cord rest on her shoulder.

"Okay maybe I was just reading into things. Even if Viktor looks like all the blood was just removed from his body....wait. Did Soleas just flex?"

Pulling her Com out Aspen halted the music, wrapping the earbuds around it before shoving it back into the confines of her pocket. "Stop being stupid Aspen, it's just Sol and Vik"

Now walking in their direction she smiled when Viktor mentioned a rematch. "Oh? Are you afraid? What was it you said in the chat?" By now she had managed to make her way next to them, leaning against a rack while she tapped a finger on her chin.

"Oh, that's right.... That you would be leaving me in your dust?"  Aspen winked, feeling kind of bad for rubbing it in his face like that.

"Anyways... what are you guys up to? I figured everyone had gone back to their rooms by now."

If this had been any other two candidates Aspen would have tucked tail and ran straight back to her room the moment she was spotted. However, Viktor and Soleas had somehow managed to get past the wall Aspen always surrounded herself with. Spend a night leaned against a locked door with anyone and that may happen, even more so when you spend the next night in a sensory deprivation tank about to piss your pants.

All in all, Aspen had learned that despite Soleas's cringy attitude and Viktors cold exterior that the two of them were still human. Both of them just managed to hold a better front than she did. Eventually, she would figure out that was the case for most of the candidates but for now... these two were enough to try and process on their own.

[Lion]

It seemed that whatever it was that made Viktor steaming, raging on the verge of murder could in fact slowly be abated. Viktor was stuck up, an asshole, and the pressure to perform, the need to succeed or face dire consequences Soleas could understand only too well. Briefly, very briefly, he considered the younger candidate from the corner of his eyes, regarded those glow-gems he had for eyes, and that thick black hair.

Soleas was smiling, but he was always smiling. Viktor's rage had been momentarily quelled, and he saw the little smiles that were forming in the corners of those green eyes. They almost - heaven forbid - seemed happy. What, pray tell, brought Viktor such pleasure, however momentary? Soleas was determined to find out.

On the one hand there were still plenty of those that would hear the name Blackmourne and instantly know how to react. They were either really intimidated or thoroughly impressed. Soleas had never even heard of the Blackmourne name before meeting Viktor. The guy had been pretty quick to lay on the fact that he smelt something better than the rest of them, what with the way his nose had been so far up in the air, it may as well have been full circle and had his head shoved up his ass.

First impressions aside, getting Viktor to settle down and warm up was a feat in itself. And watching that transformation left him somewhat in awe. Cookies seemed to the trick. A lot. Which was weird. But neat. Whatever the case was, Soleas didn't believe in lost causes.

"Well, everyone else might be content to let themselves sleep away in their wee cots in their wee rooms and settle in for the evening, but everyone knows that a true champion never rests. They're always working harder, better, faster. To be the best, you have to work for it. Blood sweat and tears and more blood. Ain't that right, bud?"

Soleas let Viktor have a crack at the weights again. He seemed to be good at it.

"Just wanted to get a few rounds in before I turn in. What about you Apsen? You come here just to admire a pair of gods in the flesh?" he snorted and cracked his knuckles.  He was tempted to reach out and pull the earbud from her shoulder to listen to what she was listening to before she wrapped it up and put it away. "Or did you want to just rub salt in my wounds? Hey... oh shit, Viktor, don't lift with your back so much. Ohmygoodness!"

Soleas leaned forward and put his hand down at the small of the other Candidate's back, and gently pushed in to arch it. "Disaster averted!" And he retracted his hand. "And no cooties. Five second rule."