Arthur was in a mood.

This wasn't much different from usual - Arthur had any number of moods that varied wildly in intensity and contents but could all, generally, be classified as moods.

However, this was, to use the local vernacular, a really fucking big one.

As was evident by the way he shoved open the door to his room. The way he'd woken up had not been ideal, and so far, it seemed to be sticking. At least he'd gotten his clothes to cover him well enough, and the island had granted him a body that could be called Amazonian and that matched his male swagger well enough, but still.

He was a girl. A bloody girl.

He shut the door behind him, then threw himself at the bed. He had no intention of leaving. Even if he'd sort of have to, for class. The ceiling received a vast smattering of interesting curses across several languages; then he gave up on that, falling silent.

He was not going to grope himself. No. He was, however, going to very, very reluctantly leave a voicemail, and then possibly threaten Morgana with death if she ever, ever mentioned this to father. Ever. Oh god.

[[ door closed, but post open ]]
Despite classes and everything of their ilk, Arthur still had entirely too much time on his hands most days. Especially now. When he wasn't out hunting or frustrating blessing the student body with his presence, he liked to spend it either in the salle, or here, making sure his body was trained down to the nines for anything. Even if there wasn't anything to fight right now.

It was also blissfully mindless. More things about this time should be as comforting as pounding your frustration into a bag - or channeling it into the lift of some weights.

Well, in theory it was always comforting, anyway. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers. (Maybe he should just find Morgana and start a fight; that was always good for his nerves)

Francine was all for blissfully mindless. Not that she was, currently. She'd just love to be, instead of seeing the entire gym through a haze of red -- or really just the part of the gym she was heading for. If she'd bothered to look around the whole place instead of just making a beeline for the full-size punching bags, she'd probably have spat out something incoherent, watched her vision go purple, turned on her heel and left.

As it was, though, she just tossed her bag at the nearest wall, kicked her shoes off, and started punching )

[OOC: To be continued in comments! *provides more popcorn* And, hell, open to OOC if anyone's got any. Contents NFB, but that they talked is OK for broadcast ]

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bitchprince

December 2020

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