WHO: Illya Kuryakin and Daisy Johnson WHEN: 226410.20, morning WHERE: The gym SUMMARY: Log challenge - prompt: orange WARNINGS: TBD
Since outing himself as a spy, Illya didn't feel as uncomfortable around the ship anymore. He didn't have to hide anything anymore and he wasn't as high strung. He'd even decided to join the ship's security force. He was currently "in training", which was kind of ridiculous to him. Being a champion at sambo and judo, there weren't many people who could take him in a physical fight. Learning about all of the technology aboard the ship was the more difficult thing for him.
Illya continued to work out in the gym, usually doing weights and some cardio before hitting the punching bag. It depended on how angry he was feeling that day whether or not he took his frustrations out on the bag. This day had gone relatively well so far, so Illya finished his workout without getting in any punches. He sat down on one of the benches in the gym to rest for a minute, pulling an orange out of his gym bag.
This was a rare treat. In the Soviet Union, oranges were like a delicacy. They only made their way up north during the summer months and even then, the average person wasn't likely to find one. Any imports usually went to high ranking party officials. Illya couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten an orange.
He pulled a bit of the skin off and was able to get more of the peel open with his finger. Once he'd manage to free a wedge, he took a bite. Even if it was made by a machine, it was heavenly.
"This is very good," he said to the lady who happened to be working out near him, one whom he recognized but had not spoken to yet. He was pretty sure she was "friends" with Napoleon.