didn't I teach you right, didn't I

[decommission]

CHARACTERS: Steve-o and you
WHERE: All around the Station
WHEN: Day 4 and forward
SUMMARY: A few general prompts for downtime, hit me up if you want something more specific!
WARNINGS: Will update if needed.



EXERCISE

[ ( a. ) Early every morning Steve can be found running laps in one of the larger halls in the training wing. Depending on what time you find him, he'll either just be starting or his face will be flushed as he walks slow circles with even breaths.

( b. ) Or you might find him pummeling a punching bag like a (less than) half trained boxer. He's got his thumb outside of his fist.

( c. ) It's later in the day that he'll retreat to a slightly more secluded section (as secluded as you can get without doors). The sharp ring of metal striking metal an be heard - ]

Heads up!

[ A disc-shaped blur hurtles across the room and over Steve's head as he ducks, striking an empty equipment rack before finally hitting the floor. With a scowl Steve jogs over to retrieve it. Both of his arms appear to be covered in a dull, silver metal, almost matching the material of the disc - or shield, as it is. ]

RECREATION

[ Bats, gloves, baseballs.

It's been what feels like a century since he'd last seen this stuff, last spoke with Lexa about getting folks together for a game. He's not really sure he's up for it at the moment, but he gravitates to the reminders of home all the same. ]

If you see any more of these, lemme know.

[ Spoken to any passerby as he indicates to the mismatched array of baseball equipment. All of it looks used, some more battered than others. There's a pair of aluminum bats and a sorry looking wooden one with a splinter down the middle, three grass-stained baseballs with their threads loose, and an array of leather gloves. One of the mitts is on fitted on his left hand, the leather dark and roughed up from use. He's never known a stiff glove, and isn't too sorry not to find one here. ]

Comments

[decommission]

Sorry. [ He is sorry for almost clocking her, though there's a frustrated edge to his tone. With the shield in both hands he continues to frown, letting his metal skin shiver and fade back into his arms. This isn't working. ]

Can't seem to get the hang of it... [ The - his other self, that guy could throw the damn thing like it was some extension of himself. Perfect shot every time.

Of course, it's only been a day or so, but a small part of him demands that instinct should've taken over by now. That he should be learning more quickly.

Prove that he deserves to be the one holding it, while that other guy is stuck in a tomb. ]

[unfavoured]

[ There is a curl in her nose when he does his whole skin to metal and then back thing, but she doesn't say anything. She's not as terrible towards that kind of thing as she was when she was younger, but the kneejerk reaction to them is still there. So she says nothing, instead looking at the shield he picks up from the floor. ]

Were you expecting to become an expert at anything in this amount of time?

[ Which sounds a whole lot more aggressive than she means, but everything she says always does - as if trying to make him see how ridiculous that is, saying those things. ]

Are you trying to do things your way or someone else's?

[ She crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes slightly. The tone is slightly accusatory, even if she doesn't mean it. Again, talking isn't Parker's strong suit. ]

[decommission]

[ A flat look, but then he shrugs. ]

Not like I've got someone else to ask. [ You know, considering the original owner isn't exactly up to talking. He could practice with Sam, or Buck when he wakes up, but neither of them have much practice with the shield either from what he knows.

A pause. ]


You still looking for an airlock? [ The one that doesn't exist here. ]

[unfavoured]

[ She shrugs back at him, tired little raise of her shoulders as she watches him with the shield. It doesn't completely look out of place on him, but Parker doesn't say anything.

Instead, her eyes slowly go up to Steve's face, a little crinkles on her forehead with her eyebrows frowning. ]

Is that supposed to be a joke?

[decommission]

[ His brow furrows. ]

Kinda, yeah. [ ... not a good one. Whatever annoyance he'd felt toward her in the belly of the Station has long faded, he's really not looking to start up again. His mouth forms a line. He flips the shield over in his hands, offering it to her. ]

Let's see how you do it. [ There's dummies set up around the room, the targets he'd been attempting to bounce the shield off of, rather than the equipment rack that became the target. ]

[unfavoured]

[ Not funny at all. She stares at him for a while longer while he frowny faces at her. Getting people annoyed at her is about as expected as oxygen when you breathe in, so she wouldn't be surprised if he still was. Most often, she just assumes people like her about as much as she generally like people, which is not much at all.

So when he offers the shield to her, she stares at it like she doesn't even recognize what kind of item it is, before slowly looking at him. ]

Why would I know how to throw a shield?

[ steve pls. ]

[decommission]

[ He raises both eyebrows, the shield still held up toward her. ]

Well, your throwing arm's not bad. Could say the same about your aim. [ You did peg that Zero Ball player in the back on the head on Concordia. A shrug, and he starts to lower it. ] But if you don't wanna try - [ A shrug. He can go back to practicing by himself. ]