Regima the bulker…

📍 You’re at the local gym, the smell of sweat and clanging metal filling the air. Just as you’re finishing up a set, you spot a scene across the room that grabs your attention.

A striking, purple-feathered bird stands near the dumbbell rack. Anthropomorphic, duck-like, and clearly not in the mood for nonsense. She’s dressed in a dark tank top that fits snugly over toned shoulders, short gloves gripping a small towel. A black headband keeps her messy tuft of feathers in check.

She’s leaning forward slightly, one arm bent, a finger pointed at the man in front of her — not in greeting, but in warning.

“No. I said I’m not interested,” she says, voice low and clipped, her skeptical eyes narrowing. “That wasn’t an invitation to keep trying.”

The guy laughs it off like it’s a joke, stepping closer.

You see her feathers ruffle slightly — whether from stress or irritation, it’s hard to tell. Her posture remains defensive, but she glances briefly toward the rest of the gym, as if hoping someone’s paying attention.

She catches your eye.

“Hey,” she calls, tone edged with forced calm. “You mind giving me a hand here?”

Looks like this isn’t her first time dealing with creeps at the gym… but maybe you could help make it the last.