Fist Sammich
Fist Sammich
Summary: Castor nearly finds out what a Fist Sandwich from Eddie tastes like when he breaks up some mourning to gloat.
Date: PHD072 (30 June 2009)
Related Logs: None

Location: Messhall

There was a near forking incident in the line, between Eddie and a Specialist who both reached for a piece of toast a the same time. It was a close call, but after a bit of jostling it seems that temperatures have calmed down, and now Eddie has moved off to claim a table with her bowl of oatmeal.

Breakfast. Well, breakfast usually offers something vaguely inoffensive to the palate. Kisseus, encouraged by these hopes, slouches past the Not Really Eggs, past the Even Less Really… well, he's not even sure that that's supposed to be, really. The toast long gone by the time he passes, his eyes light on the oatmeal. Which at the very least is Real Oatmeal. He takes a bowl, and some red-colored vitamin-powder infused water pretending to be juice. Standing and turning, he presents a weary face to the mess, one likely identical to most faces of remnants of the air wing these days. Not much sleep, but some sleep, at least, his eyelids faintly red where they meet his eyes. Tired as they are, his eyes fix a look on Mooner, and he shuffles over that way, "Room for one more, guy?" he asks gently, since she's sitting alone and might not appreciate company.

Eddie flicks her gaze up from her gruel to do a quick visual confirmation. Not someone she hates. Check. "Yeah sure. I had my shots this week, and Captain said…" She grimaces slightly, as if she just talked of the dead. "Captain said I bite one more person, they're going to put me in a muzzle." She finishes that sentence, come hell or high water now that she started it, but the rest ends in a grumble.

Matto sets his tray down across from her and settles in, a smile threatening to emerge before the untimely treading on the CAG's memory, at which his eyes lower to the oatmeal, poking at it with a spoon as his dark green eyes hide somewhat behind his eyelashes. He even seems about to take a bite, shoulder tensing just faintly into the beginnings of the act of lifting the spoon before he goes back to pushing it around, looking back up across the table. "I'm really sorry, Mooner," he offers her, tone warm, sincere, but fairly helpless in all of this. The emotional-support equivalent of a card with a heart glued in macaroni on the front. A heartfelt sentiment, if faintly pathetic.

Eddie pokes at her oatmeal with her spoon, appetite suddenly lacking. "For what Kissy?" Apparently, Eddie never got the memo that elbows aren't allowed on the table, as she braces both of them on the lip of it, and pushes her shoulders up around her ears. The spoon is pulled out of the lumpy oats, and she watches with idle facination as sliiiiiide off in a glop back into her bowl.

Matto keeps watching her, at this point, the bowl of his spoon vaguely chthunking agaisnt the bottom of the bowl, pushing the oatmeal between the two surfaces. "For the people you lost out there," he tells her quietly.

Eddie forces another bite of oatmeal down, if only because her body'll need it and it's a shame to waste food considering the circumstances. She washes it down with a heavy drink of water and a grimace, and her response to Matto is passionless. "We all have someone down there, in some form or another. Your squad leads down there too." She sucks on her teeth slightly. "They're not lost. We'll get'em back."

Takezo has arrived.

Takezo says, "evening"

Takezo grabs some food and sits at a table

Matto twirls his spoon in the stuff as it cools and hardens, making scalloped patterns in the meal. "Yeah," he utters a breathful monosyllable. "Legsy's down… Ivory. Cookiemonster and Thorn," he adds, kind of rushing through the last two names as if trying not to dwell on it long enough for his voice to give out, clearing his throat and finally taking a bite of the oatmeal, as big a one as he can manage, as if to get it over with. Swallowing, "We'll find those that went down," he agrees, voice firming up faintly with a willpower-infused certainty. "Typhoon, though…" he shakes his head, looking vaguely wounded by that one, a surprise blow. "And Lieutenant Kale…" whom he… didn't really know, at all. But still.

Praxis has arrived.

Castor has arrived.

Takezo looks up from his meal to see who just entered

Eddie is sitting at a table, eating oatmeal with Matto who's just recently joined her. Both don't look like the conversation they're having is very pleasant, but considering the recent circumstances, it's a bit hard to find a reason to smile much. "They died serving their purpose. All any of us can hope for. Better to go out with a bang, then a fizzle like our Chaplain." She continues playing with her gruel, only eating a bit here and there. "Shit happens so fast, we haven't even had time to properly toast their send off across the Styx."

Takezo pulls out a chair for Lt. Leda

Castor Leda, pilot, puppy dog, and a fish who swims in alcohol enders the room, as a chair is pulled for him by Takezo, the man smiles and after signing for his food he moves to take a seat beside the man. He apparently entered just in time to hear Eddie, "Mooner, some folks are cowards and take the easy way out and they don't get any glory however the rest of us might as well be immortals." He then takes the stub of a cigar that hasn't yet been lit out of his mouth he then looks at his food with a smile, warm food always makes him smile, "Hey look it is Mystery meat day again."

Matto cautiously extricates a lump from the oatmeal which he suspects of perhaps not being an actual oat lump, but, after some inspection, he's satisfied that it is, in fact, what it purports to be, and he licks it off of the spoon before tapping the tip of the spoon three times at the bottom of the bowl, looking aside to give Thunderbolt a quiet nod of greeting before resuming the conversation, "We won't forget to," he assures her almost insistantly. "We just… need to wait for the dust to settle, on this one." Castor's sudden condemnation of the Chaplain's actions makes him turn his head, but he doesn't say anything on the subject.

Praxis enters in from the hallway, the need for sustenance arising; and therefore the only reason he is here. No speaking, no stopping to chat, no socializing; just eating. The Lieutenant walks through, simply waiting his turn to acquire the sloppy oatmeal (which in fact, Praxis doesn't seem to be repulsed by). Bowl placed upon the tray and a cup of orange juice later, the most efficient path is taken to a seat in the nearest booth in the nearest empty table. As he sits, the particular group of tight-knit fighter pilots he chose to sit close to give him a bit of a look and unconsciously shift away. However, while oatmeal is shoveled and chewed, two ears remain open. Careful. Listening.

Takezo finishes his meal, takes his tray up to the counter

Eddie glances over at Takezo, lifting her chin a bit in greeting but her eyes go to Castor as he speaks. "Castor. Tell us how you really feel." She says drily, "What the frak are you smiling for?" She says gruffly.

Takezo says, "I've got to finish some reports, see everyone later"

Takezo leaves the mess hall

Leda looks over at Eddie for a moment with this sort of calm composure, he isn't detached and the Tinman hasn't come out to play, instead he looks utterly relaxed as he speaks with Eddie, "Me? I feel good Mooner. Outside of all of the trouble with the cylons all is right in the universe." He then looks at Matto for a moment noting Matto's response, he doesn't say anything because the damage has been done and a simple I'm sorry doesn't cover it. Instead he looks up at Praxis, "Eltee care to join us?"

Matto's brows both rise at Castor's assertion, and he scoops out another spoonful of oatmeal, carving it slowly from the congealing mass in his bowl, eyes lowering to keep track of his work. "Can't argue with that, I don't guess," he murmurs, then, so as to keep himself from arguing with it, he glues his jaws shut with the spoonful of oatmeal.

Eddie stabs at her oatmeal with the tip of her spoon. Die oatmeal, die. Her shoulders are practically bunched up around her ears, her dark eyes on her bowl, and the scowl on her face pulling so severely if someone were to smack her on the back, it just might stick that way. "'Outside of the Cylons' he says. Like there's such a frakking thing anymore. I swear, if you start skipping and clicking your heels, I might just have to flatten you where you stand, Leda."

The uniformed Lieutenant's ears seem to perk at the sudden invitation thrown in Praxis' direction. For a moment he glances over his shoulder towards Leda, a bit of a quirked brow before he swallows the mouthful of oatmeal he was chewing. Fingers curling around the tray, Demitros fluidly rises from the chair and traverses the short distance over to the gathered group and instead has a seat near them. Praxis then takes the opportunity to break his silence. "If Lieutenant Leda wishes to make the effort to raise morale in these times of … difficulty, why would his comrades be … opposed?" At this point in time, jades fall upon Eddie most predominantly, before they fall back to his breakfast.

Castor looks over at Eddie, he doesn't gloat but instead he smiles and says, "Mooner, sometimes we just have to accept what has happened and look at the good things we have around us. Famine mentality versus feast mentality. Right now I have a feast mentality and if you want to lat me out and if it makes you feel better go for it." He then adds softly in amused and yet honest tones, "Though I doubt Flash would like that very much." He then looks at Matto and gives a half shrug, he will have to repair the damage later most likely with some new miracle pack of gummies he has found. He then looks over at Praxis, "Sir, I think the Ensign is jealous on account of I am with someone under the regs and all. However, I would like to boost morale, I was thinking of another talent show."

"Sometimes," Kisseus begins, once he's swallowed down the mouthful of oatmeal he'd inflicted upon himself, "The best way through to being happy is to let yourself be sad. You know, there's no shame in grief. The only real way to let it out is through letting yourself feel it." His eyes are torn up from his oatmeal again at Castor's accusation of jealousy, his mouth slightly open and eyes half-squinted shut in a look of just sheer bafflement as to why he'd throw that at Mooner right now. Or at all. "Did you wake up on the asshole side of the bed this morning, Tinners? Seriously."

Eddie eyes Praxis evenly, seems she's not afraid to face confrontation with a superior officer, at least up until they point when they smack an order on her. When it's casual conversation, all bets are off. "Don't make me thwap you with a spoonful of oatmeal, sir." She says flatly to Prax. "I already have one food fight under my belt, I'm not afraid to start a sec.." Blink. A look to Castor, then to Matto. "Wait. Did he just say, what I think he said?" Her spoon gets slammed down, and Eddie rises fast enough to her feet, that her chair goes clattering backwards.

Camille has arrived.

Getting hit by oatmeal may just be one of Praxis' biggest fears. However, just about when he's about to open his maw in regards to the prospect of a talent show, he hears the racket of Eddie's seat go skittering across the floor. The Lieutenant's eyes have not ventured from the lumpy oatmeal he's currently in the process of separating, instead his voice is smooth and non-chalant as he addresses the Ensign. "You may not fear tossing fragments of porridge across the room, Ensign…" Once again eyes lock onto the pilot who's temper is flared. "…but if I see fists flying you'll have more than just Leda's words to worry about. Check yourself." Okay, yeah, Prax can be a hard-ass but he hates unnecessary fights that may send one or more people to the brig or medibay. "Look, I know it's been hard. For all of us. But I'd rather you two take it out on each other in the gym then give each other black eyes and bloody noses." Of course, Eddie won't get all of Prax's flak. "Can we keep provocation to a minimum, LT? At least until I'm finished breakfast."

Castor goes quiet, having one of those moments, you know the kind where you are in one state and everyone else around you is in another, kind of like Mondays. Leda then looks at Kissy as Matto comes down on him and he lowers his head slightly, Kissy is a friend and his condemnation is enough to shut him up. However, as the chair flies back he looks over at Eddie and he then looks down at the chair. He doesn't flinch but he doesn't look happy. Instead he merely remains quiet, because after all his words wouldn't be effective now and if Eddie hits him…well he may have had it coming. However as Praxis speaks Castor takes moment to study the man as if he suddenly had a friend. He then says, "Thank you, sir."

Camille steps into the room just in time to miss the possible fight and be slapped in the face by all the fall out tension. With a very full sickbay, panicing crew, mentally breaking down pilots, and a still unchanged Vendas, well the middle aged doctor hasn't really gotten a single lick of sleep in a while. So coffee gets a gal through, and food. She's in her scrubs, only a few splatters of dried blood on them Gods know how old… her red hair is messily pinned back, ready to tuck under a cap at a moments notice, and she's actually beginning to show her age. She heads silently in the direction of the coffee maker, but keeps an eye on the tense group as she moves.

Matto rises, more slowly and more cautiously than Eddie, "Hey, c'mon. If we start decking one another, the Cylons win, remember?" This, vaguely in Mooner's direction, then, looking at Castor, "That was really, really uncalled for, dude. Can you, like, apologize or something, at least?" he asks of him.

The tension in Eddie's form is almost palpable, surely the tick in the line of her jaw is indicative of the fact that even though Praxis has just told her to stow it, she's contemplating breaking regs long enough to break Leda's nose. Tick Tick. Fingers curl into the palms of her hands, fists balling by her side. All the while she keeps her gaze afixed to Castor, though no doubt all she is seeing is red. Finally, her fingers pry back open, only to reach out and grab her tray. Meal time's over. Either that or she's going to use it to bash Castor's face in, so she doesn't break a nail.

Although Eddie is someone to be watched, Prax's eyes turn to Castor, both of his eyebrows raising. "Don't thank me just yet LT; while I may have spared you a few more seconds of life where the Ensign's knuckles aren't embedded in your skull, you got yourself into this mess and you're not quite out of the woods judging by the look on her face." It's evident Prax more than agreed to Kissy's notion of an apology, or perhaps something even more. "And may I remind you both…that this lovely lady…" He motions to Camille. "…and her colleagues have way more than enough work to do at the moment. Don't give them any more." Taking his tray, Prax moves to put it away. "Excuse me, duty calls, I must return to the CIC."

Camille frowns a bit more as she considers the fact she might be watching Eddie preparing for a massive coronary right here and right now. She pours out her coffee and then walks a few steps closer, not interfering, but giving that mama lionness look watching over a few too roughly playing cubs, a mix protective, skeptical, and ready to help when the blood starts dripping. She doesn't interfere otherwise. She lofts a brow at the tac officer, a slightly amused smile crossing her lips as she bows her head in his direction…"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Sorry, Mooner, I didn't mean to make you angry. I guess I am just in a certain state of mind is all." His tones are sincere especially as he turns to Matto, "And sorry Kissy, I didn't mean to insult you, especially you, man, because you are my friend and I don't want to make you mad." He looks over at Eddie as if he is ready for her to clock him in the face with the tray. He doesn't lower his head this time, perhaps to give Eddie the cleanest shot or because he really is sorry for what he has done. As he hears Doc Locke chime in he realizes there is at least one Doctor to keep his face pretty for Kassia.

Matto mostly stares down Castor during his apology, though hsi eyes flick momentarily to Mooner to see how she's doing. "Yeah. Guy. You might want to see to that before you go around making comments, okay?" Not with enough energy to pull off 'angry,' but definitely irritated, which is a new look on the usually jovial Raptor pilot.

Hey, look at that. Eddie's actually just bussing her tray, and getting the hell out of dodge for the time being, but not before letting Castor sweat it out there for a second as to whether or not she's going to pop him one. As she turns from the table, there's only a quick flash of an apologetic look and it's given to Matto, no one else. Then off she goes to scrape her bowl and put up her dishes for washing.

While he hopes that he prevented someone from getting hurt today, Praxis knows he has no control over what happens after he departs. But as soon as he leaves this room, it's no longer his problem. He can't stop something he doesn't know is going to happen. With nothing else flying from his vocal chords, Prax leaves the mess hall to go hang out with the other officers and play lackey for the big wigs. TACCO Away!

Praxis has left.

Castor takes a moment to study everyone as he just goes quiet, way to go Leda, great to frak up another social situation, Pollux wouldn't do that but then again you've been ordered to live for yourself and not as Pollux, frak do I even know who in the frak I am….oh wait bring it together don't let others know. Instead Leda simply begins eating as his mind tries to figure out who he really is these days after all he has spent the past seven years as Pollux and he doesn't really know who Castor is. The thought then comes to him, 'Is Castor a dick?' He then hopes not as he shovels in some food.

Matto stands up the rest of the way, looking down into his bowl. Mostly empty. It'll do. He stands there with his head bowed for a moment, then opts simply to drain the 'juice' from his cup and bring his tray over to clear it. Yup, we'll call that a breakfast.

Camille sighs, gazing over Matto and Castor…"You both know her better…should someone follow, be certain she doesn't do something…unwise, or just give her room?" Camille is definitely worried as she watches the woman's back going, but she doesn't quite jog along after… yet. She seems ready to do so at a heartbeat's notice, though.

Eddie has hands thrust deep in her fatigue pockets, and she merely shuffles out, maybe 'accidently' shouldering some incoming peeps on her way out.

You head through the exit labeled <H> Hallway.

You are entering Red Squadron Berthings - Deck 1.

Meanwhile, back at the Bat Cave. Er. Red Berthings…

Matto has arrived.

Eddie streamlined her way here after the incident in the messhall, and now she's pacing in front of her bunk with both hands laced into her head, her palms pressed against her forehead.

Matto taps on the side of the hatchway with his knuckles, not long in coming around, but not wanting to just intrude if Mooner just needs some time to herself. "Mooner?" he peeks in, voice low, that tone of voice, meek and mild, letting her know that 'buzz off' is an entirely acceptable answer at the moment.

Eddie continues walking back and forth, back and forth, like a caged animal restless in its captivity. "That sonofabitch, that gods damn sonofabitch.." She just mutters darkly as she stalks. At the end of one pass, her foot lashes out, catching a chair and sending it clattering.

Matto steps in as quietly as possible, letting her rant as she will, coming to the end of her pacing trail and righting the chair, there, standing with his hands on the back of the chair in a casual sort of lean. "You going to be alright? Yeah, I— I don't know what's with Tinners. He's probably… not dealing with this as well as he says he is, you know?"

Eddie continues to seethe, breathing labored enough to be visible in rise and fall of her chest. "And that…El Tee. Acting like someone gloating that they're getting laid while our friends are out there, possibly getting /masacred/ is going to really frakking raise morale? What the frak? I could just…" She holds her hands out in front of her, shaking and strangling thin air.

Matto leans on the back of the chair, "To…" he hesitates, briefly, knowing that sometimes people don't want to be talked down, but he's begun, so he continues, "To be perfectly fair to the Lieutenant, he made the comment about morale before Tinners started spewing that shit. I mean. Not that I agree with what he said about the Chaplain. Or about everything being okay… except for the cylons," Kissy heaves his head to one side in an incredulous shake of his head, "But the LT wasn't putting bragging on sexual conquests on a pedestal as something to raise morale, no."

Eddie gives a glance to Matto, that truth clicking. Maybe it's not that fact that pulls her completely out of her little tirade, but it's just enough to make her chill for a second and at least stop flinging furniture. "It's just shit. It's utter shit." She sighs, long and hard, trying to come down from her bloodlust high.

"Yeah, I know," Kissy replies, looking down to the seat of the chair. "It's… funny. Well, not funny," bad choice of words, "But you'd think after the annihilation of everything and everyone, a few more people wouldn't hurt so damn bad. But this is like the worst part," he sighs out the last few words, just sounding tired. "Do you want a hug?" he asks gently, having learned, at some point, to ask, when it comes to people he hasn't been flying with for years. Ghostriders are fair game for spontaneous huggery.

Eddie narrows her eyes slightly at Matto, not in anger, but rather speculation. "You're the second person lately, who's asked me that. Weird." She shakes her head slightly, and holds out her arms in resignation for him to fill.

Matto fills, in turn, wrapping his arms around her back in a great bearhug. Kissybearhug? "I guess these are the times when folk most need hugs," he speculates on the coincidence, leaning his head down to rest on her shoulder, face turned away from her even as he talks to her. "I was talking to Rabbit. We're going to get back out there. Soon. We're bringing our guys home come hell or high… Cylon."

Eddie sighs into the warmth of his arms, and just. Stays there. Her head tucked against his shoulder, arms lose around his waist, and generally miserable. "The sooner the better. If I have to sit around stewing about this, something bad is going to happen. Rubix is down there. Gods dammit. He's /my/ responsibility. I should be down there too." Ah guilt, it's such a great thing.

"Hey," Kissy replies softly, "Ivory's looking after Poetryslam, for now. He's in good hands. Some of the best," he tries to assure her, not moving, just holding her there in the hug, warm and soft. Every bit as cuddly as the teddy bear vibe he exudes. "They'll be alright 'til we can get in there and give them a lift home. And hey… if anyone should be down there, it should be me," he points out, the guilt in his own voice… present, but not overly burdensome. "I flew the preliminary recon for this mission," he points out, "And there just…" he moistens his lips a little, emotion beginning to well in his throat, "There just wasn't any sign of that big a cylon presence. If we had stayed longer… looked closer… we'd have been the ones shot down, and this whole thing would have been nipped in the bud."

Eddie squeezes a little tighter. "Great. We've resorted to blaming ourselves. Pretty soon, we'll be crying in our applesauce and slitting our wrists with safety razors." She gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek, then untangles herself from his arms. "Have you been up to see Jupiter yet? I feel like I have this obligation, but I just can't bring myself to do it."

"That really seems to be our last good option," Kisseus smiles faintly, letting go and stepping back, putting one hand back on the back of the chair. "Yea, just briefly, I saw her. She had her usual throng of admirers about," he smiles, then the smile fades some, "She was being her usual self, to boot. But yeah, she's probably taking losing Marek pretty hard. I didn't really talk to her about it. I figured it'd be best to leave it to y'all."

Eddie combs her hands back through her hair, then makes a swipe of her face, as if trying to clear away any indication she had a 'moment' there. "Why would she take losing Marek any harder then the rest of us?" She asks, in that 'were they close?' sort of way.

Matto shoots a glance across the berthings toward the CAG's bunk, then back toward Mooner, looking a little more uncertain, now, "They… well, they were sharing a bunk, weren't they?"

Eddie narrows her eyes a bit at Matto. "Not that I …know of. That shit usually travels like wildfire through a place like this. And I've never seen them shacking up together in berthings or otherwise. I mean, call me a liar, but I live here. I could tell you everyone's bra or jock strap size by now, and tell you who has a mole shaped like the Colonies' eighteenth president. You'd think the Captain would be a whole lot happier were he getting a little lovin'."

Matto tilts his head to the side, "Huh. Maybe I'm wrong, then," Kissy leaves it at that, not seeming inclined to go into details, "I'm not calling you a liar, Mooner," he smiles. "Still, it must have been hard being out there with him and coming home without him, yah?"

Eddie shakes her head, again. "Jupiter was flying in home base detail. People it must really suck for are Rebound and Screamer, they had to leave their section leads behind on Scorpia." She paces away, if only so she can shuck out a cigarette and light up. "Fingers and the CAG, huh? Nah, I just don't buy it."

Matto settles into a chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Yeah, gods, I saw Rebound in the Ready Room… he looked like hell," he takes a deep breath, nothing more to say on the sleeping arrangements in Red Squadron berthings.

Hale has arrived.

Eddie leans back against her locker, letting the lit cigarette dangle from her lips. It waggles precariously while she talks. "For once, the man's certainly not living up to his callsign, is he? Rebound." She repeats, as if clarifying. "Some real shit, man. That's all there is to it. Glad I got out of there, before busting Castor's jaw though. I don't need to be in the brig during the rescue mission."

The Hatch opens, and in comes Hale, still in his blues, and with that pistol strapped to his side. though he is taking time to pull unbutton the blue blouse, letting the flap hang open. "Cripes.." mutters the tall Lieutenant before he's stopping short of his locker. "Someone have a smoke I can bum?" Asked, before he's looking back to the others. A raised brows to the words, but he's not saying anything.

Matto watches the cigarette with some vague fascination, never quite understanding how people could do that and not let the whole thing topple out. He leans an elbow on the table and leans over it, in the meanwhile. "Yeah, that'd suck. Might have put Castor out of the rescue op, too… and we're dwindling down to numbers that won't like that kind of personnel loss," he points out. He looks to Rabbit, and gives him a warm smile. "Sorry, guy," he offers in the way of a negative. He doesn't smoke, not being a greedy bastard.

Eddie holds up her pack, waggling it in the general direction of Hale, aka the interim CAG man, aka her section lead til death do they part. Which may be soon, considering she says, "Whaddya give me for one?"

"What do you want?" seems Hale's response, though the look from him, might show the man is bleeding tired. He'll rack out soon enough before coming back into it. And eyes are looking between them all for a second. "And might I ask, what is going on?" for all sounds and purposes, it seems like something is. Where as he might not be Sweet Daddy Kai, Rabbit, can at least instill peace until they bring everyone back. No need for folks to be up in arms amongst one another, right?

Matto looks toward Eddie with a mildly pleading look as she teases the poor meanwhile-CAG with a cig, imploring her with his eyes to take pity on the guy. "Nothing, dude. We were just chilling out here after an unfortunately close encouter of the asshat variety. Tinners… is having problems," he euphemizes, features registering mild distaste, then melting into something more concerned, "How're you holding up?"

Eddie quirks a brow and a smirk for Hale's benefit, letting his imagination run wild with only that little expression as to fill in the blank as to what Eddie could want in return from that smoke. Seems she's willing to share, but she's not hell bent on being the delivery service, so if he wants that smoke, he'll have to come and retrieve it himself - tired or no. "In other words, Leda was being an frakker in mess earlier. I almost showed him what my fist tasted like, but I didn't. Aren'tcha proud?"

Hale meets the smoke head on before, he is coming over and snatching that right form Eddie's fingers. "Thank you." said back to her, before his trademark'd lighter is pulled out. A flick drag-puff. Nice, all right there. Eyes look back towards Matto, and a frown- for a second. "Really?" And a chuckle, as a chair is pulled out "I am very proud. I don't need people in the brig right now.." A nod to Matto "Yeah fine, just a bit tired, ran th' candle too long last night. Won't make that mistake again.." And then it seems back to the topic at hand. "What did he do? Besides asshat actions, that could be anything, from peein' in your soup- t' calling people loose." A motion of his hand to dismiss that "Leonisian saying. Sorry."

Matto's face actually registers a soft smile at the expression, a familiar one to the sometime inhabitant of the Twin Cities. "He was in a good mood," he begins to explain, "Which, while not a crime in its own rights? Doesn't excuse him making comments about Father Krydel and saying that Mooner's just tetchy from lack of sexin's." His own phraseology littered handily with Leontinianisms.

Eddie relinquishes the pack to Rabbit, letting him take what he will from the pack or the whole thing if he'd rather and he's feeling fiesty. "So to clarify, he couldn't have been calling me loose." She pulls the cigarette out of her mouth, lips screwing to exhale towards the ceiling. "He said I was jealous that he's getting his wick dipped, and I'm not. Damn near gloating over that fact, when we're sitting around mourning our lost wingmates. You know what, I'm pissed again. I'm gonna go bleed his ass…" She pushes off her locker, with renewed energy.

Hale frowns for a moment "What's he got against a dead man?" Though the rest of it has him looking back towards Eddie before he's tossing the pack down on the table. Before he's raising a brow, and then something one might not expect. A bit of fierceness to his voice "Morales, Don't." Left there like an order, before he's looking to his wingman "Let me deal with him." And there's a look passed towards Matto. "Bloody this is what we don't need, right here, th' high an mighty coming out."

Matto uncrosses his legs and lifts the one closest to the wall to press his foot up against a locker, producing a barrier to try to slow Mooner down on her way out of the berthings. If he has any concerns about having thus laid his boyparts open to assault, he doesn't show it in the least, only giving Eddie a quiet look, "What about staying out of the brig for the rescue op?" he asks her, looking to make some eye contact, before he frowns slightly at the Rabbit, "What do you mean?" he asks bluntly, in re: his last comment.

Eddie looks down to the leg that was just planted in her way, no doubt coming up with several severe ways she could remove that limb from path. A long moment ticks by, and her gaze slides up his trouser leg, skims up his torso, then finally makes eye contact with the Raptortron himself. 'Morales, Don't.' The skin around her eyes tenses with those words and her teeth grind. "Fine." She says harshly, suddenly looking around for a new outlet. Last time it was the chair.

"By that me mucker, I mean we don't need folks sittin on horses an pointin' if that makes sense. Whether it is over something done in a mission, sims, or personal life. We don't need one feller stirring up animosity. Not right now. So I am going to deal with Leda, to keep it from happening." And his hand moves over his short hair, as a long drag is taken. "I know everyone is hurtin' We just can't let it get worse.." Which is like trying to put a band-aid on a gunshot wound, by his estimation.

"Thanks Eddie.." Hale offers, after that moment. "If you want later, we can go a couple of round in th gym…" Though last time that happened, he knocked her to the ring.

Matto is really quite prime for dismemberment. Stares impending death in the eyes with a gaze neither pushy nor retreating. It would probably take nothing more than a shove to send his foot to the floor, and, indeed, after she calls off the attack, it drops there. "Yeah, if you need someone to beat up—" he looks to Rabbit, "Well, Rabbit would probably put up more of a fight. But I'd be game if you're looking for someone who won't hit back. Or, you know, when I get all worked up, I go down to the game room and do some fingerpainting. It's really an excellent emotional outlet," he adds, pitching the idea with a vague upward inflection of his voice.

Eddie drags a hand down her face, "Maybe I'll just go visit Fingers." She plugs her mouth with her cigarette again, and now that Matto's leg has been moved of his own accord, she's slipping past him. "Welcome to the burdens of Brass, Bunny." Mooner mumbles, making for her exit.

Matto nods his head quietly, pushing himself up out of the chair he was planted in, "See you later, Mooner. Tell Black hey for me, yah?" he sends along his well-wishes with the Red Squadroner, though he doesn't seem quite about to leave, himself, yet.

Hale nods back towards Eddie, before laughing dryly, ahh yes the burdens of Brass, exactly as Kai meant it when they had a conversation about heavy being the head and all. There's a look back to Mooner "Read her a story yeah?" called out before a glance to Matto. "Well then."

You head through the exit labeled <H> Hallway.

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