( open ) ❤ ❝ you're a fine girl ❞

[recoined]

CHARACTERS: kimberly hart & you!
LOCATIONS: all around the city!
WARNINGS: n/a. will warn in subject line.
SUMMARY: a variety of open starters for your enjoyment.

↪ crunches

( nearly every afternoon, just like clockwork, kimberly finds herself strolling into the well-lit lobby of crunches.

a few days a week, as the schedule allows, she can be found preparing for her zumba class. warm ups are done against the ballet barres, stretching like any good athlete should, blaring music through the room's speaker system. if she's alone (or in good company), kimberly dances to the beat, aimless enthusiasm expressed in spins and high-kicks and sways of her hips side to side. there's no real talent or trade, just boundless energy worked out to upbeat pop and r&b. occasionally, though, beats of late 2000s throwbacks will catch her attention; don't be surprised if you catch her singing along. feel free to watch, or maybe attend a class. just be prepared to work up a sweat.

if there's no class scheduled, kimberly can be found on a few different machines on the gym floor. the elliptical is her favorite, though the erg ("rowing machine, ergometer, erging") helps her build upper-body endurance. if she's feeling particularly masochistic, the lat pulldown does the trick. challenge her to a race, critique her form, whatever floats your boat.

when all is said and done, after a well-deserved shower, kimberly will happily treat herself to a post-work-out beverage. some days, it's pseudo-healthy smoothies (there's fruit in it!) from the juice bar ... and sometimes, it's just a giant cup of caffeine and sugar from deja brew. don't shame her. calories don't count after workouts, right? )

↪ blue spring pool

( what does a teenage girl do on her days off, when her friends are busy and her workouts are done? lounging at home isn't the answer — she can do that any time, and the warm weather isn't going to last forever; instead, kimberly can be found sprawled out on the grassy shores next to blue spring pool, a towel spread out underneath her swimsuit-clad frame as she soaks up the warmth of the sun. she's got to keep up her tan, you know?

while she often has headphones in, nodding and, okay, occasionally humming (or maybe singing) along to a particularly good beat, feel free to come snag a spot nearby. there's plenty of spots in the sun to lay out, and with the big trees, there's plenty of shade too for those that want it. feel free to ask what she's listening to, or just strike up a conversation.

when the sun beats down long enough and sweat starts to pool on the nape of her neck, kimberly will abandon her towel for a dip in the chilly spring water. it's seventy degrees year round, bordering on too cold, but it's refreshing after hours in the sun. come join her for a splash, or maybe just admire the view. )

↪ the deviant

( for all that clary ribs her about having a busy schedule, kimberly does have free evenings every so often, ones where she doesn't want to necessarily plan around another person or cater to anybody else's interests. on those evenings, she heads into the west side of the city, riding the trolley until it drops off just outside of a busy nightclub. she's sure there must be others, but the deviant's thumping bass had lured her in.

the music inside is loud and fast, upbeat dance-worthy hits and forgotten gems spun out by a dj on a second-story balcony; it's just right for sidling up to someone a little too closely at the bar, an excuse to linger with a grin and a pending drink order until someone catches the bartender for her. come buy her a drink, or maybe question her order or order her something else entirely. she won't complain. (much.)

and while the bar certainly offers its allure, the majority of her evening is spent on the dance floor itself, bass thumping in her chest as she lets her body move to the music. there's no planned steps here, no trained movements, just a natural rhythm. sometimes, she dances by herself, just lets the music guide her; sometimes, she reaches out, finds the first willing partner, lets them lead the way. come dance with her, or maybe just watch. just don't try to drag her off the floor before she's ready. )

↪ wildcard, etc.

( want something special? feel like dropping a starter for me? go for it, kids. feel free to hit me up via semicolons / supergirl#2740 / pm if you feel so inclined. )

Comments

[recoined]

( kimberly's default reaction to being shoved around on a dancefloor is to plant her feet, to let that unexpected strength root her to the ground, core tight and legs locked. it's a great strategy — especially when coupled with a disgruntled glare, brows knit together — when you're dealing with drunk guys unaware of their own size and strength. it's less great when it's a girl who's just a little tipsy, who really didn't mean to slosh into you.

at least whatever she's spilled hasn't gotten on her. that's a small miracle, right? a miracle that manages to make kimberly feel even more like a bitch for no reason, but hey. at least her shirt's survived. with a bit of a sheepish smile, she runs a hand through her hair, a little damp at the nape of her neck from sweat by this point in the evening. ) No, no, it's — I'm good, honestly.

( a better look at the girl strikes a bit of recognition in her. that hair is hard to forget, after all. )

Have we... oh, you're the girl from the work site, the one that gave Robbie shit for his... ( wannabe chippendales show? ) ... the water thing, yeah?

( jesus, kimberly. show your #priorities a little more. )

Your hair is ridiculous. ( wow. rude. ) Like, in a good way, I mean — pink's kind of my thing?

[dedikated]

( It won't be the first or last time someone's recognised her by her hair. Not that many people anywhere take the time to bleach and dye waist length hair bright pink. A step to the side that's far smoother than the movement that got them talking gets Kate out of the way of a couple of other dancers before she's reminded of that... entire disaster. But, unfortunately, no bells ring in Kate's mind about the girl's identity. To be fair, for most of the rebuilding effort she was just a little bit crabby about her apartment yet again being a no-go zone, this time because of the rubble and destruction.

But before Kate can say anything about that, she gets the strangest compliment of the week. Well, at the very least, she doesn't seem offended by the word ridiculous, so you're safe for now, Kimberly. )

Kept hearing that I were too easy to lose.

( Is that a joke? Who knows? It sounds like it may have been one, though one with a kernel of truth to it. She did hear that a lot, when her hair was brown and she liked to find odd places to sit, dashed around and spent too much time tucked away in corners of the garden or on a rooftop. )

[recoined]

Well, you clearly solved that problem.

( taking a better look at the other girl, kimberly finds it hard to even imagine what she might have looked like with traditional hair. was she a blonde? a brunette? maybe even — god forbid — a soulless ginger? the last one seems a little unlikely, though, given that she's not sporting deathly pale skin and an unreasonable number of freckles. more small miracles.

she's not sure what to say next, but figures a little standard politeness couldn't hurt. )

I'm Kimberly, by the way. I don't think we've, you know, actually met yet.

[dedikated]

( If they weren't under the flashing lights of this club, it'd probably be easier to notice the dark roots that she hasn't looked into fixing up since she got here, but the constant shift of lighting hides that problem quite well. Like it hides the stain she'll probably find on her shirt in the morning.

Well. It's not like she can do anything about that right now. She came out to get rid of some energy, rather than worry about clothes which can be washed. )

Kate.

( The introduction's clipped, short. Not the friendliest of greetings, but not exactly... rude. More like she doesn't know what else to say about that. She has a name. It's not very weird. And she doesn't know if this meeting is going to be a nice to meet you meeting yet or not.

Instead, Kate settles on the one thing which always seems easy to fit in: )

Need another drink?

( She does, anyway. )

[recoined]

( does she need another drink? probably not. kimberly's not entirely sure what her tolerance is, really; she hasn't had a chance to have more than one or two at a time since leaving angel grove, and while her body seems to heal pretty rapidly now, she isn't sure how much that extends to drinks at the bar.

but what the hell. of all the people in this club, she feels pretty confident that the clumsy girl with bright pink hair isn't the one she needs to be worried about when it comes to her own personal safety. if she gets a little too buzzed, she'll just call a friend, ask them to pick her up. no harm, no foul.

so... ) Yeah. Yeah, why not. I promise not to spill one on you this time.

[dedikated]

( If you ask Kate, the only good way to find out your tolerance is to drink too much and regret it in the morning. Kind of like going too aggressively in training to learn that yes, you will get flipped on your ass if you go that hard. But then, maybe Kate isn't the best role model for this sort of shit. ("Maybe".)

All things said, she's happy to lead Kimberly to the bar, better at stepping through a crowd than she apparently is at paying attention to where she's dancing. )

Hold you to that.

( Kate, just about anything you say would sound a lot more friendly if you were good at expressions or tone. )

What d'ya want?

( Sure, why not. Call it her round. )