Darius merely squinted in irritation at the light glare from Dakota, but he didn't say a word to speak up against her. He would, however, fum quietly to himself as he slipped out the door with the grace of a cat who had been royally ticked off. What, was he not allowed to say hi? Jeez.

The Leo sighed as he stepped onto the cobblestone path, the gentle roundness of the rocks and brick feeling nice on his bare feet. He shut the door softly behind him, surprisingly soft, considering his irritation and pent-up frustrations at the moment. He attempted to let the feeling of the earth beneath his feet warm him from within, but it just wasn't working. He let out a soft, irritated groan before he continued on, his feet hitting the grass. The soft, springy greenery felt nicer beneath his feet than the bumpy cobble, but it still wasn't enough to settle is nerves.

No, that would have to be reserved for the unfortunate punching bags and whatever else was in there that Darius could punch until the anger had melted out of him, pooling in his feet instead of his head and heart, freeing him and letting him breathe without feeling some sort of nagging frustration in the back of his head, some problem he'd let go unsolved.

His feet met with wood that creaked beneath his weight, and he took the broad steps two at a time. He rapidly undid the metal latch that would give him access to the gym, slid inside, and rapidly closed the thing behind him.

He was enveloped in darkness now. It was as freeing as it was suffocating.

Darius's hand groped the wall until he found the light, switching it on with his index finger. The hallway illuminated, leading down a cement staircase. Even down here, Dakota seemed to have kept it spick-and-span - He could've sworn that the steps glittered like marble, though he didn't really take the time to appreciate it. He blinked his golden eyes a few time to adjust them to the light before he set off down the stairs.

When he entered the gym, it seemed like a body builder's paradise. However, Darius wasn't here to get obscenely shredded, he was here to vent away the nagging feeling in his chest.

The boy made a beeline towards a bench against a wall, throwing his duffel down on the ground in front of him right before he sat down. He leaned against the wall, which was faintly padded like those of a high school weight room, possibly to avoid injury if someone decided to get into a brief boxing match for training. He lifted his hand and patted it gently, testing the give. Yeah, it was decent.

Opening his bag, Darius pulled out two rolls of black hand-wraps. He set them beside him on the dull brown bench before he began to undress into his work-out wear.

This work-out wear was namely a lack of shirt and a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, along with a pair of plain white socks and tennis shoes. He slung the black shirt off of him and tossed it on top of the duffel bag before he shed his skinny jeans, trading them in for the freeing sweats. He pulled on his socks, then his shoes. Then, he began to wrap his hands with an acquired skill, his free hand rapidly wrapping the wraps around the other with surprising dexterity. Had he put this much research into writing with both hands, he could have easily been ambidextrous if he'd wanted.

Darius sighed to himself, sitting on the bench for a moment and staring at his hands, flexing his fingers experimentally. The handwraps were tight enough to prevent the bones in his hands from getting injured by the force of his punches.

Satisfied, Darius rose, his slender, scarred body flexing gently as he stretched. His golden eyes focused on a punching dummy from across the room.

Since no one was there, Darius charged at it like a half-starved lion, something akin to a primal roar echoing from the depths of his chest. His feet landed heavily against the padded floor, making loud thudding sounds. His fist made contact with the 'belly' of the dummy with a satisfying 'fwump.' The first punch was merely the first of many.

His blood boiled like fire, his eyes containing an inexplicable rage as he battered the dummy with everything he had. His fingers seemed to ignore the sting that was brought by each furious throw, only seeming to clench tighter into a fist. His jaw was clenched, every single contact with the dummy making him grunt or growl in anger, the reason unknowable to any of the other Zodiac.

Darius knew why he was upset. Oh, he knew. None of his fellow Zodiac could possibly understand. They could never understand what had happened to him, what he'd been through. They'd say that it was his fault, getting involved with mortals. They'd likely spit the word so it felt like acid melting his skin, seeping into his flesh and transfiguring his form into that of some misshapen demon. They'd say it was his fault. He'd earn no sympathy from them.

So he didn't bother. He never so much as hinted as to what had happened. All they were left with was his strange, mysterious shift in personality, but even then they'd never questioned it. He figured that they may have thought he'd matured, grown a bit more realistic, less idealistic and optimistic.

They'd be right, though they would never know what had prompted such a jump in maturity.

The thought of their callousness forced his fist harder into the dummy, another angered shout escaping him. Sweat began to bead down his body, slicking down the hair that made contact with his forehead.

Jaxton Snake | Male | 20 | ⛎| Location: Woods --> Abandon guest house | Mentions: Zodiacs in general (Indirectly)(open)

Jaxton sighed in boredom. I'm just wasting my time. It seems like almost all the zodiacs are inside. he thought. Giving the Zodics' home a second glance, he grabbed a hold of Ruby. Returning the she-snake to her rightful place amongst Jaxton's neck. With one small heave he launched himself off the branch, landing on the ground with a graceful step. " Let's go home Ruby. " he spoke to his snake. The man walked east of the Zodiacs home. You may be asking, " Jaxton has a home? ". Yes indeed he does. Jaxton made himself a home in a abandon guest home that is found on the east side of the Zodiacs home within the forest.

It seemed to have been abandon for many years, and Jaxton knew it was dormant since he hasn't seen one zodiac in the area of it. The zodiacs must have not known that there even was a guest house that was on the same property as their home, it must have been forgotten. It was a bit run down, but it still managed to run with a few or no problems. After a long walk, Jaxton had made it to his somewhat small home. The outside was littered with plants that were growing along the walls, the only thing that wasn't covered in leaves was the door, and that was because Jaxton ripped them off in order for him to enter the eerie building.

The door did have a lock, but Jaxton had managed to pick the lock a long time ago and now had been an expert in opening the door, as if Jaxton had made his own personal key to it. Once Jaxton got inside he was greeted by a dimly lit living room. The lights and water seem to work well, since it is on the same property as the zodiacs' home, it would still be connected to the same water and electricity source. The small guest home was furnished, but seemed to be in a moderate condition rather than excellent, but Jaxton was not bothered by it. He merely made himself home as he layed on the nearby couch but not before setting Ruby loose so she may roam. She was like his guard dog, alarming him if anything was intending to find out where he was.

((Ooc:@Dire, I'm hoping that the idea of there being an abandon guest home that Jaxton uses is ok. ))

By the time Darius had exhausted his meager energy, he noticed red liquid staining the dummy's body.

Darius heaved deep, shaky breaths, tears streaking down his face, as did sweat, his hands held clenched and bleeding at his hips. His elbows were slightly bowed, as if ready to strike forward with the anger of a viper, though after a few more moments of staring the bloody dummy, they fell limp, letting his hands hang, unclenched, by his thighs. His head hang with it.

The Leo slowly looked to his knuckles, which had become bloody from his relentless punches. His expression was not surprised, although it was annoyed, almost saddened by the sight. This seemed to be routine, as he slowly strode over to his duffel and sat on the bench, beginning to unfurl his handwraps and replace them with bandages. His golden eyes seemed dull as he stared at the off-white fabric. Just as hand-wrapping looking like it had become practice, this had, too. It wasn't something he ever did with realizing. He didn't mean to wail on something until his knuckles bled, but it... It just happened. He got lost in his anger, got lost in all of his pent-up aggression and sadness... He just had to let loose. Sometimes, that meant some bloody knuckles.

They'd heal shortly. He'd disinfect them later.

"This shit again," he mumbled, lifting his wrist to wipe at his eyes.