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[training log] we are the champions
CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: Station 72
WHEN: Day :44
SUMMARY: 1988 Crystal Light National Aerobic Championship.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
DAY 44 begins without ceremony, the station quiet and still, the murmur of host's minds distant. Even with all of the current new hosts returned from their mission the station is too large to ever really feel lived in. It is almost peaceful, when the call comes.
The voice is nothing like Cathaway's, who is so often in the young Host's minds, but then again Prince was rarely so warm or inviting, and in the days he has had to recover from the Station's recent jumps he has returned to his more stable state, his tone perfectly matched to his speech, seeming as near as if he is speaking just over their shoulders.
'Good morning. I would like to encourage all hosts, most especially those fresh to the station, to join us today in the Training Wing. This resource is not to be underestimated, as it will not be available to you when you are on assignment. Attendance is recommended.'
With that simple message he is again gone from their minds, leaving them alone with their own thoughts- and anyone else who shares them. Left behind is the impression of how to reach the Training Wing, in case anyone is unaware.
FOR THOSE WHO CHOSE to follow the call and make their way to the Training wing, they will find Prince, once again adorned in his traditional uniform. He has beside him a small stack of charcoal grey jumpsuits identical to it beside him, for any host who had not previously made their way to the wing.
For those who are familiar with the space he simply nods to them and leaves them to their own devices, unless they should chose to approach him for more than simple encouragement. For those who are new, he will direct them to the lockers and give them the honeycomb textured jumpsuits, which will fit them perfectly. He will also give a brief explanation of Iota and Rho symbiotic types for those who need it ((as outlined in the setting)) and go into the basics of the specialized abilities all hosts develop. He will not divulge the exact ability that a host possesses at that time, but may be persuaded to with some difficulty. He will then suggest that they set their mind to learning what they can aboard the station, and let each host know that he only teaches the willing.
After that, the space is theirs.
((OOC Notes: Welcome to the second training log! Below you will find some information from the first log, which is now also available in the setting section!
The Training Wing is large- bigger than the biggest gym, and it contains a number of specialized spaces for Host’s use. What follows is an (incomplete) list of amenities. Have an idea for another space? Drop us a line in the questions section of the most recent calendar post! The training wing itself is a central hub-type area with a number of hallways that branch out in a vaguely spiraling fashion spanning multiple levels. Below are a list of locations key to this log:
• Lockers - Featuring rows of open cubbies, shower spaces, a bathroom, towels, and sets of shoes for those of you without proper footwear. Hosts visiting the lockers for the first time will receive their station-standard charcoal grey suits, which are tailor fit to their exact measurements. These suits are flexible, strong, and surprisingly breathable, and are comfortable enough to wear all day.
• Track - Centrally located there is a large running track that is multiple lanes wide, the ground of which is coated in some sort of slightly rubbery, gripping substance.
• Gym - Located not far from the lockers is an almost traditional gym space, with a number of pieces of exercise equipment, some of which is familiar and some of which is not. There are instructions that will read in a pleasant voice if you seem lost. You will find both strength and cardio equipment arranged in a somewhat sensible manner.
• Training Hall - A large open space with a number of pads on the floors and walls and a wide variety of dummies and protective gear. This is the space where you will find melee practice weapons ranging from swords and pikes to slightly more exotic weaponry- all blunted or dulled- as well as room for most forms of martial arts.
• Range - Lying closest to the Flight Hangar, this room features a number of targets and projectile training weapons. Here you will find everything from bows and arrows to laser guns. Nothing is capable of doing real damage, but it feels and reacts in a way that’s very real. Handy readouts will tell you exactly how accurate (or inaccurate) you are.
• Pool - It’s a pool, there are lanes, so swim free. Please don’t drown. There is no sauna. There are two styles of suits available, a simple charcoal one-piece with white piping, and an equally simple charcoal swim briefs with matching white piping.
We're in control, body and soul,
We push ourselves to the maximum!!))
WHERE: Station 72
WHEN: Day :44
SUMMARY: 1988 Crystal Light National Aerobic Championship.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
DAY 44 begins without ceremony, the station quiet and still, the murmur of host's minds distant. Even with all of the current new hosts returned from their mission the station is too large to ever really feel lived in. It is almost peaceful, when the call comes.
The voice is nothing like Cathaway's, who is so often in the young Host's minds, but then again Prince was rarely so warm or inviting, and in the days he has had to recover from the Station's recent jumps he has returned to his more stable state, his tone perfectly matched to his speech, seeming as near as if he is speaking just over their shoulders.
'Good morning. I would like to encourage all hosts, most especially those fresh to the station, to join us today in the Training Wing. This resource is not to be underestimated, as it will not be available to you when you are on assignment. Attendance is recommended.'
With that simple message he is again gone from their minds, leaving them alone with their own thoughts- and anyone else who shares them. Left behind is the impression of how to reach the Training Wing, in case anyone is unaware.
FOR THOSE WHO CHOSE to follow the call and make their way to the Training wing, they will find Prince, once again adorned in his traditional uniform. He has beside him a small stack of charcoal grey jumpsuits identical to it beside him, for any host who had not previously made their way to the wing.
For those who are familiar with the space he simply nods to them and leaves them to their own devices, unless they should chose to approach him for more than simple encouragement. For those who are new, he will direct them to the lockers and give them the honeycomb textured jumpsuits, which will fit them perfectly. He will also give a brief explanation of Iota and Rho symbiotic types for those who need it ((as outlined in the setting)) and go into the basics of the specialized abilities all hosts develop. He will not divulge the exact ability that a host possesses at that time, but may be persuaded to with some difficulty. He will then suggest that they set their mind to learning what they can aboard the station, and let each host know that he only teaches the willing.
After that, the space is theirs.
((OOC Notes: Welcome to the second training log! Below you will find some information from the first log, which is now also available in the setting section!
The Training Wing is large- bigger than the biggest gym, and it contains a number of specialized spaces for Host’s use. What follows is an (incomplete) list of amenities. Have an idea for another space? Drop us a line in the questions section of the most recent calendar post! The training wing itself is a central hub-type area with a number of hallways that branch out in a vaguely spiraling fashion spanning multiple levels. Below are a list of locations key to this log:
• Lockers - Featuring rows of open cubbies, shower spaces, a bathroom, towels, and sets of shoes for those of you without proper footwear. Hosts visiting the lockers for the first time will receive their station-standard charcoal grey suits, which are tailor fit to their exact measurements. These suits are flexible, strong, and surprisingly breathable, and are comfortable enough to wear all day.
• Track - Centrally located there is a large running track that is multiple lanes wide, the ground of which is coated in some sort of slightly rubbery, gripping substance.
• Gym - Located not far from the lockers is an almost traditional gym space, with a number of pieces of exercise equipment, some of which is familiar and some of which is not. There are instructions that will read in a pleasant voice if you seem lost. You will find both strength and cardio equipment arranged in a somewhat sensible manner.
• Training Hall - A large open space with a number of pads on the floors and walls and a wide variety of dummies and protective gear. This is the space where you will find melee practice weapons ranging from swords and pikes to slightly more exotic weaponry- all blunted or dulled- as well as room for most forms of martial arts.
• Range - Lying closest to the Flight Hangar, this room features a number of targets and projectile training weapons. Here you will find everything from bows and arrows to laser guns. Nothing is capable of doing real damage, but it feels and reacts in a way that’s very real. Handy readouts will tell you exactly how accurate (or inaccurate) you are.
• Pool - It’s a pool, there are lanes, so swim free. Please don’t drown. There is no sauna. There are two styles of suits available, a simple charcoal one-piece with white piping, and an equally simple charcoal swim briefs with matching white piping.
We're in control, body and soul,
We push ourselves to the maximum!!))
b
[He may have not completely meant to say that out loud, but who's counting. Clint probably won't mind. And he says it with a lot of fondness. As much as he tries to keep his thoughts locked down, his memories withheld, there's the inevitable flashes of red and white armor, of a sword, unkempt hair and an expression set in mild, constant, irritation.]
[Been a long time since he'd seen anyone flick a sword around like that.]
Where'd you learn?
no subject
Shiro, hello hello. Fondness all his own wells up across the bond. It's good to see him, and easy enough to answer the question. ]
I grew up in a circus, picked it up from my first mentor before I learned how to shoot.
[ A shrug, before he flicks the blade in a showy move, laughs softly. ]
Been years since I've practiced.
no subject
[Of course that's the question he asks. Not "how did you grow up in a circus" or "what the heck". After everything that's happened, honestly, that almost sounds normal.]
[He pauses a moment, before stepping up a little closer.]
Want to try it out?
no subject
Guess it depends on the show? Though I'm pretty sure Swordsman taught me because I wouldn't stop bothering him.
[ Aka: Little Clint Barton was an annoying little shit, nothing has changed.]
Don't laugh when I fumble.
no subject
[But then he's grinning, with the look that doesn't bode well for most people within earshot.]
Wouldn't dream of it. I don't mind giving you a hand practicing.
[As he... straight up flexes his right hand instead of an actual weapon. That was a joke. That was a Dad Joke.]
no subject
Alright then handyman, show me what you've got.
[ Clint's not above bad jokes either, clearly. He lunges, blade singing through the air, but it's an easy enough move to dodge. Testing the waters, playful. ]
no subject
[He nods, still grinning himself. And braces for the oncoming hit. Holding up his arm in defense of his face. He could move, but for now, he lets the sword hit, lets it skitter off metal.]
no subject
Quicker, this time, but still warming up. ]
How fast are you?
[ Seemingly idle, but there's something calculating there. This is a game, sure, but Clint's not one to turn down some assessments of his teammates. ]
no subject
[Familiar. Like being back home again.]
Something tells me you're going to find out no matter what I say.
no subject
He won't seriously injure his broodmate, of course, but there's always a danger when it comes to live blades. ]
Buck up, buddy. It'll be fun, I swear.
[ Maybe mostly for him, though ???? ]
no subject
[Something tells him he'd had to have good reflexes. He's had to be fast. He's still alive, after all. So when the sword slips his way again, he jerks back, on one foot, the other sweeping out and down. Aimed for Clint's ankles.]
[Knock him off balance. Get the upper hand.]
-- maybe.
no subject
Clint doesn't know how much force Shiro's arm can withstand, but it's likely far more than he can offer. Speed, then. Hands tightening, blade turning so the flat of the sword should hit just underneath rib instead of the bite of metal. ]
Definitely.
[ With a tone that's suited to the cat that caught the canary. ]
no subject
[He moves forward into the swing. Into Clint's range -- right up into it. To get inside his swing. Driving forward with an elbow. It would be armored, if he were wearing it. As would his side. Although how much protection it would offer is anyone's guess.]
[So he drops the metal hand. To try and physically grasp the blade as it comes in. It won't hurt those fingers. It won't hurt any part of that hand. So he moves to try and grab, to pull it down and way, while his human elbow moves in to try and strike Clint's collar.]
no subject
More important to dodge the elbow aimed at his collar.
So Clint shifts, bending back in a way he knows he's going to regret later. It's only Shiro's grasp of the sword that grounds him, but Clint uses that to his advantage. There's no time for hesitation, and he uses his full weight to haul Shiro in in a bladed imitation of tug of war. Split second decisions, but he lets go, getting his footing and shifting to slam a knee up into Shiro's gut. ]
no subject
[Gives a little more freedom than before.]
[Clint is dodging. Moving to strike and leaving him with the blade in metal fingers. But, if he's bringing the knee up... ]
[He takes it. And it hurts. He's not wearing his armor, so it very, definitely hurts. But he keeps his grip on the sword, pushing it forward as sharply as Clint kicked his knee up. Pushing the butt of the sword at the other's chest.]
no subject
But what's the point of training as if your opponent wasn't coming at you to kill? A real fight won't go easy just like that.
So he knees Shiro, but his broodmate soldiers through it. Too close, not enough time -- Clint shifts, hoping to avoid catching the full brunt of the strike. Doesn't quite work, and there's a sharp burst of pain as the pommel of the sword slams into his ribs. Fuck it hurts, and he winces, wary about trying to wrest the sword from Shiro's grip. But he doesn't have to, does he? Instead, Clint reaches out and catches fistfuls of Shiro's shirt, yanking him off balance as he moves to sweep his legs out beneath him. ]