@opponentcompel asked for a spotify wrapped starter. (accepting!)
She's gone over the time allotted to her in this little gym, staying a while after the rest of her team has all packed up to go get cleaned up for dinner, but no one from the next dojo has come knocking just yet, so Ravenna's routine extends itself indefinitely. There's no rush, just as she'd not felt rushed in the same way the rest of her team had when the clock had crept closer to the end of the window and most packed up before their time had completely run out.
Clipped onto the handle of her gym bag is a pink, padlock-shaped bluetooth speaker, and while it is certainly powerful enough to be loud, the sound it produces has a tinny, off-putting quality. This bag sits by the only exit--an open glass door set into glass walls--with its colorful contents spilled out around the plasticky canvas material.
She hasn't thought much about it in quite some time; the music has become white noise as she's focused on properly stretching after her workout. But, like most comforting background noise, she notices it when it suddenly dies out, unaccompanied by the proclamation of a low battery being the reason for its demise.
Someone powered the the device off.
"Hey! Who the fuck do you think that you are?" she snaps immediately, her high, generally melodic voice contrasting sharply with the punchy words that it forms.
She is in the wrong here for overstaying, but this man is touching her stuff without so much as announcing his presence prior to doing so; without even a warning, or staking his claim to the workout space. She's in the wrong, but she's prickly all the same.
"Don't touch my stuff, old man."
(loosely) based on lights out by bludnymph
