BSG Smackdown
BSG Smackdown
Summary: An evening in the Gym gets interesting.
Date: 3/23/09
Related Logs: None


Gymnasium Genesis - Deck 9

130 ACH 24277 Souls

Workout areas are abundant here along with benches and water dispensers. Running machines, rowing machines and lifting. There is a place for sparring with lockers that hold the equipment. Off this area, there is an athletics court and a pool.

-----< Condition Three - Public Area >----

Contents: Adelaide MacGregor Melia Wireless 442

Exits: [AC] Athletics Court [O] Corridor

[P] Pool


Phelan walks through the gym quietly and heads to the pool, he's got some kind of bag wrapped and taped on his hand. he doesn't really look around, just heads into the pool room, and a splash is heard shortly after

Praetoria watches the silent man pass through to the pool, deciding maybe to rethink her strategy of going pool side until the dour Lt. finishes. A raise of her brows towards Melia, her full mouth lifted in amusement. The comment will come later.

Adelaide is standing in the middle of the combat mat, looking around at the verious things to do, she's not far from Mack, whom until a few moments ago was conversing with her.

Mellie comes darting into the Gym, duffle over her shoulder, though she looks just the tiniest bit skeptical as she studies the equipment. Like Adelaide, she's paused, trying to figure out what she wants to do.

MacGregor chuckles faintly, after a moment's distraction and shakes his head, "Maybe I was mixing up the marine training schedule." he says, and shrugs, "Oh well, I can just lift heavy things for a while then go back and squeegee off and get ready for duty." He nods to Melie, and smiles "You're working out? You're too small to have muscles." he teases.

Praetoria's brows lifts in amusement, glancing towards Melia, "Want to go one or two rounds, shrimp?" Her towel is draped around her neck, her terry robe belted loosely, its hem brushing her thighs atop the long length of her legs. She carries herself in an unconsciously carefree manner. At MacGregor's friendly jibe towards Melia she grins, "I'm here as her body guard today. I'm -not- too small to have muscles." A friendly wink punctuates her response.

Adelaide glances towards the door, which requires her to look over her shoulder, as more people filter in she waves a friendly hand at Melia and 'troi also gets a smile and a nod. Phelan's enterance is noted and for a second the woman, blink she makes a few steps towards the pool then shakes her head and turns back to the room at large. Nah she doesn't feel like a swim today.

Melia steps a bit further in, which brings the fact she's got a hell of a black eye into the light, and grins up at MacGregor. "Yeah, I need to work out," she tells him with a theatrical sigh. "CO's orders. I have to be able to dead drag a body." Then she grins up at Tori, laughing. "I have the distinct impression that no one will screw with me as long as you're around," she teases the woman. Adelaide gets a warm smile and a nod. "Evening, Crewman."

MacGregor gives an eyeroll to Melia and smirks "I pray to the gods that it's not me you have to drag anywhere." and shakes his head. He gives Praetoria an appraising once over, "Yeah, you have a couple muscles." and winks, "Though I'm not sure she really needs a body guard…She's quick."

Praetoria smiles towards Adelaide, recalling her from yesterday's fiasco at the firing range, a tilt of her head as she remembers the interesting dynamics between her and the JAG. She also is quite aware of the internal war being played with wanting to join the man in the pool or to remain with a crowd. Sweeping the Master Sgt's form, a subtle smile lifts her lips as she ponders the ability to dead drag him herself. Though where, she'd never reveal. She speaks little, but observes much.

Melia crinkles her nose at the big man, laughing quietly. "If it's you I have to drag out of a firefight, I'll just hook you to a shuttle for the drag." It's clear she's kidding, though. "And while I'm quick, I'm apparently a bit more clumsy than I should be. My hand to hand isn't anywhere near as good as it should be. The firearms is a LITTLE better than it was. How about you? Here to work out?"

Adelaide turns around from the pool and glances around the gym again, she pivets on her toes chewing the side of her mouth. She hums softly still not sure what she wants to do, she still has that dinner to work off. With a sigh she heads towards the rowing machine, settles herself down to programs the tention then begins to row steadily.

Praetoria's hazel eyes glance towards Adelaide who walks to the rowing machines, then trains her eyes once more on MacGregor, taking in his easy going manner, even the way he seems protective of Melia. That, in itself garners him points with her. "So, Marine," her head cants as she considers the man before her, "Talk much?"

Melia hipchecks Tori on her way past, laughing quietly. "He's a Marine," she comments, tone dry and teasing. "Of course he doesn't talk much. Well, unless you can translate grunts and growls." She drops her duffle and eyes one of the treadmills before giving Tori a "Mom, do I GOTTA" kind of look. "You going for a run with me tonight?"

Praetoria returns her steady gaze to Melia, "You talkin' to me, Dolly? Or the Marine playing Silent Man? If its me, I'm always up for a run."

Melia grins up at Tori and hops onto the treadmill. "I was looking at you, wasn't I," she replies to the other woman. "C'mon, put those legs to some other use than kicking ass. He's lost in thought. He'll find the breadcrumb trail back eventually." Melia CLEARLY doesn't want to do the whole running thing, but she's going to do it anyway.

Praetoria pads after her, opening up her duffle to extract her sweats. Tossing off the robe, she shimmies into them and takes her place beside Mel, setting the controls to a comfortable pace. "Dear gods, Mel. Do you know how frakkin' long its been since I've run? You owe me cake, if the Mess can recall how to make it."

"A combat medic must maintain optimal fitness levels to ensure that commission of duty is achieved in a timely manner," Melia quotes with a grin. "And if I have to do it, you have to do it." Pause. "Or something. You probably get better workouts from your patrols of the ship than I do from changing bedpans."

Praetoria makes the talk talk talk sign with her hand, keeping up with Melia's comfortable run. "Bed pans? Good gods. For that I'll run with you, even to get you out of that Hades."

Adelaide rows for a few more moments then stops she turns her head towards the poor and sighs, finally deciding to get up off the machine, she wonders over towards her bags and grabs a towel. Leaving all her stuff under the bench she makes her way over towards the pool and slips through the door. Unlike Phelans exit there's no splashing.

Melia laughs quietly and shakes her head. "It's not that bad," she says quietly. "And it helps the nurses. Anything I can do to help out is a good thing. I help them, they help me out with my practicals and let me shadow them when they're doing procedures. Considering I'm studying to be a dcotor now, it's helpful."

Praetoria hasn't broken a sweat yet as she speaks to Melia, "Hey, kid. You didn't even invite me to your promotion. What's up with that?" As the Sheriff enters, she gives a nod and a brief smile.

Mellie's on a treadmill, looking kind of like the cat who gets taken for a walk on a leash. She's really not a fan of the whole "running" thing, and it shows on her face. "It was just something small and not really a big deal," she tells Tori with a small smile. "The Sheriff came and stood up for me, then we had a cigar afterward. I…it didn't feel right having a celebration, you know?" Tori's not sweating, but Mellie is starting to.

Eli slips into the Gym, in sweats, towel draped around his/her neck and ice blue eyes scanning the area warily as she heads towards the weights, giving Praetoria a chin-up and Melia gets a little two-fingered salute, crack in her usual stony exterior as she winks and chuckles, starting to select how much she's going to bench/curl whatever today, expression sobering back up.

Praetoria snorts, "And you're up to bedpans? Frak me runnin', girl. What were you doin' before??" Now, a glistening appears on her caramel skin, though looks more like one of her old photo shoots where they spray her with a bottle for that 'glowing look', "You better get another commission real damn fast.

Ahhhh, Mellie brightens at seeing Eli and the smile goes from ear to ear. "Evening, Sheriff," she calls, clearly delighted. Then she glances over at Tori and laughs. "The Major used to only let me change bed linens," she says, trying for the solemn look and faily miserably. Yes, it's Mutt and Jeff on the treadmills.

It is kinda hard to keep a certain physique when you're not taking tetesterone-orsomething or another, really. But Eli does her best, and succeeds, selecting hand-weights and listening to the conversation, replying softly. "Evening." To both the ladies as she starts to prepare for her workout.

Praetoria drawls, "And now you can add bedpans to your resume." A shake of her head, "And you're working your way…where? Measuring urine output? And how long do you have before you can be let loose on your own?" A smile of her full mouth towards her boss and then a quick hazel hued eye sweep over Bell as she asides to Melia while trying not to throw up on the treadmill.

The small medic is on one of the treadmills, looking like a cat being taken for a drag on a leash. Tori, on the other hand, is making going for a run look good. Mellie grins over at Eli and calls, "Good luck, Sheriff. They're not biting tonight." Then she tilts her head toward Tori. "A few years until I'm able to treat patients on my own, honestly. Besides, I'm the one dragging YOUR butt out of firefights after you take a bullet," she comments. "Well, with Gunny's help." Gunny being, of course, D'Artanion, yet another Marine.

Eli is over at the weights, handling not crazy but significant amounts of weight. Counting through gritted teeth as she just nods firmly to Mellie annnnnd 1, and 2, and 3….etc.

Bell makes her way into the gym, dressed down in sweats, a pair of sparring gloves looped on a string over one arm. She's humming softly to herself. Some Caprican pop song from before the fall. It's decidedly jaunty.

Yeah yeah yeah. There's still a part of her vain enough to be happy her scar isn't visible. Tori feels a rivulet of sweat streak down from her temple, a slight trembling coursing through her. Gods, she hated to sweat. "Alright, I'll give you that. You're one tough girl in a firefight and you already know you can drag my sorry ass out at a dead drop. So, do I need to sign your dance card sayin' you did it already?" Yes, my friend. Long gone are the days when she could whine to her modeling agency that she shouldn't have to work out. She made 10,000 cubits a day. Setting her sights momentarily on Bell, she chuckles and remarks to Mel, "Look out, girl. She's armed."

Melia looks over toward Bell and grins. "Evening," she calls. Apparently anything to distract her from the fact that she's running. In place. On a treadmill. Next to a bloody frakking model. It's like Mutt and Jeff up there. "Nah," she tells Tori. "Boss knows I can do it. I just need to get some more experience in before I can be set loose with patients. I've been shadowing the Major and Captain Reighner." Pause. "Well, I shadow him when the Major makes him."

Eli might be watching the girls run, from where she's pumping iron, squinting and shaking her head slowly from time to time as she clears her throat, pumping iron, lalala, eyeing Bell thoughtfully and tilting her head to the side, exhaling shakily.

"Hi!" Bell breaks off her humming to pipe at Melia and Praetoria. She leaves them to their running, though. That's not her destination. She heads over to the heavy bag and starts putting on her gloves. Preparing to go mano-a-bag with it. Another "Hi, Sarge" is piped at Eli as she gloves up.

Praetoria's breathing is becoming labored, at least for her taste. "Give me a few more minutes and you can dead drag me down to sickbay. Hermes on a crutch." She'll be gods damned if the terrier at her side will get the best of her. "Can't I just get by on my looks, Mel and not be…healthy? I swear to gods you are one dead garden gnome."

Melia glances up at Tori, grin impish. "What? You're going to let me outrun you," she asks, all too innocently. "You mean, I can actually run farther than you can?" Oh, yes, definite challenge there.

Eli nods to Bell, exhaling shakily and clearing her throat, offering. "Whoever runs the furthest, when I get leave I'll take out for dinner on the Carina or something." Inhale as she increases her weight, exhaling upon pump, gritting her teeth.

<Trait Roll> Bell rolls Unarmed_Combat and achieves a degree of Good (4).

"You okay, Sheriff?" Bell asks Eli, tilting her head quizzically at the Master at Arms. But she doesn't press. She's got bag to hit. And hit it she does, starting with a few shift jabs. Once she gets going, she watches Tori and Melia out of the corner of her eye. As this appears to be a competition of some sort.

Praetoria mutters, "Shit," and knew the moment it left her mouth Mel'd be on that like a bone. She slows down incrementally until she's doing one stride for her friend's two, maybe three. Ah…that's better. She shakes out her arms, opens and closes her hands and grins over to Mel. Yeah. How's that run goin' now, girlfriend? At Eli's offer, she looks down and realizes she never put on the pedometer. Frakkin' hades.

Mellie perks up as Eli makes the officer, then grins, broadly. "I'm craving meat," she says, utterly and completely innocently. Apparently innuendo is lost on Terrier. "C'mon spider legs," she tells Tori. "There's no way I'm letting you beat me to steak." She reaches out to tap her treadmill, starting the count. "We'll be at this awhile, I think."

Eli's eyebrow raises as Eli puts down a weight, snagging her towel to pat at her face and head, draping the towel around her neck and unzipping her jacket. She just nods slowly to Bell. "Just took a little extra weight today, I'll be okay." Then over to Praetoria and Mellie she just watches with interest.

<Trait Roll> Bell rolls Unarmed_Combat and achieves a degree of Mediocre (2).

"Ooo! I should totally hit the weights later," Bell babbles to Eli. "My biceps are, like, totally not bad-ass enough yet. Which the toasters don't really care about, but I need to look as hard-core as I can to fit in with the rest of you guys. Who's winning?" That question seems directed to Praetoria and Melia. She's become more interested in watching them than threatening her bag. Her next punch whiffs off it in a weak swipe. She frowns, withdrawing her wrist and shaking it to reorient her attention.

Praetoria's full mouth lifts in a smile towards Mel, "You just might be." It now appears Tori is sauntering along like she's window shopping. Besides her boobs were dying. She wore a frakkin' swimsuit, thinking she'd like be, well swimming. Who wears a sports bra under a swimsuit. She'll let her little pooch have her day in the sun. Her sweats are definitely losing this battle and she knows another trip to the laundry is in the offing.

Melia humphs at Tori, crinkling her nose. "You're no fun," she tells the much taller woman. "Of course, I mean if you're worried about getting older and…ah…gravity making running more difficult for you…" Oooh, someone's apparently a little competitive. She's now sweating freely, curls plastering to the side of her face.

Adelaide moves out of the pool area, she's still dry and the towel is still around her neck, she looks a little off sorts as she moves towards the door, with a shake of her head she slips out into corridor.

Eli mmhms softly to herself, shrugging to Bell. "I don't know…" She's mesmerized for some reason, toying with her towel and then frowning. "You want /what/ kinda arms?!" She double-takes at Bell then blinks. Boobies, Bad-asses…wha?!

<Trait Roll> Bell rolls Unarmed_Combat and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

Bell's winces at all the talk of gravity. It's enough to get her attention back on the heavy bag. Punch, punch. "Bad-ass ones," is her reply to Eli.

Praetoria looks down at said boobs and wrinkles her nose, "I'm not gonna even worry about that for a damn long time, sugar." Small curls now spring to caress her temples and she reaches for her towel to sop up the excess. Her eyes follow the little crewman and she shakes her head in a mix of amusement and regard, "Love sucks. Easier to just get frakked and move on." She doesn't think she ever wants to know a person that fully.

"Who said anything about love," Mellie asks, cocking her head to the side. She looks to Eli in askance, as if she'd know where it came from. "Getting frakked and moving on can be good, I guess. But frakking someone else, from what I understand, can be fun too. It's supposed to be mutual, I think." She mentions that to Tori, of course. "As far as the future, well…I'm afraid tomorrow comes all too soon, darlin'." Yes, she's trying to taunt Tori into a challenge.

"You mean…getting some shape or just bulking up, you'd look kinda weird if you were…all hunked up." Eli drawls, eyes flicking back to Praetoria and Mellie and she scratches her chin, sauntering closer to lean against a piece of work-out equipment more comfortably as she watches the competition, grimacing and starting to turn red as she just exhales slowly and coughs. "Frakkin's fun but you're never fulfilled. Making love…harder to come by, more mutual but ever more meaningful, even if you go your separate ways ya know? Got the memory, nothing bad in the memory and love doesn't need to be sucky."

"Hunked?" Bell's nose wrinkles. She stops punching, extending her arms, peering at them analytically. "Hmm. You may have a point, Sheriff. I'd still like to be properly intimidating, though." In pursuit of that, she returns to punching and heavy bag. And kicking it. Melia and Praetoria are working the treadmills. Eli's watching the running, from the iron-pumping area.

Praetoria's eyes sweep Melia, her body walk/running at a languid gait, "If its notches on your bedpost, my little gnome, I know I had you beat years ago. Though, I will be your sparring partner and promise not to mess up that pretty face." Her head turns slowly, watching the Sheriff with a speculative eye as she speaks. "Not so bad if you can remain friends. It's when one starts marking his territory that you just want to take a shock baton to them." As Coates arrives, she offers him a slow smile, hoping he thinks that last part about the baton is directed towards him.

It would appear there's a running competition going on on the treadmills, even though Mellie looks rather like a cat who's being taken for a drag on the leash. She's sporting a lot of sweat and one hell of a black eye with that smile. "You have a bedpost left," Mellie asks Tori, eyes crinkling at the corners. Then she nods to Eli. "Exactly, Sheriff."

Eli nods slowly to Bell. "If you give me…well okay, I might be able to write you up a workout regimen to get you some more tone in your arms but you really don't need it…honestly." Then attention goes back to Praetoria and Mellie as s/he slips out of her jacket, folding it overan arm as she lowers her lashes, chuckling lowly and thumbing the side of her nose.

<Trait Roll> Bell rolls Unarmed_Combat and achieves a degree of Superb (6).

Bell stays well out of the bedpost conversation. Punch, punch, punch. Kick! Her foot slams into the heavy bag. "Maybe it's not tone I want so much as…*power*!" she says decisively. Another kick. WHAM!

Praetoria meows at Mel's comment, giving her an affectionate look. "My little girl is growing up. I love you." She sticks out her tongue, having achieved her goal and now finds that well spring of energy she'd been conserving and begins sprinting. "I'll turn you into a fair bitch yet, darlin'." She gives an all encompassing wink to those nearby.

Does Coates think the later half of the statement to be directed at him? He might have, had he heard it. With a towel drapped over his shoulder he walks from the main entrance out to the hall, and stops in his tracks to look among the numbers already here. Outnumbered, and not in a good way; since the subjects were marines. He doesn't offer a wave nor a nod of his head, and makes directly for the nearest untaken treadmill. He hangs the towel on one of its handles, and hops onto the machine.

Mellie starts to respond, then catches sight of Coates. There's a brief slowing of the running on her treadmill, then she catches herself. "Evening," she calls to the poor man, brightly. Then her attention turns back to Bell, Eli and Tori and she realizes that Tori's taken off. Rather than three steps of hers to every one of Tori's, she's now having to take four. At least. Here comes the sweat. "Not really," she tells Tori, starting to pant a little. "Bad knees." Let her figure that one out.

Eli looks up from where she's standing again to just eye Coates quietly before looking back over to the girls here. First Bell, "Muscles don't give you power…but I'll work with you if you want." Then finally back over to Praetoria and Mellie. "How's it going?"

<Trait Roll> Bell rolls Unarmed_Combat and achieves a degree of Great (5).

"Sure!" Bell pipes an affirmative to Eli. "I'm always looking for somebody else to spar with, if nothing else. And if you exercise by yourself, you just get into a rut. Look at what competition can do for you." That's said with a nod toward sweaty Melia and Praetoria. She spots Coates, and gives the other Marine a vaguely familiar nod, but she's more occupied with kicking at the moment. She tries to incorporate a jump into it this time. Kickbox!

Coates takes to running, with so little as a shrug to Melia and Bell in response to their greetings. His pace starts to be a steady jog, but quickens at such a pace that might be seen as relaxed, casual even, in his earliest approach to exercise for the day. He takes a look toward those that intend to spar with an uncharacteristic gleam of interest to his eyes before getting back to the treadmill; a lack of focus that might send him bass over ackwards.

Melia's comment halts Praetoria in mid run, causing her to stumble in amazement. "Holy gods, I really underestimated you, Terrier." She now official declares Mel the winner and new champ. As Bell shows her enthusiasm there is a soft chuckle expelled from her throat. Yeah, if Mel's a Terrier, that one's a pit bull. She removes the top to her sweats, revealing the swimsuit beneath and moves to the water fountain to replenish the liquid lost. "I owe you one of your nasty ass vegetarian food crap things, Mel. My treat."

As Tori goes off the back of her treadmill, Mellie continues for a few more steps then finally gives up, slowing down. She's soaked with sweat now and looking like she's going to melt. The makeup that was covering the shiner is now gone, melted down her face. "Mmmm. I get vegetarian dinner AND a dinner on Carina," she says, trying to cool down slowly. But finally she just falls off the back of the treadmill and taps it off. "Oh, Gods. This is going to hurt tomorrow." She flashes Eli a wry grin. She's also not really looking at Coates now.

Eli's eyes flick between Melia and Coates, back and forth and forth and back and her eyes narrow dangerously for a few moments before she runs her fingers through her hair. "I'll take you both out, no worries, got nothing else to do in my spare time." Then she frowns at Bell. "Spar? You'll kick my ass you realize." A hint of a smirk. "But anytime, anywhere, just let me know."

Bell is an ankle-biter. But she can bite. Punching bags, at least. She's sweating herself by now, so she doesn't punch anymore. She just jumps in place a few times, then goes into some cool-down stretches. Melia's shiner is blinked at, when she catches sight of it. "Whoa…" she murmurs to herself. But she does not ask. To Eli, she grins. "I wouldn't bet on it. It'd be a good fight, at least."

Coates picks up speed; taking himself to a full out sprint upon the machine that allows him so by adjusting with his pace over time. He doesn't have any make-up himself to rum, but if he did, it would have been running soon. His hands don't bother with the handles, pumping out a pattern in tandem with his legs as he moves forward (though in place; so forward, in a metaphorical sense of improvement). His gaze is even locked forward, across the room in not so much as moving to the others.

Praetoria says, "Come on, little girl," Tori stands over Mel and then sings a song from long ago, hips gyrating and her hands in the air as she dances. Then with a beckoning of her hands, she teases for Mel to follow, still continuing to dance, "Tell me what you want, what you really really want…" She kicks off the pants to her sweats leaving her toned, suit-clad body with her flared hips, long legs and caramel skin exposed, "Water fight! Last one in, Terrier!" And off she goes to cool down in the water. Over her shoulder she calls, "Sheriff, you are such -bad ASS-!"

Mellie just looks at Tori for a very long moment, head tilting to the side, then she begins to dance, too - badly. Child has NO rhythm at the moment. Then she just watches the other woman dash off to the pool, blinking. "But," she says, a little late. "I don't have my swimsuit?" Poor lost little woman, utterly baffled. She looks to Bell and Eli for help.

<Trait Roll> Eli rolls Willpower and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

<Trait Roll> Eli rolls Strength and achieves a degree of Mediocre (2).

Eli chuckles softly to Bell. "I might've been the top of my specific art back home but things fade over time Private. So we'd see." She then frowns and her concentration drifts over towards Praetoria, eyes widening slowly as the clothing goes off and she twists at that towel around her neck a bit. Then double-takes at Mellie and then back to Praetoria and then she runs a hand over her face.

Coates takes himself as far as he can go, though not in distance. He settles with a sigh as swift as he had begun and rides the swift current of the treadmil track to the end, than off. His feet hit the ground in tandem, and he moves around to grab the towel. He wipes himself down first, than the handles he had briefly held out of routine. He walks to one of the unnoccupied heavy bags, though not the one that Bell had used. He gives it a push, in testing the weight of it against the strength in his arm alone. He scoffs, and looks to the others. The situation of which he has no concern or part causes an amused smirk to find his lips in near-trademarked manner.

Bell blinks at Praetoria, offering Melia only a hopeless shrug. Amazon bathing suit MP? The terrier's on her own. "I gotta hit the showers." And off she goes, to do just that. "Later, Sheriff!" she pipes as she goes. She manages to make it sound like a promise rather than a random good-bye.

Praetoria drags at Melia, "Wear your sweats or take them off." And with that, she dances poolside.

Torran makes his way through the door of the gym and looks around. He moves to the lockers and changes into something he can swim in then heads for the pool.

Melia bites her lower lip for a moment, head cocking to the side. Then she glances down at her soaked tank tops, considers them for a moment, and reaches out to peel the top one off. "What the hell," she says. "I'm soaked anyway." She grins, yanks the top tank over her head, then starts to peel out of her sneakers.

<Trait Roll> Coates rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of Good (4).

<Trait Roll> Eli rolls Willpower and achieves a degree of Mediocre (2).

<Trait Roll> Eli rolls Strength and achieves a degree of Good (4).

<Trait Roll> Eli rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of Good (4).

Oh bloody hell…Eli gapes after Praetoria and Melia, with her eyes, turning slightly as she kicks something over accidentally, swearing and quickly putting the light weights back in place as she groans and shakes her head slowly.

First, a testing blow. Coates sends a jab of his right hand into the bag. His form is good, and the target jolts accordingly with a satisfying thud and creaking of chain. He follows up with a jab of his left, warming up as the bag jumps yet again. Not bad. This is his warm-up, it would seem, or he is just not that intent to do much of anything. In taking short pause, his gaze shifts back to the others with his indifferent amusement, regardless of the stripping marines. A scoff, and a light chuckle. He isn't so intent to run over and re-introduce himself to those he hasn't already, however.

Melia's about to head into the pool when Tori comes back -out- again, sans dripping wet. Apparently she didn't even make it in. Out the door the woman goes. So Melia pauses, shoe in hand, nose crinkling. "Well, hell. Swimming alone isn't fun," she mutters. And back on the shoe goes before she's reaching for the discarded tank. "You alright, Sheriff," she calls across the gym, brow furrowing slightly in concern.

<Trait Roll> Coates rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of BeyondSuperb (7).

Eli freezes before just nodding slowly to Melia, eyeing the woman for a few moments before scratching her cheek. "I'm fine. Just uh, maybe strained something." She eyes the tank and then looks back to Melia, glancing towards Coates questioningly.

Coates immediatly snaps back to his focus upon the punching bag as he finds himself looked upon in return. He paces a bit backward, and rather than sending another right in succession of his former pattern, he sends a left hook. It strikes the bag with such a unpredictable force that it starts to swing like a pendalum full of sand on a wire. It comes back toward him, and by the grace of this refound attention he dodges it to the side, rather than taking a blow of his own to the junk. It seems that he has even surprised himself with this show of force.

Melia grins at Eli, studying the Sheriff for a moment, then nods. "Just making sure you're ok," she says quietly. But then Coates catches her attention and her eyes go just a little wide at that power. Yeah, someone's impressed. No, she doesn't respond to Eli's unspoken question.

Eli straightens up where she's putting weights back, tossing his/her jacket over something and going back to toying with her towel as she just watches Coates with a quirk of an eyebrow, looking back to Melia. "Who's that sir?" Voice serious for a moment.

Coates lets the bag swing once or twice more before aiding it to stop, rather than continue slowing down on its own. He waits until it has stabilized completely, rather than striking it again just yet. His eyes shift to the others in the room with a wide eyed response of his own, wondering if he had been the only one to merely see that action, let alone cause it. Unsure of whether or not he should continue, he lets out a long whistle in keeping a palm on the target, secretly hoping that the bag shouldn't burst open and shower him with the contents like a spiteful exit wound.

Melia cocks her head slightly toward Eli and smiles a bit. "Gunnery Sergeant Coates," she says quietly, watching him go at the bag again. Her lower lip goes between her teeth. Then she glances up at Eli, a brow quirking a bit, silent question time. Again.

<Trait Roll> Coates rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

Eli's eyes narrow at Coates thoughtfully as she idly cracks her knuckles and nods slowly to Melia, thoughtful expression on her face. "How well do you know the Gunny then, sir? He seems to have a wicked hit there…"

Coates takes the time that he has to cool down, throwing his towel from the shoulder it was perched on to give himself a better range of motion. He brings up his fists, with even his elbows mere inches apart in more of a kickboxing stance than anything. He bounces up to his toes from his heels a couple of times to test himself before sending a sweeping kick of his shin against the bag. The impact is moderate, more easily compared to the warm-up blows. But after his pause, isn't that what he was doing once again? For the most part he runs ignorant of the conversation being done at his expense, being out of earshot and in focus all at once.

Melia hesitates for a moment, glancing up at Eli again. "Not well," she says softly. "We've seen each other in the halls once or twice, not really talked too much." It's true, they didn't talk that much.

<Trait Roll> Coates rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of Great (5).

Eli just closes her eyes for a moment before sighing and shaking her head slowly "Is he the one?" That's all she asks curiously, crossing her arms over her chest and just watching him with that same thoughtful expression on her face.

Coates gives in another try. Another sweeping kick of his right leg for intended impact with his shin. The impact this time is loud, a thump and a pop rolled into one immediate auditory reaction. Warm up time might be over, since he's bouncing steadily on his toes now, mostly in place, but occassionally in rotation around his target of focus. He seems to be getting a little swifter in timing between blows as well, prepping to throw a few combos with his pacing.

Oh, this is definitely an oh-shit moment. Melia has the curse of everything showing on her face, so she really doesn't even have to answer Eli. Though, she does avert her face slightly, looking back to the man at the bag, wincing just a little at the audibles. "If I say yes, you have to tell him," she comments quietly, voice low. "If I say no, you'll know I'm lying to you." She reaches up to touch her eye, briefly, absently. "Think you could take him in a sparring match?" When in doubt, distract.

<Trait Roll> Coates rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of Great (5).

Eli's expression hardens as she just grinds her teeth together and bows her head. "I'm going to tell him anyhow, sir-little one, so doesn't really matter what you say, I had an order." She murmurs softly before frowning and looking Coates over, up and down, shrugging. "Maybe. We'll see." Hands cup her mouth as she uses Marine lungs. "'Ey Gunny! You lookin' for a partner?"

Coates dances around the target, than into it. First it's a jab with his right hand, than a heavy elbow against it. The routine is that reversed with his left. He moves continuously, giving no mind to the fact that his foe is an imobile, and non-sentient being. Each successive strike relays a loud /thwap/! But, does little to move it in comparison to his much earlier punch. Maybe he had just underestimated his exerted force. With a sound directed into his direction he stops at an instant and turns toward the source. His hands fall to his sides, and he tilts his head. A beggining in walking toward the questioner, Eli. "Always," he replies in mirrored volume. "So long as you're not talkin' bout my love life."

Melia starts to say something to Eli, but then she makes that shout. And then Coates responds. She blinks at him and looks first incredulous, then offended. "Hey, uncalled for," she says indignantly. "Sheriff'll turn your ass into last week's garbage." Yes, she's apparently quite defensive of the Marine. Lips purse and she folds her arms over her chest, looking between the pair.

<Trait Roll> Eli rolls Willpower and achieves a degree of Great (5).

It takes alot of Willpower, it really really does for Eli to just stare at Coates at that comment, brow furrowing as she nods towards the mats, starting to move so she can tape up her hand, idly cracking her neck and replying smoothly. "Careful though, word gets out you got a penchant for bending over Gunny, gonna have to be careful to not drop the soap in the showers." She glances towards Mellie with a grateful bow of her head. At least she has somebody here to patch her up if she gets beat up here. Hands taped up, she thumbs the side of her nose and looks Coates over from head to toe thoughtfully. "Rules, guidelines, preferences?"

"No offence intended," Coates replies with a shrug after taking a couple steps further along. "I'm just not looking for drama… or trouble," he adds. His smile remains at amused lengths throughout. He thinks on the question for a moment. "I go with whatever the other wants," he states. "But I would suggest full protection." He doesn't state this in derogatory manner or superiority, it is a change in the least for that matter. Surprise of surprises, he pulls some athletic tape from his pocket and begins taping up his hand and wrist on the way over in routine practice without even an eye to check on procedings.

Melia's lips purse slightly as she moves to watch the pair, taking up a stance just outside of the ring, arms folded over her chest. "This isn't going to end well," she mutters quietly to herself. But she's hopeful.

Eli also moves with practiced ease, wiggling fingers and shrugging a shoulder. "I'll go as far as mouth guards, rest is just a hassle, Caprican Four Limb boxing here, not as much with the gear." She does take up a defensive stance though, narrowing her eyes and toying with a mouth guard.

First hand finished, Coates moves onto the other in wrapping it up to preffered layering and grip. The bin of linked kickboxing gloves allows him to easily pick one more suited to his size, rather than the vast assortment of 'to-be-washed' collection. He slides either over his hands and tightens them at the wrist without looking to either. His eyes are moreso shifting between Eli and Melia. He puts in a mouthguard, again from the unused collection out of forethought. He claps his hand together twice and than grins in moving until before Eli. He brings up his own guard, and puts some movement into his limbs in avoiding going rigid. "I'll still stick with the gloves, myself," he states. "You do what you like." At that he tilts his head to either side, and concludes his part of the conversation.

Melia watches the pair closely - though she's not going for the medkit yet. She remains quiet, for once, still.

Eli eyes Coates with his gloves and sighs softly to herself, moving to get a pair of herself, slipping her mouth guard in and carefully slipping on her gloves and shrugging her shoulders. "It's your party." Is managed behind the guard as she raises her gloves, adjusting her stance and just watching Coates like a hawk.

Coates takes a moment to take a look over at Melia and the black eye, no less of a grin for it either. He takes a moment to put forward his right fist in a gesture to be bumped as starter for the match. Not so much a boxing gesture maybe, but a kickboxing one for sure. "We'll be competing for the first blow here," he starts. "Because I give nothing away for free." And at that he's back to it, whether Eli bumps or not, bouncing from heel to toe in taking a couple steps back and re-raising his gaurd.

For once, Mellie isn't smiling. She doesn't seem to be glaring at Coates, but she's clearly not happy about something. Lips purse slightly as she looks between the pair.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Superb <Roll2> Coates: Superb

<Result> DRAW!

Eli does bump fists with Coates with a stony expression, one that tightens at that grin and she just bows her head to acknowledge what is said, offering around her guard, "To 4, it is too easy to hit once." That's all she's going to say as her other hand is quick to jab out in a testing little right jab, feeling out her opponent.

Nope, he lost the competition for first blow. Coates instead has the courtesy to be first to react instead. He reacts, but barely quick enough at that. The blow strikes the forearm of his left guard in being closed upon reation. There is a red mark left, and his guard bounces back; his own fists nearly pummeling himself in the face. He seems to take it in stride though, as there is no loss to his smile. The throws a test of his own, though a sweeping shin kick at mid-drift as he had done to the punching bag.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: Mediocre <Roll2> Eli: Good

<Result> Eli WINS by 2.

Eli's leg lifts reflexively to block/evade that shin kick, stance never straying far from the defensive posture, hands and such kept up and ready as she quirks an eyebrow, faking with the right and switching it up as she throws her weight behind a left hook towards Coates's face, still testing, teasing almost here.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Poor *BOTCH* <Roll2> Coates: Good

<Result> Coates WINS by 3.

With an electric slide to the left and down, Coates essentially dances his way out of the hook with relative swiftness. His left knee bends, than goes rigid in preperation for the momentum that sends him forward. The result is a left hook of his own toward Eli's face in closing the gap with as much prejudice as he can muster.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: BeyondTerrible* <Roll2> Eli: Great

<Result> Eli WINS by 7.

<Trait Roll> Eli rolls Willpower and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

Eli's hands come up in almost a v or x like shape to catch/block the fist that was coming towards his face, twisting and turning to the right, dropping the hands to slam an elbow towards Coates's sternum, reflexively really, one move flowing into the next smoothly using both her and Coates' momentum as she doesn't seem to be thinking about things, just trying to make space between herself and her opponent.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Great <Roll2> Coates: Good

<Result> Eli WINS by 1.

A direct hit, Coates stumbles back. He catches himself in stance once more though, and begins circling in stride. A little worse for wear, considering the failures on his part so far, but not yet heaving for air or coughing up blood. Some might expect a hardass like him to look the least bit pissed, but not, he's smiling a hell of a lot more than when he had even began the bout. He bounces forward, and in bringing his guard up, as if to prepare a jab from either fist he instead strikes out with his foot. A straight legged kick with some reach aimed for the thigh.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: Poor <Roll2> Eli: Superb

<Result> Eli WINS by 5.

Eli's head tilts to the side some, "One." as she just continues to watch Coates like a hawk, this is her /with/ anger management counseling so she just seem to be watching Coates for the very nuances of how his body moves to anticipate his next move, jumping back a bit out of the way at that attempted kick, arm sweeping around in a windmill like move to deflect it before she darts in again, another right jab aimed for the man's face.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Fair <Roll2> Coates: Good

<Result> Coates WINS by 1.

Unlile the last block, Coates is lucky enough to block this one with relative ease in comparing the impact. He shakes it off in setting his guard down after taking some rotation, this time counterclockwise. His breathing has deepened, even with him lacking the telling signs of fatigue; even his shoulders don't so much as sag. There is a stop in his bouncing, as he goes flatfooted against the surface, using the grip off of it to jump forward. It's a rather reckless move in comparison to the earlier blows in testing, as he brings up his elbow to strike with.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: Fair <Roll2> Eli: Fair

<Result> DRAW!

CLASH of the Titans…okay no, really clash of the elbows as Eli's own elbow comes up to block that elbow strike, or maybe she was going to attempt the same move, it is hard to tell because it is more of a brush off lucky /lift/ of an arm than a block, expression still pretty emotionless as she backs off some, counter circling where Coates is before adjusting her mouth guard with her tongue and darting in closer than before to attempt to use both her own weight and the momentum of her roundkick to sweep Coates off of his feet.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Good <Roll2> Coates: BeyondSuperb*

<Result> Coates WINS by 4.

It's a jump and a dodge, for Coates that is. He proves himself more agile than he is strong by way of acrobatic movement. He wastes no time upon landing on his own two feet either. It's his fabled left hook as he propels himself down into his target. That is, if he can manage it befoe Eli can repeal her own blow.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: Fair <Roll2> Eli: Great

<Result> Eli WINS by 2.

"Shi-" Eli just twists/turns out of that left hook, dropping her own left shoulder and crouching some before smoothly bringing her right gloved fist into an attempt at an uppercut, it really is like a complicated little dance.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Great <Roll2> Coates: Superb

<Result> Coates WINS by 1.

This one is close as well. If this was planned ahead of time, it was very carefully coordinated, and pain stakingly coreographed. Coates barely slides back from the blow as he feels Eli's fist brush up against the tip of his nose. This time it's his left elbow, but not aimed at her face, no. This time it's aimed at the shoulder, as his arm goes rigid, he ducks back into the fray.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: Good *CRITICAL SUCCESS* <Roll2> Eli: Good

<Result> DRAW!

Eli doesn't seem to really want to get hit, even when tapped in throwing herself into a blow to deflect the full force, it is obvious she has formal/military/and street based rough housing kinda training in fighting, as she ducks the shoulder that was aimed for, left uppercut this time aimed for the man's midsection, just under the second rib or so.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: BeyondSuperb <Roll2> Coates: Superb

<Result> Eli WINS by 1.

Coates takes another blow, this time to the ribs. But as before, it isn't the kind of blow to send him sprawling to the ground. He grunts a pained sound as the resulting /thwap/ from the blow brings back memories of the punching bag he had been beating on earlier. "Two," he replies. Again, there is nothing lost from his demeanor. In fact, he hasn't seemed so upbeat in a number of days. Truly one for a challenge. He rotates clockwise in mixing things up and sends a right knee toward the midsection in response, hoping to bring it in swiftly under her gaurd.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: Terrible <Roll2> Eli: Superb

<Result> Eli WINS by 6.

Eli's gloved hands come down at that lift of the knee, twisting counterclockwise seemingly into the knee as her abs tighten reflexively but she's giving a shove/using the counter momentum to try to throw the man down to the ground, or at least throw him somewhat off balance seeing as she has his knee.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Good <Roll2> Coates: Superb

<Result> Coates WINS by 2.

The push reaches his guard, and succeeds, in part. He uses the momentum of it to spin into a close form once more. His own stance sideways, but he isn't leading without a blow. He throws his left hand, not in a hook or jab, but in a straight punch as he briefly has a chance to get around the guard in the circumstances. That is, if he can pull it off.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: BeyondTerrible <Roll2> Eli: Poor *BOTCH*

<Result> Eli WINS by 2.

Once in that guard…it is a bit of a struggle, and probably looks like an awkward huddle, with some squirming in there as well as nobody exactly hits or misses or blocks or gets hit just punches are thrown and avoided and Eli just slams a knee up.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Superb <Roll2> Coates: Superb

<Result> DRAW!

The knee his blocked with his shin. For a new onlooker, it might temporarily look like a hollywood kiss, except Coates has the raised leg, rather than Eli. He doesn't bother using his reach in such close combat, as his fists temporarily fall from the list of usefull apendages. He throws his elbow instead, the right in a rough accuracy, but given the proximity, he's putting alot of his weight into it instead.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: Mediocre <Roll2> Eli: Great

<Result> Eli WINS by 3.

Eli leans back and twists to avoid getting hit by the elbow, bringing his own up and then down sharply in the general direction of Coates' face, things are getting too close and her adrenaline is starting to pump which is /never/ a good thing really when she tries to stay/keep her calm about things.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: Superb <Roll2> Coates: Great

<Result> Eli WINS by 1.

There's a match currently going on in the ring, and it appears to be a good one. Melia's standing by, watching, arms folded over her chest, lips pursed. She doesn't look overly happy, to say the least.

Yet another blow taken by Coates, as he stumbles backward out of the huddle. He shakes it off, yet again, as neither of them had managed to crippling of blow yet. The reddening on his chin shows where the blow had landed though. He smiles from ear to ear and shakes himself off once more. "3," he states. Falling back to his earliest strike in the match, he throws a kick at her midsection in force, using his shin as a surface. His bringing his guard back up is an afterthought.

<Opposed Roll> Ryder - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Ryder: Poor <Roll2> Eli: Great

<Result> Eli WINS by 4.

Praetoria slips back in, having heard through the MP grapevine that there is a smack down going on. In her hands are some ancient jujubees found in the deepest recesses of her gear from before on the Triton. She moves to the back of the room, though close enough to see the blood and gore, offering one to Melia as she stares in fascination at the two combatants.

Unfortunately, when Eli's 'heat in her eyes' translates to 'expression grows even colder' it is a good sign that she /should/ be just using her words as she adjusts her mouth guard once more, shaking out the arm that just elbowed somebody in the face, and quickly re-windmilling the other wound to deflect that kick from her mid-section, twisting to throw all her weight behind her next punch in the general vicinity of Coates' head/face she really doesn't care, she might be blocked, or she might get through. Dun dun duuuuu-oo, jujubees.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Coates - Unarmed_Combat

<Roll1> Eli: BeyondSuperb <Roll2> Coates: Good

<Result> Eli WINS by 3.

Melia glances up at Tori, offering a faint smile as she accepts one of the candies. "Thank you," she murmurs softly. "Sheriff and Gunny are sparring," she says, as if that really needs to be explained. "You doing ok?"

Crack! Coates takes the forth blow to the face in full force. His head rockets backward, and his guard brings up in full in preperation to whatever is to come next. He hits the mat with a similar noise of morbid satisaction for the more sadistic types as his air temporarily leaves him. Still in full guard for a moment on the ground, his arms to fall to either side of him in time. Despite the trickles of blood running down from a frech cut on his nose, he is outright laughing from the ground. An airy sound as he is fighting to bring air back into his lungs all at once. He find the strength to sit up, but not yet stand. "Best out of three?" He asks between heavy breaths with a tilt of his head. His hand on the ground to keep his body still in managing all of this.

This reminded Tori of her times of being a guest of the boxers in Il Venetia on Virgon, the blood, the excitement…of course this on a much smaller scale, but the same palpable intoxication of watching two athletes in the ring. At Melia's query, she nods happily, the scent of fresh soap and shampoo radiating from her skin and hair, a good indicator of her long shower from just before returning. But, ah for a bath…Another nod and her fingers delve into the large movie sized container for another, which she frowns at. Lime. Gods, she hates lime ones.

Eli tugs off her gloves, wiggling her fingers before spitting out her mouth guard as she looks down at Coates, breathing in and breathing out and breathing in and…breathing out, and just staring intently for a few moments, tilting her head to the side. "To 4." She keeps it simple, raising her hand a bit over towards Melia. "Medic." Her voice is clipped, color high but she rubs a hand over her face starting to make her way out of the ring after a small little bow to signal she's done, running fingers through her hair as she puts gloves and mouth guard and such where they are meant to be and then begins unwrapping her hands, heading for her jacket and towel.

That's all Eli has to say - Medic. Mellie jogs off for the medical kit and comes back mat-side. She goes to Eli, first, and studies the Sheriff visually for wounds. "Sheriff," she asks after a moment, arching a brow slightly.

Coates pulls himself up from the seated position and lets out an airy chuckle. His wave to Eli is done a little late, not that he would care all too much. He shakes his limbs out, making them to be alot less rigid than the blow had made them. For those yet to be in the know of Coates' personality; there would be an insight to be had at this point. He isn't in it to win or lose, but he most definatly is for the challenge at that. He brings a hand up to check his own cut as the trickle reaches his lips. He chuckles again, only not so long as before. No words spoken just yet.

Praetoria's lips pout. Actually…pouts at the completion of the match. Holy gods. She wanted more! Her arms cradle her knees, now pressed to her breasts as she rocks comfortably on one of the benches, craning her neck to see their condition. They both look the worse for wear, but she chews happily away on the multi-colored jelled candies.

Eli thumbs the side of her nose, idly cracking her neck and jerking a finger towards Coates. "M' fine sir, really. Need to hit the showers and then my bunk for a hot minute before going back on duty. See to the Gunny if it isn't too much trouble, I may have forgotten to pull my last couple of punches." S/he does lean in to whisper something to the woman before quirking an eyebrow, tossing her towel back around her neck and snatching up her jacket, waving a hand to Praetoria before glancing back to Coate and giving a little two-fingered wave to the man as well as she walks backwards towards the exit.

Eli whispers: He touches you again and leaves as much as a /bruise/ I'm breaking his hand and it'll look like an accident sir, have a nice evening.

Whatever Eli says to Mellie has Terrier's eyes going a little wide. She just blinks at the Sheriff for a moment, then turns toward Coates. "Alright, Gunny," she says quietly, taking a knee next to the man. "Gauze first." She hands a piece over to him.

Praetoria grins proudly at her boss, a thumbs up and an offer of several 'bees as she makes her way out. "Wish I'd been around for the whole thing."

Coates wipes some of the fresh blood from his wound before putting some gauze to it, as handed to him by Melia. He doesn't seem too bad for wear after the bout as he winds down, save for that cut on his nose, and continued recapturing that is. "On-duty now, are you," he comments in her direction. His outright grin has since been downgraded to an amused smirk as before. His ego doesn't seem too badly bruised either, that is, if he even has one to begin with.

Mellie quirks a bit of a smile at Coates, shaking her head. "Always, when blood's involved, Gunny," she tells him. Her head tilts as she does a visual inspection of the man, looking for other wounds. It's not an interested inspection - not the type a woman would give a man she's interested in. She's a medic, and a professional.

Praetoria observes Mel as she works on Coates and there's a satisfaction in his face, a much as the man permits it. Evidently, this is his element, his theater and he thrives in it. She continues to munch, simply watching.

The cut is deep, just not so much as to need stitches. Coates doesn't seem to be showing the pain of it either as he keeps still like a perfectly good patient. Note the like, rather than as. He isn't the perfect patient due to one searing fact, he is an abrasive bastard, of both literal and and metaphorical means. He takes the watching on Tori's part with a mutual curiosity, glancing over to her before back to Melia. "What?" he asks, in taking note of the fact that they both watch him in tandem. "These pants don't got a noticable zipper, so it ain't that."

Mellie quirks a brow as she looks up at Coates, head cocking to the side. "Your zippers hold no interest to me, Gunny," she says simply. "Noticable or not. I'm more interested in whether or not you're going to bleed out on the floor." She flashes him a grin and reaches into the kit for antisceptic ointment. "Hold still, Gunny. This'll be quick, you won't feel a thing." She leans in, though pauses before actually touching him, quirking a brow and waiting for permission. Another woman might have added "Or is that your line," but not Mellie. It would appear, black eye and all, she's either too professional or too innocent to even think of it.

Praetoria tilts her head slightly, hazel eyes on the man, a slight purse of her lips in amusement. "Coates, I swear to the gods you have the brass balls of a much less intelligent man. Always thinking the crotch is the one frakkin' focal point on your body." Another candy is popped into her mouth, jaw working slightly. Mel is next in her line of sight, and she's a might proud of her friend's professionalism and expertise in her treatment. She'll make a fine doc.

Coates shrugs and moves the gauze from his nose in allowance of access. "I've done this before," he states toward Melia on the subject of anti-septic cream. "You don't spend this look in the Marines without getting your ass kicked." He tilts his head. "And why the lie?" he says with a wink. "We both know it hurts like a bitch." Having said his peice on medicine, he looks toward Tori with a slight growing to his amused smile. "Are you saying I have other focal points that your so inclined to look at?" he asks in replyl to her own, possibly rhetorical question.

The Medic laughs quietly and applies the cream. Contrary to popular belief, not all medics are rough with patients. Even ones whose patients blacked their eye. Melia's touch is infinitely gentle and light. It hurts, but probably not quite as much as it otherwise would. Once the cream is applied, she reaches into the kit and goes right for a small bandage, a butterfly bandage, flesh colored. It won't show too much. Working carefully, she gets it applied without touching him more than necessary. "Keep it clean," she tells him quietly. "If it starts to ache, come to sickbay."

Praetoria lowers the candy box to take an honest assessment on the Gunny before her. "You've got a fair fine face when it isn't beat to Hades, even though I think you do this to feel alive. Nice hair and whether you want to believe it or not pleasant eyes. And a wicked bent on life." Her gaze returns to the candy container, "Otherwise, you're a rather average individual."

"You forgot my impeccable sense of dress," Coates comments. What does he have to wear? That's right, he's a marine, it's grunt clothes for him. He chuckles, as the flesh coloured bandage is applied. He nods, and that is as close to a thanks as he would ever give. He brings his hand to the bandage, flatening it out a bit more before stretching his arms out some. "Don't be doubting my hygeine, now" this is in Melia's direction once more as he straightens out. He looks around the room, seeing how much it had cleared out since he had arrived (read: three people left, one returned).

The medic straightens, kit closed and tucked together properly. "You're a Marine," she says flatly. "You'll have dirt, sweat and gods know what else in there five minutes into tomorrow's PT." She arches, stretching her back out, then glances over to Tori, smile a bit wry, considering. For a moment, she looks back and forth between the pair.

Praetoria stands, stretching lightly, her off-duties confining her upper body in the dual tanks, the blousing of her fatigues unable to hide her long legs and firm thighs. Stepping nearer, she lightly ruffles the medic's hair, sleep well, Mel." A nod towards the Gunnery Sergeant. "Don't stay up too late," added with a lusty wink.

"Oh; you're calling that dirty?" Coates replies to Melia, with a look of mock confusion on his face. To see a officer's hair ruffled by the corporal brings a quite visable grin to his lips, but he isn't about to hand out a reprimand. "What fun would that be?" he retorts in Tori's direction. No chuckle this time, but he does shrug.

Melia grins at Tori and just shakes her head, clearly amused. "Sleep well, Tori," she calls after the woman. Then her attention turns back to Coates, whom she studies as if he were an absolute conundrum. "I know Marines," she says simply. "You'll have Gods know what in that cut. It's a fact of life."

Praetoria's smile is dazzling in its softness, "Why, you'd be surprised what quality rack time will get you, Gunny." A slanted salute and then she is gone.

"No, not even the gods will know," Coates states. He fixates the bandage on his nose, knowing the bridge of such to remain unbroken as he toys with it indifferent to the pain. "The sherrif didn't knock too much sheet music out of me at least," he adds, and begins to take of his gloves. With the blood that they carry they go into the used bin to be soaped and hosed down. The athletic tape around his hands and wrists goes next, as he lost his mouthguard around the time that he took a harsh blow to the face.

"Shame," Mellie comments with an impish grin, turning to replace the medical kit in its proper location. "And quit fingering it. Your hands haven't been disinfected. You're shoving bacteria into the cut by doing that," she calls over her shoulder.

"And here I thought I was fixing it," Coates retorts. He puts his fist into another of his hands and cracks the knuckles of it, rather than feeling up his own nose. He finishes with the athletic tape off the one hand and begins on the other, not so much saving it for later as several tears along the knuckles are apparent from friction with the gloves. He shrugs, though as to what is left open for consideration.

Mellie takes her time putting away the medical kit, pulling a small notebook out of her pocket and making a note before she finishes. At least she's thorough. Then she heads over to her duffle and reaches inside, pulling out two bottles of water. One she tucks under her arm as she walks back over toward the Gunnery Sergeant, the other is offered out to him, without comment, when she gets there.

Coates takes the botttle, again without so much as a word of thanks. In twisting off the top, he looks about the room, and the ship as a whole. He takes a swig of the water, though in amount taking a generous sip. Hydrating hadn't tended to be an action he had made very often in his last couple of trips here, at least in the eyes of Melia. Distracted by the whole drinking thing, or whatever is on his mind; he doesn't say a word.

And neither does she. Given the way she moves off once the bottle's been passed off, it's clear she didn't expect it. One would think she'd leave after being in here so long, but she doesn't. Instead, she moves over toward one of the weight machines and settles in to work on her arms.

Coates doesn't seem so intent for settling on the mere machines today as he heads back to the punching bag he had been pummeling earlier. He puts the water bottle down and aside in retrieving his towel, wiping the blood from his fingertips and all over thankful that he didn't have a white one, as that would need explaining. Once again, tossing the towel aside he moves back in tandem with the source of his earlier work out.

Her attention is elsewhere - no longer on the Gunny. He's been patched up, all is well. And so goes her workout, eyes focused somewhere ahead of her. It looks like she's getting lost in thought - with no breadcrumbs to guide her home.

<Trait Roll> Coates rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

No longer smiling in the least, Coates sends his fist full on into the target. The result is a shudder up both his arm and the bag. If the punching bag hand intended to fight back, this would have been the result of a draw. Not intending to be beaten by a non-sentient being he raises his hands. This would be hell for the target, wether it knew it or not. …Likely not, you know, punching bag.

That poor bag. It's being beaten with absolutely no recourse. But such is the life of a punching bag on a ship filled with too much testosterone and too few outlets. Mellie seems well-versed in the art of doing arm curls with weights. She's one of the people voted Least Likely to be Working Out.

<Trait Roll> Coates rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of Good (4).

A little better than the last, Coates strikes the bag with his opposite hand. His eyes are on his target, or rather through it as his mind remains elsewhere. He punches again with the same hand, not so much testing as he is seeing how much damage he can cause with a series of jabs and thrown punches.

Arm curls give way to arm presses. It's as though the show has become background noise to her - there, but not really picked up on. Those things she has on her mind that she never shows are now taking their chance to play across her face. Emotions, thoughts, everything is reflected in her eyes.

<Trait Roll> Coates rolls Unarmed_combat and achieves a degree of Superb (6).

This could be the oddest example of practice making perfect, even if perfection never had been an attainable goal, for him at least. Coates' punch holds no quarter, even for himself. The left fist hits the bag with no concern for its own self. And as such, the resulting noise is all the more apparent. Even the cracking of his knuckles can be heard upon impact. Coates is brought back into reality, as his eyes go unglazed and his smirk makes an appearance. He picks up the water bottle, and the towel. Draping that latter over his shoulder, and suckling nature's dew from the former. Without so much as a wave to Melia, nor anyone, he heads for the door.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License