Fight Night IV - The Fightening
Fight Night IV - The Fightening
Summary: Volker v. Legacy, Nikos v. Marek, Cavalera v. Cedris, & Elder v. Ajtai.
Date: PH130 (26 AUG 2009)
Related Logs: None

CEC Kharon, Deck 3, Gym
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #130
OOC Time: Wed Aug 26 19:48:26 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!

As the Gym slowly fills with ships personnel, MSGT Peri Nikos, in his off duties, presides over the tin tag box near the side of the ring, standing with a lit stogie in his mouth. His squinty dark eyes survey the crowd, as the occasional pair of dogtags is tossed into the box with a little clatter. The tall, wall-built marine is silent for a time, simply eyeballing anyone who comes near.

Jules trots into the gym and right over to the Master Sergeant, drawing up short in front of him. She gives him a big smile, a batting of baby blue eyes and then tugs off her tags and chucks them into the box. Turning to face the ring, she looks around at the other gathering potential fightees. "I think it's gonna be another good one tonight, Sarge."

Per usual when these lovely nights of violence roll around, Sergeant Elder has managed to make a showing, though- in his last time here, o tags were drawn. Such is the luck of the Tauron. Either way our favored marine medic is currently sitting down by ringside, his tags already in, with his trusty medkit by his side. A plume of smoke, leaving his cigar Dutch finds himself, busy wrapping his wrists and hands respectively with tape.

"..3..4..5..6. Done."

Oddly enough, the Raptor Captain comes in to drop her tags in as well. There's an extra little clink of the bullet against the chain as Thea drops them. She's smiling tonight, a silver coin flipping through her fingers as she glances around to see who's here. There's the usual dipping of her head to those she knows - but she doesn't speak, not yet.

Ajtai wanders in, fully intent on taking part in the night's activities. She has her sweats on and quite possibly shorts under the baggy pants, and her tags in her hands which are deposited in the proper place to signify she's taking part. Once done she's moving away, finding a place to stand and watch for now.

Leda has been training for this, granted Barnabas knocked his ass to the floor, still though, at least a few pilots are present and Leda wants to bring some amount of pride to the wing so he is here to throw down and hopefully drop someone as opposed to going down like a little bitch. Anyway, this is a moment to throw down. He looks over at Legacy and then to Kitty and he makes his way to the Captain first but he makes sure to save a spot for Kitty should she be willing to join.

In the back of the gym, Salazar Nikos finishes up with a punching bag, and wipes a towel across the back of her neck before patting her face dry. She stands near an open duffle bag, a bottle of water on the floor near her feet. She wears her sweats, and her hair is pinned up in a knot, loose, dark strands damp with sweat. She's been at it a while, from the look of her, and her eyes have yet to turn toward the ring, her cousin, and the box of dogtags he guards.

MSGT nods to Jules as the peppy blonde chucks her tag in the box, and makes her prediction about the night. "Fight night is always good, Sunshine. It's good for the soul, and it's good for the body." He puffs his cigar and nods again, thinking ahead to all of the glorious violence.

Kai might or might not be here to participate in violence, tonight. He's got his hands tucked into the pockets of his fatigue trousers as he strolls into the gym, jacket unbuttoned though clearly displaying his squadron's patch across one shoulder. It's not difficult to spot the Master Sergeant and the ring where things are getting set up, and begins angling in that direction.

Thea makes her way over toward Kitty and Castor, smile warm, coin flipping through her fingers. "Looks like we've got a good showing tonight," she says quietly, loud enough for the pair of them to hear. "It should be a wonderful dance. We've got some healthy competition. You both ready?" She catches sight of Kai as he moves in and her eyes follow him for just a moment before cutting back to the other two Air-Wing members.

Leda looks back at Legacy, "Aye, Captain, that we do. Maybe we will acctually win one for once." He says with a look in his eye that says, 'I've been training for this'. He then nods his head, "I'm ready, sir, I was born ready." As Kai steps into the ring Castor looks at Papabear and then he offers a nod and a smile, "There he goes." Leda says quietly as he watches Kai approach the S2.

Dutch is still seated where he should be, and really hasn't made any effort to greet any of the pilots coming in. With his hands fully wrapped, he is readying th' gloves, he's been using since day one, already getting the laces just so. A sniff as eyes finally do trail up, and he watches one small group of fighter-eyes lingering on the red head, before he is looking on past towards the CAG marching on up towards the MSGT. A shake of his head, and Elder clamps down on the cigar in his mouth.

"Know what else is good for the soul and for the body?" Jules leaves the question in the air a few moments, just long enough for the dirtier minds in the vicinity to wander before she answers her own question, "Hugs, of course." She turns her head and gives Master Sergeant Nikos a Meaningful Look <tm>.

Kai hasn't actually noticed Salazar, yet. He has, however, spotted the trio of pilots, and draws up alongside Legacy where he'll have a good view of the ring. "Evening," he greets the small group of his wingmates. Addict that he is, he's already starting to dig out a cigarette. "Any of you throwing your tags in, tonight?" Jules, once glimpsed nearby, is given a small smile and an even smaller nod.

"I don't know," Kitty admits to Legacy when she turns to face her and Castor both, nervousness mingling with the excitement; with how she's feeling, she'd be talking to herself if she was alone. "I think I'm going to be able to hold my own for a while, Sir, but I'm not going to be walking in there with any kind of expectations." Groaning, she takes up a bit of space, legs now bouncing as she looks around.

Salazar cuts her eyes toward the ring once she's finished toweling herself off. She peels off her sweatshirt, tugging it off over her hand wraps and the tee underneath. Her muscles are warm enough that she in no way needs the long sleeves. She tosses that down onto the pile of her duffle, and bends to retrieve the water bottle. It's cracked open before she takes a swig.

MSGT Nikos gives the box in his hand a rattle, then tosses it to the mat, where it's open game for anyone to throw in their tags without having to reach into the personal space of a large, cigar smoking marine. His eyes flick to Jules as she invokes hugs. He crosses his arms over his chest, muscular arms bulging just a little.

Thea gently nudges Castor with her shoulder, laughing quietly. "I believe you were," she teases him and then grins at Kitty. "Deep breaths," she tells the other woman. "Hmmm. Reminds me. We have callsign issues with you. Perhaps tonight will inspire me. Right now, Bounce works well." Her eyes twinkle a little. As the S2 turns toward the ring, Thea catches sight and lifts a hand in greeting. Whoops, then there's a Kai. "Evening Spider," she greets the man quietly. "Mine are in, though it's anyone's guess who I'll catch. With my luck, I'll pull Elder."

"Sir, my tags went in the moment I got here. Someone has to try to bring some pride to the ring." He then looks over at Kitty, "Go on, throw your tags in, I mean, you might win. I told you that you've got some skill." He then takes a moment to l ook up at Nikos before he gets nudged by Legacy, "Thanks, Captain." He then chuckles, "Ooooh, right, Kitty you should throw down just to see if you get a callsign out of this."

Kai looks mildly amused at Kitty's bouncing, but doesn't comment on it, staid individual that he is. "Elder seems a decent sort," he offers Legacy quietly, blue eyes shifting to the marine in question. "Seems the type to mop the floor with you, then patch you up after." Castor just gets a chuckle when he talks about bringing pride to the wing.

Jules doesn't look intimidated by MSGT Nikos' rebuff of her invocation of hugs. She -does- eye the man's upper body and arms, however, and smiles brightly. "Don't tell me you lost your appreciation for hugs when you got all those rippling pectorals, Sarge."

Kitty grins. "Already done. Dropped them as soon as I arrived." She isn't exactly enjoying the idea of getting her ass handed to her but Kit has put something rather big on the line, that being her self-confidence in a challenge she imposed to herrself. Kai is smiled to and given a quick salute but it looks odd as it coinsides with a few bounces. "Callsign, huh? I am almost scared to think about what you guys might come up with." Like 'Bounce'. Very scary.

From the hatch appears a set of tags, rushing from the entryway to the pile with 'utmost haste' being the understatement of the century. Oh, and they're attached to a Sergeant Barnabas Volker. But he's currently just a mere vessel. A temporary bearer of the tags before they've found their rightful place where they belong. Rummaged in to other, identical prints of metal bearing different names. There's plenty of nudging and elbowing to get close enough to throw them in, if it's needed. Fear the grin on his face. It's almost as though he's been waiting for this ever since he got out of the ward. Well, Ok, so maybe he has. Don't tell the docs. Or the dentist. For the love of the gods don't tell the dentist.

Sal reaches up to fish the tags off of her neck. She pulls them up and over her hair, tipping her head a little as they catch just on the curve of a little earring. She flexes her fingers in the hand wraps, and then walks over toward her cousin, sipping from the bottle of water. "Peri." Sal's hand drops on the marine's back a moment later, as she leans into the small cloud of cigar smoke, and tosses her tags into the box. The tags hit with a tink, but the chain lands over the side. "Too bad your tags aren't in, old man."

MSGT eyes Jules for a moment, silent. Smoke puffs from his lips, swirling like dragon's breath in front of his eyes. He gruffs out, "My tags will go into the box when there's someone who has half a chance in hell of surviving it." He's looking at Jules as he says it, too.

There's another shift of his cigar and already the Marine is looking back towards Jules and Nikos with a faint grin, but it probably looks more like a snarl with that cigar in his mouth. A chuckle for a second, but it seems to just all be smoke before a cough rolls a little over. Dutch then clears his throat as he leans back in his seat and merely waits. This is what he does best, among his other chief skill as cylon bullet magnet.

"Love you, Master Sergeant," Jules let's out quietly, sidling out of range of the man's meaty paws in the same breath. She glances through the crowd again and spots Dutch, moving on up to stand next to the Marine. "I love fight night," she enthuses.

Leda looks over at Legacy, "Captain, I threw down with Dutch once…I held my own but he beat my ass." He chuckles softly as he looks over at Kitty, "You can do this and even if you fail it is okay, I haven't won a match yet at the dance." He then begins to look at everyone as they enter. He then looks and waits for the first fight to be announced.

Maybe it's the 'old man' that catches his attention, even though it's not directed at him for once. Or maybe it's just Salazar's sparkling personality. Either way, the S2 gets a glance from the CAG as she strolls over to hassle the MSGT, right before Kai lights up and takes a drag from his smoke. He considers the number of pilots participating tonight, then finally steps forward and slings his tags off, before lobbing them into the tin.

Master Sarge bends to rattle a meaty paw around in the box, then drags out a couple of tags. He straightens, and flips them over to have a better look, fragrant smoke surrounding him in an aura of sweet Scorpian herbs. "Legacy and Volker." He glances over as a pair of tags sails in just as he pulls some out. "Watch it, fairy." Grumble.

Thea grins at the other pilots then reaches for the tape to begin the process of wrapping her hands. "It seems like it's filling up, truth be…" Oh. Crap. That's HER name. The Captain glances around for her opponent, then blanches only a bit as she spots him. "Well, looks like my dance card is full," she says, tone dry. "If I come back in pieces, Marek gets the contents of my locker and Madman gets my clothes." Wait, Matto? Her clothes? Huhwha? As she moves past the MSGT to the ring, Thea flashes him a smile and blows a kiss. "Fairy, hmmm? You seem adept at identifying them." Ooooh. Dem's fightin' words.

Dutch chuckles again as eyes slide over towards Jules, and there is a nod. "Uh Huh." a pause as he does at least turn his head to spit out away from Sunshine, before he's looking to the ring. Oh, Volker and Legacy-well this should be good. A glance back towards the marine at his side "You'll miss em groundside?"

Barnabas begins to make his way outwards, finding somewhere he can sit that's a little out of the way. He's looking more than a little sheepish considering the haste and speed of his entrance. Seriously, his chin is damn near tucked against his chest. He'd probably have done a pretty good job of disappearing away from the hustle around the box if it wasn't for his name being called. There's the soft exhale of something appearing to be a cross between a sign and a smile. "Well. That was quick." Abooout-turn. Back to the ring.

Kai moves to rejoin Legacy, just as her name's called. A glance at the competition has him furrowing his brows slightly, expression briefly circumspect. "Luck, Black Cat," he murmurs, touching her shoulder as she moves off.

Leda looks at Legacy, "Captain, be careful with him, he is a frakking brawler. The man is skilled." He then says, "So keep your guard up and make sure to stay on the defensive." He then looks over at Kai and then back to Kitty, "Really, it isn't about winnging or losing, but, I get a feeling you won't do poorly." He then looks back at the other marines and he thinks this is going to be a long night.

"I'm sure I'll do just find, Castor," Kitty says to him with a wink. "It can't end any worse than our match did, right?" When Thea gets called into the ring Kitty hurriedly sends a 'good luck' after the Captain's way and then she takes to looking at her opponite. "Wow. That's…wow."

Salazar steps back from the large marine as he goes into gruff mode. She grins at the exchange between Jules and MSGT, and glances over as the CAG comes into her peripheral vision to toss his tags in. She flicks her dark gaze back to her cousin as the big marine gives a growled warning to the pilot. Amusement ensues, but she keeps it mostly on the inside, and hidden behind a bottle of water.

"I will, in fact." Jules allows herself a look over at Dutch, meeting his gaze when he looks her way before looking at the challengers as they move to the ring. "I'll come back, though. And that's a fact, too. Once a Marine, always a Marine."

Thea's waiting in the center of the ring for SGT Volker. The redheaded Captain's attention is on her opponent and the way he moves. It looks, almost, like she's shutting everything else out. Once he's in the ring, she offers him a smile and her hand. "Good luck," she says quietly. There is, however, tension in her shoulders, as if she's ready for the hell of a fight (and beating) she knows this is going to be.

Kai tucks his cigarette between his lips, free hand remaining in his pocket while he drags from the thing, eyes fixed on the combatants moving into the ring. Castor's commentary nearby doesn't elicit much reaction from the Captain, though he does step in a little closer to his pilot. Air wing over here, CMC over there, looks like business as usual on fight night.

The sighed smile on Volker's face grows into a full-blown grin as he reaches the ring, flashing most of his teeth directly at Legacy along with a quick "Same to you." before he enters himself into the area it's QUITE possible he's going to be staggering out of very shortly. Compared to Thea, he's somewhat at ease. Well, apart from the little glance around. What? he noticed the difference between the two… 'cliques' responses to the calls. "Where the hell is all the Marine love, huh?" Damn right it's yelled just before his brings his hands up into a guard.

Oh cue, Salazar calls out, in a booming voice reserved, usually, for large and open spaces, "OORAH!" That, my friends, is the voice of a drill sergeant coming right out of the S2. What? She's related to Master Sarge. You knew it would happen sometime.

Dutch chuckles as Volker is already asking for love. A shake of his head and Elder is bringing to fingers to his lips in order to let loose a sharp, and shrill whistle. For now that is all the advice, that Dutch has..Well, one more piece which has served him well in all of these years "Hey Volker! Punch her in the tit!"

Despite the fact that Thea's up against a Marine, she doesn't hesitate to go on the offensive first. Arms up, she moves around him slightly, going to the left, before stepping in to aim a punch at the man's gut. Nope, she's not a girl who goes for the face, at least not at first. The gut punch is follwed by another aimed for his right shoulder. Her face is a study in concentration - and determination. Redhead = stubborn, afterall.

Let it never be said that Jules isn't a perceptive creature. At the call for love from her fellow Marine, she immediately faces the ring and calls out, after Dutch, "Yeah, right in the boob! Punch her lots and make her cry and stuff!" She pumps her fist, even. Hardcore.

There's a nod as Kitty listens but she doesn't say anything; of course winning isn't everything but she's not wanting to get her ego bruised too much in one fell swoop so maybe she'll get lucky and win one match before getting knocked out.

Master Sergeant's eyes are on the fight until Jupes speaks. His dark eyes (though, really, he squints so much it's often hard to tell just what color they are), shift to the blonde marine. He blinks once, blows out a breath of smoke, and then shakes his head. Cry and stuff. "Private. Work on your trash talk."

The pilot section isn't without its hellraisers, of course; a few whoops go up — loudly — as Thea launches right in on the offensive. The CAG's face, meanwhile, is a study in austerity with just a hint of anticipatory tension; his eyes are riveted on the match, even if he isn't making any noise.

Leda shouts out, "Come on, Cap, rip his cock off!" He then looks back at Kai, "This might go well after all." And then he looks at Kitty, "See, see, how can this not be fun?"

The S2's eyes go right to Leda as he boisterously jumps into the yelling of trash, and she salutes him with her bottle, though he might be too riveted on the match to notice it. Yeesh. Her eyes flick back to the ring.

Randy makes her way into the gym like normal, swats and lack of night stick betraying her not being on duty as she narrows her eyes and finds a place to get situated, perching herself out of the way and watching with narrowed eyes.

It's not like Volker intended to dissapoint Dutch, but there's no tit punching just yet. While going for the gut would be a valid tactic against the obviously faster Thea, it doesn't look like he's wanting this to go on long enough for stamina to become an issue. He's out of his corner a little slower than his opponent, and while his raised guard helps against her sudden onslaught of punches, he still takes a stiff blow to the gut before he manages to roll his right shoulder, allowing her second hit to glance while his left hand snaps some sharp jabs directly at her cheek. Bitter, much?

Leda's trash talking doesn't phase his Captain, but then, few things do when you've spent as much time around viper jocks as he has. "That's the spirit," he deadpans to the junior pilot, pulls again from his cigarette, and tries not to get buffeted too badly by the pilots elbowing in for a better vantage point. "Come on, Thea," he murmurs softly around his cigarette.

Dutch is raising a brow as he watches Volker mover. After all he's not seen much of the other Sergeant for some time. But, there is a reason to that right? A wince as the Sarge's punches land and he is shaking his head again once more. "Gonna be a good night, Sunshine-gonna be a good night."

Kitty's face alternates between pale and flushed, that being a 'gift' from Castor as she reacts to what he just yelled to Thea. "Wonder what she'd do with it," she utters to herself under her breath, the habit of talking to herself kicking in. "Think she'd turn it into a trophy and have it mounted on her wall….huh, maybe it can be used as a paperweight…" The ECO continues to hold a monologue with herself, allowing the others to yell and root the Captain on verbally while she does so quietly, in her head.

Blink. Jules looks sheepishly over her shoulder at MSGT, all apologies in her expression. Then it's back to the fight. "NICE HIT SARGE!" Right. Well, it's better than 'stuff.' She nods enthusiastically at Dutch and says, "It's gonna be a Marine night, I reckon!"

Thea takes the hit like a pilot. Which means to say her head snaps to the side and one can almost hear the tinkling of glass in the background. That's gonna leave a mark. She dances back out of his reach for a moment, shaking her head slightly. There's a small trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth, but nothing serious. Lips purse briefly as she reassesses her opponent then launches into another salvo. In she goes, trying to get up close and personal, in Volker's space. The first punch goes for the throat, the second for his ribs and the third for the solar plexus - again. Given that she's in close, it's likely that nothing's going to get too fancy. At no point does the female Captain go for Volker's cock. Some things are below even pilots.

Leda catches the S2's salute and he smiles and then as he hears Kitty he says, "Yeah, Cap, rip it off and bronze it! Don't let Kitters down." He then notices the hit and he takes a moment to wince, "GET HIM, CAP!" He shouts out like a rally cry.

Late, better than never, the door to the hatch opens and Damon steps through. Wearing his sweats, he's recently just arrived from the showers at the head after yet another grueling day of boot camp. Being run hard and put up wet by the Master Sergeant, Damon has had an order delivered that as a requirement for boot…he has to compete. Closing the hatch behind him, he heads quietly across the floor towards the bleachers.

MSGT Nikos stands by the edge of the ring, stock still and silent as he watches the bout through a screen of his own cigar smoke. He doesn't call out points, but keeps a tally as the fight progresses, eyes locked on the duo trading blows on the mat.

Barney's guarded up, sure. Trouble is, he's trying to muscle his way to the inside behind the cover of those jabs, while Thea is moving in at the same time. That makes it a little harder to weave away from a punch COMING RIGHT FOR HIS NECK. That doesn't mean he's not weaving, though, so instead of a sudden breathing problem, he weaves his head INTO a fist upside the already-busted cheek, connecting pretty damn solid with the bone underneath. He's shaking out the cobwebs when another couple of punches try to work their way past the guard, one catching the shoulder with a solid blow while the other hits hard enough to leave one hell of a bruise on his forearm in the morning. Then comes the reply, snapping another jab towards the Captain's collarbone before a single right uppercut veers his way towards her jaw the second he's close enough.

"Bronzed….wait, what?" That's a bit too much for Kitty's poor brain and for a moment she gawks, staring ring-ward while the gears in her brain quickly grind to a halt. That's right, Castor just broke her.

Thea's almost holding her own. Almost. But so far, while she has more blows landed, Barnabas is landing the ones that count. She's moving - oh, she's moving. That seems to be Thea's MO. But that hit to the collarbone knocks her off-center and she steps back, just in time to catch the one across the jaw. Her head snaps -again-, kind of like a kid's toy. He just hit her so hard that her descendants will be born with swollen jaws and loose teeth. Unfortunately, redhead = stubborn. Rather than dart back in again, though, Thea starts to circle a bit more cautiously, this time to the right. This time she goes straight for a jab to the point of the chin, followed up by a hook to the -good- cheek, rather than the bad one. Clearly she's trying to make his face match up, given her expression.

"Bronzed," Kai repeats, on the tail-end of an exhale of smoke. He glances briefly toward Kitty, then back to the fight. "You know, something to put on the mantle as a keepsake." Legacy's tenacity earns a small, somewhat proud looking smile from the CAG, subtle though it is. He watches as she lunges for the marine's face, ash flicked off the end of his cigarette absently.

Salazar's eyes are on the marine, his shoulders, studying his tactics. She's never seen him fight before, after all. He's still under review before being returned to full duty. It's an informal evaluation, it is. She winces slightly as he goes right for the face, but the expression settles as the redhead in the ring gives some hardass right back. Salazar nods, sipping from her bottled water while the combatants tenderize each other with well trained hands. "I think I need a cold shower."

Leda watches the fight now and for his part he is silent because this is the make or break moment of the fight and he can sense it coming. He then takes a second to lean in as he holds his breath waiting to see what will happen next.

His opponent is a flighty one, that's for sure. Volker probably should have guessed that much, considering she's a pilot. While she circles, he brings his hands up, turning slightly aside to plant his feet. Why? Well, she's got to move in sometime, and the second she's stepping in for the ol' one-two, his head is already moving. The jab glancing his face enough to look like it hurts, but the hook rushing over his head. Punch. Counter-punch. It's the way the fight has been going and it's the way it'll finish, with Barney letting his own right hook go against the leaning-forward Captain's face, then stepping forward with a left uppercut to the lower ribs, then stepping forward AGAIN to let a straight right go… well, right at her jaw.

As silent as a ghost, Damon slides a cigarette between his lips and lights it. Setting his bag on the bleacher in front of him, he unzips it and pulls out some tape. Bringing it to his teeth, he peels it open and begins the slow process of taping his hands for whatever card he draws for Fight Night. Head down at watch his work, he keeps to himself in a manner that is completely devoid of that desperation of wanting to be noticed.

Randy is quiet as well, just watching and folding her arms over her chest, lashes lowering and attention staying on the ring as s/he just watches. What else is she going to do?

MSGT reaches up and takes the cigar from his mouth with a heavy puff of smoke. He barks out, "Match to Volker!" The third point, it seems, has been tagged. He's a little slow to call it off — the ferocity in the ring brings a small grin to his face. It's gone quickly as he tucks the cigar back home between his teeth, then picks up the box, and draws another set of tags. He rattles around in there for a while before picking them out. "Step out and see a medic if you need one."

Dutch just shakes his head "And she ain't gonna fly no more." The Marine intones "Gory, gory what a helluvaway to die. Gory, gory what a helluva way to die…" Still the song is rolled out from the marine as a means of a taunt. Blood on the risers would be that lovely tune. All the same Dutch continues on if anything to give Volker something to walk right out of the ring with, when the victory should be called. A tap of his hand to his medkit-should it be needed, but for now he is focused solely on the ring, and its combatants.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is that. The punch to the ribs had Thea doubling - likely there's one bruised, at the very least. The hook catches her jaw where the last two did. That's two. But she doesn't go down until the straight right connects with her jaw. She had enough forward momentum and he had enough forward momentum that it was the rock meeting the hard place. Thea stumbles back a step or two and takes a knee for a second, not going completely down. At the MSGT's call, she pushes to her feet and offers Barnabas a hand, smiling dazedly through the blood. "Good match. Good win," she tells the Marine. And then she heads for the pilot side of the ring, unable to hear anything but the pretty birdies.

Kitty huffs a bit of a chuckle. "Thanks, sir," she mutters dryly to Kai while trying not to smile. "I appreciate the clarification." Shaking her head, she looks away, unable to watch Thea get herself nailed by the guy, the aftermath of the match not something she wants to see

"That was a great punch, didja see that, Sarge?" Jules asks of Dutch, nudging him lightly in the ribs as she watches the end of the fight. Glancing towards MSGT Nikos, she awaits the announcement of the next combatants with eagerness and a slight bounce in place.

Rising from the bench, Damon quietly heads toward the ring with quiet footsteps. Reaching to his neck, he unhooks one of the hexagonal dogtags from his neck and flicks it into the bowl with a singsong 'ping'. Trailing cigarette smoke as he walks, he nods to Master Sergeant Nikos as he turns on his heel to walk in the direction of the heavy bag. Looking his hands over, he steps up to it in preparation of the fight to get a few warm-up punches in. Dancing lightly on the balls of his feet, he delivers a two-punch combo to the bag, following it up with a side kick. Oh shit, son…the murderer kickboxes…

Randy idly makes her way towards where the bowl is to drop her tags in after a few minutes, keeping her eyes down and and her expression as blank as usual, this could be interesting.

Kai keeps his eyes on Thea as the match is concluded, and the combatants shake hands. She's still conscious and still standing, so there doesn't seem to be any cause for panic. Concern, though? Maybe a tetch. "Nice fight, Black Cat," he murmurs once the woman's stepped closer. She likely gets a whistle or two from the other pilots crowding around them; it was a close match, after all.

Volker gives a shake out of his arms when the match is called and Thea takes a knee. It's quite possible there was a hidden sigh of relief behind the actions, but he's sure trying not to call any attention to it. "Not bad, Captain. Thanks for not trying to knock out the teeth I've still got." The words are meant for comfort, but the tone might just be a little 'Because you couldn't if you wanted to' for a few people's liking. Apart from that, he's out and gone from the ring as if it might set him on fire if he stays in there too long, moving to find somewhere to watch the next fights.

Komnenos strides into the gym, fashionably late to the party. He's wearing offduty tanks, obviously prepared to fight as he tosses his dogtags into the box with a metallic rattle. With that, he turns around, threading in amongst the spectators, watching as one fight ends and waiting for the next to begin.

Master Sergeant Nikos holds up the tags in his hand, eagle eyes the names on the tags, and glances up. He says, teeth clenched on his cigar, "Cavalera and Cedris." He grins and fixes the MP with a look. It's a look that says 'kick his ass'. You'd almost think the MSGT were taking liberties this evening with the tag pairings. At least with this one.

Leda looks at Thea as she has a good match and he says, "Good match, Captain." He says as he takes a second to look over at the next match that is called, "Oh man, this ought to be a good match." He then takes a second to rub his chin, "Smart money is on Cavalera." He says, "Though Cedris is alright."

Thea drops into a seat near Kai, blinking owlishly. "Thank you," she says automatically, reaching up with a taped hand to gently prod at her jaw. Oh, yeah. The tape comes away bloody, but without any teeth. This is a good thing. "Do I get my candy now," she asks the CAG, voice low. A few braincells got rattled around.

Looking up from the bag, Damon blinks in the Master Sergeant's direction. Stepping quietly over to his bag, he pulls out his gloves and slides them over his taped hands. Looking around, he holds out the cigarette for someone to take before stepping into the ring. Rolling his shoulders and shaking his head, his tendrils of dreadlocked hair sway before her moves to the center of the ring. Extending his fist outwards to 'shake' before the match, not a single word escapes his lips. Watching Randy with those rather cold, thousand yard stare orbs that he likes to call eyes, there's no telling how this is going to go.

Salazar slides the towel from her shoulder, folds it up, and then gives it a toss toward where her duffle bag rests on the floor of the gym. Her eyes roam the combatants, and a smirk and she reaches over to take the cigarette Cavalera seems suddenly in need of disposing. It's tucked into the corner of her mouth, naturally. She's read Randy's file. She knows what's in store. "Peri." A shake of her head follows her moving up to stand next to the MSGT. Nikos and Nikos, a wall of marine facing the ring, smoking.

Kai remains standing, though does lean a hip into Thea's chair, in order that they can speak and be heard over the boisterous pilots. "Speaking of candy.." He reaches over with his cigarette-holding hand to touch her jaw lightly, inspecting the damage without poking or prodding at it. "..if you were trying to give me a jello facial, I'm happy to inform you that it didn't work."

Kitty looks over to Thea and offers the Captain a quick smile but then sits with Castor, once again paying attention to the ring. "See? It's like…male versus female." She snerks, obviously bemused. "Someone's cheating when it coms to pullig tags, Castor."

S/he hears her name and she looks up to give the master sergeant a chin-up, thumbing the side of her nose before making her way to the ring. She slips out of her sweatshirt and tosses it over a machine neatly, smoothing down her tanks and eyeing Damon quietly. She reaches out to shake the hand after a few moments though, ice blue eyes lowering as she slips into a defensive stance and lifts a shoulder, the gender neutral voice finally sounding, "G'luck."

Dutch just snickers as it seems that Calavera and Cedris are both respectfully drawn. Seems like Damon has his frakking hoops to jump through, and for that Dutch is not envious. A shake of his head, and a deep drag is taken as he watches Randy slide all into the ring. "Well this'll be something."

Thea turns her face toward Kai obediently and trustingly, as if they've been here before. Unfortunately, Kai makes a tactical error. He lets the cigarette get too close to her face. It gets plucked out of his fingers and she takes a long draw before replacing it where she found it. The smoke is held for a moment, then blown out slowly - away from him. Yes, she winces. Cigarettes and a split lip don't go well together. "Wanted to keep it safe," she tells Kai quietly, lips quirking slightly at one corner. "If I left it on your bunk, Leda would have swiped it. He's a jello-fiend." Clearly teasing, yes. She shares a grin with Leda and Kitty before looking up at Kai again.

Leda looks at Kitty for a moment, "I'm still not sure Cedris is a woman, I mean, could be a man…" He then says, "and if someone is cheating I don't want to be the one to shake the tree to find out who is setting up these matches." He then chuckles softly, "No but seriously, this could be two men throwing down in the ring?" He then looks at Thea, "You gave him hell, Cap." He then says, "Seriously, do you know what I can trade jello in for?" He didn't seem to be joking on that last bit.

Volker quietly watches the startings of the next fight, standing towards the edge of the room and well out of the way. The second his moment in the spotlight was over, he's wallflowering while checking out how far his jaw can still move before the pain in his cheekbone gets too much to hide. Looks like it shouldn't impede his speech any more that it already is.

Locking his eyes on to Randy's, Damon nods softly to her to let the fellow Marine know that he heard. Bouncing on his heels, he brings his gloves up in a fighting stance and starts the circling. Looking Randy over to judge for size and reach, he takes his time before moving in with the attack. Leading in with a pair of left jabs, he tests that distance in a feinting manner before coming forward with a right hook…aimed directly at Randy's temple.

Hobbies…weight lifting, making booze, and loving the fight and it shows really as Randy just sucks her front teeth and watches Damon like a hawk then she moves quickly, smoothly even bringing up her fore arm to block that right hook even as her other fist is swinging for the man's jaw. It is a reflex really.

Tsk! Bad Thea. Kai's a little slow on the uptake tonight, and doesn't manage to snatch the cigarette back in time. He does however learn from his mistakes; once it's passed back, he tucks it between his lips instead, and reaches for the towel that one of the pilots is nudging him with. It's clean, and it's beed dabbed with a bit of water from someone's bottle. Crouching, he begins cleaning (gently) a little of the blood from Thea's face, working around her split lip. "I was just giving you a hard time," he murmurs. "I appreciate it. Completely forgot I had it." To Castor, "My eternal and undying adoration," in about as dry a voice as he can possibly muster.

Kitty scoffs a bit and then shakes her head, not really able to tell herself. "Yeah, well, to be honest, I am staying the hell away from as many trees as I frakking can." She's the kind of person who tries not to hit too many hornet nests as possible, those she does choose to hit being battles she tries to choose in a wise manner.

Randy's glove lands squarely against Damon's jaw, forcing his head to the side. Dreadlocks swaying when the wet, packing sound erupts with the hit, Damon quickly keeps himself in the fight. Keeping his elbows up, he decides that Randy isn't much shorter than him, but he probably weighs much more than his opponent. Keeping his head down and his eyes on the fight, the ex-convict doesn't back down. Soundless, except for the well-practiced breathing that he learned from his glory days, Damon presses in close for the attack. Bringing his right in for another jab to Randy's temple, he presses forward to take this one closer to the ropes. The jab is followed up with a punishing combo directed towards Rags' midsection. This is the 'keep em flustered' tactic.

Thea holds still while Kai dabs at her face, her lips quirked upward at one corner. She looks a little bit like a child getting mopped up after a tumble on the playground. One eye is on the ring, the rest of her attention is on the pilots and Kai. "Next time," she murmurs. "Please remind me how much getting in the ring hurts?" Though, she's not complaining -overly- much. "He adores jello," Thea asides to Castor. "Get Spider jello and you can name your price." She cuts her eyes back to Kai for a moment, just studying him. "Stitches or it just feels like stitches?"

Leda looks at the ring, "Yup, smart money stays on Calavera." He then turns to Kai, "Well, if that is all it takes sir. I'll make sure to scrounge up some jello for you, sir." He then says, "Any particular flavor," He then blinks as he watches Randy and Damon go at it, "Frak, they are good." He then looks over at Kitty, "Aw, Kitters, relax the best way to avoid fights here is to…well…nothing. People fight here. In the mess, mail room, laundry room, gym…I haven't heard of any brawls in the CIC though." He then looks over at Thea and winks before he turns back to Kai, "Sir, suppose I can get you jello, any chance I can get an old shirt of yours?"

Barnabas takes a little time to focus less on the fight and more on the people watching. Well, it has been a while since he's seen quite a lot of them. He waers a few different facial expressions from person to person, and he does the entire thing with his arms crosses over his chest. It's not all that long before he's taken in what there is to see, noted a few differences, and come to a pretty quick conclusion that has him heading towards the box to reclaim his tags in preperation to head out.

Randy's jaw sets the closer Damon gets, she can't help it, doubling over some and taking her hits with soft grunts. She exhales with the practice of somebody used to getting hit and she backs up towards the ropes though, twisting around reflexively to slam a knee up towards the man's more sensitive parts, fist slamming up towards his midsection at the same time. So she fights dirty…who's really surprised.

Dutch is still watching the fight with mild interest before he is looking back towards Sunshine who is still over by him, unless Dutch here has gone stupid and she's off and flitted somewhere's else. A slight rub of his nose, before he's looking down. "So…" a slight look back to the machine gunner. "May I ask you a question, Sunshine?"

"I gave up on med school sixteen years ago for a reason, Thea," Kai explains softly, dabbing at the redhead's cheek a couple more times. "I don't think it needs stitches. Though I want you to check yourself into sickbay tonight, just to be sure." It's an 'order', inasmuch as he has authority to give one. "No, Leda," is his succinct answer where the shirt's concerned. He has the good grace to look mildly amused by it, though.

Jules is watching the fight in the same manner as Dutch, kinda quiet, but with interest. She lifts her chin, not quite looking over at the man and says, "You can ask me anything, Sarge."

MSGT eyes the match as the two square off. His eyes never leave the two, he smokes. He watches. Smokes. Hm. He chews on the end of his stogie as the fight progresses.

Sparro wanders into the gym with a bit of a smile on his face, dogtags still securely around his neck. He hasn't been to a dance in years.

Thea wrinkles her nose at Kai then laughs quietly. "I plan on it," she tells him quietly, though she looks as though, briefly, she'd like to push him over on his ass. After a moment she reaches up for the cloth to take it, giving Kai one of those speaking looks before settling back. "I'll head that way after this match, actually. Dare I ask, Tinleg?" She catches sight of Barnabas and lifts a hand, offering him a crooked grin.

Damon's been in enough street fights that when he sees her twist, he expects where it's going. Bringing his palm down suddenly to connect with her knee, he blocks the attack aimed at his sensitive groin. Instead of getting mad, however, he takes the advantage of Randy being on one leg to try to force her off balance. Twisting at the hip, he sends his own knee towards her exposed outer thigh, connecting solidly. Backing up with a jab to her face, he gives her a moment to regain her balance and face him on an even field. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he waits till she's far enough from the ropes to come back in with a left jab, right uppercut, left cross combo to keep her guessing. Breathing out with the attacks to give them some of his life energy, the two enter the back-and-forth game of traded blows.

"Castor, I don't want to fight," she near whines, Kitty sounding like a put upon child. "Can we just find a corner of the ship to sit in and watch as the others frak each other up?" Not a pacifist by any means, Katherine isn't against things like wars and that as long as they make sense and sparring matches and events like this one but senseless brawling? Maybe she's dellusional but yeah, she's convinced herself that she can and will keep from getting into fistacuffs with someone. It's just a matter of how long she can keep that up.

"Careful, Kitters, keep this up and you might get the callsign, Crybaby." He then looks over at Thea and says with another wink, "What do you think, Crybaby?" He then takes a moment to address the question, "Long story, Cap, I sort of need Papabear's shirt for this thing." He then looks at the match and gives out a loud, "Daaaaaaamn." He then looks back at Kai, "What if it was two things of jello? I can even have holes in it."

Dutch nods slightly back towards Jules. "Right then." A cough, probably due to taking a lungful of smoke down the wrong way, but its eased out after a moment. "How the frak do you do it?" meaning the optimism and all that junk. "Cause I don't see the need of it, or where the hell you can find it."

Sucffle. Rummage. "Nya-ha!" It only takes Barnabas two wrong tags before he actually finds his own, giving the briefest of looks towards the ring. Yeah, the wince that follows means he's probably not going to look at it again. It hurts the cheek. Re-fastening the chain around his neck, he tucks the metal slips under his shirt and departs the hatch without much fanfare. Although, there's probably a someone medically inclined out there who now smells prey. He's like blood in the water.

Salazar drains her bottle of water, and tosses the empty in the direction of her duffle and sweater. It almost tags a Private on the way, then bounces off of the bag, and rolls a couple of feet. She turns her eyes back to the ring, reaching up to take the cig from her lips. She glances over at Castor. And she fixes him with those dark eyes.

Randy ducks a shoulder, grunting once more as she takes a few hits and sways, regaining her balance and throwing herself into the jab and uppercuts the combos, taking the hits for some reason even as she's twisting around to slam an elbow towards his sternum and using the momentum to slam a fist back towards his jawline once more. She's using speed more than anything else as she takes deep breaths.

After a hard look around, Sparro shakes his head. This sort of thing was really a younger persons game. Besides… with everyone here, the Sims were probably open…

"Good," murmurs the CAG beneath his breath, offhanded commentary while he gives the corner of Thea's mouth a gentle swipe with the damp towel. He doesn't have the most delicate hands, but he gets the job done, and pushes to his feet shortly after. Castor's follow-up just gets… a look from the man. "Stop right there." He lifts his cigarette-toting hand. "I don't want to know." He spares a brief glance for the fight in progress, before lobbing the towel into a nearby bin.

The action in the ring quickly upgrade into a test of wills. Damon grunts as Randy's elbow connects solidly into his sternum, forcing him to take a step back. One, two, and three punches crash into him as he stutter steps away from the onslaught. Suddenly planting his feet, however, he returns with a devastating series of matched punches towards her face and her body. The slapping sounds of glove connections echoing through the room, Damon matches Randy's attacks toe-to-toe. Eyes remaining calm and serene as he focuses on his breathing, Damon finishes his assault with a sudden shifting of his weight, sending the contact point of his foot towards the side of Randy's stomach. The very same move he was practicing before the fight.

Thea just shakes her head at Kai, sighing softly, then pushes to her feet. "I think I'm going to head down to Sickbay then back to bunks," she comments quietly. "Thank you for the cheering section, folks. I promise to return the favor next time." Yes, she's smiling. And there's a flash of silver as that coin comes out again, sliding between her fingers. "I hope one of you takes down a Marine." There's a pause as she studies Kitty. "Crybaby works. Make it so," she comments. Then she's gone.

Randy is trained, yes, but the sheer mass of her opponent does pay off at the end as she takes hits and blocks other hits and just grunts and twists around when that foot hits her stomach, abs tightening as she exhales and coughs softly. Then she takes a few steps back and holds up a glove a bit, nodding and then nodding again.

It is with a hint of grudging approval that the MSGT bellows, "Match to Cavalera!" If he's surprised that the ex-con won the match against the tall MP, it doesn't show in his face. He digs around in the tag box again.

"I'm powered by kittens." Jules gives Dutch a good direct look in the eyes now, a smile crinkling up one corner of her mouth. "And love. I mean, it's not like I don't get down sometimes. I just don't let it bother me. By the time you notice the bad, life is on an upswing anyway. So say the Sacred Scrolls. The whole cycle of time thing. 'All of this has happened before and all of this will happen again.'" She reaches out and punches playfully at the Marine's shoulder.

When the hand goes up, Damon stops as if an off switch was pressed on him. With a serious amount of restraint, Damon lowers his gloves and steps over to Randy. "You allright?" He asks, lifting his chin in her direction. Looking to her stomach, he furrows his brow and motions for her to follow him to the ropes. Stepping on the bottom rope, he pulls up on the top one, making it easier for Randy to get out of the ring. It's a show of respect. Not once does he look at the crowd, not even his drill instructor.

Leda smirks, "Then get out there and fight Kitters." He then looks at Kai for a moment and then he catches Salazar's look and a new plan begins to formulate. He then says, "Alright, I'm letting it drop, sir." He then laughs and half sings, "Crybaby, cry, make your mama sigh…"

Randy nods firmly to Damon, tugging off her gloves as she coughs again and slips out of the ring, eyeing her opponent thoughtfully. "You'll spot and spar me twice a week or so?" She finally asks with a grunt and shrug of her shoulders.

Master Sergeant Nikos pauses, and sort of glances at the tags before he calls out, with a voice a bit more gruff than usual. As if, perhaps, he is fighting a smirk. "Marek and Nikos. Captain. Ensign." A large puff of fragrant smoke obscures his face in a screen of white for just a moment.

There is a blink and then Castor's given such the nasty look, the fact that Thea agreed with him making it all the worse as she's quick to blurt out, "See if I ever give you a mercy frakking, Castor Leda." Standing up, she looks away, grousing darkly under her breath. Instead of leaving the gym entirely she simply puts some distance between them before sitting back down, no longer looking at the pilot in what she hopes is coming across as being a pointed manner.

Leda looks over at Kitty and he stops teasingm "Aww, come on Kitty I was just teasing." He then says, "Besides, only Captain Legacy or Papabear can give you a callsign and make it offical." He then says, "So, don't get mad." He looks at Kai, "My mouth went running again didn't it, sir?" He frowns for a moment. "Damn it."

"Sure," Kai answers Legacy with a fleeting little smile. The coin catches his eye briefly, and the woman receives a curt nod as she turns to go. Hey, Kitty's her pilot, he doesn't see any need to interfere. And then his name's being called, along with.. oh. Cute. "Nikos." He looks across to the woman for a few moments, then drops his cigarette and grinds it out. Off comes his fatigue jacket, and he heads for the ring amidst a few whoops from the pilot section.

Kai slaps Castor across the back of his shoulder on the way up, and gives him a little 'chin up' sort of wink.

"Sounds like a plan." Damon replies to Randy, stepping out of the ring. Pulling off his gloves, he pats her on the shoulder as if to let her know it was a good fight. Keeping it rather impersonal aside from that, he looks towards the bowl and blinks. A small, quiet smirk forms at the side of his lip. He hides it with his dreadlocks. "My money's on the Captain." He says flatly. This is funny, because he knows just how much it's going to get under Salazar's skin. Kai's probably going to get a bone broken.

Randy just rolls her eyes a bit, tensing a bit at the pat on her shoulder and just eyeing Damon thoughtfully before turning back to where she's going to get a towel and put away her gloves.

"Powered by kittens. The frak you say." Dutch almost sounds as if he came across some damned like new fangled medical or scientific theory. However, that is not the case. Instead the Sergeant just laughs as he shakes his head. The punch hits a small tender spot- before h e's looking back at Jules. "Gods damn. I like you Ozymandias."

Leda looks at this, holy crap, this is like the freaking clash of the Titans. As he is slapped on the back he puts his chin up and he quiets down because no one wants to see their heroes fight.

Salazar's gaze flicks off of Leda to the Master Sergeant. Her lips go very still on that cigarette for a moment, and then she takes a long drag. Maybe she's trying to finish it off before Damon comes looking for it. She flicks what's left of the cigarette at Damon's chest. "Marek." She heads for the ring, already wearing wraps. She skips gloves. These aren't the sort of wraps you glove over.

Kai has a pair of gloves tossed to him by one of his squadmates, and busies himself tugging them on, then fastening the wrist straps as he ducks into the ring. "Let's keep this quick and dirty," he quips drily. Telling a Nikos to keep it clean is kind of pointless, so he doesn't even bother. His shoulders are rolled as he drops a pace or two back; he's bigger, stronger, but also older than the marine, and probably considerably less spry.

Looking down to the cigarette that bounces off of his chest, Damon recognizes that it's still his and has a few drags left. Following the ten-second rule, he picks it back up and slides it between his lips. Then he does try to make eye contact with someone: Dutch. Walking past the medic, he bounces the forearm of his glove off of Dutch's arm and issues him an upwards nod. It's a hello, but more importantly it's another strange sign of respect in a room full of people he's not really trying to look at. Not waiting for a reply, he continues to slowly step towards the bleachers, pulling his gloves off as he goes.

Salazar is still a little sweaty from her bout with the bag. She shakes her head slightly as the Captain steps into the ring and gets quippy. "If you think your reflexes are up to it." She flexes her fingers briefly, checking the wraps, and then she drops into a ready, wary stance, weight on the balls of her feet. The marine's eyes stay on the CAG. "Let's go, old man."

"I like you too, Sarge. For lots of reasons. But mostly because you just keep -going-." Jules' smile is sincere as she adds, "How many bullets the Cylons put in you and you're still mobile. Still kicking ass." Tossing her hair, she looks into the ring again, blinking twice rapidly. "You two play nice!"

Damon's lucky in the fact, that unlike half the other marines who seem to be afraid of him killing them in their sleep, Dutch actually vouched for the bugger. So the touch is noted as is the nod up, which earns a usual sour look from the marine, before he is raising his head back up in response. Respect bra. Kill the man and all that shit. "Nice dancin' Calvera." called to the other before he's looking back towards Jules.

"Well thanks Jules, frakkin' warms the cockles of my heart."

Kitty almost goes as far as to cover her ears and start singing in an attempt to drown out Castor's voice, the last snatch of conversation having done well to strip her of almost all forms of maturity. But just because she doesn't plug her ears doesn't mean the pilot's listened to. Nope. Fight's about to start and she wants to watch this one.

It might be the 'old man' that did it. Or it might just be that Kai likes cutting to the chase. But Salazar barely has time to get those last four words out of her mouth, before the CAG's coming in fast with a jab, jab, hard hook combo. The first two strikes are aimed at the marine's abdomen; the last, for her ribs. He may not be quick, but he hits like a freight train.

Hee hee. Jules can't help but giggle in Dutch's direction, even with Damon's intimidating presence coming into range. "Sarge. Cockles?"

Leda just watches, seriously, the grown ups are going to fight and he really doesn't want to see Papabear go down like a little bitch which would be you know, un Papabear like, seeing as how Kai eats coal for breakfast and craps out diamonds, well not really but still. He then looks over at Salazar because let's face it the S2 is scary, hot, but scary. He just sits there quietly since this has left him speechless.

Randy makes her way towards where Kitty is, settling down after tossing a towel around her neck and she eyes the fight about to start with a soft hmmm. She offers Kitty a chin-up and just lowers her lashes and watching the fight.

"Thanks Sarge…" Damon says slowly, his voice like chocolate poured over sandpaper. Not looking back, he pulls out some scissors and cuts through the tape, lowering himself onto the bench to clean up. He looks up towards Randy, brandishing a pack of cigarettes. "Cedris." He shakes the pack of cigarettes, offering to toss them towards the fellow Marine.

Like a pale, freckle-skinned fly on the wall, Wil dips on through the hatch and edges his way into the gym. He's walking like someone who doesn't have any particular sort of destination other than to watch a bunch of servicemen and women beat each others' asses. He edges along a short distance from the ring, heading towards the bleachers.

Yes, yes he does. Salazar's arm comes up to block the first blow, sending it glancing off of her arm as she turns into the jab. The second lands more solidly, but the third hits hard enough to leave a bruise as the pilot advances hard on the marine. She returns a jab with the third, bodies in close. A grunt from the force of a punch thrown as she takes one from Kai speaks of the effort behind it. Her relatively moderate hit takes him in the shoulder as she steps in further, bringing them dangerously close. A hard twist of her body brings her elbow up to his jaw, one foot dropping flat against the mat for a moment. There's one thing for sure. The two soldiers in the ring are not shy about leaving marks. And possibly bruising organs.

The elbow to the jaw makes an audible *crack* on contact, followed by a soft grunt from the pilot as his head snaps back. This definitely isn't theatrical wrestling. Rather than waste any time letting Salazar gain the advantage, Kai shoves his weight back in with a vicious cross to the marine's solar plexus. If that fails to hit, a hook to her jaw follows— and then the fist comes back in a nasty rake of knuckles across the other jaw. Thump, smack, smack.

"Its like Barnacles…But..harder." that is all Dutch offers back towards Jules, before he's moving to knock a knuckle against her leg. "Don't worry about it.." Taurons and their sayings. All the same, eyes are now back to the fight in question. "Hope she knocks his ass out." Nothing against Kai, but they need to keep up their streak tonight.

Randy holds up a hand to show she's prepared to take the pack of cigarettes, but she's watching that fight with a hint of too much interest towards somebody's backside and she grunts before just gesturing towards Salazar as she fights and just nodding slowly to herself.

Castor can't stand the preasure and then when Papabear gets hit like that. He the shouts, "SHOW HER WHO THE BOSS IS!" He then sits down and goes back into his quiet place because this doesn't bode well for Kai.

The gods made the world by dropping a pebble into the sea. Damon made Kai get his ass kicked by dropping a pebble on Salazar. Looking to the ring, Damon watches the fight for a second before he sends the pack of cigarettes flying in Randy's direction. Inside of the pack is a small cigarette lighter. Eyes back to his bag, he pulls out his duty-issue canteen and pops it open for a drink.

Salazar backs off a little shaking out her arm a little before she dances back to grin at the CAG. "Ouch." The tone is dry. The movement just barely takes her out of the running for a breath stealing tag to the solar plexus. She isn't fast enough to avoid the crack to the jaw. Her head snaps to the side, staggering her a little. She doesn't even have time to shake her head before the fist meets face again. That's fair. She started it. Her head whips to the side again, the knot keeping her hair out of her eyes loosens a little. The S2 grins, the corner of her mouth bloodied. There is no hesitation in her advance, and the marine treats Karim to a combination that brings her body steadily closer. Left, left, right, left hook. She undoubtedly eats at least one punch to the body before she's close enough to drop a shoulder with a grunt of air, tipping down a little in on herself before an uppercut is headed for the Pixie Prince's jaw.

"Have you been paying attention, Tin?" Wil says, mildly in Castor's direction with a faint smirk as he strolls along and settles up to the bleachers. He edges closer to the man, just to be on the safe side. "I dunno. I have a feeling the 'boss' issue isn't up for question." Something's got him faintly amused, and he snickers to himself, a crooked half-grin on his lips that just remains. Looking around, his head scans a bit. Marines, marines, marines. Oh, it's Sgt. Elder. A -look- of pure recognition crosses Wil's face. He's seen the Fist of Dutch before. His gaze settles on Damon for a bit. His very look bespeaks curiousity. Not hostility or alarm, it's pretty much how he was looking at the man when he talked to him in the brig.

Leda blinks and looks over at Wil, "Shhhhh, you'll jinx it, Papabear will come back." He then takes another breath, "I hope." He then continues watching the match quietly. He does wince though as he watches the match, "Holy frakking crap."

For an airy fairy, Marek sure likes his brawls hard and gritty. He's not afraid of a little blood, be it hers or his. The grin prompts a twitch of his own lips, though it's not quite a smile; his eyes are on the way her body moves, the set of her shoulders and the placement of her feet, rather than Salazar's own face. And when she comes at him again, for each hit that lands, there's another that's deflected with a roll of his shoulders or swipe of his palm. When she leaves him an opening, he capitalises on it. When he's too slow, her agility punishes him. It's a gutshot that leaves him open for the uppercut, and his head snaps back again when her knuckles connect. He staggers to the side, squeezes his eyes shut a moment to clear the pounding in his head, then grabs for her tank tops and attempts to drive his fist — hard — into her stomach.

Randy's jaw drops a bit before just mmhming softly to herself, pulling out a cig and tucking it behind an ear and tossing the pack back towards Damon. She's watching that fight though and then…she speaks, which is rare, "Daaaaaaaayyyyyuuuuuuuuum…"

Even with Wil's smartass attitude about Salazar wearing the metaphorical pants in whatever reserved relationship she and Kai have, even he can't help wincing at the beat-down-train rolling into Kai-town. He grits his teeth. "Frak -me-." He mutters, watching the slaughter unfold as it reaches its bloody climax.

Kitty winces and covers her eyes, this being too intense for her. It's even enough to cause her to go back and sit with Castor eventhough she's still kind of pissed off at him.

"Now that." Dutch says with a motion towards the ring. "Is how you hit a bitch." A shake of his head as he whistles, given the Ensign's moves. "Frakking A-men there S2!" shouted out right on back towards Salazar. Nothing like seeing someone get the tar knocked out of them. Dutch should know, he's tattoo'd pilots faces for months now.

Leda covers his eyes he can't take it, he is watching his hero get beaten like a little bitch as Kitty takes a seat he says, "Pinch me, this is a bad dream right?" Thus giving her the opportunity to give him a good solid pinch if she is really pissed at him.

Oof. The S2 doubles over when the hit connects with her abdomen. A rush of air escapes her lungs, but she does manage to suck in a breath a moment later. The hands on contact barrier has officially been broken. There's a pop of a couple of stitches from her clothing as the tanks are stretched by the pull and punch. "Augh!" It's a loud expulsion of air after she sucks in an audibly sharp breath that brings her body up. One hand grabs Karim's tanks, the other arm wrapping around his shoulder. She pulls a knee into his gut, using his body for leverage to deliver a return to his gut. But that isn't all. The street brawler in the marine comes out once she's up close and personal, and there's a good hurt put on her. Still grabbed on, however hard the knee connects, she throws the pilot back, and follows him down to the floor as one foot hides behind his leg, and she sweep throws. You're technically not supposed to go down with your opponent on that move. About a buck fifty in female marine slamming into his body should put a smile on the CAG's face. Right. Right?

Salazar slows down a little after that last exchange. A little winded? Yeah. She's still trying to get a good breath in. It's not so much working.

Damon looks up at the fight again to see Kai reaching for Salazar's tanktops. With a look of quiet disapproval, he decides to keep his attention focused on the ring. After all, there could be a wardrobe malfunction and after dealing with Master Sergeant Nikos' boot camp all week (noteably after almost getting executed), this is the kind of entertainment a brother wants. Eyebrows lifting, he pulls the last of his tape off and leans back on the bleachers so that the bench behind him connects softly against the square of his shoulders. Arms extended in a pose of leisure, he continues to eyeball the mini-battle on stage.

Master Sergeant just watches with that stogie in his mouth. By the rules, he should have called the fight by now. By rules, he really should have. And yet he's a little slow on the draw, again. Maybe he just likes seeing people beat the shit out of each other. It's a pretty good bet, judging from the grin on his face. Yep, but it's gone by the time he finally bellows. "Nikos." The tone remains neutral. The man is a professional. He's already digging for new tags, but he does keeps his eyes on the ring to see if the combatants actually separate.

Willem has partially disconnected.

Leda looks up at the match and he shouts, "Come on Captain, sock her in the frakking jaw." He then winces, "You can do it." He simply refuses to believe that Papabear would go down like this since Leda is pretty sure that Kai could train a rattlesnake to iorn his laundry or that he can kill five Raiders with a Viper that has two bad engines and no ammo. Seriously, this has to be a fluke, maybe he is throwing the match since he might get in trouble on the homefront, yeah, that must be it. "Come on, one good pop in the mouth." It would seem that if anything Leda is a loyal one though he doesn't like seeing his hero getting tossed around, "Good strategy, sir." He says without really indicating what the strategy is.

Salazar's speed and mobility eventually begin to prove too much for the bigger pilot. While he may be able to pack a punch, he also needs to avoid getting walloped by the S2's sneakier tactics. Having knocked the wind out of her, Kai goes for a vicious hook to the jaw that should, by all rights, end it— except that he's shoved off balance by Salazar grabbing for his tanks, and his instinct is to clutch at her shoulders instead, to keep from going over. Which is when she opportunes herself of a knee to his stomach. OW. He stumbles once, stumbles twice, and goes down hard, dragging the not so hapless marine with him. At least he knows when the fight's over; instead of swinging at her again, he slaps his hands to the floor and jerks his head away, struggling to catch his own breath. Oh, and he's bleeding, too.

There's a bit of a shrug on Wil's part as he just watches the rest of the beatdown unfold and steps further back into the bleachers, lips pursed.

Salazar's body stills for a moment at her cousin's bark. But that probably has to do with having the wind knocked out of her again. In live combat, there would probably be a knife in play by now. Then again, in live combat, the CAG would have his gun.

The S2 takes a moment to slide her body off of the pilot's, and she gets to her knees only after wiping her bloody lip on the pilot's shirt. He's the closest thing, he gets the honors. Blood thusly traded, one hand still on the floor, the marine is slow to straighten. Some of those hits to the torso seriously connected. Heavy breathing, she reaches down to offer the CAG an arm up to a sitting position. It's questionable whether they're both ready to get up as yet.

Randy scratches her head and adjusts her towel around her neck and squints at the fight situation after a few moments and then grumbles. "Why can't I ever find me a chick like that…" She runs her fingers through her hair, watching and waiting to make sure things aren't going to go crazy just yet.

MSGT raises a brow as the two officers in the ring are so slow to get the frak out of the way. "Clear the ring, you lazy fraks!" He shoves the stogie into the other corner of his mouth, then bellows, "Elder. Ajtai. Hit it."

Leda looks over at Kitty, "Alright, Elder kind of beats us up and slams us down, it is a sort of right of passage to get knocked out by him." He then says, "Keep your guard up, don't throw any wild punches, and nothing below the belt, I made that mistake once."

With he name called she looks up, her eyes going wide. "Damnit." She looks around before she gets up to head to the ring, pausing only for as long as it takes her to get geared up. Castor's advice is caught and she nods to him quickly to show him that she has heard him but there's nothing said.

"They come with a price." Damon says quietly in response to Randy, nodding directly towards Kai. Kai just got beat up by that girl she can't seem to find. Rising, he takes another sip from his canteen and heads towards Randy to get his cigarettes back from her. Listening to Leda and Kitty, he turns his attention to Dutch. Blank expression follows. A marine versus a Naval girl. Bad tidings indeed.

Yeah, Kai'll just be.. a minute here. Once Salazar's availed herself of his shirt — without so much as a please or thank you — and hauled herself off him, he twists around and regains his feet slowly. He's favouring his left leg a little, as usual. "Good match, Nikos," he grunts softly. They aren't empty words; the praise is genuine. She bested him, fair and square. He ducks his head as he moves out of the ring, and heads immediately for the tin where the tags are kept.

And there it goes. Cue a few marines calling out for Dutch, as the marine straps on his gloves. He's nice right there, as opposed to bare knuckling it. A roll of his shoulders as his mouthguard is slid in and then its on up towards the ring. He's got a date to keep and he will not keep the poor kid waiting. A pull of the ropes, and he is up an in without much more further ado. "Bout time." a lick of his teeth, an with that the marine awaits. For what? For Prey.

There's a little shake of Wil's head. His tags are still on his neck. What a pussy. He winces as the ECO and Dutch 'The Wrecker' Elder head on up. In the meantime, he turns to check on the CAG's condition with an idle glance of his head.

Salazar licks her lip briefly and nods to Kai. She gets to her feet as well, one hand slipping under her tanks and tees to walk her fingers over her ribs, just in case. Thusly self-checked, she steps out of the ring before slapping MSGT's shoulder on her way past. "I'll remember that, Peri." That kind of sounded like a threat. She snags up her tags from the box, then glances briefly over at Karim before she heads over toward her stuff by the bag yonder.

There's a slow sigh on Wil's part as he looks up at the the bin with the tags. His nose twitches a little bit as the very thought of pugilism crosses his mind. Well, damn. Somebody hasn't learned a thing at all.

Kai looks none the worse for wear. Well, ok. He looks a bit battered and bruised, but for someone who spends time around a girl like Nikos, do you really think this isn't something he's accustomed to? His tags are slung over his head and adjusted with a muffled jingling, and a trickle of oozing blood wiped off his cheek with the back of his hand. Classy stuff. "Good kid, Rebound," he offers the pilot in a low murmur as he passes by him. At least he refrains from touching him. There's a glance toward Salazar in return, and then he fetches his fatigue jacket and heads for the hatch. Probably to clean his face up. And just maybe to hurl.

Samantha steps in. better late that never. She might not get a chance to actually fight, but she sure as hell could use the opportunity. So she heads over to the pile of tags, pulling hers off from her throat and tossing them in mutely before she looks for somewhere rather quiet to sit. Not in a big crowd… She finds a corner of a bench.

"Uh. Good moves, sir." Wil notes with a bit of belated good humor as he catches Kai stillin something resembling working order. Of course, he looks at Salazar shortly thereafter. "You'll be all right?" Even as he asks this, he starts to work on taping up his hands.

Randy grimaces towards Damon and thumbs the side of her nose. "Yeah, but if you're willin' to pay…Iunno man." She sighs and tilts her head back attention caught by Samantha as she enters, following her with her eyes before looking back to Damon and then the ring.

"That was just foreplay, kid," Salazar replies, to the pilot who's silly enough to ask her if she'd going to be ok. Tee hee. Marines. She bends to grab up her stuff, and slings her togtags on over her head, leaving them to drop crookedly on her chest.

"Kitters, stay focused and remember our sparring match the other day, stick with that and you will do just fine." He then shouts, "And don't throw any elbows, that only pisses him off." He then looks over at Kai and nods as his eyes go to the hatch and then he spots Sam and he smiles, "Hey you?" He looks over at Willem, "You two are throwing in?" He smiles, "Well, maybe one of us can take a marine out tonight."

Kai ducks out shortly thereafter. Of good moves and foreplay, he does not comment.

Heading back to his bench, Damon sits downa nd turns his head to watch Samantha move. Catching the obvious body language of someone who's up for no bullshit. He stops to pull a cigarette from the pack and lights it. "True…" He says in reply to Randy, dragging from the cigarette and exhaling the smoke skyward. "…spar with her sometime. Seems she knows her shit."

Kitty looks up at Dutch once he enters the ring and for a brief moment she finds herself suddenly religious, the ECO praying to the gods that they'll keep her alive. No, no praying for winning as that's pretty much out of the picture. The Marine's given a curt nod as she waits for this dog and pony show to get started.

Randy just sighs and gives Damon a /look/. "I know you're smoking but you can't be high." S/he squints. "I'm content to watch, watching is fine and dandy." She drawls before attention drifts back to ring, she leans forward a bit, resting elbows on knees.

"Eh. Maybe. I just call it 'taking one for the team.'" Wil says towards Castor in a faint voice that sounds like the words of a faux-downer. He snorts and just watches Kai bail, and then turns to Salazar, bemused as he shakes his head. This done, he walks over towards Samantha and rather pointedly nudges her in the shoulder. "Hey."

Samantha looks up to Willem, giving him a half smile, but she seems genuinely happy to see the man at least. She nudges his shoulder back half heartedly. "Hey." She offers, remaining settled on her corner of the bench, toying with a cigarette out of a half a pack she must have picked up from somewhere.

Dutch raises his gloves as soon as the Match is called to begin. However he's not dancing about like a piece of space bait, nor is he doing any lunging assed moves. Rather Dutch just keeps both fists up as he stalks towards his opponent. Watching to see how they move, before he's readying a low few jabs, trying to get the pilot to focus in on her Midsection so as to free up that lovely face of hers. Why? Because as soon as those gloves go down into a protective mode, that mean left hook of his will be screaming for her jaw. Methodical? Yes.

There has been enough sparring matches with her brother Pandorian for her to know to keep herself tucked into as compact of a target as possible, Kitty not wanting to give Dutch any openings if at possible. A couple of the jabs land and yeah, they don't feel too good but she's keeping her elbows close to her gut while twisting from the hip at the same time. Frowning, she finally starts to mix a bit of the offensive along with the defensive, this a nice little roundhouse aimed right for the guy's face.

"Doing allright?" Wil inclines his head, occasionally shifting his gaze between Sam and the ring, just to watch the carnage unfold with narrowed eyes. He taps his foot a little bit, lips pursed. He gives Case a bit of a grin that came out of left field. Of course, it's tentative.

"No, I'm not high." Damon replies, lip tugging to the side in a smirk. "Sometimes, a good way of settin' yourself up to become stronger is to find the biggest person in the room and pick a fight. Tonight's a good time for that." Damon says quietly.

Samantha considers that quietly as she slips a filter between her lips, cigarette only slightly bent, and draws and old white lighter out from her pocket to strike it up. She nods towards Wil. "Yeah… think so. Rather tired of all this bullshit but… did it to myself so can't complain. You?" She inquires of the man at her side, keeping her quiet smile on her lips, just for him.

Salazar pulls her sweatshirt around her waist and ties the arms. She slings her duffle bag over her shoulder, breathing out a short breath as it pings a forming bruise. She sneaks out with a slight smirk on her lips, but the gait suggests she might be feeling that fight a little more than she lets on. Ice pack!

"Not looking to get stronger, just less lonely man." Randy drawls softly in her conversation with Damon, watching the fight and swearing softly with a quirk of an eyebrow. "But it makes me love my job even more….dayum…"

Leda says, "Kitty, throw down and knock him the hell out." He then looks over at Wil, "Well, way to take one for the team then." He then looks over at Sam, "Sam, you okay?" He says in soft tones since this is his friend after all and he doesn't want to see her hurt even though he has a pretty good feeling she is hurt.

"No value judgements from me, I guess." Wil says, holding to a careful, diplomatic neutrality as he chatters along. "I'm in a weird position of basically liking everyone involved. Including your confused ass." That's probably the harshest thing he's said to her and it's still delivered like something of a good-natured joke. "So, if it's like you say, you did it to yourself? You can undo it. At least you've got choices to make." Wow. He seems, optimistic. "Me? I'm, uh. Good." He smirks a small, but definite smirk as his attention moves towards the fight once again with narrowed eyes.

The big guy's just not letting her get anywhere, the punches failing to connect. She's getting frustrted as she isn't getting anywhere and soon she makes the one mistake she's been trying to keep from making, the target Dutch has been waiting for wide open once Kitty's hands move.

Damon chuckles quietly, watching Dutch and Kitty. Deciding to sit near Randy, he leans back and enjoys his cigarette while he's allowed. "It's not a bad job to have in these times." He says in a sideways manner, nodding his head softly. Introverted, he's a street mystic with a cigarette between his fingers. "Damon Cavalera. Transitioning through bootcamp."

Samantha looks over to Leda as she hears her name called and she just nods slowly. "Yeah, fine." She states to the younger man, that the rote response these days. The safe one. Will earns himself a good smirk even if her eyes are all for the fight happening in the ring. She's not her usual vocal, screaming, cheering self, sadly. "I think Martin made the choice. Over and done… just… ain't certain I wanna jump in or deal with anything else right now."

The kick lands with a good hit, not exactly, where Kitty was expecting it too, but she does get a piece of him, as he rocks in with that punch. Still it seems Dutch is just getting warmed up fists back up as he moves. Already he's testing the air with a few punches in Kitty's direction to keep her guessing. Maybe she'll make that mistake he's looking for. And when that opening comes. Someone is taking it. Its a nice one two combination. Where as Dutch doesn't kick or knee, he does punch like a truck. the first jab is aimed for her chin, just to get her to turn her head Just so, and then comes the right on the follow up, aimed right for the temple of the poor girl's head.

There will be two sounds. Dutch's fist connecting, and Kitty connecting to the floor.

Leda looks at Sam, "If you say you are fine I'll believe you but your demeanor says otherwise. We can get drunk later and talk about it if you wa…" He then looks at the ring, "I told you to keep it clean, Kitters." And then the combo and then the fall, "Well, she is offically a pilot now since Dutch beat her down." He then chuckles, "I told her to keep it clean." He looks to see if Kitty is okay but he is pretty sure medical staff is running in on her.

"Randy, Rags, Cedris. You know the drill, usually have cuffs and a night stick." Randy mutters as she watches the woman hit the ground and she sighs softly, rubbing a hand over her face. "Whoa…"

"Sorry, Sam." Wil mutters, low. "Really." His eyes narrow in a slight wince which coincides with Dutch grabbing his gun and bringing in the cat. Boom, boom, boom. "Oh. Frak. We need -weight classes- and -leagues- for this shit." He says, sounding only half-serious. Still, there -was- a serious half. "Anyway. Uh. I dunno. Want to grab a drink later and just chill? Forget about it? As someone with a series of frak-ups a click long, I can tell you this stuff won't last forever. Also? I owe you."

Kitters? There's no one by that name here. Just some lowly JiG who just got her ass handed to her in what has to be a new record on the CEC Kharon. Crumbling to the mat in slo-mo like those old boxing-themed movies, Kitty's knees are the first to hit the mat with the rest of her following suit, Kitty definitely out, Dutch most assuredly the winner.

Samantha considers that from Will, tilting her head…"Sure. I could use a drink. You -got- any? I know I'm out of booze and smokes and that sure as hell isn't making things any better." Sam grumbles quietly, a tightness to her jaw at that thought as she looks down at the borrowed/gifted cigarettes, her last half pack until she can pout another off of someone.

MSGT clears his throat. "Elder." His arms uncross, and he nudges the box of tags. "Tags out. This concludes the festivities for the evening." The large marine shoots a look at Dutch. "Make sure she isn't broken."

"I -think- I know where." Wil says, holding a finger to his lips in a 'shh'ing motion which is probably way too high-profile to be of any use. He stands, leaning forwards as Dutch claims another hapless victim in the Air Wing. It's a hazing thing. If you want to directly or indirectly be responsible for smoking Raiders out in space, you generally get beaten by the man at least once, as Willem well knows. Still, he seems concerned enough for the woman's well-being, watching intently.

He watches as Sam ignores his offer and he looks at Kitty who is out cold and then he looks at Wil and gives a supportive smile. He then picks up his gear, "Well, I think I'm going to get some rack time."

Samantha stands up, moving to drag her tags out of the pile also. No luck on beating the shit out of anything tonight it seems, alas. She looks back to Will, brows lofting thoughtfully, hands on her hips…"Alright then… do lead the way…" And her mind realizes Castor's been speaking too. So much happening. She gives him a half smile.."Will's got dibs…tomorrow, I promise… rest well, Leda…" She gives him a brief wave before looking back to Will.

Leda looks over at Sam and smiles, "Sure thing." He then says, "Besides I'll need to check on Kitty later."

"See you Leda." Wil says mildly as he ambles over to grab his tags himself. "Justaminute, Sam. Want to check our Raptor crew." Which he does, giving Kitty a mild once-over glance even though she's probably going to be in the hands of a trained professional. He smirks, weakly, before edging past Damon as he eyes the man. "Good to see you out on your feet." He says to Cavalera, guardedly. There's -something- about him that sparks the pilot's interest but he's only showing and not telling. Also, Lt. Ginger tosses out something else, in a mutter. "Thanks. For our people down on Scorpia." He just blinks once more, eyeing Randy with a faint nod before glancing to see where Sam went off to. No wait. She's still there.

Dutch nods once towards the MSGT as he makes his way to get his tags and head on out for the evening. Seems like Elder keeps his hitting streak up, though..maybe next time he won't so badly smash out a poor ECO. A shake of his head, and with that He's off.

Samantha's not -that- rude. She lets Will check on whomever, giving a few concerned looks over to those down in the ring herself, and a brief nod towards Dutch…"Good fightin'…" She murmurs respectfully, the man becoming legend in the ring, before she looks back towards Will and half smiles. "Shall we, Rebound?"

Turning his attention back to Samantha, Damon points in silence towards the bowl where the dog tags are. She might not want to leave without those. While not looking, he continues to speak with Randy. "Ah…the MP. Been seein' quite a few of your kind lately…"

"Sergeant Elder of the unbeatable record." Wil quips, good-humored enough. "If he keeps this up there will be nobody left but Marines and to fly the godsdamned planes." Snickering a little bit, he adjusts the tags as he slips them back over his neck and gestures towards the hatch. "Yeah. We can talk about whatnot. Shall we?"

MSGT shakes the box of tags pretty hard to let the assorted who still have theirs in know it's time to take 'em back. He dumps the remainder on the mat for sorting, then tucks the box under his arm. "Evening, folks." The gruff voice nearly growls it. Some might find that unfriendly, but most know it's just his way. A cloud of cigar smoke follows the big man as he takes his leave.

After a careful glance that the ECO is being tended to, Wil's forehead wrinkles a bit as he nudges Sam with his elbow. "Let's get out of here before someone decides to start an 'afterparty.' I don't want my callsign to get changed to 'Glassjaw.'" With that, he starts heading out.

Throwing his things into his bag, Damon zips it up and rises. Looking down to Randy, he brings the ridge of his right hand to his brow, giving her an informal salute to wave goodbye. Then turning to watch the slow stream of staff leaving the gym, he takes a final moment to look around the place. In his eyes, he sees a place devoid of the wreckage and hell of surface life on Scorpia. Smiling faintly, he turns to head to the door with quiet footfalls. "I'm usually out of boot by this time of night. Drop by." He says to Randy as he pulls open the hatch. "I haunt this room."

Randy gives Damon a chin up as she gets to her feet, snagging her her tags from the bowl before eyeing Damon thoughtfully. "It's my home away from home man, I'll be seein' you." She drawls softly before rolling her shoulders and starting to head for the weights. She's nothing if predictable.

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