ALT #386: Surprise Me
Surprise me
Summary: Venting happens via the medium of a heavy punch bag.
Date: 27/Jan/2014
Related Logs: Burning Wings
Phin Toby 
Fitness Center - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
Smelling of sweat and grease, the Fitness Center is a place where individuals can come to work out or just work off stress. The area closest to the entrance is taken up by two very large sparring pads with a pathway down the center, each pad removable to reveal a Pyramid court beneath. The walls beside the pads hold lockers for everything from pugilist sticks to boxing gloves to rubber guns, though deadly weapons are strictly prohibited in here except by authorized personnel such as on-duty Military Police. Standing goalposts for Pyramid are also kept against the wall. Past the pads are a vast number of nautilus machines as well as free weights to lift. At the back of the room are workout bikes, rowing machines, treadmills, and stairclimbers. There is an entrance to the pool at the rear as well as a locker room to the side.
AWD #386

It's somewhat rare to see Phin McBride working the heavy bag. He'll spar if someone wants to, and he does the required hand-to-hand drills, but he's usually more for the pool or free weights. Today, however, he's boxing with himself. His hands are wrapped and he's intently punching the bag, grunting as he gives it a particularly hard hit. His form isn't terribly impressive, but he's competent enough. He's going about his fight with the bag in kind of sloppy fashion, but it's not like it's going to hit him back.

Toby, on the other hand, is an old hand with the bags, and given the way he's wrapping his hands as he enters the fitness centre it would seem that they're his target for today as well. "Lieutenant," he offers with a brief nod as he draws closer, then pauses for a moment or two to watch the other man's form before adding, "back on your feet already eh? Any news on the rest of your lot yet?" That said he then starts his warm up stretches, shoulders first.

Phin doesn't answer Toby right away. Hitting the bag has absorbed him. His peripheral vision does spot the deckie, though, and he pauses. Breathing hard. He's clearly been at it awhile. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. Got a couple scratches. Nothing major. What's a little shrapnel, right?" It's said grimly. It's kind of a joke, but a black one. "I got released yesterday, but they were keeping most everybody but me and Ygs…Milkshake…but her and me in Sickbay longer. Don't know if they've managed to get out by now. Storm was about to pace through the floor, so I figure he'll be out as soon as he can find a doctor to intimidate into signing him off."

Toby looks between Phin and the bag a moment then offers, "want me to hold it for you, stop it swinging so much?" Okay, it's a heavy bag so it doesn't move too much, but it would allow the pilot to vent a little more if he felt the need. "Sounds like the Major," he then replies with a slow nod before closing the last few metres so he can either hold Phin's bag or start working on his own. "You know they've got deck looking at the technical side of things? Looked like shit, glad you came out okay."

"Thanks," Phin mutters when Toby offers to hold the bag. He stops hitting it briefly, to take a gulp from his water bottle. "You find anything? It was sabotage, wasn't it?" The latter isn't really a question, but an insistence that Toby confirm what he already believes, with all the information he must surely have now now now.

The position on the opposite side of the bag to Phin makes it hard for Toby to read the pilot's features as he talks, but shifting slightly so the thing does not completely obscure line of sight he gives a quick glance round then nods slowly. "It's not exactly my area of expertise but from what I've seen, ain't no way it was an accident. Don't know what you saw, or remember, but we're looking at two seats of explosion. One catestrophic failure might, might be a failure in maintaince, or just damned bad luck. Two?" He shakes his head again. "No idea yet what did it exactly, bomb, grenade, fancy wiring, whatever, but we'll find out, and then we'll nail whatever bastard did it to the outside of the hull."

"There were two blasts. One, then another," Phin says. He keeps his tone as neutral as possible as he talks of it, though it takes obvious effort. He's not really good at stoic. "Sniper and Wolfman got blown away, right there. The poor tech running the computer, too. One minute, just going along. Next, face full of fire and shrapnel. That's the life, I guess." He takes a swing at the bag. It connects with feeling.

Toby nods once as the Phin confirms two blasts, means they likely haven't missed anything. He doesn't push for anything else though, that'll before the MPs later. He does however repeat, "we'll nail 'em, don't worry. Every fraking one." Steadying the bag after the hit he consider for a moment offering advice on technique, but then figures that right now likely isn't the time.

"You figure it was the skinjobs?" Again, it's not really a question. Phin gives the heavy bag another hard right. It would have a decent bruise from this, were it a person. "Has to be, right? Just like that frakker who shot up the mess hall." Slam, slam.

Toby nods again, slowly, as Phin talks, then adds, "or the ones who threw grenades into the bearthings on the Rabul. Yeah, it was the toasters alright. Who else benefits from taking you guys out? Not seen our Six about since, reckon he's gone to ground somewhere." Not that there's any actual posessiveness about Kow implied, it's a bitter comment, full of resentment. "Bright side? Mabe this is what Brass needs to wake the frak up. Too damn late though ain't it."

"Maybe Command's got him in lock down. Him and the one from Picon…the brunette skinjob who goes around in that red dress." Phin frowns. "Gods know there are a few guys in the Wing who wouldn't think too long about paying them back, if they thought it was them." Is he one of those guys? His tone doesn't suggest a personal threat, or even any real agreement that that should happen. But he's not exactly all about skinjob hugfests just now, either. "The One who shot up the mess was here for Redux, she said. Her and the ones like her onboard. Called her a traitor. It was like an execution. That's what she said, at least."

"Yeah, well she ain't here any more is she," Toby replies, missing a good portion of the point entirely, "so it can't have been aimed at her. Would have gone for the marines I reckon, or the science station downbelow. No, this wasn't the same, this was toasters gunning for humans, trying to finish what they started a year ago by taking out one of the main threats against them. Might have been one of those here, might have been another using their faces as cover, might have been one we haven't IDed yet. Like I sai dthough, we'll find out, and we'll nail 'em to the hull." What he doesn't add, but does think loudly is 'before the brass offer 'em amnesty in exchange for supposed infrmation'.

"Yeah, you'll figure it out." Phin sounds relatively confident, though it doesn't seem to bring him any comfort. He takes another swing, connecting again. "And then maybe in another few months they'll get another bomber in. Or we'll be getting shot down and shot up on Aerilon…" Punch. "…Caprica…" Punch. "…Libran…" Punch. "Or frak knows where. Age of Aries, man. War without end. Everywhere."

Toby almost states that they don't know about Piraeus, but then he realises he doesn't know how that One got onboard, and that troubles him, deeply. He just stands there, holding the bag in silence for a good long while before he flicks his attention back to Phin once more. "Ah, frak Ares," he starts, attempting to lighten the mood a little, "from what I remember he's just a big kid compensating for lacking in other areas. He knows jack shit other than smashy smashy. We'll end this, maybe not us personally, but it'll get won. We're people, they're machines, we'll work out how to turn 'em off. Hell, we already know how to kill centurians en-mass, just need engineering to get off their bcksides and sort the logistics out. I already lost one war remember, this ain't the same, I can tell."

"Yeah, he's kind of a jack-ass, all things considered," Phin says wryly. "But it's his world sometimes, and we're just living in it." Another swing at the bag and he backs off, to gulp more water. "You ever wonder what you'd have done if it hadn't been for the Cylons? Like…if you'd have hooked up with a sweet girl or gotten a job that didn't involve blowing shit up or…I don't know. Normal stuff."

"No offence Lieutenant, I know what you said about your schooling and all," Toby replies, "but I don't believe it is his world, never has been, never will be." He doesn't expand on that though, instead just shruging it off as he relaxes a little given that there are no more punches imminent. There's something in the question that follows though that lifts his mental guard somewhat and there's a definite period of silence before he replies vaguely, "sometimes. Less so now than before. Things.. it's complicated, but there was a massive change happening, 'life 'll never be the same again' type stuff, no idea how it would have worked out in the long run but in some ways, this is likely simpler." He pauses as he takes one hand off the bag to rub at the back of his neck before he confesses, "for me, likely safer too, if you can believe that."

"Simpler. Yeah. Definitely that." Phin doesn't sound particularly happy about the simplicity, but he can't help but agree. "I mean, I'm not complaining. I'm lucky, I get it. If I'd been back on the colonies I'd be dead, or being cattle-prodded around by a Centurion. As far as lives go, this is maybe as good as it gets." Again, he doesn't sound like he's sure he's happy about this. He doesn't ask about Toby's 'complicated' situation, but something else in what the deckie says seems to interest him. "Whose world do you figure it is, then?"

With the pause in active violence, Toby lets go of teh bag enirely and stretches his shoulders again, although it's more for something to do than because he's about to start a work out of his own. "Just got to remember to keep breathing in then breathing out eh?" he replies, apparently lacking a more formulated response. He does glance back to the pilot at the last question though and states after a moment or two, "our's. We make of it what we make of it and sure, we might get help from time to time, like this place I reckon, it sure as fraking hell ain't the Cylon's and it sure as fraking hell ain't the Lords' and Ladies' either." He's moving back to hold the bag again a he finishes speaking though, not perhaps looking entirely straight at the Phin.

Phin gulps more water as Toby talks, shrugging. "Ours. Yeah. I just…some days I don't know what we can make of it, except…to keep surviving. Fight and fight and fight another day until…" He puts down the water and does more punching. He connects, if not so hard as he was managing last time. "…until we blow up. What do you do with that, y'know? Even if you wanted…what more can you make of it if that's all there is? What does that offer anybody?"

Toby takes hold of the bag again, and if he notes the change in effectiveness he makes no comment on it. Listening as he braces he can only really shrug in response though. "I don't know, they didn't really teach philosophy in the Churchills I'm afraid and you're getting a bit deep for me there. I what I did get taught though, commradeship, life may give you shit but help each other out and it seems a little better. Sometimes goes so far as offering hope too, and thats a powerful thing too."

That seems to strike something Phin's skull that he groks. He untenses some, just giving the bag a tap with his knuckle rather than hitting it, nodding. "Yeah. I mean…yeah. True that. Anyway. I should hit the showers." He gestures vaguely in that direction. "Thanks for holding that thing. Good luck tracking down whoever…whatever…tried to blow us up."

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