Welcome to Gaia! ::

Wash was on the Training Grounds, but he wasn't sure why.

It wasn't that the young man didn't appreciate the value of practice and persistence - especially after the rather tumultuous events of late. Their job was as dangerous as it was bizarre. It wasn't even that he was still tired from spending several weeks listless, ill, and - if he was really honest with himself - depressed. No, if he had to be honest about it, it was more of a personal problem.

That personal problem was currently strapped to his arm, and still in a relatively frumpy mood.

After all, how did one PRACTICE with a shield? He swung his arm through the air a few times. The weight was still uncomfortable, but Sally felt somehow lighter than usual. Growing braver, he made a wide chopping motion - and ended up spun 'round by his own momentum, his scarf wrapping around his face and obscuring his vision.

He could hear a snide chuckle echoing in his head as he spat out bits of lint and clawed at the offending accessory. Don't let anyone see me like this, he pleaded mentally. At least he hoped the incident would make his partner more forgiving - he didn't know if he could endure another scathing comment without tossing her off the beach.

You wouldn't dare.

As he tried to get untangled he contented himself with imaging her sailing like a frisbee out into the sea and being picked out of the air by a leaping shark, or something equally toothy and or dangerous.

"Uuuuhhh," Wash began dumbly, startled by the presence of someone on the field.

As he wrenched the last bit of scarf free of his face, he grimaced. Marcus, of all people? He had to look like bumbling idiot...

"Momentum," he answered as vaguely as possible. "I uh. I'm not quite used to. Well, you know," he said with a hint of exasperation, gesturing with his shield arm for emphasis. "I don't think I got the, well. Hang of it."

Besides, he thought to himself, what was he to do with it, run around willy nilly bashing people? He thought wistfully of Marcus's own weapon. A sword. So straightforward. Couldn't go wrong with that.

Sally bristled. Her rancor was nearly audible. He supposed it wasn't entirely fair to blame her - he secretly was glad he had a shield, if only to hide behind. The thought was somewhat shameful but no less true.

"You, uh, come here often?" he added lamely.

Oh.

If Wash had thought he felt silly before, it was only compounded now. Listen to Sally? He supposed he'd really been doing that all along, as in the heat of battle his performance wasn't nearly as, well, poor, but having it laid out so plainly... He supposed there had to be a reason the damn things could talk, anyway.

As he listened, Wash had to admit he wasn't surprised at Marcus's admission. He didn't look like the type to run around with some sort of medival weaponry. That could be said of most of them, honestly. He had just assumed that the rest had spent the time that he was asleep, well, training. It dawned on him then how little he knew about his fellow 'team mates'. Marcus, a workaholic?

"I'd love the help," he admitted. He wasn't sure if he was ready to jump right back in though - embarassingly enough, he thought he might have pulled something in his wild flailing. "But I was wonderin', what did'ya do before you ended up, well, here?" His gesture included most of the facility, a sort of vague hand sweep.