video; un: gunny

[marineris]

[Bobbie's long, dark hair is loose around her shoulders. She's not wearing the standard station suit—instead, she's wearing something tighter, with a diamond pattern and oddly shaped plating on the shoulders and chest, embedded with some sort of circuitry. She raises her hand, giving her communicator a little wave.]

Hey kids. Now that the gravity's back on, it's business as usual, yeah?

A while back Amos posted some tips about living in space. One of those is exercising—muscles atrophy in low-g much faster than on a proper planet, and we don't all want to turn into noodles. Most of you probably don't know anything about resistance training in space, though, so that's where I come in. If anyone wants a trainer, drop me a line, and if any of you want to learn self-defense or how to throw a solid punch, I can help with that, too. Unfortunately I don't have a gun, so I can't help anyone there.

[Does she sound a little bitter? She's a little bitter.]

By the way, has anyone figured out how to get the replicators to stop spitting up slop yet?

Comments

[marineris]

Good. I don't have an easy setting.

[oorah]

I was hoping you'd say that.

[marineris]

This won't be any fun unless we make it a bet.

[oorah]

Didn't know you were a gambler, Marine. Okay, what do I get if I win?

[marineris]

Best thing either of us get out of the replicators for a week, plus bragging rights.

[oorah]

Done. Name the when and where, assuming you want the same deal.

[marineris]

Tomorrow night in the gym sound fair?

[oorah]

I'll be there, devil dog. Over and out.

[marineris]

See you.