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WHO: Re-L Mayer & YOU!
WHERE: Eluvio's Gym
WHEN: January 6th-9th before the mission
WHAT: Re-L is working out the stress of being in a new place with new people - by working out a lot.
WARNINGS: n/a - maybe slight language

It had been a long time since she'd had access to an actual gym to use. Sure, using her own weight to keep herself fit had been working, but not as well as she'd liked, and Pino didn't have the patience to be a weight set for very long before some shiny object or coloring set was deemed better than the attempt at her own fitness. The sight of weight and an actual treadmill is a welcome sight - finally, something that is wholly and formally meant to make her stronger and well.. keep her fit. She'd started with a run on the treadmill, nothing too overbearing to start, a bit of a warm up, so to speak.

But then comes weight lifting. Casually, she loads something like 400 pounds total on to a bar, looking every bit too thin to lift what she's putting on there, but the weights themselves don't seem to bother her individually -

After all, Pino is about the same as two of the one hundred pound weights. Round about.

Once it's all loaded and the bar it set at shoulder height, she takes the time to put her hair up and away from her neck before settling the weight bar there and, carefully, backing up to free it from the pins holding it up.

The weight itself doesn't seem to bother her a bit, taking a moment to make sure that she is in proper form before dropping in to a few low squats, seemingly not bothered a bit by all of the weight on her shoulders, if not completely satisfied that she hasn't lost her touch with this kind of thing. All of that time away from the dome (negating her time spent gathering and loading supplies with Vincent) - and she still hasn't lost too much in the way of stamina or strength.

She pauses in her exercise for a moment to let a thought sit, for a moment, contemplating just who she might be able to find to help train her when it came to a little more hand to hand combat. Would it be her preferred method? Hell no. In fact, she'd still prefer her guns, but..

Without Vincent around, the whole dynamic of him taking the close quarters combat and her taking out enemies before they go too close was shot to hell. A quick look around the gym proves to produce quite a few bulky candidates, however.. she'll wait until she sees a few in action before deciding who to approach. For now to put her bar back on the rack, carefully moving to grab two 25 pound weights to load on either side, waiting for a moment before speaking.

"Excuse me. I just need 2 of those disc 25 pound weights, if you can spare them for a moment."

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"Depends on who you talk to, I think. Sometimes, I could go for a place where no one is intelligent enough to speak simply for the silence." And the fact that there were no word games in silence, no need to figure out someone's angle or where the hell things were coming from or what they were trying to glean. No matter what this place was, she was suspicious as hell about this place. There was too much available to them in close order for their arrival to have been a chance anomaly as the story was written, too much seemingly planned out.

Or, perhaps, she was thinking too damn hard. She tended to do that, after all. "You know you just described the dome I grew up in, if you took out all of the fellow citizens, right? A strange society driven, at times, by programmable beings? I can tell you from experience it's a prison without a yard. However, finding the yard may make you a little too awake to settle back in to the cell."

"Well, no one will be Daedalus in terms of finding quick ways to get me back in working order - but at some point I'm going to have to settle." He may have had a little too much inclination toward her, it was true, but damn if he wasn't a damn good doctor who'd pulled her out of one too many tight situations to fully sully him, though he had hidden things and, at times, played her like a chess game. However, hadn't she done the same?

"Don't worry, Dr. McCoy, I won't ask you to break your hands to save me a scratch." And with that she stands, the bar holding up for the moment, at least for a few more of those squats. She seems to exert a little more, with this round, though not enough to stop her from speaking. "So far so good it seems, uh?"

Well then, seems she was a bit like a Vulcan after all. That silent air about 'em. Either way, he figures to each their own. "I guess I can see the glamour in shutting down the noise." Sometimes he thinks things are too damn noisy even on the Enterprise, but not to this degree. "Assumin' they have the potential to be sentient and think for them selves, you have to realize that there is a possibility of repression of that impulse of free thought an' choice. So are they just incapable of talkin' or are they slaves?"

It's a thought. One he doesn't really like thinking about. But he doesn't like ruling things out. Till he's proven otherwise, he won't buy the song and dance of everything being some unfortunate accident tied up in a friendly societal bow. "Doesn't sound too pretty, where you're from. The Federation at least has that goin' for 'em. Mostly peaceful. People get their right to live." And that means enough to him.

"Daedalus. How poetic." Give your kid wings that cause their death. Not exactly a name that should be given to a doctor, he'd wager. But what did he know. "Only thing that would stop me from livin' up to my potential is my lack of knowledge to your physiology. But I'm sure if I had the right information, my skills are not just something to settle for, I'll tell you that." And maybe it's a little bit of his pride, but he knows he can learn anything given the right break down of information and the biology that makes her tick.

Pausing, he frowned. Lines furrowing his brow, he arched a brow and his head cocked to the side. "You won't ask, sure..." But he'd damn well try to save her injury. Any good doctor would do anything to keep a living being from harm. "Looks like the bar might hold up. Least there is that."

"Shutting down the outside noise often helps quiet the chaos going on in my own mind." She thinks too much, at times - too many questions, too many deep reaching theorems and connections to things that she wasn't sure actually meant a damn thing to anyone. One, two more and then Re-L is putting the bar back up on the rack, taking a moment to breathe before addressing what else he'd brought up.

"That would be the question. It could be that they're repressed - it could be that they're waiting for something. Or, they're prisoners and there's been some sort of modifications done to them to prevent uprising. There are many options and possibilities." Her hands find her hips, taking a deep breath in and then out. "Oh, it was beautiful if we were going simply by aesthetic. It's the underwork that gets a little.. less so."

- - The comment about the poetic tragedy in the name Daedalus actually gets a laugh out of her. If only McCoy knew how exactly on the money he was. "Well, you certainly grasped the irony in his naming. So far a physiology - that information died with Daedalus Yumeno, and I doubt this place could give us a way to ask him. Last I needed a quick healing time he used something called Amrita Cells, which... Well, those come off of proxies and I can assure you none of them are here so far as I can tell." Because, well, they'd probably be trying to kill her, if they were around.

"Where you're from - do people and aliens still give birth naturally, or are humans created and grown?" Well that's a swipe out of left field but.. maybe it will help him determine her differences? She's curious to know, but not eager to be poked and prodded by any means.

"Try meditating in a small room then. Know a Vulcan that does it and he seems to come out right as rain." And a bit less on the attitude. But then, he kind of likes that she has more of a personality outside logic only. Logic and reason only go for far.

Frowning tightly at her commentary on the people that seemed to just fill the space, he crossed his arms over his chest. Creepy ass aliens and their prison ship is what this all was. "Yeah, other possibilities and all the ones you're namin' ain't savory, that's for damn sure."

But he doesn't disregard her talk of her world. Whatever world that may be. And maybe he looked vaguely surprised when she laughed. Angling his head, he arched a brow at her and waited for her to explain, if she planned to. Damn it, but he was turning into Spock at this rate. Wait... "So you know the story of Daedalus and Icarus?" That could mean that she was from a possible time line of earth. "And it all sounds mighty mad science-y. Did he also have plans to take over the world?"

Falling silent again, he was rolling that information around and puzzling over a bit of the Intel when she asked that question. "Both. Most prefer the traditional method, but some do go with artificial means. Why do you ask?"

"What the hell are Vulcans anyway?" She knew about meditation - had read plenty about it, but well. Considering fellow citizens were supposed to be in total control of their emotions at all times? There wasn't exactly much in the way of practice of those principals. Either way, she finds her question about what this other being was a little more important than how one practices meditation, shrugging as he says that whatever is going on may not be savory. Life wasn't all that savory - she may be only nineteen, but her experience with life so far had gone to show her that much even in that short span of time.

"Unfortunately we won't know for some time, if they choose not to be upfront with what's gong on. I intend to find out all I can about this mysterious tin can in space, though." And apparently has no qualms with making sure that it was known, either. There was no sense in pretending that she had no idea what was going on, or that she wasn't suspicious about this place as a whole. She'd never been good at not expressing things like disgust, when it came down to it, and was far too curious to not look in to this mysterious ship even though it had, seemingly, taken her on out of some kind of odd genuine care for those who had just appeared.

"I do. I was encouraged to read a large amount of classical literature." Though - the question about Daedalus earns a bit of a joking shrug, though.. who knew, with Daedalus. He could've had a plan to take over Romdeau and the dome once her grandfather passed away, but the awakening had happened faster - she could never really be sure. "He may have. Daedalus seemed to have many plans that he kept close to his person and didn't share."

"Curious is all. Fellow citizens in the dome were made down to their personalities and skills via a womb system. So they were born with, and given, a raison d'être from birth. I don't assume your processes are that.. intensive or imprisoning to a certain life path, though?"

"Alien species. Used to be from the planet Vulcan." That thought still bothered him to consider. Especially since he actually grew a small patch of heart that was fond of Spock, the empathy only grew from that already instinctual care for all life that came with his career as a doctor. All life mattered.

However, that thought was interrupted by her calling the place a tin can, and the corner of his lips rose in a vague smile. He liked that attitude. Finally, someone knew how he felt about this whole floating metal boat in airless space. Or at least shared his descriptions of it. "Let me know if I can help out in that. Don't trust these people as far as I can throw 'em."

"Reading is good for the soul. Also makes the mind sharper and aware of how things can play out in more ways than what people want us to believe." It raised a higher level of consciousness. Something he appreciated as long as they weren't entirely insensitive like Spock tended to be. Where he liked the Vulcan, he still wanted to strangle him a lot of the time. "Sounds like a person I don't want to meet. Prefer things to be a little more transparent and a whole lot less strings attached."

And bluntness. He preferred bluntness over shadow talk any day.

Pausing, he looked at her with a brow raised sharply. "That sounds... like a terrible place to live. I wouldn't want... that's just like raisin' lab rats and not kids. I like seein' my daughter grow up and be her own person. Part of bein' human." the idea of everything being predetermined and picked? That ruffled his feathers a lot. "Humans are born with a right to choose. It's what makes us what we are. Takin' that away is like strippin' away our right to live."

"Oh. Explains where I don't know about them, then..." Though she'd like to learn when they weren't chatting in a gym, that much was for certain. These people had many new things to learn about, and it took all of her to not peel them back with the sheer weight of what she wanted to know. There was time (presumably) she reminded herself. She could ask him about Vulcans another time and another place.

"I will. I want to gather up people to bring in different... perspectives, I guess is the term. After all, we're all from different worlds so it makes sense, right?" Plus, the differences in the technology and the lot would be helpful. Things here seemed on par with Romdeau but... different all at once.

"That's why he wanted me to read them, I think. So that I could think higher than Romdeau and my grandfather.. think around them, maybe... " She shrugs - it's no use contemplating on the thoughts and motivations of a dead man, anyway, though.. a part of her wonders what the hell he was thinking with Real and Romdeau and everything else towards the end of things. There's a little laugh at him saying he preferred people to be straight forward, looking to the ceiling for a moment. "You wouldn't have liked Romdeau at all, then. Conversations were sort of like... verbal poker. Hiding cards you didn't want to reveal and at the same time being aware of what they are or aren't saying, or why. It's exhausting."

She pauses, for a moment, as if mulling over what to say next to what he's asserting about the wombsys and the lot. It's all correct, in a situation where people could actually reproduce normally and the lot. However, with that possibility ruled out -

"For one, humans can't be born the natural way, where I'm from. We're all too irradiated for that." Another pause, and then : "I know I was made to be curious and intuitive.. maybe too much so, to be fair. I think I surpassed what he thought I would be capable of... digging through all the mess of the dome and what was going on.."

"Might not exist where you're from, maybe. Never know." He experienced so many types of parallel realities he really didn't want to think about it. Especially right now while stranded in this place with people he didn't know. Well. Except Jim. Someone he needed in his life, no doubt.

"Well, Jim works as a bartender, haven't really seen where, but I know that's what they assigned him. He'd likely love talkin' conspiracies with ya." Where Leonard could go on all day about his distrust for this place, he knew the more productive players in this would not be himself. Sure, he'd follow the blonde into hell, but he wouldn't lead the way himself. Unless he had to...

"Sounds unsavory. I don't have time for that mess. I am what I am. No point in hidin' it or what I'm doin'." He saved lives or tried to. He kept Jim Kirk in one piece and he took care of those that needed it. Why play mind games or use manipulation? No point in that. And it seemed she was pretty tired of it herself if how so spoke of them - albeit in monotone.

Though, he stopped at the idea of the world being too irradiated to have children conceived. His brow furrowed and he closed his mouth. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he watched her carefully before letting out a soft sigh. "Those are.. good traits. Even if they were 'chosen' for ya, I hope they lead you down a ways but you get to pick which way you go. Maybe be silly hopin' that, but I do."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't." She knew that those coming back to Earth were human - or at least the descendants of those who had left the surface years upon years ago. It was all painstakingly documented, as though those left behind were lamenting ever letting them all go to space without them, when she'd gotten the chance to look at it. In the end of things, she'd only ever known Romdeau anyway, so lusting after a life in space had seemed useless. Now, though, she was at least curious about how they'd lived up there.

"Oh, do they have good wine, there?" Yes, she's nineteen and is picky as hell about her wines, Bones, sorry. There's a moment's pause, and then it seems she feels the need to explain: "I just don't see the good in overly trusting a place that takes all of these people in so unassumingly, is all. Everyone has their price."

He says Romdeau sounds unsavory and she takes a moment to laugh, nodding her head to say that he wasn't wrong. The dome had been the pinnacle of society, and yet all the layers beneath were where things began the slippery slope. "I think you wouldn't have made an ideal fellow citizen, then. But that isn't necessarily all bad. The expectations, particularly of those with a high rank, can be suffocating. ... As well as boring."

"I've already chosen my own way." She'd been too intuitive for her own good - her grandfather's advisers had said it many times in the course of her life. "Granted, I think I learned all too quickly that knowing the truth will not necessarily make me happy."

"Haven't really been for more than whiskey. Bit of a weakness." He pointed out lightly then shrugged his shoulder. Then he stopped and lifted a brow. "How old are you by the way." From the slender build, strong or not, she didn't strike him as completely at the physiological peak of maturity. Which led him to believe she was still close to or not completely out of adolescence. Not entirely.

But he agreed on that. "Unless they drag us here for man power." Can't make robots do everything right? Unless they were making people into robots. That just gave him the chills right there. He would rather die than let them treat him medically now that he had that thought in his head.

"I don't make an ideal much of anything. But I'm a damn good doctor." Regardless of his supposedly terrible bedside manner. He could be good at that when he tried. "Yeah well, fittin' in isn't the most important thing in life. And I sure as hell don't conform to other's expectations."

All he could do was nod at her saying she made her own path. At least there was that. "Well, like they say. In much wisdom there is grief. But I don't agree with ignorance bein' bliss either."

"Whiskey is one I've never had. Immigrants seemed to have a lot of it, though - " Of course, someone of her standing in life hadn't really been "allowed" that kind of liquor - it wasn't looked at as favorably as her favored wine had been and well.. she didn't feel like hearing her grandfather's shit after Iggy witnessed her bumming booze off of an immigrant. Still, now that she had a lot more in the way of freedom, it might be worth it to go and try out what she can while she can. "I'm nineteen, why?" She'd be twenty soon enough, April wasn't all that far away, after all.

His mention of bringing them to the Eluvio for man power ha her scrunching her nose, though, apparently not very convinced. "Why, when they can easily make unthinking drones that wouldn't mind going and doing whatever was needed for them? They wouldn't even have to think about the possibility of deviance from the mission, with drones." That was why Romdeau had begun using autoreivs, after all. It was easier to conscript mechanical beings in to an entire lifetime of menial work and expect them to do it until they broke down without complaint.

"That's a lot of confidence." Well, his declaration gives her a little bit of amusement, regardless, it would seem. "Maybe not in places outside of Romdeau, but inside? If you didn't conform it was basically social suicide."

"I don't know about bliss - but not knowing would have saved me a lot of mental anguish, at times."

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