ten_fwd | Gym

Current Location: Deck 12, Gymnasium

Entry tags:

Gym - OTA

There was a time when Annie was in a gym at least six days out of seven. Ages eleven to sixteen, during her time at the Career Academy (a slightly grandiose name for quite a glorified school club, but it wasn't until Annie was a victor herself that she recognized the self-depreciating humour in the name). Before school and after school, training and training and training. After that, when she was washed out, no gyms, but she kept up the physical activity - and exceeded it, fishing being what it is. As a victor, she ran most mornings, or swum. Worked out. Sparred with Finnick. She'd noticed if she didn't, her mind got worse, her fits of hysteria (anxiety attacks, Beverly had called them) more frequent.

But it's been six months since she's done anything properly physical regularly. When her mood's been stable, she's turned the holodeck into a running track, but that hasn't been nearly anything like five or six days out of seven.

She's twitchy, which goes a way to explain how she winds up in the gymnasium, trailing her fingers over the bo staffs in their rack. She'd been good at spears in the Academy, and although the idea of stabbing now makes her uneasy, she's still good at wielding a staff. She can get her fiancé (tall, built, twice her size and lethal) on his back.

Annie picks up one of the staffs and hefts it, giving it an experimental twirl. It's well-balanced, and she smiles, quiet and shy and delighted.

But despite that delight, and how practically she's already dressed (boots, trousers, simple blouse under her loose jacket, hair braided), she doesn't make any further movements towards any of the practice mats.

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Amy, meanwhile, has been ignoring the gym like it's her job and decided to show up for want of any other distractions.

Annie is very fluid of gesture and movement, and it's enough to keep Amy quiet and watching her with impressed jealousy. She's wishing she didn't skip her last few workouts.

She doesn't notice Amy, not at first. So she stands there and swings the staff. The twirl pauses as she steps back, and she turns it into a swipe, as if at someone's knees. Another twist and a thrust, angled up due to her shortness but aimed at a hypothetical forehead.

She's been using a spear and harpoon to fish since she was a good, and they trained her since she was eleven in more lethal things. Her glassmaking is where the graceful twirl comes from: she knows what she's doing and it shows.

At least until she notices Amy. Then she startles, her movements suddenly stuttered until she stops.

"Um," she begins. "Hi."

"Oop, hi!" Amy pushes her hair nervously back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare." She nervously steps back.

"It's, it's okay," Annie says. Just as nervously. More shy than anything else. Probably more shy. There's a bit of self-directed frustration: she's not good enough at this where it counts to let people know she can do anything.

(...the habits of home are, perhaps, kinda hard to break.)

"I was just...I lost track of things. Didn't notice you."

Amy's reaction to her shyness is an to stand up a little straighter: she doesn't want to seem threatening. "It's okay, I promise - It's just been so long since I've been to the gym."

Her expression suggests that she knows it's a lame excuse.

"All right." Her tone is soft, and not quite believing - but in the way where she'll go with it for social niceties and to try and make it all less awkward. She holds the staff in both her hands, lets her arms hang loose.

"It's, uh. Kinda interesting gym anyway. Different from the ones in my country. Or. My world." Or her time. It's complicated.

"Tell me about it, there's nothing like this back in Brooklyn. And I guess anywhere else in the galaxy." She shakes her head. "My name's Amy, by the way."

"Annie Cresta." And then, despite how her accent is mostly Mexican, a little bit Texan (or something close to those), she frowns a little.

"Uh, Brooklyn? Is that your world?"

"Yeah." Amy flushes slightly, forgetting that in some worlds Brooklyn just plain doesn't exist yet. "If you have anything that's up north and like a big city, thats what Brooklyn's like in my world."

Her first thought is 'the Capitol', but then, 'north' could just be referring to location. And City One, the capitol of District Four, is big for a district city. Or, so she gathered from her Victory Tour.

"Ohhh, okay." She grins, quickly. "Cities are like that. You kinda forget there's anythin' outside 'em. Or. Outside your country.

Do they have spaceships? In your world?"

"New York is like that. PEOPLE from New York are like that," she adds, then nods. "But they're nothing like this, not even our space stations are."

Before Annie can ask, where's New Work, Amy keeps talking and Annie pauses.

Space station?

The trouble is, 'station' is a word that can mean all kinds of things. Research station vs train station, neither of which help her work out 'space station'.

"What's a space station?"

"A big place where astronauts from different countries hang out together and do experiments." Which is the most basic way to put it; Amy's knowledge of space stations doesn't extend too terribly far. "Do they have space stations where you're from?"

Thankfully, she's read about astronauts by now, and she's heard about different countries. The ideas are both still very strange for her, though.

"Uh, no. We don't even have satellites, actually."

"Oh! Are you from the eighteenth century?"

Amy knows Q's zapped up people who're from an earlier time period before.

[OOC: Heading to bed! Will pick up in the evening]

"Um."

Annie lets go of the staff with one hand to rub at her forehead, awkward and trying to think at the same time.

"As far as I understand earlier timing conventions and dates, no. I'm actually from the future. Or. A future. Things kinda got...

Bad. For a bit."

To put it very, very, very mildly.

[ooc: sleep well!]

Amy winces. She can tell she's kind of inadvertently hit a sore spot here.

"Ohh. I mean, I don't know what happened but I'm really sorry things are like what they're like back home. I think?"

...Amy Santiago: awkward turtle.

"Thank you," Annie says, and if her smile back is also awkward (for Amy is in very, very good company here), it's still genuine.

"Um. But it's just a future, I think. For most folk. Might not happen. It's kinda weird, though. I mean. We don't have spaceships, and from what I've heard people sayin', that's expected from you guys? Do, do you have stories like that?"

She nods. "Time is really, really weird here. I've met people who're from a hundred years ago, and people who're from a hundred years inthe future. And yeah, we do."

Amy won't mention that the Enterprise in particular is a fictional story where she comes from.

"What's it like?" She pauses, realizing she's not being clear. "Um. Now seeing things that you just heard in stories?"

"Totally amazing," she says. Amy feels like she can't emphasise that enough, honestly. "What's it like for you, seeing things you've...never ever heard about?"

"It's...."

She's silent for a moment, a long one. A little too long, perhaps, but she's visibly trying to sort through her thoughts.

"Overwhelming, sometimes. But it's..." She laughs, a little. "Amazing. Like you said. I thought...sailing in the stars only happened in children's stories."

"We're lucky we get to live it," she smiles. "Not many people ever get this chance."

"No," Annie murmurs, "they don't."

If her expression is sad, it's only for a moment before she shakes her head, looks up, smiles.

"Anyway. I'm thankful for it. But, uh. I should probably be getting back."

Amy cringes a bit, noting the expression on Annie's face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..uh...okay! Don't let me get in the way!"

Cue all the nervous and awkward laughter and the backing out of the way.

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treadswater - 2015-08-07 11:30 (UTC) - Expand

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makesbettermouth - 2015-08-07 20:55 (UTC) - Expand

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