( video | un: jaguar )

[scarcastically]

'Sup, ship mates. You've gotten the low-down from Newt already, Dusty's managing food and Grandpa Barnes is still passin' the buck as always . . . I figured I drop in my stuff too. A while back, I had a few people ask about self-defense classes and training.

And I figured that's useful 'cuz the last mission definitely went hairy and people got hurt. I'm happy to offer up some tranin', sparring or hell, even weapon maintenance or setting you up with some basic gear.

I got the qualifications. Did a stint in MIT, but also did a couple of active war tours 'round Afghanistan and Iraq, was a Navy Seal. Trained in a couple of martial arts disciplines. Ain't too shabby with swords and shields along with guns.

You're welcome to hit me up and we can start training. Skill's the best asset you got and you never know, even with superpowers or magic and whatever, to have an extra edge.

If that ain't your thing, I'll hook you up with some basic flash bombs. No fuss.

Comments

[callada]

And here I was just saying that same thing elsewhere. Good to know it's on your mind too, and probably others.

If you've got the time and the interest, you and I could get started taking inventory of everything and setting aside something like a few mission-ready boxes with generally useful basics. If and when Viveca gives us details again, then we could fill them out with some more specific gear.

[bossily]

It just so happens that I have the time and a passion for organization.

[it's the teacher in her. she just really loves checklists.]

I wouldn't mind meeting now, if you'd like to start taking inventory.

[callada]

Sure. Can't say I've done anything on this scale before, that's usually a quartermaster's job, but I understand the importance.

Not sure how much stuff made it out of the common area and into the labs or food storage after the last order of supplies. Where do you want to start?

[bossily]

Are you used to working on ships, then?

[with the whole quartermaster mention, she's just making a guess.]

Actually, wait. Don't answer that yet. Meet me at the supply drop, and we can see what's still laying around and move out from there.

[callada]

Good call. I'll see you there.

[A commissioned officer sorting gear - the sort of thing that would make a few people chuckle back home, but hell, it needs to get done. And isn't that really what his job is? Doing things that need to get done, no matter what they are. Rank is just a formality for those moments between the real work, moments when he has to drag himself back home and file reports and remember how to wear a uniform.

It only takes a moment for him to turn up, hands in his pockets, cigarette between red-painted lips and head almost brushing the ceiling.]

I take it you're the one going by "stargirl"?