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(no subject)

Who: Ahsoka + you
Broadcast: Video (fleetwide)
Action: Common area of the Marsiva
When: Afternoon? Evening??

Has... anyone else been having weird dreams lately, or just me?

Also, what do people do for fun around here? This is the longest I've ever been cooped up in one place. At least if there was something to do...

Anyway, I'm sick of meditating. If anyone wants to come chat or keep me company, I'm sitting in the living area. Does anyone know if they have a dejarik board around here? I'm not much good at it, but it's a good time waster at least.

Oh-- right. I'm always up for a spar, too... if you think you can keep up.

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[... Well, she is an alien, so--]

Do you... [slight flounder.] Perceive time differently? Than humans I mean.

[... Or is this more a teenager thing, because he's certainly getting teenager vibes. BUT WHO KNOWS I mean. Come on. #aliens.]

Oh. Hmm. Good question! Not that I know of, though.

[Definitely a teenager.]

I'm just used to being on the move a lot. And being busy. I don't think I've had this much downtime to myself since I was a youngling.

[Suspicions more or less confirmed, but he keeps up a very faint smile as they make their way through the halls. He keeps to the outside edge more out of habit than anything - his Ma instilled it in him young, how if you're walking with someone it's always best to be on the outside, that way you can protect them. Not that there's much to be protected from here, but. It's his nature.]

Nothing wrong with a bit of downtime.

[To him, it sort of feels like the calm before the storm. And he doesn't exactly trust this place or the intentions of pretty much anyone involved in bringing them here for a New York minute.

-- That comment about younglings does get him to look at her askance, and his jaw ticks off to one side. She's already terrifically young, to be asking for sparring partners with the level of confidence she'd espoused. This implication could go any number of ways.]

What's busy look like for you?

[She just shrugs.]

In theory, I guess. But it doesn't feel right, to me. I feel like I should be doing something.

[Master Sinube would say she needs to slow down and meditate more. But she banishes that thought from her mind as quickly as it comes.]

Back home, my galaxy is currently embroiled in an inter-galactic war. Everyone thought it would be over in a few months, but... it's well into its' third year now. I was part of an Order that fought in it, so... there was always somewhere to go, some mission to be on, something to do. Here, it's just... too quiet.

[She says all of this fairly casually, like it's standard. Like she's discussing what she had for breakfast this morning.]

[Sometimes, privately, he wonders if there's any such thing as peace. There's always a War, some are bleaker or bloodier than others. Some are private but no less perilous. Soldiers are casualties, but children are victims. She's describing hypervigilance to a T, and Atroma is listening.

Soft,]

I doubt it'll stay that way.

[Hahaha, what is acknowledgement of mental trauma in the Jedi Order. You must be joking.]

Is it weird if part of me hopes you're right?

At this point I feel like anything would be better than just sitting around.

It's not weird.

[Just familiar, in a way that shouldn't be the province of children. Steve has a singularly unique perspective when it comes to trauma. The thing is, the wound never hurts half so much when it's fresh as when it's healing. If you get out of the fight, you have to deal with the scarring on the soul.

The gym door looms, he hits the control panel to open it.]

Just remember, downtime's a valuable resource as far as self-improvement goes. Staying at the top of your game.

[Ahsoka makes a comically exasperated face, like Steve's words are not new to her.]

Ugh, don't you start. [She busies herself taking off her boots at the door as she enters behind him.]

I'm already meditating like three times a day. If I hear one more person tell me to slow down, I'm going to scream. Seriously. I need to punch something.

[Kind of definitely like looking in a mirror, if that mirror were prone to a reflection that was about a decade younger and from deep space. It's enough to get him smiling faintly as he follows suit with the boots and then goes to take up space at the center of the room.

He calculates: the dimensions, the depth of the mats, the height of the ceiling, any errant equipment.]

So let's see if you can hit me. I'll let you know if I need to stop, all right?

[She follows him over, bowing politely first, then assuming a ready stance.

When she hears Steve's remark, her eyebrows go way up.]

Wow. Someone's sure of themselves. I'm pretty fast, you know.

[That bow gets matched with one of equal depth, and then he lapses into a stance that looks like the bastard lovechild of krav maga and judo. There's no fighting style on Earth that suits him, he's hybridized his own over the half-dozen years he's been fighting.]

I didn't say you weren't.

[Honestly, given the aliens he's dealt with before there's every chance he's looking at getting his ass handed to him. He just doesn't think there'd be any malice in it, and he's learned to trust his instincts on the matter of other people.]

All right then. Don't say I didn't warn you.

[Normally when sparring against an unknown opponent, Ahsoka would wait for the other to strike first. It only seems fair. She's very aware that she's much more likely to hurt someone else than be hurt, so it helps to wait before she can get assessment of their strength and skill level.

But this guy looks approximately ten thousand weight classes above her, so. Even if she put everything she had behind a single punch, she still isn't entirely sure he'd be fazed. So she goes for it.

Her first strike is quick. Not as fast as she can go-- that would just be mean. No, it's still within the limits of normal human speed, just fast. She won't pull her punches, but she won't go all out, either. For now, she's just testing the waters, seeing how much she can get away with.]

Edited 2015-11-23 18:04 (UTC)

[He doesn't fight women offensively unless he has to-- or, frankly, unless Natasha is pushing him into it. It took more than a few sparring sessions to drive that particular point home, but he's also not going to unload on a kid regardless of the gender involved so he sticks to the defensive. When she strikes, he'll block. When she launches herself at him, he'll either dodge nimbly out of the way or use her own momentum to flip her. At first, it's a matter of making sure she'll stick the landing. As he becomes more certain of her skill, he'll stop holding back quite so much, though he'll still refrain from striking her outright.

He has no doubt that the gym is being monitored just as much as the rest of the ship. They brought him here, odds are they already know what he can do and he's not going to do himself any favours playing dumb or pretending weaknesses he doesn't have. In any case, that's not how he does strategy. His resolve has always been a soldier's, not a spy's.

He doesn't break a sweat, but it's a near thing by the time he calls for a stop with one upraised hand.]

Mind if I ask your fighting style? Never seen anything like it before.

[Ahsoka doesn't necessarily go hard, but boy does she go fast. When it becomes apparent that Steve can keep up with her, she speeds up. But you can see the moment it dawns in her eyes that Steve isn't going to strike back. Her body language is well trained not to give away her moves before she makes them, but her face is an open book. Her eyes narrow with annoyance. Her perfect, practiced movements become more erratic and aggressive as they go, trying to illicit some kind of response other than defense.

Nevertheless, she stops immediately when Steve raises his hand. She's not terribly sweaty either, but she is a little short of breath. Finally:]

... I'm Jedi trained. [She says, like that explains everything. Were she not feeling so peeved, she might have given a better explanation. As it is, instead she says:]

What's your deal? I'm not a youngling. Take me seriously.

[Not his speciality, kids with chips on their shoulders. Would she take on the world if she had the right cause? Probably. And Steve lacks Bucky's deft hand. Instead, he shakes his head. He's got her measure-- or as much of it as she's cared to show, and he doesn't think he's wrong.]

C'mere.

[He holds his hands up, and gestures with a toss of his head for her to hit his open palm.]

Hard as you can.

[Her eyes narrow at him again, like she's trying to decide whether or not to take him up on it. It doesn't seem like a joke or a trap, though. So eventually, she decides to take him at his word.

She steps up to him again and throws him the hardest punch she can muster, strengthening her blow with the Force.

It's... not the hardest punch Captain America has ever been on the receiving end of. (That's stiff competition, after all, isn't it?) But it's still certainly harder than a skinny sixteen year old girl's punch has any right to be.

She looks to him then, expectant, defiant. As if to say, "Well?"]

[He's braced for it. Scrawny sixteen year olds that can hit like a truck (or at least a smart-car) are a new one, but enhanced strength and speed aren't, and when you work beside Wanda Maximoff you really start to broaden the horizons of any prior incredulity when it comes to what's 'possible'.

The blow still has a surprising outcome: it makes him take a step back. Just one, enough to shift his balance and readjust for a new center of gravity. When she steps away, he works his jaw off to one side thoughtfully, rubs his thumb across the palm she'd hit. It doesn't exactly hurt, but it smarts. Enough to get his attention.

Had her boots on the ground for three years, hits like there's a wave of pent-up anger lurking just behind her fist, and wants to be taken seriously. Only one way to deal with that, and that's honestly.]

All right.

[He glances up at her, lets his hands drop to his sides.]

For the record, it's not a matter of not taking you seriously. I do. I just have to be careful who I hit and how hard. I don't like hurting people, and we've only just met. [A bit of a smile, crooked and wry but not insincere.] You'll have to forgive me for not wanting to go all-out on a relative stranger.

[Her expression softens; she is being churlish, she realises.]

Well. I suppose I can forgive that.

... So what's up with you, anyway? You're clearly not a Jedi. Or a Sith. But you're stronger and faster than a normal human anyway.

[aHSOKA YOU DON'T JUST ASK PEOPLE THAT]

Edited 2015-11-30 23:31 (UTC)

[And since there's absolutely no sense in hiding it,]

I've been genetically enhanced. Folks back home call me a supersoldier.

[He says it with a very faint shrug.]

[She doesn't even blink. Genetically enhanced soldiers sounds normal to her. She just tilts her head to one side.]

Oh. So you're like a clone?

[He rubs at the knuckles of his left hand, head cocked faintly to one side.]

No. It's probably one of the differences between our-- [he gestures] universes.

[Now she looks confused.]

Wait. So... there's only one of you?

[Ha ha ha ha ha ha.]

Yeah. Take it that's unusual for you?

[If it could work only once-- Peggy's words, once upon a time. He'd appreciated the sentiment for what was meant, and earned his stripes in the War, but he still thinks sometimes about all the lives that could've been spared with more people like him.

After Zola, he's given over to thinking how many more could have been taken, too.]

Well-- yeah. Back home, most of the Galactic Republic Military is comprised of genetically engineered clones. The only non-clone personnel are the Jedi and those ranked Colonel and above.

It saves the civilian population from enlisting or worse-- being drafted. Plus, the clones are all engineered and trained from birth to be fit for battle, both physically and psychologically.

Edited 2015-12-01 07:13 (UTC)

[She says it all so casually, and Steve sort of exhales faintly through his nose. Not his world, not his place, but he knows wrong when he hears it. Everyone deserves autonomy. Trained from birth? Doesn't leave anyone much of a choice. Clone or no.]

I see.

[He does, at least, keep himself from positively radiating disapproval. Instead, he works his jaw off to one side and heads to the side of the gym where the free standing weights take up a portion of the wall.]

Anyone ever ask them how they felt about that?