another bag of bricks. (HOW TO BREATHE)

Title: another bag of bricks.
Description: Tag: Cat / Layla

MALCOLM VITALE - May 6, 2012 12:41 AM (GMT)

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Malcolm wasn't someone who liked to beef himself up to look intimidating, or anything like that. He didn't mind looking decent and being in shape, but they were primary motivators for him to go work out. He went because his life was completely and utterly stressful.
<p>He had a boss who was nearly impossible to work for. He was starting to take basic cases - it was a lot of responsibility, for a student. And he was supposed to be finishing classes, getting ready to take his finals. It would overwhelm someone who didn't have a place to let off stress. For Malcolm, working out helped. It gave him a place to deposit his stress and put effort into something mindlessly. It was cheaper and probably better in the long run than drugs.
<p>He started off slow on the stair climber, watching the ticker on the tv screen flash the news of the day. It was still early in the day, but CNN was already shrieking out the tragedies of the day. He cursed himself for forgetting his headphone as he climbed a staircase leading nowhere, watching some story about a car bombing in France. Tragic, that.
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LAYLA HOUSE - May 9, 2012 04:49 PM (GMT)

Layla Dominika House had a day off that she had scheduled off to be with her husband. Unfortunately he ended up having to go into work for a few hours, so she was stuck there, trying to figure out what to do. As she went over her options, she had the radio on, listening to a song by Jessie J that she never heard before.She sighed and turned off the radio before she stood up and went to her bedroom. It was then that her eyes set on some advertisement for a fitness center and she picked it up. It wasn't like she needed exercise since she was the pe teacher at the high school. However, since she took the day off and got a substitute teacher, she might as well go work out somewhere.

That decided, Layla threw on grey capris and a red tank top. It didn't take her long to pull her hair back in a ponytail and get her running shoes on. Then she grabbed her keys, sent a loving text to her husband and jogged out to her car. She got in quickly and put the address into her GPS system. Following the directions to the place had been snappy, It also looked like a pretty decent building and when she went inside, she glanced around. "Perfect." Yes, she was enthusiastic, but that was in her nature to be. She paid to get in and then went to the back.

It was nice to know that this place wasn't completely empty. There was a man working out that seemed a little upset over something. Her eyes flashed to the tv and she saw the tragedies CNN was already covering. She shook her head before getting on the treadmill at a jog. Her mind wandered back when she got hit by a car while riding a bike. She'd been terrified, though she had tried hard not to show it. But a car bombing? That was so much worse. "I feel for the families," Layla spoke out, not afraid at all of looking like a moron.

MALCOLM VITALE - May 11, 2012 01:01 AM (GMT)

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The stairmaster machine was pretty soothing, setting Malcolm into a rhythmic pace as he worked. He was still pretty much warming up - the endorphines didn't really seem to make him feel much better about life until he'd really hit his stride, really gotten going, started to sweat. But the steady climb helped. He pressed a button on the machine, making it pick up the pace just a little bit, making him work a little harder. He felt the sweat start to bead on his brow, and felt his head clearing a bit. He'd be okay with school, he'd pass. His cases were minor, and he was supervised - everything would turn out better than he expected, he told himself.
<p>He noticed a woman getting on the treadmill next to him, setting herself a good pace, and starting to jog. "I feel for the families." He figured she must have been talking to him - he was the closest person, without headphones on. "Yeah. That's just too bad." He watched the news ticker flash a death count, as the anchor droned on and on about French police action. "The worst things about those bombings is that the bomber generally blows up inside the car. Can't even press criminal charges. I'm Malcolm." He said, without skipping a beat, as he ticked the pace on the stairmaster a bit faster.
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LAYLA HOUSE - May 17, 2012 04:25 PM (GMT)

Layla was at a comfortable pace on her treadmill, though even if she was, she wasn't really paying attention to the speed she was going.Her focus was on the conversation she started and the news that continued to show on the television. She was worried that speaking out to him might have portrayed her as a talkative no-good person; she knew she certainly wasn't a no-gooder. She did enjoy a good conversation from time to time, though. Granted, the current subject was depressing, but she felt confident that they weren't the only ones talking about it.

As the man spoke, Layla listened intently at what he had to say as the soft pat-pat of her feet continued to move on the treadmill. She nodded to his response that it was too bad. A soft smile fell on her lips at the next part. The worst things about those bombings is that the bomber generally blows up inside the car. Can't even press criminal charges. I'm Malcolm. "Yeah. But since the people involved with the car bombings are dead, then they should be headed to Hell prison, if there's such a thing. I'm Layla." She saw he went a little faster on the stairmaster and she decided to do the same with her treadmill.

"Do you come here often?"

MALCOLM VITALE - May 19, 2012 01:36 AM (GMT)

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"Hell prison, hm?" He took a swig from his water bottle. "I don't know. I work as a criminal prosecutor. I'd still like the opportunity to put guys like that away, you know?" He watched the ticker change to a new story. "Layla, hm? Nice to meet you."
<p>"Do you come here often?" He shrugged. "I come here a few times a week. Mostly early mornings, before the office. What about you, Layla? You here often?" He could remember having seen her around specifically at the gym, at least not in recent months.
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LAYLA HOUSE - June 6, 2012 06:21 AM (GMT)

"There's gotta be a spot for the really bad guys, right? I mean, if they all got together they might all conspire against Hades himself."

"Prosecutor, huh? Yeah, I get that. But you can't bring the dead back, so the next best thing would be hope there's a prosecutor that meets him in Hell and snags him there."

"Actually, this is the first time I've been here. I usually do my workouts at home before I work at the high school. Thank God I have the day off today."

I'm glad I came here. It's a great place, and the people, well, person I've seen here so far has been very nice."

MALCOLM VITALE - June 12, 2012 01:11 AM (GMT)

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He smiled, feeling himself starting to sweat a bit, feeling the endorphines rush. She made a joke about the Prosecutor in Hell catching the bombers. "Oh, Har Har." He said, grinning at her and pumping up another level on the machine. He needed to keep working hard at it. "Don't you know that all lawyers go to Hell?"
<p>"Oh, well thank you. The people here are nice." He joked, meaning himself of course. He turned back to the TV for a few seconds, slowing to catch his breath, and then speeding up again. As long as he could talk, but was breathing heavy, he felt good about his pace. "What do you do up at the High School? You teach?"
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LAYLA HOUSE - June 30, 2012 08:10 AM (GMT)

The workout was working, and Layla could feel her muscles start to burn. She heard Malcolm’s response and smiled. Oh har har. Don’t you know that all lawyers go to Hell? She chuckled breathily in response, “Of course they would. Someone’s gotta keep those bad-doers in line.” She grabbed her water and took a swig.

Oh, well, thank you. The people here are nice. Layla smiled, agreeing with him on that subject, even if it was just him at the moment. “They are. It’s also nice to have conversation while working out, but not have to worry about big crowds.” She slowed her machine to a slower speed, ready for her cool-down for a moment, since her muscles felt like they were on fire. What do you do up at the high school? You teach?

Layla took another sip of her water and noticed that she was getting low. She looked around and found a water fountain that she could use. Stepping off her machine, she said, ”Sometimes. You know, if a teacher calls in sick and I can’t find a substitute or I don’t have time to find one. I’m the principal there.”

Layla then tilted her head a little bit, curious. “Do you have kids?”

MALCOLM VITALE - June 30, 2012 09:36 PM (GMT)

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”Sometimes. You know, if a teacher calls in sick and I can’t find a substitute or I don’t have time to find one. I’m the principal there.” "Oh, no kidding." He said, grinning. He caught his breath for a few moments, tapering the machine down, and then pushed it up to a higher level again. It felt good to get his blood pumping, sort of thing. "I've been interning at the DA's office this year, and I do a lot of work with Teen Court. I feel like I've met the school's resource officer a few times." She'd probably been one of the people who reported kids to the police, or dealt with the smaller bullying cases that Malcolm worked on. "I'm surprised I haven't met you."
<p>When she asked if he had kids, he nearly laughed. "Oh, no, no." He shook his head. "I'm not even married. Not even seeing anyone. I married the law this past year." It was only half of a lie, but good enough. "What about yourself?"
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