AO2 - Academy Lounge / Cafeteria / Gardens

[Maddie Allen]

The lounge / cafeteria is a large complex where meals are served and where cadets can come between assignments to relax and interact with others.

The gardens provide a peaceful environment for study and conversations.

No alcohol is served in the lounge / cafeteria, and it is strictly forbidden for cadets to consume the same on campus.
 
== This area is an open posting area for use by Star Fleet Academy (SFA) cadets, faculty, and administrators. Cadets may post outside of their training holodecks here and interact with each other and SFA staff in an informal environment.

All standard posting format rules apply here; posting here is a good chance to practice these skills.

To post in this thread a cadet must be current in their training. There should not be an academy post in your holodeck waiting for your reply while you are posting here. Same goes for Academy Instructors (AI) please. No posting done in this location will be taken into consideration when evaluating final exams or opt-out exam status.

Individuals found in violation of these simple rules will be reminded politely to make training their priority. Subsequent violations may result in loss of posting privileges in this thread.

This can really be a fun environment for you to practice posting skills that will be invaluable once you’ve graduated and entered the ‘real game’ so use this thread wisely and to your advantage. Any questions, please contact me.

This thread will be pruned monthly. ==

[Riley Wright]

Riley’s running shoes pounded against the track, her breath coming steady as the cool afternoon breeze caught the loose strands of her hair. She had long since learned to turn underestimation into motivation. Her frame moved with wiry efficiency, each stride carrying her forward with purpose. Dressed in dark running tights and a fitted training top, she had rolled her sleeves high to keep cool, the faint scar on her forearm catching the light with each swing of her arm. A flicker of ink showed beneath the fabric, shifting with the motion of her stride.

Beside her, T’Varen kept pace effortlessly. The Vulcan cadet’s expression remained calm and measured, as though running laps were nothing more than a simple calculation to be solved. Clad in a simple gray top and shorts with lightweight trainers, she showed no sign of strain. Where Riley’s movements were fueled by determination and energy, T’Varen’s were precise and economical, every motion exact. Does she ever even sweat? Riley thought, half amused and half annoyed.

“You know,” Riley said between breaths, “you could at least pretend this is hard.”

The words came out between gulps of air, her tone laced with playful irritation. She leaned into the curve of the track, arms pumping harder as though the added effort alone might prove her point.

T’Varen arched an eyebrow, not breaking stride. “I find it more productive to conserve unnecessary exertion.”

Her voice was calm, unshaken, as though she were discussing the weather rather than keeping pace on a run. The steadiness only made Riley’s smirk deepen. Of course she’d say that.

“Spoken like someone who’s never had fun a day in her life,” she teased, stealing a glance at her friend as she pushed her pace.

Without missing a step, T’Varen replied, “On the contrary. I find efficiency to be quite enjoyable.”

The response was delivered so dryly that it nearly broke Riley’s rhythm. She let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head as she pressed harder into the next lap, unwilling to give her friend the satisfaction of thinking she’d rattled her. One day, I’m going to crack that calm exterior… and it’ll be glorious.

For a while, neither spoke. The only sound between them was the rhythm of their footfalls, perfectly in sync despite their contrasting styles. Riley thrived on the burn in her muscles, the sting of the air in her lungs, while T’Varen ran as though untouched by either. It was their balance — fire and calm, drive and control — and for Riley, there was no better training partner.

[Riley Wright]

Riley slowed to a jog, then finally gave in and stopped, hands braced on her knees as she caught her breath. A few steady pulls of air later, she dropped onto the grass beside the track, legs stretched out in front of her. The ache in her thighs was sharp but familiar, almost welcome. She tugged at the hem of her sleeve, rolling it higher. A flicker of the tattoo on her arm showed when she leaned forward, but she didn’t think twice about it.

T’Varen joined her a moment later, lowering herself into a seated stretch with the same precision she brought to everything. Not a hair out of place, not even a hint of strain. Riley gave her a long look, then snorted. Not even breathing heavy. Unbelievable.

“You could at least sigh a little,” Riley said, reaching for her toes. “For show, if nothing else.”

“It would be illogical to simulate fatigue I am not experiencing,” T’Varen replied, folding forward with exact control, fingers touching the soles of her shoes like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Riley huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “Illogical. Sure. But it wouldn’t kill you to fake it once in a while. Makes you seem less… I don’t know. Alien.”

That earned her the faintest flicker of an eyebrow. “I have no need to disguise myself as approachable. Efficiency is sufficient.”

Of course it is. Riley leaned back on her hands, the grass cool under her palms, eyes tracing the path they’d just run. Her chest still rose and fell a little fast, sweat running down her temple. She glanced back at T’Varen. Still calm. Still Vulcan. “You’re telling me you don’t get even a little satisfaction from smoking me on that track?”

T’Varen didn’t answer right away. She shifted seamlessly into another stretch, posture as straight as if she’d been carved that way. “Satisfaction is irrelevant. I completed the exercise as intended.”

Riley gave her a sidelong grin. “That’s Vulcan for yes.”

The smallest pause. “That is a misinterpretation.”

Riley laughed, a real one this time, short and sharp. She shook her head and pulled one knee up to her chest, hugging it tight as her muscles cooled. One of these days I’ll catch her off guard. She won’t know what hit her.

For a while, they stretched in companionable silence. The only sound between them was the shift of fabric, the scrape of shoes against the grass. Different as they were, Riley liked the balance of it. She needed the push, the reminder that there was always another step to take. And if she had to put up with Vulcan logic to get there… well, she’d survive.

[Riley Wright]

Riley eased back into one last stretch, then let herself sprawl onto the grass with a quiet groan. The ground was cool against her back, a welcome contrast to the heat still rolling through her muscles. After a moment she pushed herself upright and grabbed the water bottle she’d dropped nearby, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink. The cool water hit the spot, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before setting the bottle down again.

T’Varen had already transitioned neatly into another stretch, unhurried, precise. Riley shook her head with a grin. Still looks like she could run ten more laps without blinking.

“You know,” Riley said, catching her breath, “we should head to the cafeteria. Get something before I collapse. No more drills today, so we might as well enjoy it.” She took another sip from her bottle, then gave T’Varen a sideways smirk. “Unless, of course, snacks are illogical too.”

T’Varen straightened slowly, adjusting her posture with her usual composure. “Snacks are unnecessary. However… nutritional replenishment following exertion is advisable.”

Riley laughed, shaking her head. “Right. Nutritional replenishment. Call it what you want — I call it food.”

They gathered their things and made their way across campus. The sun hung low, casting long shadows between the white stone buildings. Cadets passed by in small groups, some still in workout gear, others heading back to dorms or holodeck sessions. Riley adjusted her water bottle under her arm and felt the comfortable heaviness in her legs with each step. Earned soreness. The good kind.

The cafeteria was quieter at this hour, most of the rush already gone. The scent of replicated meals mingled in the air, a dozen flavors at once, not all of them pleasant. Riley headed straight for the line, grabbing a tray and scanning the options. “So,” she said, glancing back at T’Varen, “nutritional replenishment. What’s it gonna be? Vulcan plomeek broth? One of those bland protein blocks you like so much?”

T’Varen accepted her own tray, unruffled. “Plomeek broth would be sufficient.”

Riley gave her a look. “Sufficient? After running half the Academy grounds, that’s the best you can do? Come on. Live a little. Get some pasta. Maybe even dessert.”

“I fail to see how overindulgence constitutes ‘living,’” T’Varen replied, placing her tray down with exactness as she chose a small, balanced portion of vegetables.

Riley rolled her eyes and went for the pasta option, adding a roll and — after a pause — a slice of cake to her tray. “See, this is why we balance each other out,” she said with a grin. “You keep me disciplined, and I remind you food can actually taste good.”

They found a table by the window. Riley dug in, hunger overruling her usual restraint. Between bites, she glanced at T’Varen, who was eating with measured calm, as though even dinner was an exercise in control. One of these days, I’ll get her to try something that isn’t green or flavorless.

“You know,” Riley said, nudging her fork toward the cake, “I’m pretty sure enjoying a dessert now and then won’t ruin your efficiency.”

T’Varen raised an eyebrow. “I remain unconvinced.”

Riley smirked and took a bite of the cake, exaggerating her satisfied hum just enough to be obnoxious. “Suit yourself. More for me.”