A Long Time Coming
A Long Time Coming
Summary: Jupes and Barnabas continue their discussion from the Laundry.
Date: PH135 (01 September 2009)
Related Logs: Laundry Foes.
Players:
Barnabas..Jupiter..

CEC Kharon, Deck 3, Gym
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #135
OOC Time: Tue Sep 01 00:16:59 2009


This large room is large. The bulkheads are grey, like the rest of the ship, though the rubberized floor is a warm tan. A variety of blue mats, of varying thickness, are available to be pulled out for various purposes, though a huge mat in the back stays out to serve as as a sparring mat. A large red circle is taped down to mark the the boundaries of the ring.

Racks of free weights are bolted to the wall, and a few are bolted to the floor against the wall. Typical Nautilus style weight machines are available for use, as is a long bank of treadmills, a few step machines, and a couple of rowers. A few shelves of fresh folded white towels occupies a wall by the hatch, with a couple of bins below for used dirties. They are emptied often and washed. Thank your laundry personnel!


It's the Gym. What? You're suprised to find Barney here? He's here alright, ever since the ship stepped down from condition 2 to 3. He's a little sweaty, a little worked already, but the main thing to note is that he's NOT at the punching bag. Nope, he's shadowboxing in the middle of the ring, rolling through some basic jabs, punches and kicks before stepping through a few katas of various martial disciplines. If it wasn't obvious to tell a large part of his life was fighting, it is now.

That is, of course, when Jupiter decides to walk into the gym wearing her sweats, with a duffle bag over her shoulder, a towel across the back of her neck, and a bottle of water in hand. She wanders in through, past the treadmills, and comes up to the very edge of the large blue mat that makes up the ring. She stands there for a moment, watching the marine busy himself in the ring. Her eyes follow his shoulders, mostly, eyes narrowing slightly. Somehow, in all the times she's come in here, she missed him working out. She reaches over, and drops the duffle bag with a heavy whump.

"Black." Barney doesn't miss a damn beat. He's working his odd zen-like calm again right now. If she ever asked, he'd probably say how right now he's thinking about the mission to the Elpis. She loses a wingman? Rage. He loses a CO? Martial Arts brain-cleaning. Coping methods are usually different. He's still moving through the motions, shifting from one stance to another in an almost fluidic motion.

Jupiter takes a long drink from her water bottle. She stands there for a long moment, then pulls off her sweatshirt, revealing tank and tee below. She pulls the drawstring on her sweatpants a little tighter, and then bends to unzip her duffle, and pull out some tape. Shrrrrrp. She begins to slowly tape up her hands. "Volker." Her eyes follow the marine, blue eyes tracking.

And still he moves. A lot of the motions he steps through are ones used in their last meeting, just with an invisible opponent. His feet (bare right now) slide softly along, only moving in to the air at all when a knee raises to about chest height in a sharp snap. He can hear what's going on, and he has some idea what's about to happen.

The tape is wrapped up to her knuckles, and down over her wrists. She steps out of her gym shoes, and then reaches down to pull off her socks. She drops them in a little pile by the duffle, and steps onto the mat. She walks across it softly, near silently, and pauses just outside the taped circle of red on it, just outside the ring. It's there that she briefly stretches. And then she steps over the line.

Barney finishes up, sweeping his leg slowly in an almost complete 180-degree arc before bringing his legs together, facing Jupiter. One slow, long exhale, then the man is wearing a soft smile, the stoic look of concentration departing for now. "So you got cleared, then?"

It's really difficult to be a snarky brat in the face of zen and stoicism, but Jupiter is damn determined. "I sure look like I got cleared." She slides a rubberband off of her wrist, combs her fingers through her hair, and pulls it up into a short, curly tail. "Do you want to spar or not."

"Sure." Barney gives a little shake of his arms, flexing his fingers around his already-taped hands. He almost looks like he's about to bow to her for the shortest of moments, but he manages to resist the call. Something about being kicked in the chin makes him think it wouldn't be the best idea. There's just that normal, soft… slightly lopsided smile.

The fairer Black takes a slow breath, and rolls her shoulders briefly. Her hands come up and her stance widens a little. "Good." Her eyes drop down his stance, then she looks back up. And she smiles back. Oh, no. It's never a good thing when a Black smiles.

"You're looking a lot calmer, today." Barney observes as he starts to raise his hands, bending the elbows and holding out his hands (palm open) about 3/4 of a foot from his neck and chest. You know how it goes, he never physically starts these things. "I'm sorry about your brother." Mentally? Maybe he's just as bad as Ashe.

Jupiter is happy to start the physical stuff. It's her area of expertise. Usually, this happens in a bar. Statistically speaking. Bars are no more, however. That means it's up to the pilot to play it straight, play it fair, without chairs, broken bottles, ashtrays, tables, and sundry other drunken patrons for weapons and cover. Which isn't exactly a cheerful prospect when Barnabas is her opponent. She wastes no time, after the mention of her brother, in advancing with a volley of punches. Left, left, right, left, left. The last one is harder than the others, and angled slightly up, intended for his jaw, not his torso.

Barnabas catches a couple of the jabs square in the chest, caught a little off guard before he manages to put some air between Jupiter's fist and his head by stepping to HIS left. You know what happens now. He catches a hold of her wrist with his right hand, his left darting in to press against her elbow, folding the arm almost over her own neck as he keeps stepping until he's directly behind the pilot, still holding on to that wrist. She only has to turn to undo all that work, but the point was made. "He's a good guy. Heard the doc saying he should be fine after a while."

Jupes has two elbows. She's not above using one to jab the marine in the ribs as she rudely goes about undoing all that work he just went through. Her wrist turns in his grasp, a little painfully before she turns into him. She might stop there, but then there's a knee to the torso. It's not so much the result of her being faster as it is him taking his time making points instead of fighting. The more he pins or subdues limbs instead of popping her one, the more chances she has to find an opening, or do something painfully unexpected. "Don't talk to me about my brother."

Suprisingly enough, that's cool with him. The pop in the ribs staggers Barnabas back, and her arm gets yanked probably more than a little uncomfortably. He sure as hell lets go when a knee catches him right at the base of his ribs. For a moment, it almost feels like she's driving her knee under the ribs and up into his chest cavity. The marine goes down to a knee and coughs, patting his chest in an attempt to get breath back. When he does, you know what he uses it for. "Fine, YOU talk to ME about your brother." Oh, eyes watering.

There's a hiss-grunt in the wake of that pull. It wrenches her arm enough to send a twinge all the way up. Jupes reaches down to rub her wrist, holding it against her body for a moment. She blows out a soft breath. "He sleeps around in his own squad, with women who sleep feet apart, and is surprised when shit hits the fan. He's irresponsible, reckless, and the only reason he's in Medical right now is because he's not used to flying without me." Wait till she finds out who his wingman was. Gods, why does Barny always talk?

Barney uses a hand to pick himself from the floor, palm spread out across the mat as he shoves against it to stand once more. There's a little more coughing and patting on the chest before he's raising his arms forward again, starting to circle. "And Merlin? What about them?"

Jupiter stalks around Barnabas while he catches his breath, bare feet slapping the mat at regular intervals. She's full of barely restrained energy, all of it looking to go somewhere. "Merlin was an Ensign, barely out of diapers. People get put on my wing to learn to fly, to loosen up on the stick. Never should have gone into the asteroids with him. His spatial awareness sucks." She doesn't use the past tense. One might notice. One might not. "What's your point?" Her question is punctuated by a shot to the ribs. Quick like snake.

Barney's forearm sweeps down to divert the snake-shot towards his chest, his hand grabbing her wrist while hers has more than ample time to grab his right back. Kind of a stalemate on that one. He steps forward, getting up close and personal to place one leg behind hers. It could go eitherway from here. "How many people have you said either of those sentences to?" He doesn't make a call on the past tense. Ask him about the CO and see what he uses.

"No one, you ass." Jupiter scowls, hand snaking out to grab his. As his leg comes into play, she jerks to the side and pushes off the mat. He wants to tangle legs, she lets him. But if he doesn't step back in time, they're both hitting the mat, and it isn't going to be comfortable for the one on the bottom, who absorbs the shock. "Merlin's dead. Everybody who needs to know knows." Which doesn't explain why she just said it to him.

Barney doesn't step back. He does, however, kick his back leg outwards. Holy Jesus Watch Them Spin. Well, okay so it's only about another 90 to 100 degrees, leaving Barnabas to take most of the brunt, but Jupe's shoulder won't be having the best of days. While he's exhaling the air forced from him, he's glancing down to kick on the mat, releasing his arm from hers and dialing his hand around hers as if he's trying to use a rotary phone. Oh, Torsion. Slow, slow pick up off the floor. "That doesn't explain why you just said it to me."

That's perfectly fair, the move and the statement. Jupes grunts out breath as her body takes a hit, shoulder absorbing most of the brunt of that. And yeah, it hurts. "Shit." A kick follows Barnabas as he moves to get up. Or rather, a kick sweeps toward his ankle. He shouldn't move slowly, not when Jupes is also on the floor. "No. It doesn't."

Barney's caught by the sweep, it taking out his right leg the second after he's lifted his right hand from the floor. Back down onto his shoulder he goes, the fleshy muscle grazing against the mat in what will eventually come up as one hell of a shirt-burn. No more slowness is obviously the key, and the marine rolls away, putting enough distance between him and the pilot so he can actually stand up this time, right on the very edge of the ring. He exhales once more, brushing down his shirt. "When you work out why you did, come find me." Uh oh, Marine leaving.

Marine trying to leave. Jupes isn't about to let him walk out on this. They haven't even worked up a decent sweat yet. Not only that, her shoulder barely aches. First bout out of light duty does not get to walk off. If she has to, she'll grab the back of his shirt. It's not kosherized rules, but the pilot isn't above skirting the lines of fair play. "What are you, my priest?"

And she has to. Damn near choking Barney with his collar if need be. More importantly, it works, and Jupiter gets to see probably what she's being trying to drag out of him since they reunited in the sickbay. Anger. "No. I'm the guy willing to hear out the whiny little girl who's always kicking and screaming and yelling at the universe because nobody's listening." His hand wraps around to her wirst. Not grabbing, just smacking it away from his collar. "You yell and you shout in everything you do. Probably not through words, but your actions alone have shown me… everyone that already. What is it?" He starts stepping forward with each guess he makes. "The universe doesn't deserve you?" Step. "You don't deserve what you've got?" Step. "You haven't got a damn clue what to do now that everyone else is dead?" Step. "You screwed up and got your wingman killed?" Step. Hopefully she's backing up by now or he's right in her grille. "He screwed up and nearly got you killed?" Step. The final one. "I don't know if you actually believe you're this badass pilot who may as well be nigh untouchable unless someone else screws up, but you sure as hell act like it." He stares, directly at Jupiter Black. Angry Barney in full swing… despite the fact he's never once raised his voice. "And all I see is a little girl too scared to go visit her brother."

The thing is, by the time Barnabas is within her personal comfort zone, which is about two feet from her body, she backs up a step. He steps in, she steps back. "Do you know why pilots have that attitude?" After all of that, it's really the only thing that can get past her lips. Her right fist curls into a fist at her thigh. A tight, closed fist. Her fingernails bite into her palm, hard. Her voice is quiet, just shy of a little growl. It's not, though. It's just very, very restrained.

Barnabas stands where he is, looking directly at her. Hell, his thumbs tuck into the waistband of his sweatpants. It's apparent that the marine is pretty much willing to take what he's got coming for him. Maybe for once it'll be words. For a moment, half-face has a whole face, and all of it is showing… sympathy? regret? Something along those lines. "Tell me."

"The second you second guess in the cockpit, you die. We don't have body armor, or the luxury of cover. You take a hit in the wrong place, you're on your own, if you don't just explode." Jupiter steps toward Barnabas. One step. "If I see him and he dies, I have nothing but the memory of him dying in a bed to take with me every time I hit the tubes. I may as well strap on a tutu and stand in front of the main battery." She doesn't hit him, not yet, but the tension thrumming down her arm says she really, really wants to. "So yeah. I'm scared to visit my brother. He's all I have, and I can't see him like that. You arrogant prick." She's really thinking about hitting him right now. From this close, this angle, she could break his jaw. That thought is so, so cheerful.

Swing with the left. The left side of Barney's jaw might be a bit too metal for her tastes. There'd probably be hands on her shoulders by now if this was aiming to be incredibly cliche'd. Sadly, it's post holocaust, most cliches are just bad memories. His hands stay where they are. "You want to hit me, go ahead." It's quiet, Volker's face almost sympathetic in what could be an attempt to be soothing. "But if you break me, that's two people in the ward you won't visit, and I'm the one that actually listens to the vitrol you spew from that angry little orifice you call a mouth."

One breath, two. The line of her shoulders is tense, muscle corded with just the thought of popping Barnabas one. She stares up at him, bright blue eyes fixed. The height difference isn't very much. Jupi swings. It was inevitable after the last thing he said. It was inevitable as soon as he called her a scared little girl right to her face, but that last bit seals the deal.

Barney is ducking as soon as her shoulder starts to move for the pun, the man's head and torso going low while his arm hooks high to meet the swing at the elbow. That'll probably sting for a bit. While they're still hooked, a free hand grabs at the collar of her top, stretching and pulling and very nearly bringing her into an embrace. It would probably be sweet if he weren't falling sideways so both marine and pilot thud into the mat with equal force, sides and locked shoulders first.

Jupiter's other hand is buried in his tanks by the time they hit the floor with a heavy thud. Her shoulder's wrenched a little, and there's nothing soft about the grunt that exits her lips. Despite the pain from the throw-fall, her legs scramble to tangle with his as she tries to snag the upper hand. She might kick him in the shin in the process, but bare feet are less painful that heavy boots. Good thing they both took off their shoes.

Barney's own legs are trying their utmost to stop Jupe's plan, although the previous move probably took more wind out of his own lungs than hers. Taking deep, sharp inhales as he moves, Volker makes an attempt to lock her arms, his own arms slipping under her pits so she can't elbow him in the face. It'd be huggy and sweet if she wasn't trying to hospitalise him right now.

Jupes is half way up Barney's body before he gets a solid arm lock on her, which means her legs are tangled on his, thighs with a deathgrip on his hips, one leg curled under the back of his, locked between the back of her thigh and calf, the top of her foot digging into his opposite Duel immobilization. Fun! She grunts out through clenched teeth, "I hope you like pain, asshole."

"Comes packaged with liking you." Barney's mouth is close enough to whisper that into Jupe's ear if he wanted to, but considering his concentration is a little more on not having things broken, it's more uttered to a point somewhere behind her head while his legs try to gain something approaching an advantage. They can't, and about all he can attempt is to roll her on to her back and work from there.

Jupiter fights the roll, every muscle in her body tensed to resist it, but it's only a matter of time before the larger marine gets enough force to shove her. Her fingernails dig in, and her legs tighten on his. She tries to break the hold, but has about as much luck with the arms as he does with the legs. "I guess it's a good thing… you don't."

They're both kind of stuck. Stalemated until one or the other relents. Barney's sure not letting go of the grip he has, and it's pretty sure by now that Jupes is using what leverage she has to not give away any other advantage. Barney too is tensed, replying "If I didn't.." Grunt. Struggle. "like you, would I have been trying to find out…" A little more tensing and movement from his arms, but nothing comes from it. "what has you upset?" It's all through clenched teeth.

The reply is also hissed through clenched teeth. Her legs begin to shake a little with the effort of keeping him immobilized. When you're used to rolling around with pilots, keeping a 27 year old marine on his back isn't easy. Her foot eventually slides just enough to pop off of his thigh, leaving her leg curled around only one of his, which changes the scenery somewhat. She just lost the leverage. "… Frak — You're not a priest. You'll just throw it…" Grunt. "In my face later."

"I would have done that already." Apparently Barney is pretty serious. Or at least thinking hard enough about it that the fact he now has the advantage goes completely over his head. Or maybe he's just ignoring it. He's still just pinning somewhat to the floor, legs moving just a little outwards (not enough to suggest he knows she slipped) so he gets a little better purchase.

"So what the frak is this?" Jupes grunts again, teeth clenched. She jerks her arm a little, but it ends up just hurting her shoulder more. She scowls, blue eyes narrowing, before she finally relaxes a little against the mat. Yanking her shoulders all around isn't serving any other purpose than to hurt.

The second Jupiter is relaxing, Volker's moving away. The 'hug' is finally broken and his own shoulders are given a well needed rest while he sits upright. There's still a little leg-wrapping, so it's possibly not over yet. It might be, though, considering he's relaxing as well, left hand going to right shoulder as his arm rotates and Jupes gets his green eyes staring right at her. "You trying to hit me, as usual. You've always swung first, y'know."

Jupes' leg doesn't unwrap from the one of his she has trapped. So while there's no punching immediately forthcoming, it certainly isn't complete chatty friend time. Of all things, his words make her smile slightly, though it could be a smirk. "Why do you think I'm still alive?" Her leg tightens just a little. Her legs are where most of her strength is anyway.

Barney looks down, glancing at the leg wrapped around and keeping him in place, still. Before he looks up, there's a "Sure, sure. Good tactic." and a nod, but then he's looking directly at her face again. Well, face and the smirk/smile, his own smirk growing on both sides of his mouth. "But it's also the same reason you end up talking to me about all the shit that's bothering you. Doesn't that kinda make it a bad deal?" His aching shoulders give a little shrug, and his smirk grows.

"No, you idiot," Jupiter replies, without loosening the tangle of her legs. "You're a marine, sissyboy, learn to take a punch." She doesn't even hesitate to reply. The pilot clearly has no qualms about confiding in, and then promptly punching, her confessor.

"I can take a punch." Barney crosses his arms and attempts to look a little pouty. It.. half works. Maybe. "Maybe you should learn to tell me shit without having to go all crazy and crush my skull afterwards." Hrmph. He's not really trying to untangle, either. She'll let him go when she's good and ready. He hopes. "There's only a few times I'm willing to hear noises out of a person's mouth when they're trying to hit me without me really getting annoyed about it, an' you ain't naked and I ain't drunk."

"Don't be a pussy. I tell you something and you pop off at me, you get a punch for it. It's the law of this jungle, you dumbass marine." Jupiter grunts and slides her leg from the tangle of Barney's. She reaches up to sweep a hand through her hair, and the ponytail that has gone quite askew. She yanks out the band. "Quit pouting, it makes you look twelve."

Unhindered by the tangle, Barney is free to scootch backwards across the ring mat. So he does. "So tell me shit without being a whiny little girl about it." He's grinning, believe it or not. Or at the very least, wearing a big ol' smirk as he leans back on his hands, still with the sitting. "Maybe one day we could actually have a conversation, like normal folk."

Jupiter stretches out on the mat again, her arms slid up to prop her head off of the mat after she snaps the rubberband around one wrist. She glances over at Barney as he retreats to his side of the ring. "What frakkin' fun would that be, asshole? Then we'd just be sitting in the Mess chatting over a table and everybody'd think I'm getting old and slow. Two birds, one stone, bitch."

"Next time, I'm teaching you some throws that look good but do sweet frak-all injury wise. You get to look all tough, we get to spend time outta medbay, and I don't have to risk breaking your knee just to get an answer to 'Hey, how's it going?'" Barney starts to mimic Jupes, pose wise. The only difference being he is on his side while she's on her back.

Jupiter glances over at Barney out of the corner of her eye. She considers that for a moment, then notes, "It's not as satisfying." There's a pause in which she brushes her fingers through her hair and resumes her arm pillowed pose. "I guess I can get on board with that, but you better make it look real."

"Of course." Barney just keeps on smirking, even when he pushes himself from the ground to stand. His pants get dusted off, then a hand is offered out to Jupes, fingers wiggling just a little. "I need to go get a shower." That's a statement. "Probably a cold one, we were all wrapped up for a while, there." That's an uneeded statement.

"'Sa matter, bootie," Jupes tips up, by the power of abs! And she reaches for his hand to take it, to let him help her up. She pulls with her arm and pushes with her legs to pop up, unless Barney doesn't brace. Then they're going down again. "You hit the shower on the back left, the hot water never works right anyway. Extra privacy if you need to address your little soldier." Now it's her turn to smirk. Oh, smirky people.

While she may hope for it to be the other outcome, Barney does actually brace so she's forced to stand. Poor Jupes. "You're not allowed to mock when your hips are all wiggly and swaying when you're trying to kill me." Yeah, the two are definitely back to the more normal, subdued taunting now. Which is probably for the best, although Barney's mouth might not see it that way, poor thing is starting to ache with all the smirkygrins.

Jupiter laughs, and reaches up to pat Barney's cheek, the unscarred one. "That's okay. It happens to everyone. I'm irresistible." She's so modest, too. It comes of being a Black. "Just remember to breathe and you'll be fine." She reaches up to tug his tanks back into order, then smacks the marine's stomach. "Shoo."

Barney just shakes his head, looking down at the ground for a few moments while snickering. "I meant the hip wiggling was a reactive thing, not a provocati- Nevermind." His point was made well enough. Smirk finally fading, Jupes just gets a little nod before he heel-turns away for showertimes.

Jupiter's eyes trail down the marine's backside. "Enjoy." What. He's a marine. That means his ass has a certain rating right out of the box. She crosses her arms, winces slightly at the protest of her shoulder, and then goes back to what it is she came in here for — taking a frakkin' run on the frakkin' treadmill. "If you get lost, call for a SAR. I'm sure Black squad could use the practice."

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