1965-02-12 - These Boots Are Made For Something
Summary: Dizzy and Sage meet in the gym while the former tries to get a uniform broken in right, before fight lessons ensue.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
sage julie 

Dizzy's presently, well, taking a moment of the gym being unoccupied for some playing around on the gymnastics equipment. Which isn't quite so unusual as the fact she's wearing some yellow boots and gloves and a well-laden utility belt to match. Also a brown-black leather jacket with some Xes on it. Otherwise, though, she's in the sort of clothes one might expect her to hang around in. She runs along a balance beam for a head of steam, then jumps from a saddle-horse to leap a bit off-angle up onto one of the parallel bars, where she steadies herself a moment before standing up on one and pacing along it as though being critical of her shoes, which perhaps she is, the way she sort of seems to shift her weight around.

It's moments later when Tessa Valentine shows up in her usual workout gear. She pauses at the entrance, an eyebrow lifting. "Repairing the equipment?" she calls out. She assumes this is, indeed, the case. Dizzy has a knack for this sort of thing that she hasn't really seen in anyone else. "Do I even want to know who broke it this time?"

Julie hrms, turning around, rather casually, considering where she's standing. "Oh, just kinda breaking in these freaking boots. I figure with Cyclops around I might as well'a gotten some fixes. I know this cobbler over on… Well, in Brooklyn. Blind as a post, but he does a good job. Had him square off the toes." Also of course, he probably didn't ask why the boots are *yellow,* really.

That eyebrow lifts again. "A blind cobbler? How does he work?" For a second Tessa considers that this is the set up for some kind of joke. Because it really, really sounds like one. "I am guessing he wasn't aware of the colour of the materials he was using?"

Julie shrugs a bit. "Who knows, really. Guess by the time his eyes went completely he already knew howta do it mostly by feel. Used to wear these really thick glasses when I was little. Kinda thought he was creepy that way till, you know, you get to know people sometimes." She jumps back toward the saddle-horse, neatly. "Kinda getting on in years, though. Dunno who's gonna ever replace him."

"I often wonder what it was like centuries ago," Tessa says absently. "When such professions were something many would strive to learn. There always seems to be fewer and fewer of such people. Specialized though they are, not many see them as a job to aim for." She departs from the door and approaches Julie, stopping only when she hits the mats. "Are they comfortable shoes?" she wonders, as she starts stretching.

Julie winks. "Getting there. Well, except they're a bit funny-looking, but disguises and all."

"I don't think many people look at footwear. At least, not when it's part of an ensemble that's trying to impress." Of course, Tessa could be wrong. She's jsut making her own observations. "Have you managed to get in any workouts since we discussed that possibility?"

Julie nods, jumping down the rest of the way. "Well, I dunno what impression this kinda get-up these go with is supposed to make in the first place, maybe, "Hey, whatever this is, we ain't a bunch of hoods, don't shoot us or something," she winks. "Just, most of what I do, it don't help if they got you in a pair of pumps or something, kinda field-tested these things the other night on that bit of a rescue run up Northeast." She adds, "I forget, though, what kinda workouts you mean? Been getting some kinds in, anyway."

"I think we discussed the possibility of some more intensive workouts and self-defense to compliment the… roughhousing you're already familiar with." There'd be a smile, no doubt, if she could. "While you explaining the vehicle you took through Limbo."

Julie ahs. "Oh, yeah, more than usual, you mean. Yeah, Doc Able's been giving classes as of just lately, and I been working on what you already showed me, and some other stuff." She tosses her head a bit indicating the direction of the garages. "We've got that …Limbo Raider, for lack of a catchy name, in paint just lately. Kinda hoping she'll pass for someone's crazy idea of a groundskeeping truck on a big estate like this."

Slowly, Tessa goes through her sequence of favoured stretches. It's a slow process, if only from habit, not because she needs to be sure she's doing it correctly. "That's good to hear. I was hoping you'd be willing to trade a few more… lessons for a lesson or two when it comes to working on a car." She /could/ just read it, but practical experience is far more valuable.

Julie smiles. "That ain't a problem. As for that big old beast, she'll be back together soon as some paint cures and all, and we bolt up a few body pieces I took off for the two-tone job, but maybe something between that and your little English job'll do for some of it in the meantime."

Her expression flickers, and maybe looks closer to being delighted. Or as delighted as Tessa can even look. "Wonderful." She tilts her head mid-stretch. "I think my telepathic students require a reminder that I'm not always available to play chess simply because I can divide my attention easily."

Julie laughs, "Well, I'm sure we could work that out, teach." She adds, "I dunno about the chess part and a lotta auto mechanics, at least. Maybe paint and body. I think a lot better when I'm driving, anyway. Could probably mess up a chess game if I was a telepath swerving around the rooks or something." She posts a bit of a kick, such as she's been learning. Seems satisfied at least she won't actually send a boot flying that way, now.

The trouble with boards telepathic students and being a telepath that can split her attention without either conversation suffering: mental games of chess at random hours. Tessa watches the series of kicks approvingly, though she adds, "Turn the leg you're standing one as you kick out like that. You'll get more distance."

Julie hehs, winks, tries shifting to the other foot, then doing that, then doing it again, this time, trying to add a bit of VRRR behind her own rotation. Which seems to work, but perhaps goofs up her usually-unerring balance or some such. Stumbles a bit, laughs. "Still trying to work out if I can do that that way." Waggles the boot, which stayed on. "What'd I tell you about that shoe guy, though."

"They are nice boots," Tessa admits with a nod. "But I don't know much about cobbling to comment on the quality." At some point or another the art of it certainly interested her. Much like millinery. But she chose another path. She might still look into it as a side hobby sometime. Maybe. "How long have you known him?"

Julie shrugs a bit. Holds out a hand to about the height of a *much* smaller Diz, "Oh, been seeing him once in a while since I was about that tawl." She thinks. It's …a whirl of old dashboards and gear levers in her mind. Stuff in the family, perhaps. "Coulda been maybe eight, I guess, first time I remember."

Sage catches the images, but only because they're 'out there'. She didn't have to probe Diz's mind. It's something she does not do without permission. At least in the best of circumstances. She shifts and moves, stretching her arms out over one leg, then the other. "You grew up here in New York?"

Julie nods, and does a bit of moving around, herself, perhaps to *stay* rather limber, even if she probably wasn't as scientific about stretching in the first place. "What was your first clue?" she jibes, a bit. "Well, Brooklyn, mostly, but Uncle Sal's place never left the other old neighborhood."

"The accent," Sage says without missing a beat. Of course /hers/ is pretty obvious too, so she's hardly judging. "I confess there are moments I feel I have missed something in not sharing an American upbringing with most of the students."

Julie nods, "Well, kind of the point of New York's that everyone's from somewhere else, well, not so long ago, anyway. A lot of the rest of America's kinda different. California's… pretty different, and a lot of what's between maybe even more so."

Sage nods slightly as she finishes a new series of stretching. This is apparently the end of it, because she 'claims' one of the punching bags for herself and begins a new series of repetitions. While still speaking, of course. "I've been told that before. It's easy enough to believe.. England itself is so different from place to place, even in the same city, that a country the size of America being different from place to place does not surprise me."

Julie nods. "I mean, I drove all the way across, and I still get surprised who shows up even just here. Guess maybe one day I'll see London at this rate, but never been very far apart from that, …Well, except the Brazil thing and other places you might end up when you hang out with Illy. Used to want to go to Paris with my, …ah, friend all the time, though. Even took some French."

"I like French," Sage says, a slight shrug as she pauses between rounds. "The rules are used, the exceptions are few… It's the antithesis of English in that regard."

Julie smirks mischeviously. "I'm not sure all the rules survived even in Italian over here. But I guess that's how you know who's been in America long enough or something, I dunno." She winks, tries taking the last fighting posture the two started with, if Sage seems done stretching. "But hey, if you know a guy for boots, it kinda works out."

She is, and she's finished with the punching bag too. She moves to mirror Julie, adopting a similar pose. "Ready?"

Dizzy smirks. "Better be, almost dressed for it or something."

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