No Pain, No Gain ((Open like an open thing~))
Nate had somehow managed to keep to himself for the majority of the time he'd been on the ship. Quietly observing the other occupants, he'd begun to takes notes. Mental notes of course, since he wasn't quite able to find a recording device of any kind just yet, but notes nonetheless. It seemed that even on the ship there were those whose attitudes made them a liability to the others. There were those that the majority feared, and there were the select few who held themselves above the fray. Or at least, as far above the fray as they could.
The first thing he had noticed, right off the bat, was his poor physical state as compared to many of them. He had never been one to fight or use his hands for anything more strenuous than building. He was a thinker after all, that was what his gadgets were for. However, it was apparent that if he was to survive these 'missions' they all spoke about, he would have to at least be strong enough to defend himself, or get away from whatever it was they were thrown up against. At least, until he managed to build his working suit. Though Stacy it seemed, would not let him keep it with him if he had heard the complaints of the other powered armor users correctly.
Today, he was in the sensoriums. In the month or so he had been on board, he had scheduled his time wisely, ensuring he ate enough of the tasteless slop, and spending hours on end working in the gym and fighting countless enemies in martial arts simulations. He knew he was still no match for many of the others, but he could feel his skill growing, along with his strength and confidence. He should have taken this up long ago.
The room had morphed into a gym and he was slung under a bar, his legs crossed at the ankles as he lifted himself off the ground again and again, counting off every chin-up, resting twenty seconds between sets. Already he was pouring with sweat, but he wiped it from his eyes and took his place below the bar again.
"Seventy-one, seventy-two..." He counted off under his breath.
((Feel free to barge in on him, anyone!))
The first thing he had noticed, right off the bat, was his poor physical state as compared to many of them. He had never been one to fight or use his hands for anything more strenuous than building. He was a thinker after all, that was what his gadgets were for. However, it was apparent that if he was to survive these 'missions' they all spoke about, he would have to at least be strong enough to defend himself, or get away from whatever it was they were thrown up against. At least, until he managed to build his working suit. Though Stacy it seemed, would not let him keep it with him if he had heard the complaints of the other powered armor users correctly.
Today, he was in the sensoriums. In the month or so he had been on board, he had scheduled his time wisely, ensuring he ate enough of the tasteless slop, and spending hours on end working in the gym and fighting countless enemies in martial arts simulations. He knew he was still no match for many of the others, but he could feel his skill growing, along with his strength and confidence. He should have taken this up long ago.
The room had morphed into a gym and he was slung under a bar, his legs crossed at the ankles as he lifted himself off the ground again and again, counting off every chin-up, resting twenty seconds between sets. Already he was pouring with sweat, but he wiped it from his eyes and took his place below the bar again.
"Seventy-one, seventy-two..." He counted off under his breath.
((Feel free to barge in on him, anyone!))