voidtreckerexpress | Fight Club Open Log! (Catch-All For the Month of Imagination)

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Fight Club Open Log! (Catch-All For the Month of Imagination)

Who: Open to anyone! Make your own toplevel style~
Where: Training gym
When: Throughout the month of Imagination
What: Training in the gym. Unofficially known as "Fight Club". 47 absolutely does not call it that. But I do!
Warnings: It's a Fight Club! Sorta. Expect (hopefully friendly) violence, maybe some cursing, and whatever else. Free feel to add cw in your toplevels if needed.

Early in the month of Imagination, 47 makes an announcement on the ICP.

From: Training Gym
To: All Carriages

[It's the bald man in a suit again and if you've guessed what he's going to say before he starts talking you've been on the train for far too long like the rest of them.]

[Or come help train.]

[That's all he has to say this time. Short, sweet, to the point. The end. He'll be in the training gym for Q&A for the rest of the day and probably most of the week or until the next mission comes (at least). This is typical for him anyway.]

Make toplevels to your heart's content and tag around to each other freely. Whether your character is offering to teach or wanders in looking for someone to get them involved (or just to watch), this is a post for you! You may use this for any sort of open or even private threads if you so wish.

This log is for anyone who wants to participate in exercising, training, sparring, and teaching lessons. Some of the "classes" also involve things like yoga, meditation, and easier self defense mechanisms for anyone to learn. Magic users also use the facilities to practice their spells! Everyone get use to that crazy lightning storm going off around them as they fight the big bad monster of a training dummy! It's going to happen at some point out in the field, guaranteed!

Basically, if you want to learn new skills that could be useful on missions, come take a peek!

For a basic set-up consider this: the new training gym has all sorts of useful equipment for physical fitness such as mats, soft hand held pads for training with, training dummies, some balancing beams and even a springboard. There are large blocks for making obstacle courses or creating a unique battlefield, and two climbing apparatus next to the wall. Many people are found here daily training, maintaining physical fitness, and teaching others how to handle combat in one fashion or another. Others come and go more sporadically but all are welcome and everyone (typically) shares everything with relative ease. Many of the usual suspects will help accommodate whoever asks for help. Generally, there is just a lot of activity and a busy but fluid schedule around all the equipment and space provided.

[[ooc note: The typical Fight Club open log post has returned! Now condensed into one post with the ic announcement for convenience of yours truly. Here is the original ooc info post which may or may not one day get an update, and here is a list of training/trainers offered up. Feel free to continue to update either post with new character info! Or ask questions if you have 'em!]]

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"I presume you've been on at least a few missions," Zechs said, calm and straightforward. "I was wondering what I should be expecting, generally. As well as understand what we'll have to work with."

"Correct." More than a few. What to expect though was still a hard answer to give. 47 didn't make it seem that way though when he answered with casual ease. "The train does not provide weaponry. It does provide equipment and clothing when relevant to the mission. Red Team typically has aggressive goals: assault on enemy bases, trekking into dangerous terrain to hunt down monsters, fighting large enemies and groups of enemies. If you prefer to accompany one of the other teams then there may still be fighting but less constant or relevant to the mission parameters. They escort or maintain defenses or repair technology or gather information."

He paused to allow Merquise time to digest the information. This wasn't much different than when he greeted people on the platform, honestly, and he was used to giving information about the missions and train life.

"Specifics, if any, will be given out prior to the mission, early morning the day of. Every mission has been different so far. The worlds and stations we have traveled to are varied."

"We seem too few for me to rid the Red team of skilled talent," Zechs said bluntly. "Unless other teams encounter risks they're not equipped to handle - or the intelligence proves faulty - I'll likely stay with Red."

He frowned. "What's the point in assigning us the tasks like those, if they don't arm us? Do they expect us all to have abilities such as ..."

Zechs made a vague nod toward Piccolo, whom he'd spoken with before.

"If most here are like myself, more comfortable when armed ... It's hard to say if the lack is due to incompetence or malice," Zechs said a little gruffly.

"Agreed," 47 said in response to the last of Zechs' observations. He was reminded of Alice for a second, always complaining (rightfully so) about the train's lack of care towards its passengers. Certainly it provided them with plenty of amenities for in between missions to keep them comfortable and occupied, but it could do better in the armament department. The latest addition to the shop was a start but it was a high price to pay for something that should already be provided for such high-stake missions.

"The train's inconsiderate accommodations aside, there are a few laser guns from a previous mission available. Unfortunately, there is little ammunition left for them." Mostly because 47 used it all since no one else seemed so inclined. Their loss, his gain. "If you prefer a melee weapon they're a bit harder to come by without purchasing one or finding one on one of the missions. The practice weapons are mostly wooden."

47's eyes drifted to the Namekian previously referenced. "Unless someone convinces him to help out with creating more weaponry again." Long shot.

"I'm a fairly skilled shot, second in marksmanship in my class," Zechs told him. "I'll make do with the limited ammunition, and otherwise use a melee weapon if I can get my hands on one. I am a good swordsman as well, and there isn't a point in wasting firepower if we're in close enough quarters for a blade."

Just a regular statement of fact. A few years ago, it'd be a far cockier boast, but. He's a different man now. His arrogance was worn like a natural consequence of his skill, instead of something he had to show off at any moment.

His eyes narrowed. "What made him stop?"

"Understood. You won't mind if I watch your skill at a target," he said and it was obviously less a request and more a formality. Before he handed the weapon over he was going to test Zechs on it. It was less about distrust and more about keeping weapons out of the hands of people who shouldn't have them. "Weapons can be stored in the lockers of the armory carriage. Some prefer they stay there whenever we're not on missions or training."

Not that he accommodated. At least not entirely. He had moved some of his gear to the armory but preferred to keep most of his weapons closer at hand. Him and Lightning already had a good thing going in their cabin anyway. A pity the Thunderstorms weren't still with them but the new roommates would just have to cope with their unusual decoration methods.

A pause before he answered the question. "One of the weapons was used in a murder."

"Not at all. It'd be no problem to give a demonstration," Zechs said with a small incline of his head. Only two people on the entire train knew of him or his skill, it made sense - and was reassuring - that he'd be tested first.

He made a small sound of understanding at the explanation of the weapons locker, but he wasn't planning on making use of it unless he didn't have something particularly portable. Useless without ammunition his gun very well may be, he still felt more comfortable if it was on his person instead of placed somewhere anyone could steal from.

Zechs was quiet as he absorbed that. He couldn't help but point out, "Someone determined will find other means."

"Good." The lack of argument was perfect and the confident demeanor of the platinum haired man drew vague interest from 47. He would watch the other man carefully.

Had 47 known the other man's thoughts he would have pointed out that the lockers were impossible to open by normal means unless it was your assigned locker. He would know, he had tried. Not that he would blame the other for keeping his weapon close by. Why wouldn't he? 47 kept many things secret from the other passengers and some things were just safer to keep close.

47 nodded at Zechs' words. "I know." He wouldn't have any problems finding a weapon on board this train. A kitchen knife, a piece of string from one of the musical instruments, even one of the teddy bears from the shop could be used as a means to kill someone in his hands.

He gestured towards one of the tables set to the side where weapons were displayed for practice use. If Zechs wondered if 47 set this up and kept tabs on what was in use and what wasn't, he was absolutely right in that thought. After they walked over to it the trained assassin picked up one of the laser pistols and checked all of its parts. He did this on purpose--showing Zechs the parts of the gun and how it worked without actually saying anything. It was similar to a regular pistol in most aspects so he didn't formally try to teach anything. The biggest difference was the ammunition.

Which 47 pulled out of a bag and pushed inside the gun when he'd finished demonstrating. It looked different from a normal clip and indeed there were no bullets were one to take a closer look. It was something more like a small battery pack that had an indicator on it to show how much of a charge it had left. This one was about half full.

He set the gun back down on the table and indicated that Zechs could take it now.

Zechs followed the other man, and then watched him as he checked over the gun, doing exactly what Rieper hoped he would. They seemed similar to a more traditional handgun, sure enough - but also, like a small-scale armament one would find on a mobile suit. Especially with the so-called magazine that he loaded into the pistol. Much more similar to what he saw, on a larger scale, with his most comfortable weapon.

He nodded to him, and picked up the pistol. Finger left off the trigger, barrel pointed away from anything or anyone he didn't want to hit - he checked over the weapon itself, just confirming. The weight was comforting in his hands. Zechs glanced down the room.

"Those targets there," Zechs glanced to the side, simply checking that nobody was about to wander between him and the targets set up. Then, he focused in front of him. They're stationary, and the room simply wasn't that big.

His first shot was slightly off-center, but he corrected, and the rest hit true to the targets. Simple.

A fine aim. The targets weren't moving nor that far away but an average person who had never shot a gun before wouldn't have had such a nice grouping. It was satisfactory enough that 47 felt confident the man was what he said he was. That, and the fact that 47 watched his every move beyond the actual firing as well and there was just...a tell. The blond had a distinctly refined way of moving but beneath that were the signs of a military soldier.

He nodded at the man once he was finished demonstrating his skill. "I won't ask you to waste ammo. But if you want to continue practicing, that clip is yours." One clip tended to last half of a week's worth of a mission, so long as it wasn't overly used. Clever bit of ammo that 47 quite enjoyed.

"Given the ammo is limited, and so is the firing range set up here," Zechs pointed out, a little blunt, "I don't believe further practice is needed."

However, he did nod politely at Rieper. "Thank you. I'll return the pistol and, if there is any charge left, its ammunition magazine once the mission is completed. Also, if there are any armaments to scavenge, wherever we're sent to - I'll make certain they're available for others in turn."

Not currently using the weapon, he hit the release mechanism for its magazine. Basic firearms safety, really. Casually, he asked, "Military, or private militia?"

47 nodded in return. "That will be appreciated around here." Not that 47 really cared but everyone else would. And... well, if it helped Lightning out then 47 was grateful. And if she appreciated it, well, then he sort of did by proxy.

Still getting used to the whole sharing emotions thing, this one.

47 gave Zechs a blank stare. "Neither."

Zechs' look back was just polite enough not to be a stare, per se - but it was also blank, and largely inscrutable.

Not military, not private militia. Options: Spy. Highly skilled member of an organized criminal organization. Terrorist. Assassin. A very blunt liar about being either part of a military organization or a private militia.

"I doubt our pasts matter here." Zechs told him. So, he didn't really care what Rieper's background was. "But it's good to see there are other people with considerable skill, no matter what situation we're thrown into."

47 nodded in what might have been gratitude for dismissing the background check. It was easier not to have everyone know what he did for a living. While it wouldn't frighten most (of Red Team anyway) it might set some on edge. He didn't need or want that.

Being here was, oddly, one of the most civilian moments in his life that he'd ever lived. It was getting close to one of the longest runs of semi-normalcy, too.

"I agree. Especially for Red Team. It has a small amount of members. It's usually supplemented by others that are decent fighters." But there could always be more competent people around to make things go more smoothly for them.

Considering what Zechs was capable of, and what things he had done? He'd be sympathetic to that sentiment, if only he'd known about it.

It was why he didn't ask, as he was only curious about capabilities, not backgrounds. So long as they behaved themselves here ...

"That's why I'm sticking with the tasks given to the Red Team during the upcoming mission," Zechs reaffirmed. "But I don't understand why any of the tasks would require combat without actually providing us with decent equipment. It seems ... as if whatever had abducted us went to all that effort without caring about how successful or effective we are."

"It's unclear. Either it didn't have the means because it's an impromptu and unintended voyage, or it doesn't know how to completely operate without certain limitations. It keeps adding more options to the store and more carriages as it goes along--either its growing stronger or more conscious." Take that as one would.

Zechs thought through that, and the information he'd already learned from Nita, not to mention some of the data he'd gotten from the printout Tidus gave him. His brow furrowed, thinking it over.

"Conscious could be a misnomer," Zechs murmured skeptically. "Some machine learning programs require a significant volume of data before they produce anything resembling something coherent."

He shook his head. "It doesn't really matter for the mission in our immediate future. If this is some random location, as I've told most of the missions tend to be at, we're rather unlikely to discover anything useful about our prison."

"A self learning AI could explain it," he agreed. A thought he had had in the past since it was a more familiar concept to him than magic and supernatural things. "If it is an AI, it's not a very smart one--or else it's purposefully keeping itself hidden."

Besides, the things that had been revealed pointed more to...something else. 47 didn't have an explanation for it. He'd leave that imaginative stuff to people like Nita and the others. It wasn't something he comprehended very well. All he needed, in the end, was a target. They find that, he would do the rest.

"True. Though what and when we find out information about this whole scenario... tends to also be random."

He'd heard Nita's theories, and while she seemed to believe them - Zechs would require more proof to believe her entirely. Or at least, evidence that her 'communication' actually was productive - how else would they actually know she was truly speaking with the train?

Zechs knew people who talked to their mobile suits all of the time - it didn't mean they talked back.

"Random, or deliberately unhelpful, it's hard to say." Zechs resisted the urge to sigh, frowning. "It's easy when deprived of any intelligence to imagine all sorts of worst-case scenarios about intentions. So I'm doing my best to resist the urge to assume every action is hostile against us."

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Fight Club Open Log! (Catch-All For the Month of Imagination)

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