ximilialog | —open log

Entry tags:

—open log

CHARACTERS: Natasha+
LOCATION: various
DATE: post-mission
CONTENT: food, training, manicures
WARNINGS: tbd

Midnight Snack

[Is it really the middle of the night if you're in space? On the other hand, is it always sort of the middle of the night if you've been awake for twenty hours or so? Natasha has the sneaking suspicion it is, but she's not sleeping now either so she might as well be doing something.

Just now, something takes the form of rattling around in the kitchen. Hopefully anyone drawn to the sound isn't hoping for some homemade cooking through. At the moment, Natasha seems to be less cooking and more assembling. She has bread laid out and a knife, and presently she's rummaging through pantries and refrigerators for something to build a sandwich.

She's happy to make two, if anyone wants one.

Don't trust her not to lick the knife, though.]

Morning Workout

[In the training room:]

Interested in going a couple of rounds?

[Natasha stands by the benches dressed for a workout, tank top and flexible pants. She doesn't cut an especially intimidating figure; she's not tall, and while she's more fit than most people might clock at a glance, she's still a perfectly normal, fairly petite woman. A scar peaks out from under her sleeveless top, a bullet wound that's long since healed but left a pale, puckered mark. It's not her only one.

She stretches thoughtfully, not in any particular hurry. She's also not shy as she asks.]

More interesting than shadow boxing, at least.

[She rolls her shoulders, then shrugs.]

Killing Time

[Natasha is a thief. Not professionally, though stealing is certainly within her skill set. Today, the thievery is recreational. Natasha isn't even trying to hide it. She sits out in the common living area with her ill-gotten gains—a stash of nail polish she stole from her sister, Yelena.

Different colors are arranged in front of her. Most of them bright. Some with flecks of glitter or holo flecks in them. It's really quite the collection.

Natasha pushes away some of the neon colors, picking up a few of the more subdued darker or more neutral colors, before settling on a berry red and shaking the bottle.

She'll start painting her nails, absolutely shameless. Anyone who sits nearby might quickly find they become a target.]

Wildcard

[Don't see something you like? Let's do something else!]

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[ Spock had intended to practice his Suus Mahna forms in the quiet space by himself, but when she approaches him, he gives her a thoughtful look. He knows much better than to judge anyone's abilities by their stature, but it still gives him pause. ]

Very well, though I should inform you that my people are stronger than humans.

[Natasha shrugs at that, then nods, still stretching her shoulder. Her eyes do flick to his ears, but she can't say she's bothered by it.]

It's just a spar. I don't think we should have too much trouble keeping things from getting too serious.

[And she has plenty of experience fighting with people stronger than her.]

Just to be sure we're on the same page, when you say stronger than humans, are we talking strong enough to lift a motorcycle or strong enough to lift a truck.

[ He tilts his head, thoughtful for a moment. It's a new question. ]

I do not believe I could lift a truck in any sense of the word. My strength is approximately four times the strength of what you might expect a human of my build to have and I have no problem holding back my blows with control. I merely wished to warn you that my biology is denser than it appears. I regularly spar with humans as I primarily work among them.

[It's relevant. Natasha nods as though his answer is just what she'd expect.]

I think I can work with that.

[Perfectly natural.]

Appreciate the warning, though. That might have been a nasty surprise.

[She shakes her braid back over her shoulder then gives another nod.]

All human, by the way. But I'm used to working with people bigger than I am.

[ Spock's eyes go down the to scar peaking out on her abdomen. Subtlety is for other people. That's a scar that would usually be removed in his time. ]

I had surmised that you are not a stranger to risk.

[ He stands himself, stretching his neck from side to side. ]

Though I do not believe many of the people here are.

[Usually when people look at Natasha that openly, they're not counting her scars.

She's not especially sensitive about it, but it's something to note.]

That does seem like the safe bet, considering the people I've run into so far.

[Some of them from her own world, more from others.]

Not being a stranger to it isn't the same as not being averse to it, though.

[She just happens not to be that latter either, at least not where her physical safety is concerned.]

An excellent observation. Just as experience with violence does not always imply seeking it out.

[ He steps towards the mats. ]

I consider life sacred and dislike violence, but I have learned to fight for the moments when it is necessary to do so.

[Natasha hums wordlessly in agreement as she scratches one ankle with her opposite toe before she follows him.]

And I'd say I prefer my risks calculated.

[And she is, in fact, very good at math.]

Numbers seem okay today.

Then we have that in common.

[ Not that many people like to hear Spock's numbers, but he's very good at calculating and he likes being realistic and well-informed. ]

I enjoy math.

A fighter and good at math. A man after my own heart.

[That is definitely a joke, but not quite making fun of him. It's hard not to be a little amused though.]

I'm ready if you are.

I would not consider myself a fighter.

[ It's an important distinction for him. He can fight and he will where necessary, but he does not want to when it can be avoided and he would much rather disarm than harm.

He takes a ready stance all the same, nodding his head. She is clearly capable and interested in a challenge and he will pull his punches no more or less than he might with Jim or any other capable human. ]

Noted.

[But whether or not he considers himself a fighter, she'll consider him one until proven otherwise.

Natasha takes in his stance in a quick assessment, not familiar but not exactly alien either. It's enough that she can tell he does know what he's doing, and that's enough to get started.

Maybe she'll learn something?

Either way, when she moves, she's fast and sure, doing her best to move in close enough to counter Spock's advantage in reach as she fires off a short, experimental punch at his mid-section.]

[ Spock's style is primarily defensive, avoiding blows where he can and accepting them in the places of least resistance where he cannot. To start, he turns away from the blow, bending down as his arm comes up to take the brunt of the force with the meat of his bicep.

His feet are quick on the mat as his slips away and then comes in with his other arm to try to catch her wrist. ]

[It's an interesting style. Different from most of Natasha's sparring partners. That's not to say that none of them are skilled in defense, but most of them would have taken a more aggressive stance.

Natasha twists, but rather than attempting to escape entirely she attempts to turn the move around on him—throwing herself around his body in an attempt to pull him to the ground in an armlock.

It might fail, but she'll only have the advantage of surprise once.]

[ The move does surprise Spock, who is much more used to fighting the same few people in sparring, and once he's thrown off, it's not hard to get him in the armlock, though he knows he could easily break out of it if he applies enough brute strength. His sparring is usually more for exercise than anything, so he isn't one to put everything he has into it, especially when he's first starting out for the session. ]

Well, you are certainly a fighter.

[ There's almost a rueful quality to his voice, just shy of amused that he's been caught off guard. ]

[The reaction impresses her more than overpowering her would have. Natasha knows more than a few people who could do that. Not to say she doesn't respect many of them, but not for their strength alone.

It takes another kind of skill to keep your cool in a situation like that and learn from it. She's very confident she won't be able to pull a trick like that so easily the next time.]

When I have to be.

[She shrugs as she rolls to her feet, giving Spock some space.]

I'd usually rather not, for what it's worth.

[On the other hand, she rarely shies away from it.]

[ Spock nods, getting to his feet as well. She's good and he's impressed, helped certainly by the fact that she would rather not use these skills at all. There are not many people willing to spend so much of themselves learning a skill they would rather not use outside of friendly workouts. ]

There are certainly times when it cannot be avoided and there are things worth defending in the universe.

And always something that threatens them.

[It never stops. One threat is taken care of, and there's another behind it.

And while violence isn't Natasha's only skill to fight it, it is among them. She figures the best thing she can do with her training is use it for a better cause.]

You want to show me that side step you did again? I liked it.

[ Spock thankfully has had pauses between fighting in his life. He's had the room to focus on science and exploration at times, though he's all too aware that the Federation cannot survive without a willingness to defend what it is and what it stands for. ]

And the knowledge that we cannot always win and we will not always save everything we wish to.

[ He takes the same stance again, ready to go through the motion with her. There are things he knows that humans are simply not capable of, but this is not one of them. ]

I have some experience with that too.

[Voice carefully neutral. She's lost before, and there's been things she couldn't save that she wanted to. That she wished she could.

But that's part of where the math comes in, isn't it? Risks versus rewards.

She goes through the motions again, paying particular attention to how his weight shifts.]

I'm guessing you do too.

[ Spock goes through the move with her before answering, carefully focused on one task and then the other. ]

My planet was destroyed by a time traveler who was angry at a future version of myself for being unable to save his planet from a naturally occurring disaster. We stopped him before he made it to his next target, but the decimation of my people stands.

[Thoughtful of him. She looks up when he says that, studying his features.

He's very matter of fact as he says it, but she already expects he would be saying almost anything.

It's a story that strikes a cord, though. In a way.]

I don't know that I can beat that one.

Loss is not a contest. It simply is.

[ Spock feels it keenly, both the loss of his planet and of his mother who stands out among all the other lost faces for him. He feels it tug at the corners of his mind like a scar when he moves. ]

I'm told humans can become desensitized to it. Large numbers of loss do not share the impact of a smaller number that comes with names and faces.

No, it's not. No one wins in a game like that. But some of us have been known to pretend it is. One way of coping.

[Clearly not his.

She pauses briefly, practicing her footwork as she thinks. Then she adds:]

Where I'm from, a genocidal egomaniac managed to wipe out half of all life in the universe.

When losses are large enough, everyone has names and faces attached to it.

Yes, I would imagine that it would be statistically unlikely for anyone to avoid a personal loss in such an event.

[ He bows his head and quietly adds: ]

I grieve with thee.

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deaddrop - 2022-06-23 04:56 (UTC) - Expand

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