Nora gets the feeling Loken wouldn't know what to do with a fist bump, so she refrains. His loss!
"Look, if you're here to spar," she nods at his sword, "I don't know what a 'servitor' is, but there are training droids." She hits the stop on the treadmill so the belt slows and the pitch lowers over the course of a few seconds, not that she'd mind being sent flying by an abrupt halt. "C'mere, I'll show you."
Nora hops off the treadmill and trots towards the sparring area, not checking to see if Loken's following, and not shutting up. "On one hand, they kinda suck. On the other hand, no one cares if you wreck 'em, so it balances out, I guess. We had to fight some like them back home when they got hacked, but those ones were trying to kill us. Of course, I don't blame General Ironwood for wanting to keep his people safe, but he just doesn't think things through. Who builds a bunch of centrally controlled fighting robots with lethal weapons and doesn't have a failsafe? Sure, they went down easy, but that's not the point! Okay, here we are."
She and her stream of consciousness stop at the edge of the sparring zone, demarcated by lines on the floor with a control panel against the wall. "Droids are behind the bulkhead, settings are here," she says, tapping the panel. "They won't go outside the lines and if you ring-out 'em they just walk back, assuming they can still walk. Ha!"
no subject
"Look, if you're here to spar," she nods at his sword, "I don't know what a 'servitor' is, but there are training droids." She hits the stop on the treadmill so the belt slows and the pitch lowers over the course of a few seconds, not that she'd mind being sent flying by an abrupt halt. "C'mere, I'll show you."
Nora hops off the treadmill and trots towards the sparring area, not checking to see if Loken's following, and not shutting up. "On one hand, they kinda suck. On the other hand, no one cares if you wreck 'em, so it balances out, I guess. We had to fight some like them back home when they got hacked, but those ones were trying to kill us. Of course, I don't blame General Ironwood for wanting to keep his people safe, but he just doesn't think things through. Who builds a bunch of centrally controlled fighting robots with lethal weapons and doesn't have a failsafe? Sure, they went down easy, but that's not the point! Okay, here we are."
She and her stream of consciousness stop at the edge of the sparring zone, demarcated by lines on the floor with a control panel against the wall. "Droids are behind the bulkhead, settings are here," she says, tapping the panel. "They won't go outside the lines and if you ring-out 'em they just walk back, assuming they can still walk. Ha!"