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Date & Time: May 29th, early afternoon
Location: The Training Hall
Characters: Shepard and yooouuuuuuuuu
Summary: Space magic aka Shepard's just going to fling things around with her biotics and then shoot them. It's v. productive.
Warnings: Possible bad language and eventual mentions of alcohol?

There were few things as satisfying to Shepard as the feel of the assault rifle in her hands. Or any weapon, really. She was a soldier at heart, a fighter. Even before she had died and was rebuilt to stop the Collectors, she'd always loved the fight, loved shooting, loved the intense training it took to be good at what she did. Right now, though, it was more of a way to get her mind to focus.

A blue haze engulfed her hand as she motioned for another target, whipping it into the air. She pressed the butt of her gun against her shoulder, aimed, fired. The target shattered.

The past few years had been good at throwing the commander through the ringer, dropping her in one situation after another. On the outside, it wouldn't seem like this place and the purpose she was dragged here would be any different, but everything about these people got under her skin. Her world was was being ravaged, the galaxy threatened, and here she was playing at rebellion for people she didn't even know. She had no team, and to be honest, it was getting harder for her to want to trust people to have her back again.

Another target shot through the air.

Aim, fire.

Too bad there weren't any Blue Suns to play target practice with.

[ooc: totally willing to go with action tags, as well!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He's just here because there are toys here, and he's bored, and it's his birthday and he wants to be home so this is a nice distraction. Or something. Really, it's just luck that she happens to be down here as well.

Tony approaches - he's not an idiot, he doesn't do it silently and he does the closer stuff when he thinks she's reloading - and then casually asks, 'What kind of gun is that?' Because it's similar-looking but yet not something he recognises, and technology is sort of his forte. The blue shit... Well, he'll ask about that in a minute.

She pauses when the man approaches, glancing at him before letting her gaze drop back to the weapon, making sure the thermal clip is in correctly. "The N7 Valkyrie." She pats it gently. "It's a standard-issue gun in the Alliance now, but I love it."

The interruption is only a slight inconvenience, but she doesn't let that reflect on her face. "Interested in guns?"

At this point he is genuinely looking more at the weapon than at her, analysing aspects here and there and cataloguing specs in as much as he can figure it works. Which, you know, doesn't take long. Then his attention is back to her entirely. 'Used to make 'em. Still do, sometimes. And you apparently shoot things with them.'

It's interesting, really, to find someone more into her gun than in talking to her. And to be honest, it's incredibly relieving, like a breath of fresh air if she wants to get cliche about it. Everyone knows who Commander Shepard is back home.

"Yes, that's generally what guns are for. Shooting things, and I'm pretty damn good at that." She frowns for a moment. "What century are you from?"

Well Tony's good at knowing what he's interested in and paying attention to it. If she starts shooting the gun again he'll be all eyes for specs but until then he's basically finished giving it the once-over to try and reverse-mental-engineer how it worked.

'Yeah, I meant, you, specifically. Shooting things.' He pauses to look at the targets, then looks back to answer her question. 'Twenty-first. Guessing you're a little ahead of that?'

Shepard's eyebrows raise a bit as she chuckles. "My pilot is absolutely going to love you. He has a thing for twenty-first century pop culture. Twentieth, too." It's worrisome to think about in a way. Will something she say or do somehow change the future of the galaxy?

Maybe that's for the best, all things considered.

"A little bit. I'm well into the second half of the twenty-second century."

'That's gotta be fun. I guess it's good to know there's people still around. Something must be going right, anyway.'

At least, he hopes. Technically there's a whole lot of theories about shit like that - she doesn't even have to be from any universe that's related to him whatsoever - but he chooses to assume they're all branching out from his own until given direct evidence otherwise. You'd sort of go insane trying to keep everything straight otherwise. Besides, it's all based in the theoretical; he hasn't seen much proof aside from... this place, that there's anything at all in solid evidence there.

People still around. For now, she supposes, but not for much longer if she continues to be stuck here. Not when the Reapers are done ravaging the galaxy, humanity being one of the first to go. Still... "I think we're just a little hard to get rid of. Some of the alien races didn't like that we discovered the mass relays, but hey. You can't like everything that happens."

She pauses and then holds out her hand. "I'm Shepard."

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sorry for the late tag 8c