[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!!))
no subject
Not likely.
But Shepard didn't push the issue. There was no need to define the term genocide, or explain how orbital strikes worked, or define the Geth. She stared Lexa down, unimpressed with the outcome. How did this keep happening to her? You try to be nice, and it backfires, like a station populated entirely by angry cats-- or maybe just the one. If the only thing your failures have in common is yourself, after all. Telepathy was supposed to make things easier, not the other way around.
"Don't ask me for a lesson, unless you're willing to take instruction," Shepard said, finally, "If I didn't respect you, I wouldn't have offered. Everybody starts from the beginning. That's how it works."
People think they want pleasure, so they pursue it until they realize what they really want is power. Then they chase that until they find that the real goal is control. Then they continue, pointlessly, until they realize that no one has any control, not really, not over anyone but themselves. Shepard could recognize the signs of reaching the end of her own self-control. So she picked up the rifle she'd left on the bench, and keyed it to fold in on itself, going from a series of elegant curves into the blocky metallic chunk that was its resting state.
"But since you seem to have the time and experience you need for this, I'm sure you can handle the rest of this on your own."
no subject
The past few months have left her far more aware that the civilization she comes from is different. Those months didn't only occur here, but back before she was rescued, before she took that hand to escape. She knows that all too keenly, and what exceptions she makes, she doesn't make lightly. That had been the case here.
"I asked you to withhold your moralizing. Not the lesson itself. I see now that you don't see where you made a mistake." Lexa doesn't care to go on to explain it to her, because she thought she had made it abundantly clear that it had nothing to do with Lexa knowing about how guns function and more to do with the matter of honor.
no subject
Shepard shrugs it off. She's angry, and disappointed with herself-- Shepard has precious few friends in this world, and of them only one she can trust. She misses the easy military framework, where you lived and died alongside one another. She misses being able to give a recommendation and have it be understood for what it was. She misses kindness, misses being able to say how she feels without immediately starting a fight, the way she always seems to be wrong for the task at hand.
"I'll say it a second time. Don't," Her voice was venom, totally changed from the calm steel. Shepard stopped, breathed, and set the block of rifle down; she didn't quite remember picking it up. She was calm again, "Don't project your insecurities onto me. Don't decide for me what I meant. I'm sick of everyone here deciding that we know one other, just because we can pick up each other's god damn moods."
Not that it's a subtle mood, mind you.
no subject
It's this icy wall that helps her keep calm. Maintaining a distance from someone else emotionally is her strength here, and it's what makes it so that she can find a diplomatic balance.
"I decided nothing." The words are careful, controlled, and delivered in such a way that it's clear that there's some purposeful ambiguity to it. Lexa debates over telling her more, or being difficult. That part of her is drawn in two directions. She decides to be diplomatic, however. It seems that Shepard is offering her that chance, and is willing to listen. She at least has to offer up something in return.
"You're simply missing where you made a mistake." That isn't to say that she didn't make one. Lexa won't bend that willingly. "My people never used guns because we were told that we would all be obliterated if we tried. Our enemies kept missiles so that they could show us their power should we ever choose that. And as a result, we were forced to survive with less power than everyone around us. We were kept primitive, so to speak. I feel a great deal of pride for my people and what they've managed despite all this, but you spoke as if you thought I came from a group that was somehow too ... naive, too grounded in foundations of honor, to know what choice I was making."
That's where it was never a matter of insecurity. Lexa feels a great deal of pride for where she's come from and her people, and it felt as if Shepard had begun to utilize the lesson to patronize her for that pride. As if she didn't understand what she did. It's why she fails to see it as a matter of projection. From where she stands, Shepard had done a wrong that many others had already done. Lexa (and her people) usually didn't let that particular slight slide.
no subject
Part of why she liked the Krogan so much, after all.
"And I would have known all this enough to make an insult out of it... how, exactly?" Shepard's not budging either, unwilling to offer lipservice to something she isn't feeling, "Look, your people's situation sounds particularly screwed up, but that isn't anything close to what I meant, or what I think."
She hesitates, moving through the same decision. Shepard wanted to go. But what did the situation need? It used to feel simple. She's been wrong too often lately for confidence. Shepard considers just leaving, considers letting herself begin a more deadly version of this fight. Decides, in the end; just one more.
"I heard that line when I learned to shoot, so if anybody's culture is preoccupied with honor, maybe it's mine. So you can be insulted all you want, but so far as I'm concerned, I'm trying to be your friend."
no subject
"What just happened is a misunderstanding. I never asked to end our lesson. I intended to make it clear that you weren't to speak to me as many have spoken to my people before." But in that, she had lashed out in her cold, distant way, making the circumstances between them all the harder.
Lexa doesn't apologize for the misunderstanding, but then, she figures that she's not going to make amends through apologies in most scenarios. That's where her pride is an issue. Or where she's just plain difficult.
"If you wish to continue, I'd be glad to." Lexa also makes no remarks about friendship, as that would leave her too open, too bare, for someone to see. Intimacy is hard for her, and something that she enters with great difficulty if she acknowledges it.
no subject
Shepard sighs, eyes closed, and runs a hand through the hair at the back of her head. Her amp port is itchy, and she's tired. She's always tired. Suck it up, princess.
"It really isn't that complicated, from here. Just practice. Figure out how the weapon feels, the way it aims. Get the strength in your wrists, not that you'll need much work there," she flaps a hand in the direction of Lexa's more traditional weaponry, "You want advice, shoot it and keep shooting, let it overheat once, so you know the warning signs. Come back tomorrow, practice some more."
Inspiration struck; what would feel good, right now, what would feel really very good, is to blow something completely apart. Shepard looked toward the weapons locker, a speculative glance, and then cocked her head the other way, decision made.
"Tell you what, I'm gonna set up a rifle, do some long-range practice. You see about making consistent hits on the target, I'll show you how to clean that pistol, and we'll call it a day. Deal?"
no subject
"You'll have to show me how to use that rifle later," she adds, sliding back into positioning, remembering the hold that Shepard had on her. It's as much of a statement of going forward with this as they might muster right now, given that more talking is likely going to lead to more difficulties in communicating.
no subject
She could probably stop being an asshole. But that would be a telling sign that she had been subsumed into the nest and replaced with a doppleganger. The gun in question was enormous, heavy enough that Shepard carried it leaning on one shoulder, and it only got longer when she unfolded it. A big, ugly-looking matte black sniper rifle.
She keyed up a target, took her time, and waited patiently for a break in Lexa's own shots. Then she fired. The sound, in the enclosed space, was fantastically loud. The target lost its head and a portion of one shoulder; Shepard frowned. Off-center. Garrus would've laughed at her, if he'd have seen it. She hit the button for a fresh target, lined up another shot, and continued in that vein for a while. It felt good to focus, to do just one thing with all her concentration, and let the rest fall away.
Until Lexa decided she wanted more attention, at least. But let that happen in its own time. For now, only this.