( open ) downtime catch-all

[decommission]

CHARACTERS: Steve Rogers + anyone
WHERE: Station 72
WHEN: Day 168 and forward, I'm flexible with days!
SUMMARY: Training montage and general roaming.
WARNINGS: Will update if needed.

i. TRAINING WING (GENERAL LESSONS AND EXERCISE)

[ It's not the boxing gym. Wrong lighting, too sterile. The inexplicable moment when he craves a cigarette is when he really notices how there's not a room that he's found in the Station so far with even the faded scent of them.

He's here at least once a day. Running, using the lifting machines, sometimes swimming by the end - or floating. His presence is loudest when he's mid-movement, a pulsing spectrum of rushing blood and exhilaration, winding down to a pleasant humming by the time he's finishing up. He doesn't mind a partner, he's glad for it, usually. Anyone willing to teach is even better. ]

ii. TRAINING WING (CLOSED TO SAM)

Take this. [ They're in a far corner of the wing, standing on the mats. What he offers Sam is an aluminum bat and another brief explanation to go along with his slightly longer one involving convincing lines like I don't know my symbiotic ability yet and well, it worked once before. ]

I'm not gonna move. Aim for my shins. [ In his memory there's water, rain dripping down his hood and jacket. A man (a lizard) aims some kind of weapon at his knees. He focuses on that echoing sense of fear, the understanding that there's no way he'll be able to get out of the way in time to save his bones from being shattered.

His body is stronger, but that's not going to be enough on these missions. This is the safest way of figuring this out.

Option #2 was going to involve finding something tall to jump from. ]

iii. REC WING (THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL)

[ All the equipment he finds is well worn already. On the one hand, he can't complain about a mitt that's already been partially broken in. On the other hand - there's still that nagging question of what happened to all the people that this stuff used to belong to.

He finds a space in the wing that's relatively clear of miscellaneous junk and faces the closest wall. The mitt's on the ground, he's playing hitter. Tosses the ball up into the air and gives a almost lazy swing. The impact barely rings against his hands, the ball sailing in an arc to smack against the wall. It bounces back, rolling past him.

There's a small pile of baseballs next to his feet, all in various states of wear and tear. Rather than chase after the first one, he picks up another. Rinse and repeat. ]

Comments

i

[inflori]

[ He gets the rush of blood. He gets excitement, instinct, the want to do more and release excess energy, so maybe that's what draws him to this place when he senses one presence or another where he would otherwise not bother.

Unfortunately he comes with nothing to teach. He's shit with technique but good at brutality, and that will not do them much good when the time comes for a mission that requires strategy. Unless they're going for a boy-shaped bulldozer? Something to think about it.

Anyhow. He walks on in and watches Steve for a while, arms crossed, pinching his brows together. ]

You're skinnier than I am.

[decommission]

[ Concentrated on his task, he barely notices the presence of a newcomer watching him. A voice alone might've not been enough to break through either, it's the comment itself that gets a quick, defensive flare. He finishes another push-up - and continues on, sweat on his brow and his cheeks flushed from the effort of his exercise. ]

I bet you're right. [ Tone distracted, he's not even bothering to glance over.

What of it? ]

[inflori]

So you're trying to build up muscle. Is that it?

[ yes Petre, your obvious questions are so amazing, have your own clapping entourage. Except everybody hates you. ]

Are you afraid to die?

[decommission]

[ That first question is a given. The second gets him to stop in the middle of another push up for a second, but again - he continues on. ]

Nope. But I'd rather not, if I can manage that.

[ It's almost a joke, a dry hint of humor in his tone. Petre wouldn't be the first person to wonder this about him, though most folks tend to keep the question itself to themselves. ]

[inflori]

[ Of course Petre doesn't believe it. Who isn't afraid of dying? ]

That must be why they brought you here. So you could work for them. The longer you survive, the more you can do, right?

[decommission]

[ In truth, Petre's not entirely wrong. It's only that fear of death is secondary to everything else for Steve. ]

You know, I think they would've picked anyone else if they had a real choice. [ It's a distracted, self-deprecating kind of joke. He doesn't actually believe less of himself, he's just very aware that everyone else does. ]

[inflori]

Of course they had a choice.

[ He refuses to believe here just because of - chance. There has to have been something special about him, something that makes him valuable, otherwise what's keeping him from just tearing this place apart and the people in it?

Although. It also means they deliberately did not choose Diana, which angers him immensely. He misses her, he wants her here. ]

You've gotta be useful for something.

[decommission]

[ He lowers himself one last time, sucking in a breath as he pulls himself to his feet, eyeing Petre. ]

I'm here because something came after me in the middle of the night and killed good men. [ A beat, straightening his shoulders. ] I'm gonna find out what it is, and I'm gonna make sure it won't kill anyone else.

[ That's what's important about why he's here. He'll make himself useful. ]

[inflori]

[ If only Petre could feel sorry for that sentiment, if only he could relate. For all he knows he could have been that thing, eating his way through a group of men until only their bones were left. What if the people who saved Petre from his own world have been responsible for saving someone else from him? That'd be a good laugh. ]

You're a vengeful kind of guy. I like that.

[ It's so totally Satan to want revenge, bro. ]

[decommission]

[ His mouth twists. Not the sort of approval he thinks that he wants.

Both arms cross over his chest. ]

What's your name?

[inflori]

I'm Petre.

[ He lips a little lopsided, like he's measuring the older guy. ]

That's European.

[decommission]

[ Both eyebrows raise. ] Steve. Don't know what that is, but I'm from Brooklyn.

[ He reaches out to shake Petre's hand. ]

[inflori]

Then it's American.

[ and there is a not-so-subtle duh somewhere in his tone. He stares at the hand for a bit, because the handshaking doesn't come by him often, but eventually the greeting is finalized. Check. ]

What'd you do before you came here?

[decommission]

[ Fair enough. He accepts the handshake with a firm grip before crossing his arms again. ]

Freelance artist. I'd just enlisted. [ With the army, goes unsaid, along with a dark flicker through the thin link that binds them to the Nest. Barely a memory, not enough to identify.

He points his chin at Petre. ] What about you?

[inflori]

[ 'Freelance artist' doesn't tell him much, though if Steve were to show him his drawings it would draw a lot more interest, if only for the fact that Petre has close to no creative streaks in his bones. The question is then followed by a light shrug, suddenly unsure how he should answer it this time. ]

I was a hunter. Sort of.

[ Not like him to keep it so vague when he's otherwise happy to brag about killing gods. ]

Guess that backfired.

[decommission]

How do you mean? [ And hunter of what?

Maybe an apprentice. ]

[inflori]

[ He offers up a light shrug, like he's either too distracted or careless to properly explain himself. Petre's not even sure he can do it without being offensively blunt. ]

There were a bunch of cities controlled by these assholes that nobody liked, [ writing fiction with his mouth a bit here ] So my sister and I hunted them down. Then people could be free again.

[ Free to have their souls sold to the Devil, boom. ]

[decommission]

Just you and your sister alone? [ He raises an eyebrow. Not that he's getting much context, but it sounds like a hell of a feat for two people alone. ]

[inflori]

... Yeah. Just us against the world.

[ The truth, for once. And it makes Petre feel a little proud of himself, as much as it makes him upset that she isn't here. He hasn't been able to make a lot of friendships here and it's all his fault, but. He can blame whomever he wants!! ]

[decommission]

[ A nod, taking the answer at face value rather than sarcasm this time. Seems like most of them have people they've left behind back in their own worlds.

He glances around the training hall, mouth twisting to one side. ] Feel like doing a lap?

[ Good for clearing your head. ]

[inflori]

[ Steve's question takes Petre away from whatever distracting thought from home he was locked on, eyes set on him with a spark of curiosity. ]

... Do you race?

[decommission]

[ A wry grin, and he starts stepping over to a large section of mats. ] I do now.

[inflori]

[ Yaaaaaaaay. ]

Okay.

[ He follows Steve with resolve, then he just. Stands around, because he hasn't actually raced anyone in a sports context. Usually he just outruns someone when they're trying to not get eaten. By him.

sweats ]