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Gym: Tuesday Morning

After waking up early for a five mile run through the Preserve, Worf spent an unusual amount of time having small furry creatures attack him from above.

While he found them to be of no consequence to deal with, Worf thought it would be better to continue his exercise routine indoors in order to eliminate any more interference with his routine.

Which is why anyone entering the room would find the Klingon practicing his mok'bara forms.

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Ender's towel met the floor next, and he segued easily into the first of his stretches. "I'm Ender," he replied, in a tone that came close to matching Worf's. "At least it's not singing rats."

"They had enough sense to run away when confronted," Worf said before sending a volley of punches at the bag. "These... bears seem to lack common wisdom."

"Which means we're the ones who'll have to bring the common wisdom," Ender said, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment. "Maybe an umbrella."

"Are you sure that would be effective?" Worf asked with a grunt as he hit the bag again with a rather punishing blow.

"I haven't tried it." His arms now loose, Ender scanned the room for something else. Sometimes he missed the rope back at home, but he wasn't going to push himself. Not again. Not any more. "It'd need something with a better structural integrity."

Worf paused briefly to study Ender a bit more before striking out at the bag again. "I would think so. Cloth and small metal skeleton would not be very useful."

In the end, he picked the bikes again. He needed the exercise to keep himself on the right level-- he didn't want to push it and become buff, gather up enough muscle tissue to smother his own mind. "You might just want to take part of the roof."

Worf considered that before throwing a few more punches. "Clumsy... yet efficient."

"Only if you manage to hold it upright for a long enough timespan." Bean had always been the one with the quick, ingenious ideas about using new toys. Then again, Ender wondered if he could have thought of anything to deal with bears falling from the sky.

Part of him was sure he could have.

"I'm sure that would not be a problem for myself," Worf said dryly. "You seem to have a good grasp of defensive concepts."

"Only as long as the attack continues to come from above," Ender pointed out, his fingers dancing over the crude console to set the right program. "It leaves your flanks open." He shook his head, brushing his hair away with one hand-- it was getting too long again-- and settled it on the bike. He didn't want to be thinking like this. They were just falling bears. Maybe they had a reason for falling.

Worf stopped punching the bag to turn his full attention to Ender. "You are quite young to have such knowledge of such tactics. How do you know this?"

"I went to school."

"Certainly not this one," Worf said with a small scoff.

"I've only been here for a few weeks," Ender said, focusing on the motion of his legs. He hoped that'd get Worf off the subject; the standard new-kid questions would be a relief right now.

"I see," Worf said giving Ender a suspicious look and then returning his attention to the punching bag. "I started here at the beginning of the summer."

Ender briefly shot him another look. Another new person, relatively speaking; he seemed to hold the paranoia of someone who'd yet to fully grasp why he'd have to be. He toyed with the idea in his mind, then let it lie. At least the subject had been dropped. "You seem charmed."

Worf didn't look up from the punching bag. "I was intending to attend another school," he replied tersely. "I was... sent here instead. I hardly find this place... charming."

Asking about someone else's background still seemed something of a foreign concept, but Ender pushed through his hesitation with ease as his movement gained all of his attention again. "It happens," he said. "Could be worse."

"True," Worf replied but his tone made it seem otherwise. "How did you come to be here?"

"My family sent me here," he answered. It wasn't a lie; Ender had watched and learned enough, both from the newsfeeds and Valentine's one letter to know that Peter had somehow been involved. He just didn't know how-- he guessed he had to be grateful he was still alive, away from a planet that didn't want him back. "Nothing fancy."

Worf threw a few well placed blows at the bag. "Interesting. Was your family aware of the... uniqueness of this island?"

"If they did, they didn't warn me." He put a little more force into his movements, his feet pushing against the pressure of the pedals. "I take it no one warned you."

"I was given the impression this was a preparatory school for a certain academy," Word said giving the bag a particular vicious punch. "However the person who put me here seemed to have my humiliation in mind."

"Humiliation how?" It wasn't a subject he was unfamiliar with; it was a bully's strategy, to do it simply for humiliation's sake.

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