Ready for a fight...

[knightexemplar]

Nothing drained frustration from the body better than a valiant battle. Unfortunately, what Arturia was left with was neither valiant nor a battle. In fact, it looked a lot like a girl hitting a chair with the remnants of what had once been a standing lamp in the middle of what had been labeled the sparring room (though how it could be a sparring room without actual weapons left Arturia at a loss). The staves already in the room were not of an acceptable height to substitute a spear, hence why she had felt the need to destroy the lamp. If one was truly curious enough to check the adjacent recreational room, one might note that one of the high backed metal chairs and one of the tall standing lamps was missing.

The girl also just longed to hear metal clashing against metal. This wasn’t something she was going to achieve with the flimsy bamboo swords and practice dummies.

Furthermore, if the station felt the need to kidnap people, the former king felt no shame in destroying some of the tacky futurist furniture. As an aside, Arturia also felt that if the furniture wasn’t meant to be moved, someone should have secured it to the floor. Clearly it was inexpensive, considering how easily the high backed egg shaped seat had dented when it fell over. It hadn’t been too terribly heavy either and the girl probably scraped the floor directly outside the room when she’d dragged the chair over. That had actually been the easy part, taking the lamp apart had taken some skill.

As much as Arturia wanted to bash the lamp into the wall until the pieces she didn’t need shattered or fell out through the center of the pole, she relented. Instead she spent time unscrewing the shade, light bulb, lamp and base until all that remained was the 5 foot center pole. A fine makeshift practice spear, not her best weapon but it was far better than having nothing to vanquish that chair with.

That had been a few hours ago and Arturia had since taken her shoes off. Sweat had already soaked into the hooded jacket she wore (with that odd mobile thing in the pocket). She paused briefly to drop the jacket to the floor and wipe the sweat from her eyes with the back of her hand. This is exactly where she felt at home: fighting with a weapon in her hands.

Her movements were controlled and brutally efficient. Her knights were often surprised she didn’t utilize spears more often on the battlefield. With her short stature, they definitely gave her an edge over taller opponents but nothing felt more comfortable in her hands than a sword. Sir Ector had started her young in her training, knowing full well that she would eventually be king. She would often joke with Lancelot that she knew how to handle a sword before she learned to walk.

The thought of the Knight of the Lake brought a sad smile to her face. He had utterly destroyed himself because of her. Even their final battle in the grail war had been a right mess and had his master not fallen, Lancelot would have killed her. Fate was often cruel and that moment had solidified her resolve to erase her mistakes.

All this thinking and she still managed to attack her opponent. Sir ugly chair. She spun around hitting the base of the chair with the bottom shaft of her makeshift weapon; a loud clang filled the room as she turned again, this time going for the killing blow. “Hah!” She went in for a strait strike at the chair’s center, lifting it slightly. The chair was lifted off the ground a few inches before teetering backwards and rolling onto its side and sending the cushions scattering over the floor.

Her labored breathing was a clear indicator that the workout had been a good one. She surveyed the chair a moment, resting lightly on the pole. “Well, I feel you won’t be offending the living area any longer.”

Well, if this was the only opponent she would have, the woman might be doomed to perish of boredom.

Comments

[shepard]

After breakfast with Bashir, Shepard spent her morning in the training room sparring. Normally, the training room she frequented (and there were several on the station) was empty at this early of an hour. But such wasn't the case today.

The doors to the training room whiir open just in time for Shepard to catch sight of Arturia sending blow after blow into the chair. Shepard watches with interest, until the woman stops.

"There's probably better opponents on the Prosperina than a chair," Shepard says as she approaches one of the weapon stands. She takes a bamboo sword from the stand, then turns to face the blonde.

"I think I my workout could use a change, if you think you're up for the challenge."

[knightexemplar]

Oh, ho! A challenge. From a real person. This was most definitely something the girl wouldn’t turn down. She turned to face the other woman, a small, almost cocky smile touching her features.

“I was under the impression that there were not many occupying,” a pause, “wherever here is.” She abandoned the lamp and rolled the fallen chair out of the way, “Glad to see my assumption was false.”

She then draped her jacket over the chair and started toward the rack of training weapons, “We shall see who makes the better opponent.” Her tone was playful as she was referring to the comment on the chair, "What is your skill level with a blade?"

...Well, not actually a blade in this case. She assumed the station wanted to keep them all unharmed in their stay. Utterly obnoxious if an enemy found themselves on this ship.

[shepard]

Arturia isn't the only one who was aching for someone to spar with. Shepard had tried to encourage Bashir to submit to training for his own benefit, but little had come of it. Arturia, it seemed, was just as tired of dueling with chairs as she was with punching bags.

"Not many," Shepard admits, shifting the bamboo sword in her hand. "But there always seems to be new arrivals. There were fewer of us a month ago when everyone first found themselves aboard the station."

Shepard holds the sword out in front of her and takes the same fighting stance she'd take for hand-to-hand. She's sure she should be in a different position for swordfighting, but there wasn't much call for swordsmen in Citadel Space.

"Not much," Shepard admits. "I'm better with a gun or my fists. Never had the opportunity to learn much about swordfighting."

[knightexemplar]

The chair didn’t offer much in the way of conversation, either. “Has anyone offered an explanation as to why, precisely, we’ve been brought here?”

That was really the root of the mystery here, or rather, where was here and why everyone had been kidnapped. Everything else seemed to fall in line after that but the one commonality did give everyone something to talk about.

“Hmmn,” The sound caught in Arturia’s throat as she studied the other woman carefully. Her skill level with a sword was clear the moment she took a fighting stance. She pursed her lips, quietly thinking before leaning her own practice sword against the rack. “I would say that you have never held a sword before.” Her voice held a lilt of amusement.

She could respect someone who fought with their fists but she wasn’t one for guns or long range weapons. Kiritsugu had fought other Master’s with guns and she found it quite distasteful.

“Your foot placement is acceptable but…” she moved close the red head, lightly touching her elbow, “your hands are not. You need to move your elbow down and point the sword at the ground.” This was the “Fool’s” stance, a good one to start a beginner with and generally the first Arturia taught to squires. “This will let you move into a defensive or offensive stance.”

She moved back a step, “What is the Citadel? Your fortress” and back in again, this time bringing the woman’s arm out and across her chest, forcing the sword more at a diagonal away from her. “Keep this part of your arm closer to your body,” the woman was referring to the upper arm.

Arturia moved away from the other woman to pick up her own practice sword.

[shepard]

"Unfortunately, no. We haven't been able to figure it out for ourselves and whoever brought us here obviously doesn't see it fit to let us know."

And Shepard, like most of the space station's new denizens, wsa eager to get back to her rightful place and time as soon as possible. Knowing why they were here would make it easier for them to figure out how to get off.

Accomplish the goal and you could go home, right?

"You can tell that by just a glance?" Shepard asks. The tone of her voice isn't skeptical; in fact, it sounds like she's impressed.

"You'd be right," she says. "The sword is not really the weapon of choice for most people in my time." Shepard wonders where this woman could possibly be from, if her forte lay in swordfighting.

Shepard lets Arturia guide her hands and elbow into the proper position. The sword is directed to the ground.

"Not quite," Shepard says, with the hint of a smile. "It's a space station, kind of like the Prosperina. Except larger. A lot larger, actually."

Shepard's arms shift as Arturia moves them so the sword is slanted at an angle away from her. She doesn't speak again until Arturia maneuvers across from her, practice sword in hand.

"Ready?" she asks.

[knightexemplar]

The fact that she’s trained many knights of various levels of skill lent itself to being able to gauge swordsmanship before a battle began. “One can gauge much of the skill of an opponent simply by the way they hold their weapon.” A fact that had, on more than one occasion, saved her life.

“Ah,” Realization dawning on her, another person from the sky. It still wasn’t a concept she fully understood beyond it being a similar situation to the one they were in now, “the concept of being in, ah, space, is still a foreign one to me.”

She moved into a position of her own, with her sword held at eye level and her feet squared and in a wide stance. This was definitely more defensive, “I would say always but it is considered a grave insult to enter a duel without an introduction.” She dropped her shoulder slightly to ensure the sword wasn’t blocking her features, “I am Arturia Pendragon.”

The smile on her face was one that only battle brought, a mix of anticipation and excitement.

[shepard]

Unfortunately, it was more difficult to tell the skill level of someone holding a gun. Even the most unskilled generally knew how to hold the weapon properly, even if they couldn't aim or reload with any level of skill. Only those holding a weapon for the first time really gave themselves away.

Which technically, was probably why she was given away so easily.

"If you're not from a space-faring civilization, when and where are you from?" Shepard couldn't imagine how strange it must be for those who hadn't traveled in space before now to find themselves cast among the stars. Waking up aboard the Prosperina was surprise enough; she's not sure how she'd handle what others would consider ultra-advanced technology.

"Commander Jane Shepard of the SSV Normandy." Though her title had no real bearing here, she still gave it, if only by habit.

And after introductions are exchanged and Arturia falls into position, Shepard gives her a nod of the head -- as if to signal she was about to begin her attack.

And so she does. She swings forward with brute force, though her swing lacks both grace and agility. When it makes contact with Arturia's sword, she pulls back suddenly, as if in preparation for a counter-attack. She attempts to replicate the stance Arturia was in a moment before, but it comes across as awkward and clumsy in comparison to the swordswoman.

Shepard can't help but feel a little excited at the prospect of a fight herself.

"How long have you been aboard the ship?" she asks. She sidesteps, once and then twice again. If gun battles had taught her anything, it was that you kept moving.

Whether or not this actually applied to swordfighting, Shepard didn't know. But she sure as hell knew that a target in motion was definitely harder to hit.

[knightexemplar]

“I hail from Briton,” she remembered a conversation with Sir Bashir and added, “Ah, on Earth. I believe from around six twenty.” Date tracking hadn’t been a priority in her time so it was a bit of an estimate. “Magic is more prevalent in my world than science is in the homelands of others, apparently,” a fact which she was quickly coming to after only having met 2 people here.

She deflected Shepard’s attack with ease, the woman was definitely strong. “Commander?” she briefly wondered if this woman led an army, “In the military? Did you have your own army to command?” That was something Arturia could definitely relate to, “And is this ‘SSV' Normandy in any way related to France?” The letter designation sounded strange coming from her lips. She hoped the woman was in no relation to the Francs, they were an unbearable annoyance on her borders. Apparently they continued to be a bother to Britain long after she had vanished from Avalon.

Ah, the things that never change.

“Drop your left shoulder,” this after she saw the other woman replicating her stance, “And keep your elbows tight.” All of this as she swung her sword in an upward arc, something simpler to deflect. Her next move was going to be swinging around and aiming for Shepard’s back leg.

“Not long, days I believe. It is difficult to gauge time without the sun. I gather you have been here for an extended stay, yes?”

[shepard]

Magic? Then that meant that whatever Britain that Arturia was from was definitely not the Britain she knew back down on Earth.

"I don't know if you would call it an army," Shepard said, smiling almost fondly. "But I command a spaceship -- that's the SSV Normandy."

A beat.

"No relation to France," she adds quickly. "I'm Alliance military and the Alliance represents all nations, including Britain and France."

Shepard follows the woman's commands, though her stance is a little stiffer than it should be. The first attack was easy enough to deflect; the second hits its target. Though Shepard grimaces in pain, she doesn't let it slow her down. She moves to attack again, sucking back the pain of the sword's impact.

If her attack doesn't hit, she'll quickly follow it up with a second one.

"The communicators give the time and the date," Shepard says. "Did you get one after quarantine?" She certainly hopes so; they're pretty useful. "I've been here for just over a month. I arrived here with the first wave. There were others here before us, but they were gone when we arrived."

[knightexemplar]

Technically Arturia was bound by magic as Saber and held to a corporeal form with it, this didn’t seem to be the case here.

“I don’t have a frame of reference for the number of troops that would entail,” Smaller than an army, a platoon maybe? “How large was your team?”

She also couldn’t imagine a time where Britain and France were friendly. She found it difficult to believe when she had been pulled into the 4th grail war just as she did now. Maybe some things can change, or they just had a larger enemy to attack. She would have to look into that.

The first attack doesn’t hit, Arturia deflected it and followed up with an attack of her own, which left her open to Shepard’s second attack. A stinging pain follows up the hit and a slight wince touches her features, “Excellent hit.” It was not an empty compliment.

She took a few steps back and moved into another defensive stance, this time with her sword at her waist. “Communicators…” She trailed off, thinking a moment. Ah! The small plastic mobile device. She wasn’t quite sure how to utilize it, “Yes, it was in my room. I am not sure I know how to use it, though.

She motioned over to her jacket with a tilt of her head, “I assume it has a function to make it work but I have not surmised it yet.” A beat, “People here before you? How long ago and where did they go?”

[shepard]

Shepard's building up a sweat. Unlike a boxing bag, a human opponent is actually a challenge -- one that the commander welcomes.

"50 if you only include Alliance personnel." Which Shepard generally does not, though that was the number Alliance brass expected her to give when talking about her crew. "54 if you don't. Six of those regularly accompanied me during ground missions."

Shepard slowly circles Arturia, her own weapon readied in the same defensive position as Arturia, as if bracing for an attack.

"If you want, I can show you how to use it after this. It's useful to have on hand; it's the easiest way of communicating aboard the Prosperina. If something happens, you'll want to make sure that you have it on you."

In short, it was important that she knew how to use it -- even if she had no interest in it otherwise.

"We don't know," she says. "We found some of their belongings that we left behind. Judging from the look of things, whoever they were, they've been gone a long time."

It's clear at this point that Arturia is not going to make the next move. She swings her weapon again, hoping to make contact with the other woman's sword; the motion is clumsy, but there's a marked improvement now that she's made a few swings. The weapon is no longer as awkward in her hands.

Shepard presses down, hoping to knock the sword from Arturia's grasp.

"We don't know where they came from or where they went. We just know they're not here anymore."

[knightexemplar]

Arturia was going rather easy on Shepard, her movements were trending toward effortlessness. The short time she’d been working out with the woman was definitely more than she’d gotten with the chair.

“That is quite a platoon,” it was impressive that such a small fleet would be needed to run a space vehicle, “And they were not bothered that you were a woman?” That was the one thing she could have never done: Lead her people honestly and as a woman. They would not have listened and this was always a disappointing fact.

The knight did nothing more than turn her head as she was being circled, had she been wielding her actual sword, she needn’t even do that. Patience was key.

“That would be lovely,” this as she swung her sword over her shoulder to block the practice blade. Arturia catches what Shepard is doing and slips her grip, pressing closer to the other woman so the bamboo hilts are nearly locked. Her goal however, is not precisely the same as the other woman’s. She twists the sword in an attempt to turn Shepard’s strength against her and gain possession of the other woman’s sword.

“That is worrisome,” an entire crew vanished without a trace, what’s to say the same won’t happen to each of them? “We cannot be sure the same fate won’t meet with us at the end of our journey.”

[shepard]

Shepard raises a brow at that -- though if Arturia was from when she really said she was, it shouldn't have been that much of a surprise that she might think that way. "Being a woman has nothing to do with how I command," Shepard says, attempting to keep her blade locked with Arturia's; the effort is short-lived, as the blonde twists the sword out of Shepard's hand, sending it spinning out of her hands and scattering to the floor.

"The only thing that matters," she says, approaching her downed bamboo stick. "Is that I'm capable of leading competently. Who I am -- or what gender I am -- has nothing to do with it. There are plenty of men who are far worse leaders than I am." She lifts the bamboo stick back into her hands and shifts back into the defensive position Arturia taught her a few minutes ago. Her posture looks far more natural now than it did before.

"It's possible that they managed to get off the Prosperina and return home," she says as she circles Arturia. "In which case, I wouldn't mind that. But if it was something else, I want to be ready for it."

[knightexemplar]

“I would agree completely,” Arturia’s attacks were becoming less light-hearted and flashy, adding a bit more of the efficiency she had demonstrated with the chair. “However, the will of the people is not always that of their ruler.” Here she was referring more about herself than her opponent. “If the people believe a woman cannot hold a sword or command an army, what’s to dispute that fact if they never let her try?”

She sent an attack high then faked a jab low and went for Shepard’s midsection, “It is good to hear in where you are from that this is not the case.” Her words were genuine. “Watch my feet, my shoulders and hips, your opponent’s body will generally betray their attack before they swing.” Granted, watching Arturia’s shoulders would be pointless. The woman guarded her movements carefully until she was attacking and she transitioned between attacks with fluid motions.

“A clumsy opponent will tell you everything you need to know without ever saying a word,” another flurry of attacks came at Shepard, first high then low, aiming at her legs again.

Arturia very highly doubted that anyone got off this ship because they were let off, she had no trust for something that would kidnap people from their homes, “That is an optimistic viewpoint but if they were kidnapped as well, what is to say the ship did not dispose of them when it was done with them? I am not willing to toss aside that this situation has malicious intent for everyone involved”

[shepard]

"I get the feeling you speak from personal experience," Shepard says. "Are you military too?" It would probably explain why she got to be as good as she was with a blade -- and it might explain her less-than-optimistic view on women in the military.

Shepard follows Arturia's orders. Her eyes moves away from her opponent's face and towards her body -- but Arturia's arms don't ever signal when she's about to launch an attack. All Shepard can do is hope that she's fast enough to avoid the assault.

She's able to block some of Arturia's hits; others, she just barely manages to move out of the way. There are plenty of blows that hit their target -- but even despite this, Shepard does not acquiesce. Even if the blow manages to throw her off position, she steadies herself quickly and prepares herself for another attack.

Even if that attack hits its mark again.

"I don't know," Shepard says, circling Arturia again. "Maybe whatever brought us here brought them here with a purpose in mind. And maybe they fulfilled that purpose." Shepard isn't entirely ready to discount the possibility that they might be some huge scientific experiment -- but she's not ready to give up all hope, either.

"Like I said before, we need to be ready for anything. Good or bad. Eventually, we'll know why we're brought here. And there's no telling what will be expected of us when that time comes."

[knightexemplar]

“In a way, yes,” this was definitely turning into quite the workout. Arturia enjoyed sparring against the other woman, she was picking up the basics with haste, and “I was a king. All of my country’s military forces were mine to command.” A fact which added to the woman’s prideful nature, “My gender should have never been an issue and I never thought it to be when I rode with my men into battle.”

Arturia dropped her shoulder slightly, signaling a low attack but mid swing it became a jab aimed at Shepard’s midsection, “I am a warrior first and foremost.” This woman was very resilient and had most definitely earned a great deal of respect from the King of Knights. She was an excellent student as well.

“What purpose could we fulfill here? It seems strange to pull so many of varying backgrounds into one place without an inkling on what we are to do,” she took a careful step backwards, “I do not know if I would be a willing participant if this ship dictated expectations. It all seems a tad ominous to me.” She’s given up on assuming this was a grail war but… “Maybe we are all expected to fight one another and we are simply being held here until we arrive at an appropriate arena.”

[shepard]

Shepard's breathing is heavier now. Running and gunning is one thing, but swordfighting required considerable more strength and agility than a few shots with a pistol. She watches as Arturia's shoulder shift; Shepard moves her sword to meet the blonde's, but it's much lower than the sword falls. Shepard brings her sword upward, and it only barely meets Arturia's; the force behind the knight's blow sends Shepard's sword scattering to the floor for the second time since practice began.

It's then that Shepard knows that she's done.

"Good fight," she says, extending a hand out to the woman to take.

"You're right," Shepard says, taking a seat on a bench near the wall. "Gender shouldn't matter. The only thing that should matter is a person's ability to lead and lead well. Who you are or where you came from shouldn't even factor in the equation. A long time ago in my reality, things were like that, too; people judged others based on their gender, on their beliefs, on their sexual orientation, on the color of their skin. But things changed and they're a lot better." First contact probably helped a lot with that, though, "Hopefully, things will change in your reality, too."

Shepard takes her towel into her hand and begins to dry off her sweat-drenched tresses. "Do your men know you're a woman?" Arturia's bitterness regarding her gender -- coupled with her use of the title 'king' leads her to believe this might not be the case.

"Not everyone aboard the station is good at fighting," she says, thinking specifically of Bashir and Abed. "So I really hope that's not the case."

[knightexemplar]

A small smile touched Arturia’s lips, this was an excellent fight and she was definitely pleased with the progress the other woman had made with the swordsmanship. She would have to teach her how to watch for false movement next time.

“No,” she waved a hand before taking the other woman’s hand “An excellent fight. You learn quickly.” With a small nod she released her hand and retrieved the fallen practice sword to return it to the rack, “I I train here daily and would not mind the company. I can continue these lessons if you feel it would be a benefit to you.”

She brushed away the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Feeling sweat trickling down her back she suspected the back of her shirt was a bit of a mess. Her thoughts returned to the conversation at hand.

“That is pleasant to hear,” and her words were genuine. She wished as much from her people but changing a mindset was something that took time, more time than a single ruler could have on a throne, “I do not think a mindset is something that can change quickly and I know it is better in the future but I also know it took centuries for movement to occur.” It was something she had learned when coming back for the grail war. “I also believe there are still pre-conceptions in the minds of the people,” she added thoughtfully before moving back to Shepard’s other question.

She offered a small shake of her head, “No, they do not.” It was her one lie, her one dishonor as king, “It was a secret that only a select few were privy to. I went to great lengths to hide my identity and asked others to do the same.” A pause and a small frown, “It wasn’t a fair thing of me to do and reflecting back on my life I suppose there is much I could have changed about the way I ruled.”

She referred to herself and her kingdom in the past tense, only hinting that she had disappeared (or rather nearly died). She had many regrets about the way she ruled and concealing her gender wasn’t top on the list.

Arturia crossed the room to pick up her sweatshirt shifting the conversation to the others on the station, “I believe our thoughts on that are the same. I will vow to protect whomever I can if this ends up the case.”

She took a seat next to Shepard, pulling the communicator out of the pocket of the jacket before moving it to the side of the bench. “Do you still have a few free moments?”

[shepard]

"I had a good teacher," Shepard returns. The challenge was definitely welcomed -- especially after weeks of sparring solo against boxing bags. While Shepard doubted that sword fighting would ever come in handy in her own reality, it was entirely possible it would come in handy here. And at the very least, it would give her a better workout than she was used to.

"You have a specific time that you're here?" It sounds like Shepard's up to taking lessons, if Arturia's up to teaching them.

But then the subject segues to something far more serious. "It is going to take time," Shepard agrees. "But there's no way anyone's going to change their mind if they don't see competent women in power." It's probably easier said than done; Shepard can't imagine outing oneself as a woman in her time would be easy to do.

When Arturia sits next to her and pulls out her communicator, Shepard tugs out her own. "This is the power button," she begins to explain. "It's probably the most important button on the device..."

Shepard's explanation starts with the basics: about keeping the communicator charged, about powering it off and on, about checking messages and calling others. Once it seems that Arturia has a grasp on the basics, she moves on to less important topics: changing the melody the device emits when one receives a message from a specific person, playing the preloaded games on the device, adding specific words to the device's autocorrect function.

If there's anything that can be said about Shepard, it's that she's a patient teacher.

"Need me to go over anything else?" she asks, looking over at Arturia once the lesson is done.

[knightexemplar]

“Many thanks,” this said with a small, polite nod. She knew she was a good teacher, if not a harsh teacher. Many of her students generally went home with bruises so maybe she had gone easy on Shepard. “Perhaps we can work on other things, outside of sword tactics as well,” she was not opposed to hand to hand combat either. Her strengths didn’t lie there and she felt it would e beneficial as well.

“Even if that was something I could change, it would destroy my country.” Her lips pursed into a thin line, her people didn’t trust her any longer. The cold and distant king was too far from her people, she didn’t understand them, and she didn’t understand their suffering. These were their feelings and this is why they had turned away from her and to Mordred. It didn’t matter that the claims were false. “I do not regret my decisions as king, my country is far more important than my own happiness,” she waved a hand as if to brush the situation off as nothing, the forced smile touching her features betrayed that it was more than nothing.

She changed the topic away from her past, focusing on the communicator and when she arrived to train. “I am usually here when I arise. I suppose an exact time will be easier to determine with this,” she motioned to the communicator.

Attentive to Shepard’s instructions, Arturia proved that she could also be an excellent student. She asked pointed questions when she didn’t understand. It seemed easy enough to use, though she couldn’t quite grasp why anyone would spend time playing games on the device. It seemed a waste of time.

“I think I understand, thank you,” a beat, “Why would one play games on this? It seems a right waste of time?”

[shepard]

Shepard doesn't press the topic of Arturia's gender any more than she has already. What makes sense to her only makes sense to her because she's spent a lifetime in a reality where women and men were treated equally. Arturia on the other hand, didn't share in those privileges.

"When you get here tomorrow, send me a message," she says. The blonde's first homework assignment. "I'll come."

And to answer Arturia's questions regarding games...

"It's just some way to blow time. After awhile, things are going to get pretty boring aboard the Prosperina. There seems to be a lot to do at first, but after a few weeks, things get old fast." Shepard wasn't particularly fond of games, but playing Pac-Man or Snake was a good way to blow a few minutes while she was waiting for Bashir to arrive for breakfast or settling down for a night of sleep.

[knightexemplar]

“I can do that,” she looked down at the communicator, “Or and the very least, I’ll start a small fire with it and send smoke signals down the hallway.” Hey, who knows, maybe there was a feature on it for that very thing. It seemed to do everything else.

“Hm,” that still seemed like a waste of time, “are there not books available here?” She did much prefer reading to anything else when she had idle time. She draped her jacket over her shoulder before picking up her makeshift spear. She should probably move that chair back into the other room. Perhaps someone would assume the dents and holes in the cushions held some kind of aesthetic value.

[shepard]

"I forgot that." Shepard snaps her communicator back open, then, with a few swift gestures of the finger, stops on a screen with a plethora of icons. One being a tiny book.

"There's a library of books here," she says, tapping on it. "You should be able to find what you're looking for with just a search." So long as the communicators did not prove as flaky as the replicators.

"You reading something interesting when you were transported here?" she asks, snapping the communicator shut again.

[knightexemplar]

“Well, it seems they have thought of everything with this little contraption. I suppose this saves space in the long run,” though the little device was missing that familiar smell books had. It was old and rich and utterly irreplaceable. Societies utilizing technology like this would miss half of the experience.

The mention of the replicators brought a frown to her face instantly, “I am unsure as to why the food dispensers are called replicators but I assure you that it isn’t replicating anything edible on a consistent basis.” That appliance had become the bane of her existence, maybe this was actually hell.

“Ah!” her expression brightened with the mention of reading. She had loved reading back in Camelot and the habit continued when she was pulled into the modern era and left to her own devices. “Yes, I was reading the Odyssey,” coincidentally it wasn’t a book she would have read in her time but it was one she had enjoyed none the less and she was pulled away before she could finish it. It was silly to enjoy something so simple but it was a story Arturia appreciated.

[shepard]

"The Odyssey," Shepard says, smiling her approval. If it was the same The Odyseey in her world, it was a book worth reading. Though it definitely made things confusing; how can a book created in one reality exist concurrently on another?

She wasn't sure that even Liara would have a theory on this.

"It's a good read," she says, stepping to her feet; her towel dangles over her shoulder. "If you need anything," she says, lifting the communicator up and tapping it with a single digit. "Message me."

Hopefully this wouldn't be impossible for Arturia.

And if Arturia doesn't have anything else to say, she makes her way towards the exit.

[knightexemplar]

"I shall, the same to you," a pause then a small smile, "Though I cannot guarantee I'll see the message immediately."

Having decided that, yes, she did need to drag that chair back into the recreation room, she moved carefully over to the tacky seat.

"Fare thee well, Shepard," this said over her shoulder.

[Fin!]

(unless you had anything else!)

[shepard]

(And nope, perfect! I would totally be down for some more heart-to-hearts sometime, though, given that I think that Arturia's the only other woman on the ship she's really talked to since finding herself here.)

[knightexemplar]

(ditto! I am always down for heart to hearts! Name a place and I'll be here. :) )