[b]URIEL ATTICUS - LOCATION: GYM[/b]

Ah dang, they interrupted his lifting streak, or reps, or whatever they’re called. Was a shame, dude looked like he was on a roll. The Hispanic guy sat up, glanced at Formerly-Shirtless Muscular Dude before making eye contact with Uriel himself. He was much taller and much bulkier than Uriel had originally assumed, standing at about the same height as Mr Shirtless. Hazel eyes looked directly at Uriel and gave an obviously fake smile, the falsity of which Uriel immediately shrugged off. At least he put in [i]some[/i] effort in being polite; despite it being a rather meagre amount. And then, oh god, Uriel suddenly took a VERY large interest in the exercise machines as the guy wiped his sweaty face with his shirt, which gave Uriel an incredibly gratuitous view of the guy’s rock solid bod. Even out of the corner of his eye, Uriel could tell that they guy was unbelievably ripped. He once again cursed his feeble sexuality and attempted to do some kind of stretch-yawn manoeuvre to give himself a reason to shut his eyes momentarily. But it didn’t end there! No, the guy [i]ran his bloody hand through his hair[/i]. It seemed to happen in slow motion and all Uriel could do was watch in horror. Jesus Christ, what kind of bullshit Abercrombie and Fitch commercial was he sitting through? Uriel mentally flipped the bird to whichever god decided to put Uriel in the presence of these two dudes.

[i][color=00aeef]I already know all queers go to hell, why do you need to punish me even more like this, you celestial asshat?[/color][/i]

The guy’s voice brought Uriel out of the fervor.

[color=00a651]“I don’t have super strength. I just lift a lot. I have been for years. It’s a bit unnatural that I lift double what I weigh, yeah, but that’s just because I push myself that hard. I don’t care what any of those people say. They made a mistake bringing me in.”[/color]

Ah, the sweet scent of denial. Uriel was no bench-pressing expert but even he could tell that it was a stupidly large amount.

[color=00a651]”The name is Christian. What about you two? And what ‘powers’ do you guys have? Also, I’m hungry. Any of you two hungry as well?”[/color]

Christian extended his hand, which Uriel hastily shook. Urgh, sweaty. At least he was able to use the Businessman’s Shake. Dad always said that a man’s handshake was as much an important part of the first impression he gave as the colour of his teeth. Uriel discreetly wiped his hand on the back of his shirt.

[color=00aeef]“Name's Uriel. Flashy name, I know. The coach said I could manipulate the way peeps feel pain, like give people headaches and such. It’s real funny ‘cos my Legal teacher would say that I always gave her a headache too, way before I accidentally made my whole class flunk their Maths test. Apparently, it can go off when I don’t really want it to, the “powers”, that is. Actually, now that I really think about it, a lotta people would say the exact same thing. I remember one time…”[/color] Uriel rambled on for a bit, launching into his extremely riveting story about how he almost got murdered by the boys hockey team because he handed out vuvuzelas to the crowd at the State Finals (he thought the vuvuzelas would help cheer the team on!). He went on for a while before remembering the last part of Christian’s questions.

[color=00aeef]“Oh yeah, I ate earlier but there’s always room for more! This stomach’s like a vacuum cleaner! You'd think there'd be some logical limit to how much it can consume but it just never ends!”[/color]