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Helena found a book in the Warehouse's library discussing Yoga and found it quite fascinating indeed. After a bit of research, she decided to try and take up the practice. It's not really that much different than some of her martial arts training, and as she quickly realized, she's not as flexible as she once was. ~~Century as a statue'll do that to you~~.

Thus, in a corner of the bar, doing sun salutations is Helena in yoga pants and a blue tank top. She's still botherable, however.

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"It's usually more comfortable to do that outside," says Ganymede, watching Helena in the gaps of his transcription.

"Less to worry about kicking one of the rats, or another patron."

"Generally, darling, but it's quite cold out there right now. I wouldn't want to freeze." She shoots him a rather large smile. "Besides, I am well aware of my perimeter. I have martial arts training, and know quite well where my limbs are."

"Caribbean inlet," he says, smiling back--as if that explains everything. In his mind, it does, and he'd much rather be out there if he must do sun salutations (which he doesn't find particularly thrilling) than in here.

"I have no doubt you know where all of you is at the moment. It was more that you might not know where everyone else is."

"I did not know that was out there." She glances towards the back door. "I shall have to remember that in the future."

A shrug. "Perhaps, darling. I will grant you that people do tend not to notice where they are many times." She holds out a hand. "I don't believe we have met. Helena Wells, darling."

"It's a much more preferable location to anyplace covered in snow, at least for longer than necessary," he says, rising to take her hand.

"Ganymede," he murmurs; there are times when he's not given his birth name to people here, but today isn't one of them. And anyone that calls him darling offhand makes him smile; she in particular reminds him of someone he used to know. It's a nice association. "It's a pleasure to know you, Helena. If I may call you that so soon."

"It's horribly cold back home, and it's awful. I could go an entire year without the cold or snow, and it would be more than fine with me."

She makes a face, but grins at him. "Of course, darling. Anything else is just too stuffy. So, Ganymede, where are you from, if I might ask?"

"Originally, Troy," he says lightly. "Lately, Los Angeles and at the moment just outside Cologne, Germany."

"Interesting. Troy of the ancients, or Troy more modernly?" She doesn't seem to be fazed by this. "An acquaintance of mine is originally from Macedonia. What have you been doing in the mean time, if I might ask?"

"Ancient," he says, surprised but glad that she seems to be taking it in stride. "Staying as far away as possible from Zeus. Sometimes it even works. In the meantime I own a winery and two bars."

David had been out back, having a look at the lake and environs. It so happens Helena's in his line of sight when he comes back in.

There's a chance, knowing each other as well as they do, she can hear his brain short-circuiting before he manages to look away.
"Good God, Helena, what are you doing?"

She drops her pose, and turns, laughing a bit. "Oh, do relax, Wooley. It's called yoga, Indian practice, I believe. All the rage back home." She waves a hand and sits on a table, crossing her legs. "I'm not as flexible as I once was. Hopefully this will get me back into shape."

"It's nearly as bad as you changing clothes in front of me." Especially since her clothes are so... fitted.
"Surely you'd have no trouble keeping in trim."

Helena rolls her eyes. "It's not untoward, Wooley, relax a little." She snickers, shaking her head. "Flexibility does tend to dissipate over time, darling, and standing in one place for a century does not do wonderful things for one's physical state."

"Still. You always were more inclined toward exercise than some of us." David would count himself in that category, though he did what he could.
"Do forgive me if I'm not used to twenty-first-century modes of dress. Or exercise, for that matter."

"Sitting around on one's arse is not of benefit when one has to go chasing after things." She grins. It's a discussion that the have had many times.

"Oh, you will get used to them, darling. Just be glad that I'm not inclined to go around in modern swimwear." She laughs to herself, imagining his reaction to a bikini.

"Given up on swimming costumes, have they?"
Look, she's going to tell him anyway. He might as well see it through.

"Strategically placed fabric triangles, darling." She'll let his imagination do the rest.

"...why did I even ask."

"Well, I don't know. You did ask, darling." She grins, laughing a bit. "If it makes you feel any better, I have not had occasion to aquire one as of yet." Now what she wore in Egypt, that's another story.

"That, I think, is between you and Joshua. When have I ever been able to stop you doing anything?"
Really, Helena.

"You have reined me in more often than you might realize, darling." It's a bit sad, a bit fond. "However, you are correct in that my manner of dress is my own prerogative."

Edited 2013-11-21 21:09 (UTC)

"I know, Helena." Believe it or not, David is aware he talked sense into her more than once, before that little time-skip she threw him into. Otherwise she'd have done much worse much sooner.

"How have you been doing, darling?" She gets off of the table and sits in a chair, demurely at least putting her legs under the table. She waves over a rat and orders tea and scones. "Settling in alright?"

"As well as can be expected when one's dead, I suppose. It's at least a very interesting place to pass the time. And I do like being able to call my Friday evenings my own again."
He only eyes the rat for a moment; if anything, that's taking the longest to get used to.

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