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thisavrou_log2016-03-07 11:50 am
abide) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-03-07 11:50 am
assembling their philosophies ( open )
Who: steve rogers (abide) & OPEN
When: now
Where: various parts of the moira
What:all gratuitous shirtless options living the american dream in space
Warnings: none for now!
abide) & OPENWhen: now
Where: various parts of the moira
What:
Warnings: none for now!
ｈａｌｌｗａｙｓ
routine is the necessity of coping
[ It's early.
Steve has long since left his room, quiet and light on his feet until he leaves the decks behind and sets out around the Moira. This is a familiar path, first beginning in the main hall for several long minutes of stretching and loosening up. His attire is a little more informal, something to make running in comfortable, and maybe he looks somewhat vacant from his own thoughts as he pushes up from the wall and begins to jog. There are too many small details to let his mind sift through, Peggy's arrival and Bucky's in the mix between more Avengers showing up - Natasha, he knows, he's grateful to see - and all the others he doesn't know. It keeps happening, and there's nothing he can do to stop it, nothing he can do besides help them adjust and keep moving forward.
He rounds a gentle corner and passes by the garden.
Even as they are now, his relationship with his team is floundering. He feels responsible for the gap between Wanda and Bruce, and as much as he wants to try, he doesn't know how to fix it. On top of that, he'd been careless on Emiri; there's no outward sign of ever getting shot, but he doesn't need it to feel the weight of the bullet lodging itself into his heart. Steve's only been on the Moira for three months, but it seems a lot longer with the progressive destruction of his friendships.
Picking up speed, he runs into corridors with all those countless rooms and just keeps going. He thinks about back home, about his mission and about where he is. He thinks about it not being so necessary anymore, not here. He thinks about Sam. (He misses Sam.) He thinks about the state of the world, unfair as it is, and Steve frowns, moving faster like he can barrel his way through it all. What he doesn't realize, however, is that he might actually run into someone else on his path back and forth. Either it's a narrow miss, slamming himself hard into a wall to keep from hitting them or he knocks right into them... ]
ｍｅｒｏ ｄｅｃｋ
but washing off the blood
[ Cleaning up after his run is a quick affair. He's got his shift in the kitchen soon, and then, he has to make his way down to the bow to check over everything. (That part is almost too boring, but he doesn't mind the monotony most of the time.)
His deck is notorious for not having privacy, which he doesn't mind as long as he's not sharing with women at the same time—a matter of principle, really. It just gets uncomfortable then, which is his excuse to come back later when it's empty. And he's lucky to be there alone until he's not anymore. Anyone of the opposite gender is just going to notice him sitting on the edge of the Turkish bath with a towel draped over his lap until he can make his way outside without looking too conspicuous about it. Or time passes, and he's leaving before that awkward mess of introductions. Sometimes, though, even Captain America might have forgotten to grab a clean change of clothes, and he's making his way through the Mero hallways, barefoot and shirtless. Steve has his towel, and as distracted as he looks making his way back to his room, that's the important thing. Right? ]
ｔｒａｉｎｉｎｇ ｓｉｍ ｒｏｏｍ
takes more than a quick hand
[ Sometimes, though, beating out the aggression building in his system literally means beating something else, and he stands just outside the training simulator area with his shield in one hand. He doesn't plan to go inside just yet, considering what to do and how long. An hour might not be enough. Two or three...
Steve knows others have asked about training and defense, which is a good idea considering where they are, but he hasn't yet addressed the ship about it. Maybe he would make the time, gather some volunteers who would also offer to show different styles and techniques, and make it a regular routine in the scheme of things. The captains, as complacent as they are about schedules and everything else aboard the Moira, don't seem overly interested in the welfare of their crew as a whole. That's a poor sign of leadership, and his grip on the shield tightens, suddenly driven by the thought. He'll pass it on to Niko, maybe get in touch with that other man. Miller? He'd ask the younger Barnes as well. It'd be a start.
Still, that doesn't help him right now, and he takes a step forward, only turning when he catches movement out of his peripheral. Someone passing by. ]
I could use a partner. [ He gives a half smile, short but inviting with the cant of his head in the direction of the door. They could decide on the intensity level once they're inside if they're up for it. ]
ｅｌｓｅｗｈｅｒｅ
and leaves a heavy heart
[ Got an idea or just want a random thing? Steve can be found almost anywhere on the ship at any time. He might make a trip down to Ceta once or twice, but he's mostly got his priorities focused on the Moira for now. ]
routine is the necessity of coping
[ It's early.
Steve has long since left his room, quiet and light on his feet until he leaves the decks behind and sets out around the Moira. This is a familiar path, first beginning in the main hall for several long minutes of stretching and loosening up. His attire is a little more informal, something to make running in comfortable, and maybe he looks somewhat vacant from his own thoughts as he pushes up from the wall and begins to jog. There are too many small details to let his mind sift through, Peggy's arrival and Bucky's in the mix between more Avengers showing up - Natasha, he knows, he's grateful to see - and all the others he doesn't know. It keeps happening, and there's nothing he can do to stop it, nothing he can do besides help them adjust and keep moving forward.
He rounds a gentle corner and passes by the garden.
Even as they are now, his relationship with his team is floundering. He feels responsible for the gap between Wanda and Bruce, and as much as he wants to try, he doesn't know how to fix it. On top of that, he'd been careless on Emiri; there's no outward sign of ever getting shot, but he doesn't need it to feel the weight of the bullet lodging itself into his heart. Steve's only been on the Moira for three months, but it seems a lot longer with the progressive destruction of his friendships.
Picking up speed, he runs into corridors with all those countless rooms and just keeps going. He thinks about back home, about his mission and about where he is. He thinks about it not being so necessary anymore, not here. He thinks about Sam. (He misses Sam.) He thinks about the state of the world, unfair as it is, and Steve frowns, moving faster like he can barrel his way through it all. What he doesn't realize, however, is that he might actually run into someone else on his path back and forth. Either it's a narrow miss, slamming himself hard into a wall to keep from hitting them or he knocks right into them... ]
ｍｅｒｏ ｄｅｃｋ
but washing off the blood
[ Cleaning up after his run is a quick affair. He's got his shift in the kitchen soon, and then, he has to make his way down to the bow to check over everything. (That part is almost too boring, but he doesn't mind the monotony most of the time.)
His deck is notorious for not having privacy, which he doesn't mind as long as he's not sharing with women at the same time—a matter of principle, really. It just gets uncomfortable then, which is his excuse to come back later when it's empty. And he's lucky to be there alone until he's not anymore. Anyone of the opposite gender is just going to notice him sitting on the edge of the Turkish bath with a towel draped over his lap until he can make his way outside without looking too conspicuous about it. Or time passes, and he's leaving before that awkward mess of introductions. Sometimes, though, even Captain America might have forgotten to grab a clean change of clothes, and he's making his way through the Mero hallways, barefoot and shirtless. Steve has his towel, and as distracted as he looks making his way back to his room, that's the important thing. Right? ]
ｔｒａｉｎｉｎｇ ｓｉｍ ｒｏｏｍ
takes more than a quick hand
[ Sometimes, though, beating out the aggression building in his system literally means beating something else, and he stands just outside the training simulator area with his shield in one hand. He doesn't plan to go inside just yet, considering what to do and how long. An hour might not be enough. Two or three...
Steve knows others have asked about training and defense, which is a good idea considering where they are, but he hasn't yet addressed the ship about it. Maybe he would make the time, gather some volunteers who would also offer to show different styles and techniques, and make it a regular routine in the scheme of things. The captains, as complacent as they are about schedules and everything else aboard the Moira, don't seem overly interested in the welfare of their crew as a whole. That's a poor sign of leadership, and his grip on the shield tightens, suddenly driven by the thought. He'll pass it on to Niko, maybe get in touch with that other man. Miller? He'd ask the younger Barnes as well. It'd be a start.
Still, that doesn't help him right now, and he takes a step forward, only turning when he catches movement out of his peripheral. Someone passing by. ]
I could use a partner. [ He gives a half smile, short but inviting with the cant of his head in the direction of the door. They could decide on the intensity level once they're inside if they're up for it. ]
ｅｌｓｅｗｈｅｒｅ
and leaves a heavy heart
[ Got an idea or just want a random thing? Steve can be found almost anywhere on the ship at any time. He might make a trip down to Ceta once or twice, but he's mostly got his priorities focused on the Moira for now. ]
training room
But she had been itching to get back into her training regimen, wanting to be in top shape for whatever this ship might throw at her next.
She might not have planned to arrive there at the same time as Steve, but she certainly wasn't going to complain.]
A partner, you say? [As if she would ever say no, but she can't help but think of what he had said to her all those years ago, about waiting for the right partner.]
Hmmm, I don't know. I'm rather picky. [She can't resist teasing him, sorry.] Are you sure you can keep up with me?
no subject
I don't know, but I'll try my best. [ Maybe he could just leave the shield, and they could work on personal combat rather than attempting the simulations. Steve tilts his head, the curl of his mouth a tease on its own. ] If you think you're ready for it.
no subject
But she was slowly accepting everything around her, and doing her best not to linger on the what-ifs and maybes that she's been plagued with since learning of the fate of Steve-- and even Bucky. That didn't mean it was easy, just a work in progress. And it was also part of why she was so eager to get back in the gym. Training had always been a good catharsis for when she wanted to dispel emotions.]
You say that as if there were ever a time I wasn't. [And she was ready, just like she always was. Even if she's still struggling with everything, she's putting on her best brave face, determined not to let it all get the best of her. She had to be strong, especially for him. So she moves further into the room, hands resting on her waist as she waits for him.] Shall we dance, Captain?
no subject
They're alone, and he tries to remember to breathe, dropping the shield and pulling at the gloves he'd pulled on so his hands are bare. Using the sim room for sparring probably defeated the purpose of its function, but he's already keyed up enough that it doesn't matter. Her words are like a sharp knife to his heart and his gut; he's anxious. Maybe a little nervous too. ]
Your choice. [ He says it as casually as he can, dropping his gloves into the curve of the shield and pushing it away with his foot. ] I'll follow your lead. [ Like that's how a dance is supposed to go, but he's ready anyway. ]
no subject
She was nervous too; she would be lying if she said she wasn't. While so much about him was still him, he wasn't the same person that had gone in that ice. But neither was she. In a way, they were meeting each other all over again, gradually building back to what they had lost. She wanted things to be what they were once, but that was what scared her the most. She had no idea if it ever would be the same. She had spent so long stuck on the past, on what they might have had, but now that things had changed, she had no idea what that meant for them.
As he pushed his shield aside, she moved into a defensive position until she was sure he was ready, before launching into her first volley of strikes. While she may not be quite as fast as him, she is quick and knows to keep surprise on her side.]