AWD #249: Smack Talk in the Mess
Smack Talk in the Mess
Summary: Phin may be out of sickbay, but now he has to put up with banter between navy and marine enlisteds.
Date: 12/Sep/2013
Related Logs: References to Think Outside the Bag
Phin Toby Lleufer 
Mess Hall - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The Crew Mess on the Orion is one of the larger rooms meant for occupation. The room is far longer than it is wide with the classic stainless steel tables that can be seen anywhere else on the ship, standard to all navy ships. Most of the chairs match, their padding on the seats worn down after several years. Towards the rear of the room is the food prep area and serving lines. During the time in between meals the Mess will serve midrats, or 'mid-shift rations', such as sandwiches and drinks. Coffee pots are left to run at all hours to keep people going as needed.

It's mid-shift, so the mess is lightly populated. As light as it ever gets, at least. It's at this time that Phin chooses to wander in. He doesn't have much of a line to contend with, so he gets himself a sandwich and water and picks out a spot for himself at the corner of an empty table. He's moving rather slower than usual, and still a bit pale, though the only evidence of his recent adventures with explosions is the bandage on his right forearm. Even that's mostly obscured by the sleeve of his sweats.

Toby is on one of those odd shifts today it would seem, for right now he's off duty and at leasure. Freshly showered and clean having just been working out, he grabs a couple of sandwiches and a snackbar before adding a large mug of coffee and looking for somewhere to sit. Spotting Phin he heads in that direction, offering a nodded greeting and a mcok surprised sounding, "it lives!" Then in a tone more conducive to general conversation he asks, "you saving those seats for anyone?"

A certain Marine MP has gotten off shift. Lleufer's gone by the Marine berthings to ditch his MP things and his over shirt so that he arrives in his off duty clothes. With his arms bared, the scarring from the direwolf attacked the mangled his lower left arm is quite visible. Above that his left bicep has a more recent bright pink bullet wound healed over where a rifle round ripped clean through his arm. Burned patches of skin and schrapnal cuts on his face have now healed leaving him otherwise looking fit for duty. Sergeant Ynyr gets himself a tray loaded up with food and then goes to seek somewhere to take a seat.

Phin looks from what had been a pretty intense examination of his sandwich at the 'It lives!' He pastes a slight smile on his face that he seems to hope looks amused, shaking his head. "Nope. You can take one if you want, Crewman. If you don't think the company of a Viper jock would be too repellent to handle." The crowd in the mess is sparse enough that he notices Lleufer's entrance, and offers him a polite nod as the Marine passes.

Phin obviously looks amused enough to pass muster with Toby as the knuckledragger jsets his tray down and drops into a seat. Following Phin's nod he spots Lleufer and offers a short nod as well before turning back to the pilot. "It's a touch call I must admit," he states with a shrug, "but it's been a while since you brought one of our birds back in pieces so I think it's alright for now."

This time of the evening there's a lot of people filing through the mess. The Marine takes a seat with Phin and Toby without asking, but at least he knows them both, if not well. "Hope you don't mind if I join you two. Not a lot of spaces available at the moment." Lleufer looks over Phin, "You look a hell of a lot better, Lieutenant."

"I guess those Predators were technically property of the Caprican resistance," Phin says wry. "And yeah. Tell me about it. I live with the guys." It's a joke, mostly. He picks at his sandwich. Without a ton of appetite, but it's eaten in bits. To Lleufer he says, "Thanks. Got out of Sickbay the other day. They said it'd be OK to recoup in my own bunk. Still got a week or two of light duty left, but beats staring at the med ward walls."

"Rather you than me," Toby offers to Phin, given that if he and Luc were in close proximity for any amount of time like that then there'd likely be bloodshed. Starting to wolf down his first sandwich, cheese by the look of it, he carries on, "if you're on light you should head down the fitness centre three days from now." Jerking a thumb towards Lleufer he explians, "Sergeant here reckons he's got what it takes to put me on my arse so we're going to test that theory."

"Yeah it does." Lleu agrees with Phin. The Marine's tray is full of food. Sliced red meat in some kind of gravey, pile of cooked carrots or simular tubers, mixed fruit in a bowel, hunk of bread, and cheesy pasta with herbs. Man has an appetite which he begins to apply to his meal. Knife and fork are put to good use, his manners decent. Said Sergeant waits until his mouth is clear to take a drink and grin briefly at Toby, "Crewman's right. Don't know if I can lay him out on his arse, or him me, but I figure pairing up with a new sparring partner is a hell of a lot better than going at the heavy bag day in and day out."

"Wouldn't mind seeing that fight," Phin says, downing some water after eating a little more of his sandwich. "I've never been that much of a boxer. Spent too much time figuring out how to duck getting hit. But it's good hand-to-hand practice."

Toby is rapidly demolishing his sanwich, and there's only a small amount left as he takes a swig of his coffee. "It'll be afternoon sometime, once we're both off shift," he states with a glance to Lleufer to confirm the marine's shift pattern. "Plan is fists, and first to unconciousness or submission, but that might change since he went and got himself shot in the arm." Turning to Lleufer he offers a faintly amused smile, "wouldn't want to make it too easy on myself if he ain't up for it after all." Whats that? Smack talk? Oh yeah.

"Arm's coming along. I'm not much of a boxer. Used to using a lot more than only my hands, as I already mentioned. Don't care to limit myself so much." Ynyr eyes Toby, "Might be we'll let you use your fists only if that's what you prefer, and I'll do my thing my way. Unless you are afraid that's an unfair advantage over you, Crewman?" There's a touch of a friendly smirk, shoveling it right back in good humor.

Phin chuckles some at the smacky banter between the Marine and deckie, but seems content to listen to the conversation rather than participate much. More sandwich is eaten. Still without any particularly wolfish enthusiasm.

Toby shakes his head in an amused fashion as he finishes his first sandwich. "As I said previously, it's tradition, but we'll see if you're up for it or not." Another swig of coffee and then he's onto the next sandwich, not yet showing any particular sign of slowing down. A thought then strikes him, as they are occasionally known to and he turns to Phin, "hey, Lieutenant, if you're on lights and want to watch anyway, you fancy adjudicating? Just in case there's need?"

Lleufer has wolfishness enough for Phin and he both. His food is about half demolished, speaking between mouthfulls but not speaking /with/ his mouth full. Tall glass of tea to go with it, liberal dose of citris of some kind from Piraeus. The hunk of bread is torn in half to mop up some of his gravy. Lleufer looks back to Toby, "Who's tradition? Not one I'm familiar with." He eats a bit more, glancing to Phin and then back to the crewman, "I just asked if you wanted to do some sparring and you are trying to turn it into some sports match. Or, coming up with excuses, I'm not sure which." A bit of a grin there.

"Really?" Phin shrugs. "There are better hand-to-hand guys on the ship than me, but I can if you need someone for it. Sure. I know the rules…OK. My brother as into mixed martial arts for awhile. I used to watch, even though it was never really my thing. You guys wagering or is it just…" A pause, and look at Lleufer. "…for fun?"

Toby gives Lleufer a look akin to if the marine had just asked if grass is green, then grins back, "mine, of course, that's why I'm the one pushing for it. I'm not likely to start pushing Caprican, or Leonese ways am I?" He doesn't explain further though, taking another mouthful of food before turning to Phin, "you'll do fine, all you need to do is confirm that he squeeled his surrender and then I'll stop." There's a quick shake of his head at the sugegstion of there being a wager though. "Nah, no money on it. If anyone else decides they want to though then I'm not going to stop them." Like he could anyway.

The Marine shrugs, "I intended it for fun and practice. If Shackleton wants to have wagers and invite spectators, I don't suppose I care. Won't hurt my pride any if I land on my butt." Lleufer looks at Toby, still amused, "How about if you land on yours, Crewman?" Squealing? The Marine raises a brow, "I think you are apt to be disappointed." Lleufer works on finishing his meal. He's still got OCS studies to catch up on, then hit the gym for a while himself before shower and rack.

Phin gets half his sandwich eaten before setting it aside, and wrapping it in a napkin. "Think I'll save some of this for later." He does work on finishing the water, though. "Anyway, that sounds good. I assume you're going to have the throw down in the fitness center. Just let me know when it's going down, and I'll be there. Bet my schedule's lighter than either of yours for a little while."

The second sandwich rapidly goes the same way as the first before Toby gives Lleufer a slightly more serious reply. "Then I pick myself up, learn from it and return the favour next time Sergeant, that's how it works is it not?" Finishing his drink he slips his snack bar into a pocket and nods to Phin, "reckon you're right there. Try not to get used to having your feet up though cos you're bird'll just be sat there waiting for you."

Lleufer smiles and gives Toby a nod, "Aye, indeed. I look forward to it, Shackleton. Only decent sparring partner I've run into for a while was Lieutenant Maia. If you haven't sparred with her, you should sometime." The Marine doesn't actually remember Maia's last name. Lleu's finished his tray and sips the last dregs of his tea. To Phin, Ynyr's baritone adds low, "Glad we didn't loose any of you this last time. Need all our birds we can get in the sky over Picon soon enough. More the merrier."

Phin half-grins when Lleufer calls Maia 'Lieutenant Maia,' but there's no correction forthcoming from him. "Yeah, won't be long now," he says, of Picon. He tries to sound eager, but he seems too tired to work himself up to it at the moment. "Anyway. I'll see you guys later." With that, he pushes himself up from the table and heads out of the mess.

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