PHD 236: Im Krater Bluhn Wieder Die Bäume
Im Krater Bluhn Wieder Die Baume
Summary: Hitting things might be the usual stress relief for some, but Eddie and Komnenos learn that sometimes a chat between like minds can do wonders as well.
Date: PHD236
Related Logs: Events of Hestia logs

The gym is sparsely populated at the moment, but then that could probably be said for most of the rest of the ship as well, given the ringer Kharon's been put through as of late. Komnenos is here, using his off shift hours to get in a little sparring practice — or is it venting — against one of the punching bags.

If it were possible to slam a hatch instead of just close it briskly, surely Eddie would. A dark cloud has been hanging over her head since the appearance of the Hestia, and even though Eddie'll admit this is the help they need, she's doing so begrudgingly. The gym is as much of a safe haven as anywhere, but at least if you throw something in here people are less apt to look at you weirdly. With shoulders bunched up around her ears, it sort of lends the pilot an artificial toughness that normally wouldn't be in her willowy frame. The bags are her destination as well, so when she draws up alongside Komnenos, he gets a grunt of greeting. Tape is pulled out of her gym bag before the vessel is tossed up against the bulkhead.

There's a series of dull thumps as Thorn's fists pummel the poor punching bag, and then he realizes he's not alone. Eddie's grunt of greeting is replied with one of his own, and he holds back for a moment to look at the young woman. No, he's no stranger to that expression. "I'd ask 'how's tricks' an' all, but the answer seems rather obvious." WHAM! Foot to the face… or it would have been if the bag was a person.

Eddie leans against the wall as she goes about taping her hands, watching Kom between revolutions. "I'd feel a whole lot better if I felt just /one/ thing was going my way. You know, it really is a burden to be this good looking and talented." She cracks a faint smirk that gets obliterated when she uses her teeth to tear the piece of tape off. "So. Marriage, huh?"

Thorn's attempts at kickboxing lack style or finesse, but the loud WHAP of his foot against the material seems to indicate he's at least doing something right. After a couple kicks, he goes back to fists. "This Hestia situation's got us all feeling… a little helpless, I think," he pants as he launches another fusillade of blows. There's another pause as he grabs a bottle of water from his bag on the floor, taking a long drink. "Yeah. Marraige. Who'd've thought, right?"

Eddie flexes her hands to make sure the tape is tight over her knuckles before pushing off her lean. "Hey, you're delusioned. Can't help that." Teasing Thorn is an excellent way to lighten her mood, but her dark eyes still seem stormy. "I'd say talk to the shrink to see if she can cure you of it, but relationships and 'connections' are supposed to be healthy or some shit." She leans against the bag he's currently abusing, putting her weight behind it to make his hits more effectual.

A thin, dry smile tugs at Thorn's lips. "My choices are marriage or talking t' the shrink? Frak, I am doomed." With Eddie there to steady the bag, the thing quits flopping around, making it easier for Thorn to hit it. That smile turns briefly into a twisted grimace as he lays it on, taped fists thudding into the bag. "I'll stick with tying th' knot, given th' choice… at least Case puts out." There's a short, breathless chuckle at that, as Thorn gets in one last kick before stopping. He grabs the water bottle, taking another swig.

Eddie ponders that for a moment, before saying. "I'm pretty sure the shrink does too, but I'm not going to ask Martin for clarification." When he stops for a drink, she straightens up, "Alright. My turn." Indicating he should hold the bag now while she works out her 'issues' on the dead weight. "You know the problem with all you frakkers getting into relationships and married? Severely cuts into my pool of frak material."

Thorn shakes his head, rolling his eyes with a throaty snicker as he and Eddie trade places around the bag. "Definitely not touching that one, Mooner," he says to the shrink comment. The water bottle is closed and tossed back with the rest of his stuff, and then Anton braces himself against the bag. Her latter bit gets a browraise. "Yeah, maybe, except the two of us never frakked and Case doesn't exactly strike me as your type. As far as I can tell, your frak pool is intact," he retorts dryly.

Eddie gives a little chuck of laughter. "Always a day late and a cubit short." Is all she offers before her fists ball up and she starts tapping the bag. Her jabs are light, at first, just following a rhythm of rightrightleft and repeating. Textbook. "Anyways. Congratulations, or whatever." She grunts between little smacks.

"Thanks. I think," Thorn replies, waggling his brows sardonically. Stiffening against the bag as he feels the first set of blows against it, he watches Eddie for a long moment as she starts her routine. "So what's really eating you, then?" His own expression is a mask as his blue-gray eyes sweep over hers. He hasn't forgotten those storm clouds on her brow. "I know you didn't come here t' talk about my bleedin' marriage."

Caught like a deer in the headlights, Eddie's movements still and she just looks at Thorn for a long moment. The muscle in her jaw flexes as she grits her teeth, and to break the tension she goes back to smacking the bag. Her chin tucks low into her shoulder, and her blows come a little harder and a little more crisp. "The Hestia. The bloody frakkin' Hestia. I don't want to transfer." She admits, but because she's doing it nonchalantly, it doesn't count, right?

Komnenos blinks as the force of Eddie's blows suddenly increases, forcing him to take a step back to keep his balance. He squares his shoulders, pushing back in order to keep the bag stationary. He looks at Eddie with a nod; unlike some others might, Thorn doesn't launch into one of those 'orders are orders' or 'for the good of the service' monologues. Instead, his only immediate response is a simple "Why not?"

Eddie's sneers, her anger directed at the conversation and the bag rather then at Komnenos himself. Eddie might not have a lot of weight, but she certainly puts all of it behind the next blow that has bones rattling in her fist. She steps back from the bag, shaking her hand and cussing. "My father was stationed on the Hussy." Is said between gritted teeth as she tries to work through the pain.

Thorn purses his lips at the answer. It wasn't quite what he expected, but it's informative nonetheless. "Ah," is all he can manage for a moment. He tilts his head to one side as he releases the bag. "Two of you had… issues, I take it?" It's a loaded question, but somehow Thorn manages to ask it in a perfectly bland tone. "He's not there now, though, is he?"

Eddie stops dancing around at least, but she's still shaking out her one arm. As the sting still hasn't faded, she doesn't return immediately to the bag, though it looks like she'd be apt to murder something convenient right now. "He retired about six years ago." The other answer to the other question is pretty evident, so she doesn't bother acknowledging it. "I was on the Hestia once. As a little girl." She grips her right hand in her left, then bends over thrusting both between her knees. "Frak."

Well, no shit they had issues, Lieutenant Obvious. No specifics are forthcoming, but then again, Thorn didn't really expect any. He continues to watch the younger woman with a bland expression, though he's clearly not unsympathetic. "Got no frakkin' clue what I'm supposed t' say, really," Thorn says with a shrug. "Personally? I don't much want t' go either." He shakes his head resignedly. "Doesn't exactly reek of friendly territory, not yet." Arms fold across his chest as he takes a step around the bag. "But when y' get right down to it, what choice do we have, really?" A finger jabs towards the ceiling, which like most of the rest of the ship has seen better days. "Frak orders, frak th' needs of th' service. This ship is dying. Word is she won't survive another engagement. This leaves me with what? I either stay on a ship that's likely t' crack like an eggshell if a Basestar looks at her funny, or a battlestar where I'm going t' have t' look over my shoulder twice as much as I already do." Thorn sighs, then looks back into Eddie's eyes. "You want t' tell me I don't get it, you'd probably be right. But I don't intend t' die on this barge, either. Even if it means a change of address."

Eddie gives a long exhale through pursed lips, blowing away the last of the pain in her fingers. She straightens, curling the abused digits. "I know. Gods damn it, I know." She makes a wipe at her face with her forearm, dragging it across her brow. "But of all the bloody Battlestars…" It had to be the Hestia. "The shuffle's going to be hard on all of us, isn't it? Wing teams are going to be scrambled, you're going to lose your normal front seater. The Blacks won't be in the same squadron anymore, nor likely anyone that's obviously coupled up. And I'll have to break in a new CAG."

"Frak, I haven't had a regular front seater since Ivory went off the line. Besides… all I know, I could end up being my own front seater," Thorn replies with a roll of the eyes. "Not likely… I'm better in th' back, and Marek will tell them that, but who knows what th' frak they'll do with th' reorganization. Maybe they're short on Raptor pilots… either way, I'm sure their CAG would love t' get her hands on me. Two-way Raptor crew aren't exactly a cubit a dozen." There's another eyeroll. "You're not wrong. The situation, it's shite. Frak, I finally have Marek mostly figured out and now I'll have t' learn a new CAG's bullshit." He smiles at Eddie, though it's a mirthless expression. "Like I said, though, it beats suckin' vacuum."

Eddie matches Thorn's smile tit for tat. "I don't know about that, Anton. I was supposed to live and die a Vigilante." She says, in all seriousness. Rolling her shoulders backwards to release some of the tension in her muscles, she then steps forward to take a few more swings at the bag. "I heard you were double dipping. Damn brainiacs just aren't satisfied specializing in one thing. Makes the rest of us look bad." Now to /that/, she does seem to be genuinely amused about.

Thorn utters a short, caustic laugh. "If I'm making you lot look bad, then I must not be doing a good job at it. You were th' one walking the promotion line last time, not me, remember?" If Thorn's still sour about being passed over, he usually does a pretty good job at hiding it. This time, though, the veneer slips a bit as a little extra rancor seeps into his voice. "Truth be told, even if I do pass my quals, it'll be a bit of work before I'm even close t' being a decent pilot." As Eddie steps forward, so does he, planting his hands against the opposite side of the bag to steady it for the woman. "As for th' former…" Thorn shrugs again. "I was a Wild Card before I was a Ghostrider. The people I serve with matter more than what we call ourselves, I think."

"This was my first post after flight school and OTS. Supposed to be a nice out of the way place to stick a disobedient pain in the ass daughter. I guess, in a way, that's one thing I can thank my pops for. If I were stationed anywhere else, I might be dust right now. Scary to think that part of the fate of humanity rests in my hands, 'eh?" Eddie starts tapping the bag again, favoring her left hand now instead of her right. "People like you and me don't get promoted, Thorn. I'm still positive the CAG was freebasing Chamalla on that one. Did you get into a scrap right before that?"

"Yeah, it's a motley bunch," Thorn agrees with a smirk. "You, me, th' rest… not exactly what a casting department would think up for th' next save-th'-frakkin'-world thriller on Caprica, that." His brow furrows slightly at the mention of Kai. "Yeah. Remember? That was right after Martin sucker punched me in the game room for 'stealing' Samantha. Marek told me afterwards he couldn't promote a man who gets into fights over women." He rolls his eyes, this time with extra sarcasm. "Right. Do really I look like the type who brawls over a piece of tail? Come on." There's a rueful snort. "Frak, maybe you're right. I've been toeing th' line lately, but who knows what good that'll do."

Eddie steps back to drag a hand through her hair, still at an awkward length where it gets in her face and her eyes too often. There's a bit of sweat on her brow from the workout, and it helps to slick back the locks. "Wasn't long ago Samantha popped me for much the same thing. Guess she won't be getting new pins anytime soon either." She grins lopsidedly. "See, you two really are the perfect pair."

The 'perfect pair' bit draws a restrained but no less sincere grin from the tall ECO. "What can I say, I got lucky. Our kids will probably annoy the hells out of people, though." It's said as though he almost actually looks forward to it. "I don't know. On one hand, it's not that important… chances are I won't live long enough t' enjoy a promotion anyway. But I remember Leda bitching once upon a time about being the 'oldest jig in the fleet', or some shit." He hesitates just a bit. "Frak if I want t' be that guy, either."

The grin stays on her features, probably the longest it's been there in a while. "Look at it this way. You could always get demoted." Which when it comes to Eddie, and Kom if they truly are kindred spirits, isn't too far fetched an idea. "I think I just found my new hobby." Mooner starts peeling the tape of her hands, apparently done for the time being. "Thanks, mate. This has been…good."

Thorn shudders. "I've heard 'Ensign Komnenos' one too bloody many times in this life already, thank you." As Eddie announces her intention to be done, it looks like Komnenos has had enough as well. A towel is grabbed from his bag, and he quickly runs it over his sweat-streaked hair; when he's done, his hair is dry, if looking like he'd just gotten out of bed. Then, off comes the tape. "Any time, Mooner, you know that." There's a small smile as he replaces his smelly, sweaty T-shirt with a fresh one from the bag. "Us misfits watch out for each other." A wink, then he's jamming all his random crap back into his gym bag as he prepares to leave.

Eddie's eyes flick down Komnenos as he does a quick change, not above getting a cheap free thrill out of the deal. Her own hygeine will wait until she's back at berthings, it seems, as she's just grabbing up her gear. "I think we're getting too soft to be considered misfits. I'm going to have to change that." She muses. And with a wink, Eddie's off for the showers.

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