lookin' for something (open)

[franky juanita gomez]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width:400px; padding:5px][bg=121212] SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THESE WHO AM I TO DISAGREE TRAVEL THE WORLD AND THE SEVEN SEAS EVERYBODY'S LOOKING FOR SOMETHING Franky looked at the man hitting the pads that were on her hands with a light eyebrow raise, as if she was asking what the hell he was doing. It was like he had never hit anything before, that or he was being chicken shit and afraid to hit too hard “because she was a girl”. How many times had she gotten that before? It really wasn’t that easy being a woman and owning a third of a gym, especially one that catered mostly to men and men who happened to reach six and half feet and three hundred god damn pounds. Not that it meant anything since she could still take more than half of the ones that came through here anywhere. She was a little more involved in the gym than the other two; one man was too old to do more than yell at “boxers” in the ring located in the center of the gym and the other was more interested in getting as much money as possible without sending their charges sky high. But all of that was for another day. Right now Franky was focused on her newest trainee, who still looked like he was about ten seconds from pissing in his pants. With a huff, Franky let him hit her hand one more time (if you could even call that a hit) and then dropped her hands, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she asked him, not even giving him a chance to stammer out a response before she was getting in his face and yelling at him, “who the fuck taught you to hit, huh? My grandmother could hit harder than you and she’s eighty. Fuck, I’m pretty sure my seven year old hits harder than that. Or are you holding back because I’m a woman? If I find out that’s the reason I’m going to take you to the ground and kick your god damn ass, you hear me?” She paused for a moment and turned her head so her ear was facing him, “sorry, I didn’t seem to hear a response from you.” He grumbled a little and Franky saw that look on his face, causing her to bite back a smirk as she stepped back, raising her hands, and he hit one then the other a few times, and hard. Hard enough that she could feel the hits reverberate up to her shoulders and she started to laugh, hitting him upside the head lightly with one of the pads on her hand, “well I’ll be damned, you can hit like a man!” He grinned a bit, looking up a little with a slightly embarrassed chuckle when he realized some of the others were looking at them, but not a single one of the men in the room at that point could say much since most of them had been in the same position themselves at one point. “Now get your ass on the ground and give me fifty crunches. Or you and I can head into the ring.” The man gave a light snort and pulled off the gloves he was wearing, “I think I’ll take my chances with the crunches.” Someone walked by and patted him on the back, telling him it was a smart move, and as he laid back Franky stood lightly on the toes of his shoes to make sure his feet didn’t move, listening to him count out the crunches under his breath and then her name was being called from across the floor of the gym. Looking up she saw Mick holding the phone over his head and she pointed down at the man, “I’ll be watching and if you cheat…well…don’t cheat.” With an evil smirk and a small wink, Franky walked off and snatched the phone, jumping onto the counter to stand on it so she could talk and watch her newest trainee. “Gomez.” There was a chuckle on the other end that she recognized as her brother’s and she rolled her eyes, “Gomez? Why do you always answer the phone like that? Can’t you, for once, just say ‘Franky here’?” Franky sighed and shook her head, “did you call me to criticize the way I answer the phone or do you actually have something important to say?” “Oh rawr, be gentle with me kitty cat. Anyway, I’m kidnapping your daughter for the evening; I promised her a Disney movie marathon.” Kidnapping her daughter? Part of her wondered if she should say something about his terminology, but just shrugged, “alright, but don’t hype her up on sugar this time, I do like it when she sleeps at night instead of jumps on my bed until she passes out.” She watched as her trainee sat up on the fifty count and took a small breather before rolling over and starting pushups, nodding her head in mild approval while her brother spoke. Franky hung up a few minutes later and hopped off the counter, carefully of course considering her knee, and walked back over, standing in front of him, “I’m impressed, now get off the floor.” He stood with an eyebrow raise and she pointed up at the clock, “it’s been an hour. Don’t you have somewhere you should be, Doctor?” The man laughed and grabbed a towel, “well I’ll be damned…” Franky pointed at him, “same time next week, and if you’re late it won’t be fun for you.” The man nodded and she stretched her arms over her head, staring over at the ring for a moment and wondering how long before Mick had the thing cleared out, and instead went back to the locker room and grabbed fresh wraps, wrapping up her knuckles and heading back out. There was one empty punching bag out of three and she started hitting it lightly, wondering if anyone was going to try and hold it for her again. The last time someone tried they ended up with a black eye; which had been interesting to accomplish. Her breathing quickened slightly as her hits sped up and started hitting the bag even harder, sending it rocking back and forth on the chains that were keeping it up, and then suddenly it wasn’t moving as much. Franky frowned and hit it a couple more times, making sure that there really was more resistance and she wasn’t going crazy, before stopping and looking behind the bag, staring at the person who was holding it with a blank stare, blinking once or twice. “Can I help you with something…?” she asked, wondering if they had been trying to get her attention or attempting to be helpful…it was hard to tell with people these days. [style=color:#00BBFF; text-align:center; letter-spacing:1px; background-color:#121212; padding:2px; width:400px]TAGGING: open | WORDS: 1,117 | OUTFIT: tank top, sweats, shoes, and hand wraps | NOTES: anyone can join...and...have fun...? [/style]