Sparring Partners
Log Title
Summary: The Marines bond by punching and kicking each other in the face.
Date: 32 ACH
Related Logs: None

Marine Enlisted Berthings Genesis - Deck 10

32 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 >----—-
Contents: Bell Eli Gars Ramiro Marine Bunks Triad Deck Wireless
1425 — OFF

Exits: [O] Corridor

Eli glances over towards Ramiro when he enters, nodding firmly in greeting before opening up her locker and slipping her belt out of it's loops, carefully freeing Betty, the night stick, and tossing 'her' up into her bunk, followed by a roll of ace bandages and she's working on taking out her sweats as she frowns and shakes her head.

"Corporal." Ramiro says, dropping onto his bunk's edge. Sliding the curtain open, he reclines for a moment. "I'm gonna start writing up some stuff and I'm thinking within the next few days we're going to need to get our mission plan together, so make sure to get to work on that when you're on duty."

Looking up from the magazine, where he sits at the end of the table with both feet up on the same, Gars turns to Ramiro with a grumpy demenour to his features. "I already know what needs doing, sergeant" he says and turns his eyes back to the pages and the… pictures.

Bell is coming back from a PT jog. Just getting off duty. She's still jogging as she enters the barracks, padding over to her bunk in rhythm. "What needs doing about what?" she asks, butting into the conversation before she has any idea what it's about. Or even who's talking. Such is her way.

Eli just blinks where she stands. Then…blinks some more as she stands some behind her locker door, unbuttoning and unflapping and all that drama as she's working on getting changed as she leans back some to peer at Bell, then goes back to sorting through her stuff.

Sora has connected.

Nodding upwards with a smile at Bell, Ramiro keeps his water close and looks back towards Gars. "Corporal Gars and myself are developing a MOUT training for us Marines." Ramiro pauses. "Which is exactly why the Corporal has been obligated to put together detailed material on suggested training exercises rather than simply develop an internal mission statement. I, for one, am rather excited about it."

Gars drinks from his own standard issue water canteen, while reading the old and wrinkled porno he's borrowed. It seems he's satisfied with Ramiro's answer for the moment.

"Hey, Sheriff," Bell chirps to Eli. "Sergeant. Corporal." Ramiro and Gars in turn. She climbs up into her bunk, flinging the curtain open. So she can sprawl and still jabber to the room. "MOUT Training? Frakkin' sweet! What kind of course you gonna put us through, Corporal?" She sounds pumped and enthusiastic. But that's not unusual for her.

Eli waves to Bell before tugging a tank up and over her head. Thanking the gods that she has two. She reaches for her other ace bandages before eyeing all the witnesses and shoving it back into her locker as she sighs and sticks her whole head into the locker, muffled 'ARRHGARGHHKJHKHALKJHEHEEEEEEEEEEELKJKJGKGJHATWEELKJHIHFRAKKYOEH:LKF"A' against the rest of her belongings. No worries. This is perfectly healthy.

Ramiro lifts an eyebrow and looks over to Eli's locker. He blinks. "Well, bear in mind that Corporal Gars and I are going to work together to prepare this MOUT training. Team effort resulting in team effort sort of thing." Ramiro says from his bunk, relaxing back on the pillow.

Gars too looks over at Eli, with a combined baffled and angered expression to his face. Shaking his head, he returns to going through the pages of the prono-magazine, sipping water from his canteen. "I would suggest" Gars says before eventally looking on over at Ramiro, "that we simply focus on allowing the squad-leaders to concentrating their fire-power. Everything should come naturally after that."

"Okay. What do *both* have in mind to put us through?" Bell corrects. Sitting slightly out of her bunk. Legs idly dangling down to the lower one. Thankfully, it's occupant is either absent or shut up blissfully enough to ignore her swinging stocking feet. The *noises* from Eli's locker make her blink. And stare in that direction. "Err…you…okay in there, Sheriff?"

Eli pulls her head out of her locker finally, smoothing her hair back down and working on her sweats, like nothing happened. Yep. Nothing wrong here as she coughs and adjusts her dog-tags. "I'm fine. Anybody else interested in heading to the gym?"

"Yeah..I am." Ramiro says, sliding out of his bunk and closing the curtains. He looks up to Bell and gives her a toothy grin. "We're not going to use rubber training bullets. They're inaccurate. We're going to be beating muscle memory into fellow marines, but there'll be a few twists worth it for being a part of it." Ramiro moves over to Gars, slapping his shoulder. "Get that on paper, Corporal. We're going to need to work out formation drills, firing line setups, buddy system so we can dual target Centurions. Bring them down faster. We'll combine notes tomorrow." He then turns, looking to Eli, waiting for her lead.

Looking at the hand that slaps his shoulder, Gars then looks up at Ramiro standing next to him, a proper frown on his face. "Yes, sergeant. I will" he mutters and turns his attention back to the magazine.

<Trait Roll> Ramiro rolls Awareness and achieves a degree of Terrible (0).

Sora strolls into the berthing, whistling as she does. She makes her way over to her locker and pops it open, and begins to dig around inside.

Bell nods along with the stuff about formation drills, particularly when it comes to bringing down Centurions. Her gaze flickering between Ramiro and Gars. Speculatively. Some of her optimism dimming. But she shrugs. This can't possibly end badly. To Eli, she nods. "Sure! I could go another round. I've jogged for the day, but I'd kind of like to work the heavy bag." She makes a few rabbit punches at the air.

Eli looks between Ramiro and Gars and arches an eyebrow before retrieving Betty from the bunk, placing her safely in her locker, before she closes said locker with a cleared throat. She eyes Bell warily for a few moments. "…you certainly are up." Blinkblink then she nods to Ramiro and Sora, heading for the exit.

"Yeah…Staff Sergeant, we're heading to the gym and gonna figure things out from there." Ramiro says, nodding in Sora's direction as he holds the door open for Bell. "Anyone comes lookin for something to do, send them on down if you aren't coming. We might have enough for a pyramid game."

Gars looks between the gathered, sips his water and then tosses the porno he's been reading on the table. "Im up for some boxing if people are interested" he says and brings his feet from table to flooring.

Sora gets a book from her locker, as she turns to the voices. She ponders a moment, as she closes her locker and moves over to an empty spot at the table sitting down.

Bell climbs down from her bunk, hopping the last of the distance. "Wait up!" she calls to Eli, traipsing after the MaA. "You, too, Trilox! We've got to keep ourselves *pumped*." She hops in place for emphasis as she says it.

"We can't four-way box, Corporal." Ramiro smiles, retreating his arm from behind his back to show a pyramid ball. "In either case I'm heading down there to see what we can get into. See you guys down there if you come." He adds, before slipping out.

Eli pauses near the hatch at the mention of boxing, to look over her shoulder towards Gars and the others still following…then she smiles slowly. Which is rare in and of itself. Smiling that is…it isn't a very nice smile though, like a shark would smile at a choice piece of uh, salmon. All her teeth. "We'll be in the gym." That's all she's going to say as she heads off.

You head towards Corridor 10B.
You head towards Gymnasium.

Gymnasium Genesis - Deck 9

32 ACH 6285 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: Bell Eli Gars Ramiro Wireless 442

Exits: [AC] Athletics Court [O] Corridor
[P] Pool

Bell bounces down to the gym at a peppy jog that's likely to get annoying. For the other Marines, at least. She starts doing some rudimentary stretches as they enter. Limbering up.

Gars heads across the gym to find some tape. As he finally does, he tosses the jacket to the side and starts wrapping his knuckles with the tape found. Turning, he offers the others a grin. "Anyone feel for a good proper brawl?"

"Not I…" Ramiro replies, tossing the pyramid ball into the air. Catching in, he shakes his head a little on his way towards the pyramid goal that's propped against the wall. "…I bet Sergeant Manning couldn't take you, though Gars."

Eli scratches her cheek before making her way over to where the tape and such is, expertly taping up her hands with a quirk of an eyebrow, taking a deep breath and staying quiet as she eyes Gars from behind lowered lashes. "Nobody take you up on that, I will. But I think uh…Private Twink-I mean…Bell might be itchy for a good scrap…"

[Intercom] "This is the XO. Sergeant Browne, report to the High Security Brig. Master-at-Arms to the High Security Brig."

Bell sticks her tongue out at Eli for the Private Twink crack. But it makes her laugh as well. "Sure! I'll go if you'll have me, Corporal." She rabbit-punches the air in Gars' direction. "Maybe you can give me a few pointers." She hops in place some more. Blinking at the intercom. It makes her stop hopping. That's the power of the XO.

Ramiro looks up at the sound of the intercom. He looks over to Eli. "I got some MP experience…you want some backup?" Ramiro asks, starting to head towards the door already.

Gars listens to the intercom and shrugs his shoulders. "Sorry, sergeant. But, when you're done… let me know." He looks on over at Bell and takes a moment eying the girl. "You think you've got some fight in you, troop?"

Eli grumbles and shakes her head, running her fingers through her hair and jerking a finger towards Bell and Gars. "Please…just keep an eye on them. I shouldn't be long." Then she jogs right back out. The gods hate her. Then she pauses cuz Ramiro is behind her and she just turns and looks between Gars and Bell. "…okay, you can come but…you two." She gahs and just gestures for Ramiro to follow.

Eli leaves for Corridor 9D [O].
Eli has left.

Ramiro leaves for Corridor 9D [O].
Ramiro has left.

Bell raps her knuckles together, giggling as she goes to wrap up her knuckles. And take off her shoes. "I'll try. I need some practice anyway. I've kind of gotten out of the habit. We doing standard rules or Caprican Four Limb-style?" she asks. Beginning to wrap her bare feet as well. "I can do either, but I haven't been able to find a sparring partner for Four Limb here, so I'd really like to get the rust off." She turns as Eli and Ramiro go, shrugging. "What do you think that's all about?"

"Frak if I know" Gars says and flexes his fingers as best he can within all the tape, and then crunches his knuckles in either palm. "Right… gloves or no gloves? Grown some balls yet, troops?" he asks.

"Yeah, gloves," Bell says decisively, getting a pair out of the equipment lockers and tugging them on. "And I keep telling you, Corporal, that's not medically possible. I'm an inny! So, I can't use my feet, then?" She sounds a trifle disappointed. Once she's gloved she skips into the sparring area. Hopping in place some more to psyche herself up. "You've been boxing for awhile, then?"

Grinning a smirk, Gars pulls on a pair of gloves of his own. Stepping into the circle, he punches his palms to get the gloves to truly fit. "Not proffesionally" he says as he starts to move in a wide circle around Bell. "So fists only? Or anything goes?"

"I do better when I can kick," Bell says. "I broke a girl's nose once in high school. That's how we got to be best friends." She pauses, shrugging. "You kind of had to be there. Anyway, I'll leave that up to. Nothing below the belt, though. That wouldn't be fair for you. Face is okay, though!" She flashes her teeth in a smile. They're all intact. But the night is young.

Gars chuckles and grins. "Well… Last time a girl clocked me was back in kindergarten over a lollipop." The grin remains as he lifts his guard, ignoring any teeth protection. "Though I've been spanked a couple of times since then."

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

"She took your candy?" Bell is aghast. "That's just wrong. Some girls can be *so* mean, Corporal. Don't worry! I won't swipe any chocolate or anything from you after. Just *don't* go easy on me. That's no fun." She does, indeed, favor her feet, and starts off aiming a swift jab-kick at Gars' side. She's not large, but she's wiry and quick.

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

The swift kick moves in like a striking viper, but Gars is quick to block with both arms as well as side-stepping to further decrease the impact of the attack.

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Bell - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Great <Roll2> Bell: Great
<Result> DRAW!

"You're quicker than you look, Corporal!" Bell observes, hopping back a step. Hop, hop, hop. Keeping her feet moving. Movement is her friend here. She keeps dancing for the moment. Making him chase her rather than going in for another swipe. "So, you start boxing when you got in the Marines, or were you into it earlier?" She can chatter and fight. She can probably chatter while doing anything.

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

The sudden burst of power sends out quick jab that recoils just as rapdily as it struck, catching Bell dead center of her face. Her smile vanishes in an instant as her head makes a quick whiplash backwards before settling with the sudden realization of getting punched. Gars steps back a step or two, right hand held to guard his head, left hand guarding his torso. "Less talk, little girl" he says, almost growls, from behind his gloved fist. Eyes narrow, predator in appearance.

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

"I am *not* a little girl!" Bell says firmly. Though maybe less babbling is a good idea. She takes that suggestion to heart. Wrinkling her nose with a wince. That smarts. She punches her right first forward, trying to catch Gars in the nose. A little too quick for her own good. She leaves herself open.

Gars sidesteps and jabs anew, another rapid punch lashes out and connect with Bell, this time over her cheek.

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Bell - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Mediocre <Roll2> Bell: Good
<Result> Bell WINS by 2.

Instead of keeping up the attack, Gars takes a step back as soon as the hit connects. For some reason ignoring the opportunity to bring Bell to the floor, Gars withdraws a step or two instead after landing his second hit.

Bell takes one on the chin. Or cheek, on that case. Gars' fist swiping her. She springs back again. Okay! This time for real. She goes back to kicking. Her strength lies in her agility rather than brute punches. She swings a foot up and at his ear. It's not /that/ hard. She doesn't have enough momentum built up to break anything. But it's solidly aimed. "My mom thought making me take ballet classes would make me a lady!" she says, with a some triumph. "It just taught me how to kick!"

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Bell - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: BeyondSuperb <Roll2> Bell: Good
<Result> Gars WINS by 3.

Gars stumbles as the kick hits the side of his head, the man turning his back on Bell as he rubs his aching ear. Straightening his back as Bell talks behind, he rolls his shoulders as he tosses a glance back at her. If eyes could kill. Then, one step, Gars spins, landing his elbow right over the bridge of Bel's nose, sending the poor girl off her feet and on her ass onto the floor, the full strength of his arm released in the sudden assault on the enlisted marine. "I told you" he growls as he looks down on his downed opponent, "You talk too much."

Bell has finally built up that momentum. So she goes spinning when Gars strikes her nose. Sprawled. Indeed, on her ass. Her nose is bleeding but she doesn't seem seriously broken. "Oh, frak," she says nasally. Pushing herself to her feet. Going to grab a towel to sop her nose in. She's grinning a little. "How'd you do that, Corporal? I could've *sworn* had your right side open." She tilts her head back.

Snatch comes in from Corridor 9D.
Snatch has arrived.

"Some advice, troop" Gars says as he removes the gloves from his hands. "Stop the chatter and start thinking instead. If you'd hit me instead of talking, you might have done some damage. Just like in real life; the more politicians talk, the less time marines gets to kill." The gloves are thrown to the side as he turns to look at Bell, "Now, you're not a politician, are you, troop?"

Bell snorts. Which is not advisable right now. She winces. "Frak, no." She and Gars are back in the sparring area, though they're not actively hitting each other at the moment. They look like they've just finished, though. Bell's nose is bleeding, so it's logical to surmise she was not the winner of that little spar. "That *was* kind of fun, though, wasn't it? Think we could do it again sometime? Next time I'll shut up and kick your ass!"

Snatch heads into the gym, hair drenched in sweat, face smeared with engine grime, looking more like she's just coming down off of a workout rather than just coming in for one. She drags her sweatshirt up overhead and wipes her face and hair on it, briefly, before slinging it over her shoulder. She's wearing a swimsuit underneath.

Gars quirks an eyebrow at Bell, and then chuckles and shakes his head. "Somehow I doubt it, marine" he says as he begins to unwrap the tape around his knuckles. "But if wish to sign up for another asswhoopin', who am I to argue against it? A marine willing to endure pain and bloodshed on off-duty hours… Cant be all bad… right, troop?" he says with a strange grin… maybe even a smile.

Bell tries not to beam at that. It's easy enough to avoid, what with tilting her head back to stem her bleeding. "Ooah!" she pipes. With feeling. She hears Snatch padding past but, with her head tilted up, she can't really look at her. So she just sort of bends her neck in that direction.

Eli comes in from Corridor 9D.
Eli has arrived.

[Intercom] This is the XO. Lieutenant Shem call 1302.

Snatch cants her head toward the bleeder, but keeps on her way, not standing around to gawk. She tucks her thumbs into the top of her sweatpants and hardly loses stride as she bends over and walks out of them, drawing them up behind her and heading along toward the pool.

Gars keeps unwraping the tape from his fists, standing by some benches over by the sparring area. He doesnt even look like he's broken a sweat by the look of things.

Eli enters the gym, head bowed and back in her sweats as she toys with her tags and then blinks as she stares. Looking between Gars and Bell and then back at Gars…and then back at Bell. She arches an eyebrow.

Snatch leaves for Pool [P].
Snatch has left.

Bell gets some water to swap her nose. The bleeding is pretty much stopped now. She tries to get it wiped before the blood crusts. But she seems in a merry mood. "Hey, Sheriff!" she chirps. Albeit more nasally than usual. "What was up in the brig? Anything XO-involved sounds pretty fierce."

Eli just places her hands on her hips and points to Bell. "Sickbay. Please. Get that seen to." She finally mutters.

"Alright, alright. Jeez, Sheriff. I got worse in cheerleading practice," Bell gripes. Slouching off toward Sickbay. She seems quite jaunty. Blood aside.
Gars returns to the gym after a quick visit to the 'John'. As he steps in to pick up his jacket, he spots the sergeant. "Still here, sergeant?" he says as he heads for the jacket found on the benches over by the sparring area.

Eli is seated on a bench, wrapping tape around around her hands and arching an eyebrow as she nods slowly. "Been waiting for you. Had to send the ever running bunny to the sick bay, just so she didn't drip everywhere."

Gars has his jacket halfway off the bench as he stops to listen to Eli. "Waiting for me, huh" he grins. He then looks over his shoulder at the exit, as if watching some invisible spectre of Bell. "Yeah… Hard to imagine that girl surviving basics, isn't it?"

Eli coughs and nods, getting to her feet and idly unzipping her jacket. "Yeah." Then she smirks. "Hey, lots of chicks like that end up being alot tougher and more capable then some of the more buzzed off grizzled sons of unfortunate women who can chew iron and pee battery acid or somethin'. Seriously."

Gars drops the jacket and picks up a roll of tape and starts wrapping his knuckles with it. Grinning, he eyes Eli as the sergeant unzips the uniform. "What ever you say, sergeant" he says, "Im sure it makes sense somewhere in the galaxy." As he keeps covering his fists in the tape, he asks "Gloves or knuckles?"

"Somewhere." Eli parrots as she pushes herself to her feet, idly cracking her neck and slipping out of her jacket, throwing it over a bench and thumbing the side of her nose and snorting. "Knuckles, unless you think that would be a lil' too rough…" She smirks.

Flexing his fingers, cracking knuckles, Gars steps into the ring, a wicked grin on his face as he studies his opponent. "My kind of game, sergeant. Personally, I think gloves are for pilots and brass." He starts to slowly circle Eli, rolling his shoulders as he does.

Eli makes her way over to the ring, bringing her own fists up some and shrugging some. "Last time I wore gloves, I got barfed on…" She shudders and just watches Gars like a hawk, squinting some.

"Fists only, sergeant?" Gars asks as he takes up a ready posture, one fist guarding his face, the other his torso, slightly hunched like a predator ready for action.

"Nah, I'm game for anything, Sarge, honest…only rule…nothing that would take somebody out of commission longer than a night, no broken bones…at least on purpose…" Eli murmurs softly, posture shifting to a more defensive one and an icy glint in those intense blue eyes of hers. There is only one thing she loves better than fighting…and that is Betty.

Gars chuckles and grins, a fire seems to ignite in his eyes. "You're on."

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Good <Roll2> Eli: Good
<Result> DRAW!

Gars, a wicked smile on his lips, circles Eli with easy steps, his guard ever in position, rolling his shoulders every now and then as he waits to see if there is a reaction. Or possibly, an opening or weakness to exploit.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Gars - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Eli: Superb <Roll2> Gars: Good
<Result> Eli WINS by 2.

Eli is counter-circling her opponent, expression less as she waits for an opening, jaw set as she just suddenly darts forward with a quick 1-2, jab and cross combo when she does see an opening, dancing back quickly enough and coughing softly.

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

Taking the punches, Gars goes on the counter-offensive instantly as Eli backs away landing a punch to her gut and a quick jab to the head, following up the attack in hopes of making use of his momentum… …

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

Eli is both a natural fighter /and/ a trained martial artist, but she's still toying with Gars here, grunting and her abs tightening under the contact from that punch and moving with the jab towards her head, using that counter-momentum to slam an uppercut into Gar's own abdomen, tit for tat apparently.

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Superb <Roll2> Eli: Superb
<Result> DRAW!

The hit to his abdomen has Gars backing off to regain his posture as he lost momentum and balance in his failed attack-run. Taking a couple of steps back, he regains his guard after rolling his shoulders. Sending a gob of spit to the floor, he starts circling Eli.

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

Eli is all about testing jabs and watching Gars like the hawk she is, studying him carefully, and even ignoring that…disgusting spitting thing, seriously. Ew. She just launches into another flurry of jabs, darting in as soon as a guard lowers just a tiny bit.

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

Eli's attacks are well aimed, but even so, they mostly hit Gars' block as he is pressed back. But in the fierce onslaught, Eli is taken off guard by a sudden counter-punch to the face; as if Gars had been waiting for the moment to strike.

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

The MaA's head snaps back before righting itself slowly, almost creepily so before Eli grits her teeth, she's in pretty close right now so she just slams a knee up into the man's mid-section. Eli was waiting for that opening.

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

The knee to the gut gets Gars stumbling, out of balance and slightly winded at that as air is pressed out of his lungs. Struggling to regain his guard and posture, he opens himself up for another onslaught by Eli.

Eli's knee connects and then when Gar gets to stumbling? She's quick to twist around to slam a fist into his side in another strike, just below the ribcage, to keep to her own word of not permanently damaging anybody.

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

Taking the hit to the side of his torso, Gars lets out a groan, and is quick to return the favor with a row of knuckles straight for Eli's kidneys; Gars growling through his teeth as he delivers the strike.

<Opposed Roll> Eli - Unarmed_Combat versus Gars - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Eli: Fair <Roll2> Gars: Fair
<Result> DRAW!

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

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

"Fra-" Eli feels those knuckles brushing over where her kidneys are and she just grits her teeth, damn being in close, so she slides in smoothly to slam an elbow into the man's sternum.

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Mediocre <Roll2> Eli: Good
<Result> Eli WINS by 2.

…then from there? Her knee bends ever so slightly and with practiced and professional ease she flips the man over her shoulder and onto his back. It seems like one fluid motion and she does it hella quickly.

Rolling over Eli's SHOULDER, Gars lands flat on his back on the ground with an audible bang. Taking a moment to let the initial pain fade, he finally rolls over on his one elbow, the free hand rubbing his back. "Well… Last time this happened, it was over a lollipop back in kindergarten" he says and clears his throat, launching the gob of spit and mucus on the floor a few feet infront of him.

Eli reaches down, thumbing the side of her nose again and probing her lip, checking for any bruises with her free hand as she offers to help the man up. "I got kicked out of kindergarten for similar reasons. And it was over blocks."

<Opposed Roll> Gars - Unarmed_Combat versus Eli - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Gars: Good <Roll2> Eli: Good
<Result> DRAW!

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

Gars gets on his knees and reaches out to grab Eli's hand. As she tugs him back on his feet, Gars uses the momentum to land a punch across her jaw. The pause create by the unexpected attack allows Gars to take a step back and try and gather some breath. "You got some fight in ya, I'll give ya that, sergeant. A real fight, that's for sure."

Eli's hand flies to her jaw as she just stares at Gars for a few moments. "What the /frak/ dude, seriously, what the frak?" She probes her jaw and narrows her eyes dangerously. Fight? Real fight? She takes a deep breath and then another.

Eying the sergeant for a brief second or two, Gars eventually splits his face with a grin. "Even if the battle is lost, you fire one last round at the enemy, just for good measure… Hoorah, sergeant."

"And when somebody offers you a frakkin' hand up, you don't clock them in the face." Eli offers under her breath, grumbling and taking a deep breath and hauls back like she's going to hit Gars but slowly lowers that fist. Taking another deep breath.

"Anger is our bread and butter, sergeant" Gars says, a crooked grin on his face. "Its what we marines are made of. Just one last punch to get even. No harm, no foul. No hard feelings, I hope… sergeant."

Eli just rolls her eyes, closing them for a moment and taking a deep breath. "If you want to work out with me. You can. Doesn't mean I like you anymore Sarge." She does swing at Gars, half-heartedly though as she makes her way out of the ring.

Gars chuckles, grin ever present, as he starts to unwrap the tape around the knuckles and heads on over to the bench with his jacket. "And it's corporal nowadays, sergeant" he then says. "Lost a chevron or two a couple of weeks back… remember?"

Eli just looks vaguely amused - or miffed, it is hard to tell as she's unwrapping her hands, idly scratching her chest and shrugging. "…yeah, Corporal. I forget sometimes. So much going on."

Snatch comes in from Pool.

While clearing his fists of the tape, Gars tosses a glance over at Eli as she does the same. "You really do know how to handle yourself, though, sergeant" he says and turns his attention back to his own hands. "Maybe not combat functional, but in the gym… It sure is impressive."

Eli hesitates for a moment before offering. "I can fight. In a gym, in the street, on the battlefield…" She trails off. "But for now, I'm here. Being the MaA. Last combat mission thing I went on…my bunk mate exploded. But I survived. Shot shit. Came back."

Gars nods as Eli speaks of her most recent combat experience, removing the last bits of tape from his hands. He tosses a casual look on over at Snatch as she moves through the gym and then turns to take aim at the closest trashcan where he tosses the bundles of tape. "Bunk mates… Old friends… People you hate, people you like… Civilians… Women… Children…" he sighs and looks on over at Eli, "They all get frakked in war. Someone ones said; Only in war does a man earn his right to live… Perhaps there's something to it. Who knows." And with that, he picks up his canteen and takes a mouthful of water and swallows it down.

Snatch emerges from the pool with fingers like prunes, hair wet and drippy, and content to be wrapped up in her off-duty sweatshirt, for now. Presumably she's wearing her bathing suit underneath. She proves the existance of said bathing suit when she comes to an exercise mat and decides it's time for a cartwheel. Pat-pat-pat-pat, hand-hand-foot-foot, a simple and almost matter-of-fact affair on her way across the mat. She rubs her left thigh but doesn't seem in too much discomfort.

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

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

Eli just shrugs again and sighs softly. "Yeah." She's very eloquent about things like that as she finds a towel to wipe her face off, opening her mouth to reply however…Snatch makes her entrance and then she's doing a cartwheel and Eli's mouth snaps back open as she stares for a few moments, gripping her towel tightly and then there is an audible rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiip as she ruins, yet another towel with her crazy-strong strength. Jaw setting. "…uh hunh."

After swallowing another mouthful of water, Gars eyes Eli with a quirked eyebrow. "You alright there, sergeant?" he asks, as he sees the towel take the brunt of some need for anger-management.

Snatch actually smiles a little as she turns her head to look at the mat she'd just cartwheeled across. "May-haps Doc war raht, af'er all," she chuckles to herself, then scoffs. "Uselessnesses!" she dismisses the whole idea, looking up at the loud sound of fabric tearing, her brows quirking together as she peers in that direction.

"I'll…be in my bunk." Eli finally just offers, balling up the parts of the towel, snatching up her jacket.

"Alright, sergeant" Gars says as he takes a seat on the bench next to him, reacting to a slight pain in his back. "Nice fighting with ya" he adds and hold up his canteen in a small toast.

Snatch hms, unsure of Eli's malfunction, but she figures she's spent enough time fussing about in here, more than likely. She raises a hand toward Gars and Eli in a simultaneous greeting and valediction, and she saunters along toward the hall, bare feet on carpet and then on deck.

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