[Mako isn't one to complain about training, or even to think about what parts she dislikes. It feels like an excuse to slack, or an excuse to start considering some parts of the program less important than others, and honestly, she's too focused and obsessive to start thinking about how much she hates some of their exercises.
The cold water conditioning, though. Mako would never admit it, but she loathes it.
Unlike Conner, she sheds her wetsuit immediately, and by the time he catches up, she's sitting on a bench, hunched over, in a hoodie that she's drowning in and her hair still dripping. She's shivering violently, jaw set to keep her teeth from chattering. She's trying to walk herself through the discomfort, telling herself that it will pass, that it doesn't matter, but when she sees Conner she feels cold all over again. She shudders, wrapping her arms around herself.]
Do you need a towel?
[Why else would he not be trying to warm up as quickly as possible?]
[Oh, he was quick enough to get out of the wetsuit, but the towels ... yeah. None in sight. The bin closest to him was empty.]
Y-yeah ...
[He replies through chattering teeth, rubbing at his arms to get his blood flowing again as he scans the room. He throws a bit of a longing glance at the shower. The drill sergeants had pretty thoroughly drummed it into his head that possible hypothermia and hot water is a recipe for arrhythmia, but fuck if the idea of a hot shower didn't seem like the best thing in the goddamn world.]
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The cold water conditioning, though. Mako would never admit it, but she loathes it.
Unlike Conner, she sheds her wetsuit immediately, and by the time he catches up, she's sitting on a bench, hunched over, in a hoodie that she's drowning in and her hair still dripping. She's shivering violently, jaw set to keep her teeth from chattering. She's trying to walk herself through the discomfort, telling herself that it will pass, that it doesn't matter, but when she sees Conner she feels cold all over again. She shudders, wrapping her arms around herself.]
Do you need a towel?
[Why else would he not be trying to warm up as quickly as possible?]
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Y-yeah ...
[He replies through chattering teeth, rubbing at his arms to get his blood flowing again as he scans the room. He throws a bit of a longing glance at the shower. The drill sergeants had pretty thoroughly drummed it into his head that possible hypothermia and hot water is a recipe for arrhythmia, but fuck if the idea of a hot shower didn't seem like the best thing in the goddamn world.]
D-don't suppose you've got a spare?