thisavrou_log | assembling their philosophies ( open )

Entry tags:

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!

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... ]

ｍｅｒｏｄｅｃｋ
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? ]

ｔｒａｉｎｉｎｇｓｉｍｒｏｏｍ
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. ]

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[Venom noticed the shine of the shield before actually seeing who was holding onto to said shield. Was this guy the one Niko was talking about? The shield that could block bullets belonging to a super soldier guy. It seemed quite a strong theory. Snake sneaked up to the man quietly not wanting to disturb him if his company wasn't welcome.]

Nice shield.

[ It'd take a lot more than that to sneak up on someone like Steve, though he's subtle about turning to look at the man speaking. He knows he and Niko had gotten a new roommate, but he's been out so much, it's been difficult to keep up with all the new faces arriving this month. Steve shifts the shield to his left, the movement fluid and controlled. ]

It gets the job done. [ He offers a slight smile, a joke that probably doesn't have much merit to a stranger. Steve offers his hand. ] Steve Rogers. We share a room, right?

[Deacon is memorizing all the routes on the ship, learning the most efficient paths, the most deserted paths, best places to run and hide during an attack, best places to set up an ambush. You know, important stuff to make a place start to feel like home.

Although home didn't generally have naked men in towels.]

Uh...aren't you cold?

[He isn't usually insecure about his body, but seeing Steve is making him rethink that. How many muscles is one guy allowed to have? Save some for the rest of us, buddy. And he has to remind himself that he doesn't have his sunglasses and that it would be really obvious if he stares.]

[ He hadn't actually meant to leave the public bathroom like this, but as distracted as he'd been, he'd left his room without anything new to change into. So, he's got dirty clothes tucked under his arm and shoes in the other, making a strategic beeline toward his room. What's more is that Deacon would probably notice the dog tags around his neck considering he's got nothing but a towel pulled around him. It might go over his head at first if he happened to stare a bit too long too; he's actually used to that sort of attention now. ]

Not really. [ How does he explain he sort of runs a few degrees hotter than most people? The serum had done a lot of strange things to him, but Steve doesn't even blink at it. ] Sorry. My room's just down the hall. I forgot to bring everything with me this time.

[ Why, yes, he does look a bit sheepish about it. ]

[Wow, this is guy is very large. And the way he carries that shield, well... He's sort of an intimidating sight for the young fugitive. Robin had only been exploring the halls of the Moira to get her bearings on the ship, she had sort of hoped to avoid being approached by guys like this during her trip.

The girl's eyes are wide, she freezes at the invitation. Is this some kind of trap, perhaps? It's a strange time for one, if that's what it is.]

Um. For what?

[ He has to check to make sure he's seeing things right for a second, hesitating at her question and feeling a little awkward. Steve had assumed it to be someone else besides this small girl, and he relaxes, trying to consider what he should tell her. She doesn't look like she would be able to handle anything he had in mind, but he'd never count her out unless proven true. ]

Practice. [ He moves the shield so that it settles into place on his back. ] This room's used for training. [ A pause, thinking it over. ] And learning to protect yourself.

Here I thought it was just a daring fashion choice on your part. It's not every man that can pull off a towel skirt but...I think you've got what it takes.

[It's not often he's seen dog tags on living people. They show up on skeletons in the old military facilities, and the Brotherhood of Steel wears them, but he stays far away from the Brotherhood of Steel.]

Oh.

[Robin looks further down the hallway she had been walking down for a second. Longingly. She doesn't know this guy and really doesn't want to be having a conversation with him.

Admittedly, though, she's a little curious as to what this guy has planned. He doesn't seem to know who she is - in fact, no one here does. And if he's faking... Well, Robin can always escape. This guy is big, sure, but she figures she could probably beat him if push comes to shove; assuming he doesn't have any weird powers, of course.]

...and you want to teach me how to protect myself?

Yeah, we do. I'm Ahab. [Venom Snake was his codename and he'd rather use a real name instead of that to his new room mate. He shook the man's hand with his good hand and offered him a nod.]

Room 006, right? Niko Bellic also shares our room. He's a good man too. A room full of soldiers, huh? [Snake smiled at that.] Want to show me what that shield can do?

[Peggy had learned about the training room pretty early on, but she had been hesitant to go, given the nature of the technology there. It wasn't that she was against all the futuristic stuff, it was just taking her time to get used to it.

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?

[ Steve is not a small man, and he moves with considerably greater speed than most other inhabitants of Midgard ever could, but that doesn't change the fact that Sif is an Asgardian warrior, and on top of that she is wearing her armour.

It's more or less like running into a brick wall, if the brick wall had the ability to brace itself and toss you right into another wall.

She doesn't actually mean to be so rough, but sometimes centuries of combat training just gets the better of you. Like when a really fast stranger comes barreling right into you because he's too in his own head to look where he's going. ]

[riptide is still trying to conserve energy by not using his holoform. somehow, carefully walking through the hallways takes up less than actually projecting a hard light avatar. who knew.

for once, riptide notices something that could potentially be a problem before it hits him in the face. or in cap's case, hits his leg. he can only do one thing: quickly snap his legs apart and into each wall of the corridor. because, you know, who doesn't want to run through an arch with a robot's crotch at the top? everyone, that's who.] Damn, slaggin'-- [he has to use his arms to brace against the walls.] Why is my first response always-- augh! Balancing!

[he's talking to himself more than steve.]

Well - [ And Steve is mostly amused now, though he still wants to get to his room to actually put some clothes on. ] - you caught me. [ He shifts some of the stuff he's carrying into one arm so he can offer a hand. ] Steve Rogers. I guess this is the downside to rooming on this deck.

[ But he can't complain. His roommates are working out, and anyway, he's been in worse situations before. The tags he wears aren't his, a gift from someone on the ship with a very odd sense of humor, but it's not as if Deacon could probably tell that, even from this close. ]

[ He picks up on her discomfort, and whether or not it's because they're talking, meeting strangers can be pretty rough, or because of the location in general, it doesn't matter. Steve's demeanor softens considerably. He'd never had to do much talking to younger people, but it's not so hard he can't figure it out quickly; just be honest, and things will work themselves out eventually. ]

If you want. [ Steve isn't going to pressure her or force her to do anything she doesn't want to do. ] It's something to think about considering where we are.

[ Steve's response is to smile, his own little nod as if to say it was good to meet him. Probably was considering, and if he'd already met Niko... Things were slowly working themselves out. ]

Their idea of a joke, I guess. [ Sticking so many soldiers in one room. If the captains had been smarter, people with more experience should have been scattered among the civilians to keep an eye on things, but Steve isn't going to press the issue. Anyway, he has his attention more now that he's mentioned the shield, and he grips the edge of it more firmly. ] What did you have in mind?

[ He's never actually used the sim room since it had opened, but the thought of catered difficulty settings was appealing. ]

[ The warmth of her voice takes the tension bleeding into his shoulders and rolls it into something else entirely. Really, he doesn't know if he'll ever get used to seeing her again, the way she moves and speaks and looks at him. The tease - even if he's still a little stuck on the word partner - doesn't seem to faze him as it might have once, and his smile feels a lot more genuine as his body language shifts. ]

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.

[ It comes as a surprise, slamming right into someone and then falling back just as hard, and if it wasn't for those quicker reflexes, he might have smashed his face right into one of the walls before ending up on the ground. As it is, Steve rolls and his shoulder takes most of the impact, feeling it down to his legs and biting back the sound that works its way into his throat. The initial shock hurts more than picking himself up, and he stands slowly, a little winded but hardly worse for wear. Probably. ]

Sorry. [ He doesn't think he can taste blood. So, at least he hadn't bit into his lip. ] Are you okay? [ She looks fine, but you never know. ]

[ It actually takes a second to process that he's not alone and that he hadn't run beneath one of the many entryways of the ship, and he's probably a good quarter of a mile down before he slows and stops and turns back to look. Being so heavy in thought like this probably isn't the best considering the number of crew has increased, but that doesn't ready him for the robot in the hall trying not to fall over. Steve's quick to backtrack, though the few years he's had in the future and around all of Stark's tech still isn't enough to prepare him for this. ]

You need a hand? [ He might not look it, but he could probably keep Riptide from falling over if he really put his back into it. ]

[ It's been one hell of a week.

When Snake first got here, everything had been different and overwhelming and new, but he'd been able to get a hold on the situation and settle in as much as anyone could on a spaceship that bounced from strange planet to stranger planet.

Then Miller had arrived, and that had been odd, but nice in its own way, offering him a chance to revisit a time in his life that was long buried. Then had come Ocelot, and that had been much less nice, and now...

Now his father, his brother, and a man who had been made to pose as his father are all here, and Snake wants nothing more than to jettison himself out into space in hopes of finding a ride on another ship. Too bad that isn't a viable option.

Others on the ship have started to notice the proliferation of people with the same general face structure, and Snake's already preparing himself to make some kind of announcement. He needs to warn people about Liquid, for one thing.

He's wandering the ship with all these thoughts swirling in his head when he's interrupted by the sound of someone running. Generally people don't run around just for fun, not unless they're trained for that kind of thing, and so he's expecting an emergency. Instead someone who's built like a tank rounds the corner and almost knocks right into him; it's Snake's quick reaction time that has him jerking out of the way.

The guy over-corrects and slams into a wall. ] Hey-- [ Snake sighs, but as he gets a closer look he realizes he recognizes the man. They'd spoken briefly right when Snake first got here. ] They've got a rec room for a reason, you know.

Um.

[She's definitely hesitant, but... this guy seems about as non-hostile as they come. He doesn't sound like he's trying to make her do anything that she doesn't want to do, at least. And the only weapon he's got is a shield, which she's relatively sure she can get away from if need be.]

Okay, maybe. [She's always willing to learn, after all. At the very least, maybe she'll learn a thing or two about this crewmate.] What sort of things did you want to teach me?

I might... [he wobbles a bit, leaning on the wall. his arm scrapes, leaving a small smear of blue paint. woops] ...literally rip your arm off.

[he finally rights himself.]

I feel like I should ask how you missed me.

[ It was getting to him more than he liked. The fact that he's in space, sure, but more the strange feeling of isolation. There were people from his world, and Foggy knows he should be glad. He knows, deep down, that this is just another weird situation that he has to deal with and at least it's him and not Matt.

Part of him, an ugly, ugly part of him, sort of wishes it was Matt. At least then it wouldn't be him. Matt could actually stand a chance, and--hell, Matt could probably even join the Avengers or some shit like that. He could keep up with this.

It's usually a sign he's had far too much to drink when he starts thinking negatively about Matt in any light--or thinking of himself negatively in any light--because Foggy prides himself in being steadfast and loyal. He doesn't want to wish Matt to be a part of the avengers in any universe, if he's being honest. He's just fed up with things he can't fix. Things he can't help.

It's fairly late at night and Foggy himself has a bottle of what he's dubbed space scotch, all to himself, and he's about halfway through it with four fingers of it poured into a tumbler. It's extremely rare he takes moments like this to spiral into 'i hate everyone,' even drunk, but there's only so much a normal person can do with stress and a complete environment change. He looks up when the door opens, raises a brow, and is somehow unsurprised. ]

Speak of the devil. Captain America himself. [ He raises his glass in a move that he hopes is ironic looking, but probably just looks ridiculous and unimpressive. ]

[Deacon hesitates just long enough to glance at Steve's other hand and make sure that there was no risk of being pulled into a sudden unexpected knife. That'd suck. But it's pretty obvious that Steve's not hiding a weapon on himself at the moment. Not unless he's really creative. So he takes Steve's hand for a firm handshake. He puts extra effort into it, determined not to be too badly outclassed for firmness.]

Deacon. [No indication given on whether it's his first or last name.]

I live on Nomo deck. It's nice digs but the view isn't nearly as exciting.

I am fine. Are you?

[ It's not an apology, but it is an expression of genuine concern. She should not have reacted so hastily but this ship has her constantly on edge. She never feels as if she can relax on board, and Steve's fast approach made her go into battle mode for a split second there, which unfortunately was enough to cause potential damage, though he appears to be fine. ]

[Steve was right. It had to be a joke, right? All those soldiers in one room?]

I'm not sure. How about I test your shield's bullet proof ability? Niko said that it stops bullets. I want to see if he is telling the truth. [That it wasn't just for show because it did look rather showy.]

I've only got a tranq gun unless you know where I can get a real gun from around here. [That was the issue. Getting weapons in this place. Venom hadn't even been in the Armory yet.]

[Rinzler's been to the simulation room before, mostly to pick a fight with the phantoms it rezzed up. The sight of a user filling the doorway isn't much surprise. He's even seen seen this one around the ship—they share a kitchen shift.

Still, the address? Is definitely surprising. Rinzler stalls, constant rumbling skipping a beat as his own helmet angles to the side. Is it challenging him?

He certainly hopes so.

The masked stare lingers for a moment longer before Rinzler ducks his head in quick assent. The program's shoulders stay tucked in, a hunch that seems to be ingrained clinging to his frame as he turns for the entrance and stepped in. Still, there's a preternatural fluidity to the steps if Steve looks closely... and that ticking whir has picked up a little. Rinzler's interested.]

[Honestly, she feels very much the same. It was almost as if it were a dream, seeing him again, day after day, alive. Sometimes she still thought this was just a crazy, vivid dream, because then things would at least make a little more sense. She had dreamt of him often, possibly more than she would care to admit. It wouldn't be that much of a stretch.

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?

[ He might have made the connection between those similarities had he spent much time in his room. Yet, with so many things outside of that particular place requiring his attention, with so many people to look after and keep in touch with, Steve's been too busy to notice. Maybe his heart's in the right place, but his priorities are a bit skewed, which is partially why he isn't paying attention enough to completely avoid the other man in the first place. His palms take the worst of it, part of his shoulder, but it's nothing he can't shake off, nothing he doesn't know how to handle.

Steve does, however, remember what little conversation they'd had before, it's been a while, and he's straightening himself up as he considers the comment. He'd tried that once, the rec room. It's not enough space when he really needs to get moving. ]

I guess they do. [ His breathing's evened out a lot standing there, a smile pulling at his mouth. ] A little small though. I'm usually better watching for other people. [ There's an apology built into that, his expression almost sheepish. Maybe it's time he figured out a new routine anyway. ]

[ As late as it is, Steve has fallen into a sort of pattern. Work, even if it's a listless job sometimes, check in with some of his people on the ship, turn in and not sleep. Everything's diving deep and digging a hole he can't fill, worry and anxiety and a mess of guilt that only seems to get worse the longer he's there with the people he cares about. It's a constant thrum in the back of his mind, usually bleeding into his waking hours, and when he's this stressed out, wired and ready to break the wall with his fist, resting is hardly an option. It's better than the nightmares, by far, but it's still exhausting. Even he can only go so long without it. Still human, through and through.

Which is why he finds himself in the same space as Foggy that night, aimless and looking for a bit of a distraction that doesn't come in the form of a past he can't shake and red lipstick on a perfect mouth. Though they'd only spoken through text, he recognizes him from his mini profile on the directory, and Steve squares himself like this is going to be an exercise in social interaction he isn't quite prepared for. By the sound of his voice and the way he addresses him, it probably is. ]

Not a lot of people care about that here. [ A little facetious, and he slowly joins him with a look that says he can tell him to leave if he doesn't want the company. ] Nice to finally meet you in person.

[ He means that genuinely. ]

[ There's only a brief hint of recognition—by sight, not by name. He doesn't question things most of the time, there are so many people from so many different universes and worlds that it's slowly becoming second nature, and by the time they're accepting his invitation, Steve's falling in line like it's the easiest thing to do. (It is when he wants the distraction of combat, when relying on instinct is far more welcome than sitting and hashing out a plan.) He picks up on the sound, too, but again, he doesn't comment on it.

Steve looks around the open space before glancing to Rinzler, his shield placed once more at his back and out of the way to leave his hands free. ]

You can choose the program - if you want. [ Because he's sure it'll be easier to understand what the other can take before adjusting it to his own standard. Or dialing it back. There's no illusion to the fact there are people aboard this ship stronger than he is; an average person, however, is another story entirely. Regardless of that, Steve's ready, and all they have to do is begin. ]

Niko says a lot. [ It's a gentle tease, something he's not sure the other man would understand. He's only known Niko for a short time, but Steve trusts him. Regardless of what he thinks of himself, he's a good person. Steve straightens up at the comment. ] There's an armory, but I think it's only used for requests. We'll make it work.

[ Or they could probably set the sim so they're dealt gunfire. The shield can take a lot of impact, so he supposes others who have never seen it used would be curious. He moves it to its usual place on his back, tilting his head in a cue to follow before he turns to go inside. ]

[ Steve wouldn't need to hide a weapon if he thought about taking someone out—if he was the type to do it. He only picks up on the hesitation, though he doesn't comment, and the handshake is solid, a good indication of the kind of person Deacon might be. It's one thing to glimpse at someone's character through action, and it's another altogether when it's subconscious, even with intended effort. ]

It's not really that exciting here either. [ Was that a line? He's sort of missed it if it was. ] You been here long? [ He's going to wager probably not, but it's always better to ask. ]

Basic self-defense. [ The comment is automatic, earnest in a way that says he wouldn't show her anything he didn't think she could handle, and he crosses his arms as he considers what else there would be to that. ] How to assess a situation. It's not always about staying and fighting. Sometimes, it's about getting away that's more important.

[ Good advice from someone who doesn't actually know the meaning to the word quit. He'd do it all day if he had to, refusing to give up when so much was usually at stake. But when others were beginning to learn, it wasn't always the best method to dive right into unless they were the type of person to do something like that. He smiles. ]

We don't have to do it now. You can think about it.

[ Steve doesn't want to consider how many times he'd thought of her. In the future, his relationship with her was complicated and sad, a fleeting moment of understanding that slipped through his fingers and began again when he stopped speaking, and that sort of pain is something no one should be able to live with. Yet, he shoulders it and carries on, grasps the situation hard and never lets go. He would die for this as much as he would die for anyone he loved, and Steve follows her more than willingly, letting the door close behind him to shut them inside.

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. ]

Yeah. [ He feels mostly fine. A little winded, maybe, but it's nothing he can't shake off given the chance. Talking seems to help, and Steve looks at her a bit closely, trying to gauge whether or not he recognizes her. (He doesn't, but there are so many faces aboard the Moira now that it's impossible to keep them all straight sometimes.) He smiles slightly. ] I can't speak for the ship, but I'm good.

[ There's only a small dent in the metal frame of the wall. Nothing to worry about. ]

[ He wonders how much that's actually true but decides not to ask. This is a giant robot, after all, and Steve's sure there's more true to that than he'd ever want to learn firsthand. ]

Quick reflexes. [ He smiles, though it doesn't long. Really, he's kind of concerned for him. ] Are you gonna be okay? I was going pretty fast.

I understand getting away.

[ She's been running for months, after all. Robin would be dead if she couldn't recognize when running was the best option before her.

What she really needs help with is the actual violent part. It may be hard to tell from her thin, bordering on malnourished, frame and small stature, but she's killed before. More than that, she's killed full grown Marines - soldiers more than twice her size - and every single time it's been an extremely messy, terrifying affair. If she could just get better at fighting, she might not have to resort to such measures as often in the future. Or, at the very least, when she does resort to them, it'll be a lot cleaner.]

...I want to learn how to protect myself better, though. I can start today, if you want. I wasn't really doing anything important.

Yeah, I did move pretty quickly, didn't I?

[no, riptide]

I'll be fine! I'll be fine. I don't have muscles to pull. Are you okay? I mean... I'm bright blue.

[he doesn't feel like he's easy to miss, and yet.]

A few days. Still getting used to it. It's nice not getting shot at, and the food, the food is awesome.

[The truth is Deacon feels like a fish out of water here--a dirty, slightly irradiated fish that keeps expecting danger. His pals back at HQ probably don't even realize he's missing yet. When he doesn't come back, they'll assume he was killed doing recon. They won't look for a body.]

How about you? How long have you been kidnapped by aliens?

Yeah. I'm sure we will.

[Snake offered the man a quick nod before following him into the room. He wasn't sure what to expect as he'd not been in this part of the ship before. So many rooms and so many places to explore. Venom would have to carry out a sneaking mission of his own just to do a recce on the place.]

Do you come here often to train, Steve?

[The curved shape over the user's shoulder doesn't escape Rinzler's notice, and he spares a curious scan that way. No charge or sense of coding, though it seems oddly dense. Too large to be a proper disk, of course. He tilts his helmet a little at the words before shrugging in assent. Not a direct challenge, then. Still, he suspects he can find something to enjoy.

Rinzler turns toward the console, checking through the array of options. It's not hard to find the settings he'd jury-rigged before. Cycling sets of respawning attackers, lightly armored and heavily armed. The program glances his 'partner' over for a moment before setting the group size to eight. Skill level and teamwork are at maximum for the threats, and Steve might notice one other detail if he checks over Rinzler's work. The safeties seem to have been disabled.

Rinzler makes no attempt to comment, verbally or otherwise, though he won't interfere if the user wants to watch. Simulation prepared, the enforcer steps back, low rumble quickening just a little as he reaches back for his own disk. The helmet tips toward the user. Ready? As the one with vocals in the room, it's better equipped to get things started.]

[Peggy had spent a lot of time watching and observing people, and he had been no different. Even with all the time that had passed, for both him and her, many of his mannerisms were the same. She picks up on that nervousness that was all so familiar in the best of ways, and she finds herself unable to hold back a small smile from forming on her face.

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.]

[ The last comment catches him off guard. He knows--everyone knows--that good ol' Cap is nice and wholesome and amazing and perfect and family friendly. It would be absolutely grating if Foggy didn't admire the guy, and maybe that makes it worse. New York loves their home grown superheroes, and even if it's Brooklyn and not Hell's Kitchen, Steve counts. Apparently his grandfather fixed up the Rogers' house hold, back in the day. Foggy's fairly certain it's the old Nelson trait of over-exaggerating. ]

Surprised you're mingling with the little people. [ It's a little darker than he intends--a little bitter. It's that kind of day, and he probably shouldn't take it out on the other.

Probably. He raises the bottle he's got: a silent invitation to join him.]

[ She glances over at the dent, and one corner of her moth lifts in a slight smile. ]

In that case it would seem that all is well. My apologies, you took me by surprise.

[ There's the apology. It takes her a while to get to those sometimes but she usually gets around to it when she knows she's messed up. ]

[ For as hard as Steve slams into the wall, he shrugs it off like it's nothing. Either he's used to pushing past pain, or there's something else going on. Snake has had to reorient the way he observes other crew members after Clark literally carried him and a car full of kids and flew them to safety. ]

It's fine. [ Some people need to actually move and get somewhere when they work out, but the ship isn't built for it. It would be a different story if the planet had more space to move around in, but that obviously isn't the case this time around. ] There's been a lot going on here, with all the new people coming in.

[ The Moira is getting pretty crowded these days, which wouldn't bother Snake if so many of the newcomers weren't estranged family members of his. ]

Anyway -- if you want to get back to your run, don't let me get in your way. [ Snake shifts more to the side, clearing a path for Steve. He knows how frustrated he finds it when he's interrupted in the middle of exercising, so he won't keep Steve if he'd rather continue what he was doing. ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

assembling their philosophies ( open )

training room

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mero deck

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training room

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training room

hallways

places this Obligatory Robot in here, hallways

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rolls in late with starbucks (hallways)

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mess hall/space bar/thing we discussed

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training room

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it better be an americano

gross

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naturally!!