Wait.. what?!
Wait… what?!
Summary: Eli and Fots hit the weights. Jocasta arrives. Hilarity ensues.
Date: 27 ACH
Related Logs: None.

Gymnasium Genesis - Deck 9
27 ACH 6735 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: Eli Fotilas Wireless 442

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

This is Eli's sanctuary. Cue the holy music and the different lighting and all the ahhhhhAHHHHHHHahhhhhAHHHHHHH! Maybe some sparkles in there too. Basically it is Eli's temple, and she/he's currently in sweats as she's slipping weights onto a barbell, gritting her teeth and for the most part being left alone. She has a towel draped near by as she mutters under her breath.

And just in time to interrupt everyone's good time.. its Fots. He's in his off-duty duds and looks pretty damned tired. He stops just inside the doorway and looks around as deciding on what he might use to try and break himself today. He may not come around often, but he's looking at some of the weights with a schooled eye.

Eli looks up when other people seem to be caught up on seeing who is entering and she straightens up a bit, lifting a head before moving to the other side of the barbell to add some more weight as she clears her throat some.

Fotilas tries not to look at anyone in particular. It interrupts people when they think they're being watched by the Executive Assho- Officer. But Eli's cleared throat gets a glance. He nods to her as he passes by. "Browne. How are things?"

Eli chuckles softly. "Just fine sir." A pause. "Do you want me to spot you?" She points to the weight bench. This is her /trying/ to act some what social as she idly scratches her head. "I mean, are you okay sir?"

The man stops and looks to the amount of weight on the bar and he shrugs. "Sure, if you don't mind. I don't want to interrupt your workout." Not the same demanding, loud voice of the on-duty XO. He actually looks like he might smile rather than scowl. "Just overworked and underpaid, like everyone else on board. How about yourself?" He reaches for a 25lbs freeweight with both hands and begins warming up and stretches with it.

Eli looks at the freeweight before looking back to her own barbell. There is about 150 on it right now and she hmms softly. "Go ahead, honestly. I don't mind." Her jaw sets as she folds her arms over her bound chest. "I'm…okay, sir."

Fotilas lets his brow rise. "Something on your mind?" He tucks the weight behind his back and stretches there. "Its not like I'm on duty so feel free to let me have it." He swings the weight to his other hand, not seeming to have much trouble.

Eli blinks. "On my mind…no." She rests a hand on the barbell, clearing her throat again. "How are you holding up sir?" This is Eli being social. "We found stuff on a planet the other day, there was a very large rat thing."

And then.. duhn dunn DUHN.. it happens. Fotilas smiles! And it actually looks a bit natural. That alone, possibly unnerving. That there may in fact be two Fots - on and off-duty. "Holding up alright. Had a lot of late nights with some of the operational planning sessions. Coffee is losing its effect." His smile turns a touch sly. "Hard about the rat. Can't blame you. I think Rhea wants me to give the shootist a medal for it. Whaddya think?" The weight is held in front of him and he turns at the waist.

"When…I'm having a hard time staying up, I just do some push-ups or something. Or…talk to Betty." Eli coughs and straddles the weightbench, eyeing Fotilas warily cuz…that smile. Wow. Is it attractive? Nooo silly. Boys have cooties! So it is disturbing. Maybe. Then she scratches her chest and shrugs helplessly. "I felt kinda bad for it, sir. It wasn't doing anything that I know of. It was a frakkin' good shot but just…didn't know why it had to get blasted. Little critter was just…moseying along. With some bigass teeth. And it was green." Eli grimaces.

Or talk to Betty. Fotilas does his best to assume she's referring to an actual, vocal conversation. Everyone knows what she calls the nightstick. "Yeah. I used to do a lot of push-ups to stay awake. Or I'd do laps. The problem is now, I don't have time. And its tough to do laps around that damned plot table. Makes ya dizzy." Fotilas turns and sets the weight down on the rack as Eli straddles the bench. He moves behind it to spot. "Damn if that ain't just mean. The AAR made it sound like the thing was about to attack. What's the point in shooting wildlife if you aren't going to eat it or it isn't attacking?" Especially eat it. That Eel stew? It reminds him of the stench of his grandfather's feet.

Eli lays back, reaching up to grip the bar, hands sliding to the appropriate distance between them as she grits her teeth and inhales…then exhales deeply. "I know right? We could've trained 'em, or let it go about its way or…find out uh, if eating it might've been a good thing. It was kinda err…cute though sir." She grunts and does her first benchpress.

Fotilas lets his hands move out just a bit but he doesn't insult her with reaching out with her first press. "That'd be funny. The ship's mascot is a meter-long green rodent with razor-sharp teeth. Lords.. sounds like some of the women I met in the backwoods of Tauron." He even chuckles! Balls! Its a light sort of sound, full of life - though tired. "I also heard it stinks like Hades down there. Something you get used to or..?"

It isn't quite a growl, but Eli just pumps iron with another grunt, not locking her elbows and treating the damn barbell like it is a baton or something. She exhales shakily and replies. "I had a girlfriend kinda looked like that. But she had this whole punk thing going on… and needed to get her teeth fixed." Then she takes another deep breath. "It stinks and no. You don't get used to it, you either adapt or have a new appreciation for body odor."

"Yikes. You dated someone like that? Lords, Browne. You've got more guts than I figured. Never could do the 'punk' thing." Fotilas watches as she goes about playing with the barbell. Teasing it. Making it think that it actually weighs more than a Q-Tip. Poor thing. Silently, though, Fotilas is a little frightened. People shouldn't be able to do that with 150 pounds.

Eli's hands slip as she grunts out. "Sir." - Flashbacks to dating that girl, not the best thing to remember as her eyes narrow some. "To be honest she scared me into a date, totally wild though."

Fotilas slides his hands out, ready to catch the bar if it drops. "Geez, Browne. I didn't think anyone could scare you into anything except anger." There's that smile again, tinged with some admiration. Maybe a light smattering of respect there, too. "What'd she do? Put a gun to your head?"

Eli does manage another press, starting to sweat now though, cheeks puffing out as she works that bar! It is like working a pole…just without the heels or gyrating and she swallows. "…heh, thank you sir. I will admit it is hard." Then she exhales shakily once more. "What did she…she showed me her piercings. So it was a mixture of horror and fascination that clouded my judgment."

"Yeah, no kidding. Until two minutes ago I figured you were unphasable." Fotilas' smile grows, hand moving back away from the bar. "Piercings? Damn. Horrified and fascinated, huh? You've got a lot of guts. Needles freak me the hell out. I think I'd rather contemplate eating my own hand than getting a bunch of piercings." Obviously a dead-match to Manny.

Eli pumps out another press and swallows. "I am unphasable unless you have a piercing in your-" She cuts herself out. "I don't have any piercings. I already have to worry about getting shot. I did however, get stabbed a few times growing up sir." There is a pause. "Sir, did you want me to spot you?" She exhales hard.

Piercings in the..Fots isn't a very 'travelled' guy so things like that, a bit befuddling. "Yeah, I don't have any for similar reasons as well, in addition to my non-fandom of needles. In combat, piercings get caught in shit. But stabbed? Geez Browne, you don't screw around. What'd you do?" Kill them? Rip them apart? Bury them in a field on Aerelon? "Yeah if you want to spot, that's fine."

Eli closes her eyes and works on moving her arms back to try to put it back in the little post thingies that hold the barbell. "…if you get your dingdong caught on something in combat…you really shouldn't be taking a piss…then and there." A pause. "Sir. I mean. Not that you couldn't have…if you wanted, sir. I'm sure if you whipped it out in the middle of a fight and if you happened to have a piercing and it got caught in a bush and…" She just trails off before coughing, waiting for Fots to help her and make sure the barbell is situated. "The first time? I grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into the toychest until the teacher pulled me off." She's honest if nothing else! "I was 4. Second time though…err. I should probably stop here." She's working on sitting up now.

If Fots had been on duty, likely he'd be raving mad about Eli going off like that. But being that he's out of uniform? He stares at her until she trails off. Just when he looks like he might explode, it becomes apparent he was trying to stifle a laugh. He shakes his head, securing the barbell into the divots. "Shit, Browne. I have problems thinking about putting a hole in my ear. What the hell makes ya think I'd want to put another one in my dick?" Such a crass man when he's off duty. But he's still laughing. "Godsdamned. Getting something like that caught during a combat-piss? Hellnothankyou." Yep, all one word. But his brow rises at the mention of the toychest stomping. "Wow, Browne. I always figured you for the cute kid who played nice until one day you discovered that hitting people was more fun than watching them make faces."

Eli scoots forward on the bench, rising gracefully before moving to retrieve her towel, wiping off her face and looking more than relieved that Fots is /laughing/ and not yelling at her for talking about…piercings. She just coughs and thumbs the side of her nose, wiping off the bench and walking around to take Fots place as she nods towards the bench. "…I'm glad we agree about how much of a bad idea that would be, sir." Then she just blinks slowly and offers with a straight face. "I was the cute little boy always getting into fights and getting grounded. Before the '…oh? That was little Eliza Browne, oh my's would start." She smirks and shrugs. "Your turn, sir."

"Hades, Browne, I not only agree.. I whole-heartedly endorse not doing it. Damn. All the times I had to roll around in some shithole firefight to take a leak?" The man shakes his head. Obviously he's not just some Navy Jerk. Unless he's full of it. The man moves around the bench to take a seat on it. He takes a long breath and slides his hands onto the barbell. "You? Fight? Never. I refuse to believe it." He chuckles and tenses his body before the first push. "Yeah well, not everyone grows up to be what they wanted to be." Ain't that the truth. He heaves and lifts the bar straight up.

Eli adjusts her stance, draping her towel around her neck as she prepares to spot as is necessary. She's at a weight bench, spotting Fotilas who is… preparing to press a barbell that has about 150 on it right now. "It is best to just…hold it. Yes sir." Then she just chuckles at the mention of fighting, coughing again as her eyebrows raise some, her expression growing a bit stony at the mention of growing up to be who you want to be. But maybe Fotilas can't see that.

The barbell lifts straight up. Its obvious from the start that he won't be going as many rounds as she did. "Lords, Browne," he groans. "No wonder you're so damned good at your job." He takes his time going down and coming back up. "Lifting this all day?" The bar steadies out over his chest. "What made you want to join the Marines? Chance to beat-up assholes when it counts?" Yes, the XO is being vulgar. No, he is not in uniform.

"Not all day. Just… in my spare time sir." Eli deadpans before concentrating more intently…and warily on that bar. Making sure it doesn't fall and squish the XO. She squints though at the question. "Partially sir. More so that every male in my family has been in the marines. My father, my grandfather, my uncles, my great grandfather, all the way back to how much they tell people, they have served in the armed forces as members of the Marine Corps."

"So what is that? Like five minutes a day, Browne?" he jokes. He knows she's gotta be busy as hell. The man laughs a little and it disrupts the downward motion of the barbell. It stalls just above his chest and he groans. After a moment, he forces it back up. "Frak. Okay, I have no business trying to keep up with you." He racks it into the divots and sits up. "Lets pull off thirty." He stands and moves to the side. "Whole family, though? Helluva legacy. Enlisted when I was 20. First one out of my family line. …Forgetting everything else as much as possible, Browne.. You like where your career is going? Pleased with the MP's?"

One of the few flyers who didn't manage to make it onto the Leonis mission — hey, someone's gotta stay behind for the CAP, right? — waltzes in to the gym just in time to catch sight of the XO apparently trying to commit suicide by suffocating beneath the weight of a barbell. Plus for creativity, minus for execution. Sure, there's a Marine hanging about nearby as a possible spotter but there seems to be a profound absence of anyone readily available to point and laugh. Allow Jocasta to stand in. Just kidding. If Fotilas is floundering, the Navy officer at least has heart enough to lend a hand to help him out from under the load. If not, insert a slightly inappropriate chuckle here while she peels out of her sweat jacket in preparation to throw a few punches at a bag that sorely has it coming.

Eli reaches out to also grab the bar and help ease it back to the divots, grimacing. "I'm sorry sir. I should've…thought about that first." She wrinkles her nose, waiting until Fotilas is back on his feet before pulling off weights. "Uh…18 here sir. But yeah. Legacy thing…" She trails off as she moves to the other side and pulls of another weight. "Like where my career is going?" She seems surprised by the question, distracted momentarily as Jocasta enters before quickly looking back to the XO. "I guess so, sir. I didn't expect the MaA thing to happen."

Fotilas looks up to Jocasta as she enters, nodding. "Ensign Maru." Shockingly (or maybe not), he remembers her. Though exactly why isn't obvious. And to see the man at work, its probably not because he's 'hottie hunting.' But there is another admirable touch to his inflection with just that word. His eyes then turn back to Eli. "No sweat, Browne. I saw it, thought about it, decided it would be comedy for you while I flailed about like that." He's still smiling. Jesus, he must be on crack or something. "Well where would you like to see it going? Interest in officership one day? Prefer to stay enlisted?" He hefts a weight off. "By the way, both the Commander and I appreciate what you have done with the billet. You do the Corps proud."

Summarily spotted, Jocasta acknowledges Fotilas with a respectful, "Sir." before giving Eli the once-over while she tapes up her hands. Those exposed arms are telling the tattooed tale of someone who seems to be wearing the wrong uniform, as even from a distance it's apparent she's sporting the seal of another Marine outfit that typically calls the Scorpion Shipyards home.

Eli nods slowly and points back to the bench after setting the last weight down. The smiling does keep making her eye the XO warily though. She just blinks. "I'm laughing on the inside, sir." Then she scratches her head. "Where would I… well yes. Working one's way up in ranks, be it to the rank of an officer to just up the enlisted ladder, sir…while it isn't a priority, it just shows you're uh, doing your job? Anyhow, right now I'm just trying to make sure the people on all the ships are staying safe." Then she lowers her eyes, making her way back behind the weight bench and coughing. "Thank you sir." Another glance over to Jocasta she looks back to the XO.

"Maru. I didn't get a chance to tell you in person, but you did some fine work during the Tauron Complex operation. I heard it got bad in the Raptor but you kept it together. The Marines spoke highly of it." Fotilas settles back onto the bench and lays down. "Heh, Lords Browne. I come in here to relax, not be concerned about whether someone finds my jokes funny." He smirks up to her past the bar. He reaches up to brace against it as she speaks, the XO nodding at the end. "No complaints, Sarge. But its nice to have goals. I was just curious what you wanted out of the Corps. Or more accurately considering your performance.. what the Corps or Navy might be able to do for you." Sure it sounds like a bad recruiting line, but he's not some dork in an office. He's a serving line Colonel.

Well, that's… certainly unexpected. One of Jocasta's eyebrows bobs upwards as if, for a moment, she thought he might have mistaken her for someone else. He hasn't, though, and so she's obliged to reply with a, "Thank you, sir. Just doing my job." And, hey, you know, that's the truth. With her knuckles adequately bound and her biceps appropriately bared, she makes good on the eagle-eyed threat that was initially slung over to the punching bag upon her arrival and initiates pugilistic protocol, complete with compelling and slightly suggestive grunting. Oh yeah. This poor piece of pleather is in for a serious pounding.

"My goals are to serve the colonial military to the best of my ability sir." Eli's stance shifts to appropriate spot the XO as she concentrates. "For as long as the gods bless with me the breath to do so." The sound of the bag being worked makes her tense some but she's just spotting now.

Fots lifts the bar, holding it for a moment. It goes down easily after that and comes back up with a controlled breath. This is much more the flavor of the 'Old Man XO' at 34-year. "No shit Maru, that kind of praise doesn't come lightly. I'm not gonna lay here and blow sunshine up your ass, but its true." He readjusts his grip before lowering the bar once more. "Everyone has that line memorized, Browne. Be honest. What do you want to do? Tell me you want my job, if that's what you want. I won't cry. Swear." He manages another smile.

So, okay, maybe she wasn't a prize fighter in a previous life — but, at least Jo's hitting the bag and not some poor idiot who just so happens to be making his way over to the running machines or something… and that counts for something, right? Right. Besides, someone's trying to hold a conversation with her and that counts for distraction. She emits a half-hearted chuckle in response to the man's prodding and finally concedes, "You wanna talk about laying and blowing and my ass, then I'm pretty sure there's not going to be any sunshine involved, sir." Nice. She probably used to kiss her mouth with that mouth.

Eli is respectfully quiet as the pilots talk though, just watching that barbell, relieved that the 'old man' doesn't hurt himself with it as she just shakes her head slooooowly. "Honestly? I want to recruit more MPs, polish up the newer privates, get the security on every ship so ship shape and polished that all my superiors and those who are directly involved in the current war don't have to worry about such things. But I work in a system of checks and balances and sometimes the checks take a bit longer than the balances and things get thrown out of whack." A pause. "Sir." Another pause. "So I don't know how to answer that question, I joined up to make my father proud. I never thought past that, besides 'damn, I need smoother access to resources' after I got put in a position I never dreamed I'd be in." She takes a deep breath. "Good form sir." Another glance to Jocasta. "…you too." A pause. "Sir."

Fots can't help laughing pretty hard at Jocasta's comments. The weights can be heard clanking together at the ends. "I suppose this is where I should get angry and bluster about fraternization, right?" The weights go down once more and he holds it there for a short count before going back up. "More MP's, polish your crews. Sounds like the makings of a fine plan, Browne. Ever thought about putting it down on paper and submitting requests and plans?" Once more, her readjusts his grip. "You've earned some good credit with Command. Save it or spend it, its up to you."

Jocasta pauses in her not-so-merciless beating of the athletic equipment in order to lay a hand upon the bag to stop it from swinging while cocking a look over to Fotilas that now comes complete with both eyebrows on the rise. "Unless I missed the part where we actually frak— er, fraternized, sir, I think you're in the clear." She then resumes her grunting pummel-sport at a similar pace to the one she was keeping before, however, the conversation doesn't appear to be over yet. She applies a liberal smirk and notes with no shortage of grunting, "…doesn't say much for your performance if I did, though." And that's about as close to serious on the subject as she's willing to get. Which is to say… not very. She tosses a look over to Eli as if for confirmation or agreement in that 'amirite?' sort of way.

Well. This could be a bit awkward… Jocasta's look really just makes Eli twitch uncertainly before looking between Fots and Jo and then back again. But before all that she replies to the XO. "I'm not that good with paper things sir, but I am learning so I can spend it in ways that benefit all to the best of my ability." She assures before just replying to that look, with a quirk of an eyebrow. Yep. Maybe.

Fotilas takes another breath, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. Frakernization, by definition, really requires some sort of 'frak' if I'm not mistaken." He lets out a breath before taking another in and lowering the bar. "If one party isn't aware it happened due to negligence on the part of the other?" Another exhale as he pushes up. "Really thats just an epic failure." His arms twitch as he holds the bar, eyes turning up to look at Eli. "Well Browne, come by my quarters then or I can stop by the Marine offices. No rank. We'll just see what you want to do. Sound like a deal?"

Wait, wait — Jocasta tackles the bag again, only this time it's because she's suddenly erupted into a cacophony of sputtering laughter. Fotilas is either possessed of a seriously underestimated sense of comedic timing… or a seriously poor concept of how holding two conversations at once comes off poorly without a proper segue in between. Poor Jammer. She can barely breathe. Poor Eli.

"Or… had too much to drink. Sir." Eli offers before, reaching forward to help ease the bar back if Fots needs it, eyebrow quirking at the offer as she stares down at him for a very very long time. "Of course… sir." Another pause. "It sounds like a deal." Another pause. Oh look, a shiny bar. Hm. Then it comes. "Wait, WHAT sir?!"

And indeed the bar goes back, Fots' losing his own compsure as he realizes what he said. Jocasta's hyperventaliating. Eli's confused. Fots should probably apologize. "Dammit, Maru," he sputters as the bar clanks back into the divots. He sits up, shoulders shaking with his hearty laugh. Though deep, his voice doesn't carry. The XO swings his legs around to the side and looks at Eli. "Relax, Browne," he says, finally letting his laughing fade. "I wasn't propositioning you. I was inferring to a discussion about planning /military police operations/.." The last part has particular influence placed on it as the man slowly turns to peer at Jocasta, the humor still in his voice. Yes, Fotilas is in fact human.

Meanwhile, there's Jocasta, slightly out of focus just over Fotilas' shoulder attempting to assist Eli's understanding via translation of the conversation into completely inappropriate sign language and — oh hi! The moment the XO's gaze heads back her way, she attempts to play off her lewd gestures as a completely casual inspection of the tape on her knuckles. Nothing's peeling off just yet, right? Good. And, uh, you know, she's a little bit tired so she just happened to be yawning at the same time… and maybe she's a little bit near-sighted, so that's way her hand was so close to her open mouth and — oh, frak it. Jo tosses out a wink. Who she's sending it to is up for controversy — fight it out amongst yourselves, kids.

Eli looks oh so relieved, which means she's completely expressionless. Like normal! She stares at Fots before nodding slowly. "Then, of course sir. I look forward to such a…" And there Jocasta goes with her sign language and Eli hasn't had a girlfriend in like…years. Well not publicly anyhow and she grips her towel draped around her neck between two hands and pulls. Then it rips…in half. Before she opens and closes her mouth. "…Excuse…me uh. Sirs." A long pause. "I'll be in my bunk." She turns on her heel and beats a hasty retreat. She had uh. Reports to do. Clutching a piece of towel in each hand.

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