open.

[deployed]

CHARACTERS: Bellamy, Murphy + YOU
WHERE: Training wing!
WHEN: Day 0:10
SUMMARY: Bellamy attempts training, Murphy is useless.
WARNINGS: None, but will be updated if necessary.

[ In an open area of the training wing, an array of targets have been set up, a staggered circular around a floor strangely perfectly cushioned underfoot. Varying between standing sandbags, Wing Chun dummies and weighted foam figures in only vaguely humanoid shapes, it's a small field of combatants created to compensate for the lack of a sparring partner.

Bellamy’s stripped to the waist, working his way through the makeshift obstacle course. Periodically he pauses to fuss with the position of a dummy or swing a sandbag out of the way. His thoughts are humming quietly with a handful of specific memories: guard training on the Ark, sparring with Lincoln and the delinquents on the ground, all projecting absently outward. What he’s rigged up is no substitute for the real thing, obviously, but he hasn’t enlisted any of the more viable candidates for this particular workout. And the help he has enlisted has clearly given up on him.

Not that Murphy had tried in the first place. The focus mitts Bellamy had initially attempted to get him to use were abandoned immediately, still discarded on the floor now where he sits with his back against the wall. A tablet retained from Concordia occasionally takes up his attention, but most of the time he's watching Bellamy. He doesn't feature in the images seeping from Bellamy's mind, but there's an atmosphere of familiarity to them sharing the same space like this. They've done this before. And even if he isn't interested in getting actively involved, it's not like it's a bad show. ]


[ OOC: open for tagging Bellamy, Murphy or both; please just let us know in the subject line. Bellamy is open for sparring partners, but Eppy would prefer to handwave any actual combat! ]