Fell Down Some Stairs
Fell Down Some Stairs
Summary: Gars and Ramiro have a difference of opinion again.
Date: 51 ACH
Related Logs: None

You head towards Marine Enlisted Berthings.
Marine Enlisted Berthings Genesis - Deck 10
50 ACH 6285 Souls

Marine Enlisted berthings are setup with bunks on either side of the area. Each bunk holds two marines and lockers are between the bunks for their personal items. A table sits in the center of the room with six chairs around it for use in recreation or studying. There is also a shower and changing room off this area.
----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-

"Then shut your frakking lip" Gars growls and lies down in his bunk once more, resting his head against his hands that interlock.

Hazzard is over by his locker, suiting up for onduty with combat gear as he is talking to Gars. "By the Gods man..you like burning your last bridges don't you..I respect you as a former Bastard, but seriously." he looks over towards Gars. "Accept the fraking fact, you fraked up..and I need to deal with it..Fun part, I'm not even your fraking squal leader Corporal."

The door to the berthings pops open and closes shut. It's Ramiro, with that same expressionless look on his face. Having not eaten yet, he runs a hand through his hair. "Hey Hazzard? Agree with him or not I'm gonna ask you as Squad leader not to get into any staredowns with the Major. He's the CO and we're the only SST. I wanna keep that reputation shiney." Ramiro says as he steps over to Gars' bunk, shoving it a little with his boot. "What the frak, Gars?" Suddenly, that anger comes out. He doesn't yell, but definitely grumps it.

Gars, eyes still shut, sighs as his nap is disturbed for the second time in less than a minute. Opening his eyes, he gives Ramiro a predatory stare. "Yes, Sergeant?" the words are almost harsh as they exit behind grinding teeth.

Today started bad for Sergeant Hazzard, and it turned worse as Ramiro entered and spoke up. Hazzard turns his attention over towards Ramiro and narrows his eyes. A multitude of various replies flashes through his mind as he studies the other Sergeant. "I've got things to do." he finaly says and hefts his rucksack and starts to move towards the exit.

"I'm going to prep a team meeting after PT, Hazzard. I'll listen." He adds, turning to Gars. "Get the frak up out of your bunk Corporal." Ramiro says, hands folded across his chest. He sniffs inwardly, shaking his head. "I think it's about time you and I had a little talk. I don't give a frak who you think you are or what you think you're made of but the Major gave you and I an assignment to finish regarding the MOUT and I'll be damned if I let your bitter ass throw it away. Are you a Marine or a frakking four year old, Gars?"

Gars slowly gets out of his bunk and stands up with only a few inches to spare between him and Ramiro, eyes narrow and hard as he locks them on Ramiro's own pair. "I wasnt aware I had thrown it away, sergeant. As for me being a marine or not… I believe the MOUT operation was put together to make use of my experience… Not yours, sergeant. That tells me Im more of a marine in my current state than you, Ramiro… So if you want a good MOUT run… Let me handle it and step the frak back, and you might just learn something… Sergeant."

"You've made up your mind..I'll deal and move on." Hazzard mutters as he hefts his rucksack over his shoulder and opens up the hatch. "Dont let him hurt you to much…" he says in parting words. Bastards has a certain code, and Hazzard is one of those..He knows better then to enter pointless discussion at this time and place.

"No. I haven't made up my mind, Sergeant, all I'm requesting is that we move together as a team on this one, and until we all have that talk I wanna stay in the CO's graces. No way in hell is he gonna send a bunch of insubordinate assholes unattended on deep recon, right?" Ramiro looks over his shoulder, not believing for a second that Gars would dare attack him. He turns his attention back to Gars, not giving the older marine any ground. "You…self centered bastard." Ramiro says slowly. "When we first started this MOUT project you thought I was gonna rank-railroad you and then I actually deferred to your experience. I'm the one motherfrakker around here that's given you a chance lately. When that pissant pilot gave you hell I was the one that handed you something to swing to get it out of your system." Ramiro seethes, barking in Gars' face. "YOU MAKE ME RIGHT. YOU MAKE PEOPLE LIKE ME RAISE IN RANK BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO FRAKKING STUPID TO REALIZE THERE'S COMMAND TO BE FOLLOWED." Ramiro lowers his voice. "I am not going to let you get airlocked for mutiny or busted down to a civilian for your attitude, Gars. I know you. That shit will end you. So I'm going to ask you please…listen to me. You have got to put the safety on with the brass."

"Sergeant" Gars says, all but boiling over, but subdueing the emotions by some unnatural strength. "Raise your voice to me one more time… And I will put you down. The day you outdo me in combat, is the day you get to yell at me, Ramiro. Not before. Its that frakking simple. You're a frakking do-gooder who earns rank by kissing ass… That does not earn you the right to chew me off, Sergeant. So now… You want a good MOUT or not? Cos I can give you one, so you will look good infront of the major."

"I'll raise my voice at you if I want, Corporal. I have more confirmed Cylon kills than you and per the drops I've been on I've got more experience in fighting actual Centurions than you. You may have more experience in general but in this campaign I have the numbers. Don't treat me like I'm a frakking child." Ramiro pauses. "I want a good MOUT but I'd hate to be the person to break this too you but the general around the area Corps confidence in you ranks somewhere between an old used up boot and a pile of catshit. You DESERVE the respect for putting the MOUT together as a team and don't think for a second that I plan on eating up all that credit."

"You try it, Ramiro" Gars says, eyes alight with subdued rage. "Just fraking try raising your voice." And with that, the corporal heads for the exit with quick determined steps.

"I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU." Ramiro barks, turning towards Gars. "You need to hear this and I'm the only one who might have a shred of a right to give it to you. Believe it or not, Gars, I consider you a friend. What's the matter, can handle a war but not this? If I were frakking up how would YOU deal with me."

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Ramiro - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Great <Roll2> Ramiro: Fair
<Result> Gars WINS by 2.

Gars comes to a sudden halt, whips his head around to look back at Ramiro with pitchblack eyes. What happens next is a sudden surge of violent force as the corporal suddenly is within reach and grabs the sergeant by the collar and slams Ramiro up against the bulkhead. "Let's get something straight, Sergeant" Gars growls, face close to an inch from Ramiro's. "You aint my friend. And you DO NOT raise your voice to Me!" Gars steps back releases Ramiro, aiming a finger the sergeants way, "Get that into your fraking skull." And with that, Gars heads for the hatch once more, pracically storming out, fueled by rage and anger.

<Opposed Roll> Ramiro - Unarmed_Combat versus Gars - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Ramiro: Great <Roll2> Gars: Fair
<Result> Ramiro WINS by 2.

Ramiro's eyes narrow as he is let go. Something twitches inside of him, and he decides it's time for a little marine-style justice. "I SAID DON'T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME." He barks, stepping forward. Stopping behind Gars, he grabs the Corporal's shoulder and shoves in a counter-clockwise manner to get a view of the man's face. When that's managed, he answers with a right hook to the Corporal's jaw. "Ungrateful mother…" He grunts when he sends the punch in, kicking a chair to slide against the berthing door.

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Ramiro - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Terrible *BOTCH* <Roll2> Ramiro: Good
<Result> Ramiro WINS by 4.

Taking the punch, Gars stumbles a step or two. Shaking his head, his eyes flare with heated emotion as they seem to indicate some prehistoric urge to kill. That rage though, doesnt help Gars very much as his swing at Ramiro goes wide off its mark… …

Ramiro ducks the punch and lands a square one in the Corporal's stomach. Shoving the Corporal away, he narrows his eyes and barks at the shoulder. "STAND DOWN AND LISTEN." Ramiro seethes, taking a step back, arms raised for a fistfight. "Gars you deserve more than this…this is all you understand."

Leaning against the central table, with one arm held over his gut as he tries to regain his breath, Gars watches Ramiro with dark eyes and a fierce frown. "Smug frakker…" he growls and goes in for another swing… …

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Ramiro - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: BeyondSuperb <Roll2> Ramiro: Superb
<Result> Gars WINS by 1.

Ramiro takes the hit square on the side of the face, that'll leave a nasty bruise in the morning. Head whipping to the side as Gars tosses one through his defenses, he steps forward and grabs the front of Gars' shirt. Tying in close with the Corporal, he attempts to bring a fist down into Gars' ribs but misses.

<Public> The Hulk Eli says, "I have no more shore leave."
<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Ramiro - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Great <Roll2> Ramiro: Superb
<Result> Ramiro WINS by 1.

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Ramiro - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Great <Roll2> Ramiro: Good
<Result> Gars WINS by 1.

Eli comes in from Corridor 10B.

As Ramiro tries to go in for a hit to Gars' ribs, the corporal manages to raise his elbow to connect with the sergeants jaw, forcing Ramiro back a step or two. Though, both men still has a firm grip on each others shirts, pulling them to keep the other within striking distance. One can almost expect them to try and pull the shirts over eachothers heads.

Eli ducks through the hatch, heading for her bunk, hand coming up to start unbuttoning her shirt, but she has to stop and /stare/ now lashes fluttering and her hand moving to Betty reflexively as she looks between the two and then grimaces. "Oh gods, get a bunk…" Then she continues on her way to her bunk.

Feeling Gars weaken from that shot to the stomach, Ramiro's head whips to the side with a fresh elbow in it. Another bruise for the record, alongside a split lip. Sensing his moment coming near, Ramiro suddenly brings a knee up to Gars' side to distract him from the fresh, incoming right cross to the side of the man's face. It's a haymaker.

Gars stumbles, spins and crashes down over the table, blood and spittle splashing. Lying on his back, the corporal just breathes at the moment, eyes moving as if in deep REM sleep.

Eli just freezes as she turns to see Gars fall over and then she turns to look between Gars and Ramiro and back to Gars and back to Ramiro. "…okay, seriously. What the FRAK is happening?!" She slips Betty from her side and grips the hard…thing tightly. "Seriously?"

Ramiro shakes his hand, eyebrows slightly narrowed with a split lip and a few freshly forming bruises on his face. "Corporal and I were practicing for the MOUT. We fell down some stairs on the way up to berthing. Really nasty stuff." Ramiro says, turning to Gars and starting to pull the man to his feet. "Should probably go to sickbay and get ourselves checked out. Nothing to see here. He was dizzy and fell over the table, rotten luck and all."

Gars' feet are barely able to keep him upright as a limp arm is dangling around Ramiro's neck. "Sshon o' a… botch" he mumbles through slightly swollen lips, feet dragging behind him.

Eli just gives Ramiro a /look/. It is a look that reads…'I haven't hit anything that didn't deserve it in a very very long time, I may be bleeding from parts I wish I don't have and I'm feeling hella violent right now'. So she just grips Betty more tightly and nods towards the hatch. "What…the frak ever." She sighs and just shakes her head.

"Thanks Sarge…we're just figuring things out. I won't tell them you didn't act." Ramiro says, tossing one of Gars' arms over his shoulder on the way to the door. Limping the man to the door, he reaches out and swings it open. "Make a hole…" He calls out into the hallway.

Eli just waves them past, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

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