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reverielogs2018-07-01 04:31 am
eraserdad) wrote in reverielogs2018-07-01 04:31 am
Entry tags:
it's hard to say that i'd rather stay awake when i'm sleep [ open ]
» WHO? Aizawa and you
» WHEN? July
» WHERE? Various places
» WHAT? a scruffy not hobo IN SPACE.
» WARNINGS? emetophobia warning for the first prompt
i. don't have your space legs [ anywhere ]
[It's only rational that there would be an adjustment period for any new environment, but Aizawa hadn't quite expected the adjustment to be as much of a physical strain as it's been. The nausea in particular has been trying, to say the least. Usually he's able to Plus Ultra his way through it, so to speak--taking deep breaths and small sips of water as necessary until the feeling eased--but sometimes it gets bad enough that he has to lie down. Now, Shouta Aizawa is a man that can sleep literally anywhere, anytime, but he prefers his room for this particular situation; he doesn't like the idea of being so openly vulnerable. He's normally a light enough sleeper that it doesn't matter, but feeling unwell changes the situation a bit.
One of these times, though...partway through his walk back to his room, the return suddenly becomes a lot more urgent. His stomach churns uncomfortably as his pace grows much brisker, but he's just distracted enough that he doesn't notice the other person walking in the corridor he's just turned down until he's already bumped into them, and that's when "urgent" turns rapidly into "critical mass." His eyes widen sharply, and he barely manages to bark out a--]
Move.
[--before he crumples to his knees and starts retching. Hopefully you moved in time...]
ii. can't miss leg day [ training room ]
[As much as the situation aboard this ship is stressful, it's also remarkably quiet. For someone used to teaching high-school students fulltime while also fighting crime as a professional hero, there is a truly unusual amount of hours to fill in which he has very few productive options to fill them with.
The training room is one such outlet; he finds it within his first few days aboard the ship, and then he makes his way there at least a few times a day. It's not much of a workout, sure, but it's better than nothing. And if someone else happens to come in, happens to seem equally bored by the options in here, he may approach, and ask:]
Interested in a spar?
[The lack of action is already making him feel rusty, and it's only been a few weeks.]
iii. it's 5 o'clock somewhere [ bar ]
[Ah, the bar. Aizawa's avoided it for his first several weeks on the station. He wanted to be prepared in case something happened, and alcohol would only dull his reflexes and reaction time in such a situation. He also, honestly, hadn't been expecting to be trapped this long--but so far there's been no real leads on how he came to be here, where "here" even is, and certainly not how to get back.
Add on top of that the fact that his first attempt to organize things with his fellow space captives had gone poorly to use a generous term, and the increasing activity of the League of Villains back home, the plausibility of their taking advantage of a missing homeroom teacher at UA .... and suffice it to say, he's been a little Stressed.
Normally, when Aizawa's stressed, his coping strategies tend to involve sleeping and cat cafes--the latter of which is unavailable and the former of which is a lot less helpful when it's about one of the only things there is to do at all on this ship. So.
He's found himself here, at this bar, drinking some kind of garbage to take the edge off a little. He doesn't plan to get drunk; he still wants to have his wits about him in case he does need to get into Hero mode at a moment's notice, and honestly, he doesn't need the hangover.
He's perfectly content to just sit here for awhile, doing this, and he doesn't feel obligated to engage in conversation if some other unfortunate space captive happens by to drown their own sorrows. Though if they reach for a bottle that's been set somewhat off the side, he'll interject--]
Don't bother with that one.
[There's garbage and then there's Garbage. Aizawa's not even particularly sure whatever was in that bottle was ever intended for human consumption at all.]
» WHEN? July
» WHERE? Various places
» WHAT? a scruffy not hobo IN SPACE.
» WARNINGS? emetophobia warning for the first prompt
i. don't have your space legs [ anywhere ]
[It's only rational that there would be an adjustment period for any new environment, but Aizawa hadn't quite expected the adjustment to be as much of a physical strain as it's been. The nausea in particular has been trying, to say the least. Usually he's able to Plus Ultra his way through it, so to speak--taking deep breaths and small sips of water as necessary until the feeling eased--but sometimes it gets bad enough that he has to lie down. Now, Shouta Aizawa is a man that can sleep literally anywhere, anytime, but he prefers his room for this particular situation; he doesn't like the idea of being so openly vulnerable. He's normally a light enough sleeper that it doesn't matter, but feeling unwell changes the situation a bit.
One of these times, though...partway through his walk back to his room, the return suddenly becomes a lot more urgent. His stomach churns uncomfortably as his pace grows much brisker, but he's just distracted enough that he doesn't notice the other person walking in the corridor he's just turned down until he's already bumped into them, and that's when "urgent" turns rapidly into "critical mass." His eyes widen sharply, and he barely manages to bark out a--]
Move.
[--before he crumples to his knees and starts retching. Hopefully you moved in time...]
ii. can't miss leg day [ training room ]
[As much as the situation aboard this ship is stressful, it's also remarkably quiet. For someone used to teaching high-school students fulltime while also fighting crime as a professional hero, there is a truly unusual amount of hours to fill in which he has very few productive options to fill them with.
The training room is one such outlet; he finds it within his first few days aboard the ship, and then he makes his way there at least a few times a day. It's not much of a workout, sure, but it's better than nothing. And if someone else happens to come in, happens to seem equally bored by the options in here, he may approach, and ask:]
Interested in a spar?
[The lack of action is already making him feel rusty, and it's only been a few weeks.]
iii. it's 5 o'clock somewhere [ bar ]
[Ah, the bar. Aizawa's avoided it for his first several weeks on the station. He wanted to be prepared in case something happened, and alcohol would only dull his reflexes and reaction time in such a situation. He also, honestly, hadn't been expecting to be trapped this long--but so far there's been no real leads on how he came to be here, where "here" even is, and certainly not how to get back.
Add on top of that the fact that his first attempt to organize things with his fellow space captives had gone poorly to use a generous term, and the increasing activity of the League of Villains back home, the plausibility of their taking advantage of a missing homeroom teacher at UA .... and suffice it to say, he's been a little Stressed.
Normally, when Aizawa's stressed, his coping strategies tend to involve sleeping and cat cafes--the latter of which is unavailable and the former of which is a lot less helpful when it's about one of the only things there is to do at all on this ship. So.
He's found himself here, at this bar, drinking some kind of garbage to take the edge off a little. He doesn't plan to get drunk; he still wants to have his wits about him in case he does need to get into Hero mode at a moment's notice, and honestly, he doesn't need the hangover.
He's perfectly content to just sit here for awhile, doing this, and he doesn't feel obligated to engage in conversation if some other unfortunate space captive happens by to drown their own sorrows. Though if they reach for a bottle that's been set somewhat off the side, he'll interject--]
Don't bother with that one.
[There's garbage and then there's Garbage. Aizawa's not even particularly sure whatever was in that bottle was ever intended for human consumption at all.]
SOUNDS GOOD
Anyway. Sparring against a teenager isn't exactly the most ideal situation outside of combat training or exams, but unfortunately space beggars can't be choosers. Aizawa offers a mild shrug at her question.]
I don't have any weapons available at the moment, so hand-to-hand might be preferable. You can go ahead and use any Quirks you might have, though. [A beat.] Powers.
no subject
I'm not interested in a weighted fight.
[It's not a matter of honor; it's about maximizing her time sparring. Even here, with so little to do, the instinct to cram as much as possible into her days hasn't died yet.]
We'll fight hand-to-hand. [She says it with firm finality, already beginning to wrap her knuckles in preparation.]
no subject
[It's been roughly an age since he's had to fight without his capture weapon, but you play with the hand you've been dealt.]
Do you want to make the first move?
no subject
[She smiles faintly, tucking the wrap up and holding her hands in loose fists.]
I'd rather you did, please. [Gotta figure out how to defend before you can attack.]
no subject
At any rate, Aizawa too would prefer not to take the first move, but he did offer her the choice, so ... here he goes.
Except --
--he goes past her instead of throwing a punch. And if she needs a moment to doubletake over that rather than give chase, it'll give him just enough time to vault backward against the wall in an attempt to tackle and pin her from above.
Look out below???]