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Topic: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance (Read 11386 times) previous topic - next topic
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Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #25 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae @P.C. Haring @Auctor Lucan @BipSpoon @Stegro88 @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero

Her eyes never stopped moving as she sat, resting her chin on the folded forearms atop the back of the reversed folding chair. To her surprise, she actually recognized the face of at least one person in the room – the brunette figure of the legendary LT Suder off by the bar, cigar in hand – which gave her pause for a few moments. Suder was quite possibly one of the most experienced combat pilots in the entire Astronautical Command; her exploits during the Dominion War were well documented – Talia had reviewed them multiple times at Omega. She’d even been an instructor there, before Talia’s time.

I’ll introduce myself after all this, she nodded to herself. No sense ruining her night with hero worship and shop talk.

Her eyes wandered again, to the blonde Romulan next to Suder. There was something about that one that spoke of imminent danger, or aggression boiling under the surface. Something about the way she carried herself, even here, seemingly at ease. She looks like she’s seen too many secrets; too much pain. It was the eyes, of course. The eyes never lie.

Her gaze drifted over the male Trill next; decently built, handsome, but he didn’t carry himself like someone used to hurting others. Her experienced eye extrapolated the details from the muscle groups he targeted most. He looks like a gymnast, or at least someone who wants to be. Wonder what his story is, she mused before moving on to the bearded, burly man off to the side of the ring. His face was in profile to her view, speaking quietly and intently to a much smaller woman. Rugged, experienced, she pursed her lips as she considered; Probably sexy as hell without the beard. Ah well. She watched him very closely. There’s someone who knows what he’s doing, she nodded. Her hands balled into fists as she stared, seeing the way he bounced, the way he crouched and snapped his strikes out, the way he guarded himself. Not so different from the styles taught to us at the Academy, she nodded again, minus the holds and throws, of course.

She also noticed one of the Andorian women approach the smaller woman, opposite the boxer; the two shared what appeared to be a heated discussion. Interesting, the corner of her lips curled up. Lovers quarrel? Shame—they’re both cute. She sighed then, closing her eyes as she flexed her hands into fists. Yallah, enough of that. The pretty Andorian spoke to the boxer next, who seemed mildly annoyed at whatever she told him. Talia raised her eyebrows at the drama unfolding, even more interested to see how he performed in the ring.

All that musing was interrupted by the Trill pulling his own badge out of the box; she hadn’t noticed him walk over to it, focused as she was on the goings on with the boxer. She rolled her eyes when he flexed though, hoping that for his sake those muscles helped him. Hate to see that cute face get mauled, she sucked her teeth, that’d be a shame. The name he called off the second badge meant nothing to her, until she saw the blonde Romulan move. Oh shit – he’s gonna fight her? The murmurs of the crowd seemed to agree with her; the anticipation filled the air as the pair donned their gloves and stepped into the ring.

What seemed like a few seconds in and it was over. Talia fought the urge to wince at the meaty thap of Amarik’s glove slamming into his face, failing completely for the second hit which sealed the deal. Good night, she pantomimed a small, sad wave to the handsome Trill as his knees buckled. Less than a minute, she huffed the hair out of her face, typical. The Romulan eased his fall, and the pretty Andorian was at his side in seconds. Hmm. Must be a nurse, she stroked her bottom lip with a thumbnail as she watched them treat the fallen, eyes lingering on her curves. It only lasted a few seconds, then she blinked rapidly, searching for the next contestants.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #26 –
[ Ens. Via "DixeBee" Wix | Via Wix's Quarters | Deck 8 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @BipSpoon @Stegro99 @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero @Dumedion
[Show/Hide]

When Via received the announcement that there was going to be a "Dance" in Holodeck 5, she was half tempted to just shut her PADD off and return to sleep, especially after the wild day she just had testing the PDCs. She did end up thinking that such an event would have a shit ton of free real booze that she could drink.

"Fuck it" she said as she got up from bed and put on her Wolf hoodie and sweat pants and left her room.


| Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy

One hour later after getting lost twice, Via finally arrived at the holodeck, walking inside and quickly taken off guard by the sight. The place didn't look like a dance. There was music, and booze, but people weren't dressed right. Some were wearing ancient uniforms she had only read in history books, while others were wearing more casual attire. Then there was a giant ring with people all around it cheering what looked like...

Via's eyes widened and her smile grew. She laughed at herself and facepalmed. "Who the fuck calls a fight a dance?" The woman said to herself. Fighting for fun was one of the former gang member's favorite pass times. Street fights were common where she grew up and she loved to watch them. As she grew older she started to join in herself. No matter if she won or lost Via just loved the amusement and joy she got from duking it out with people. Upon further observation, she spotted a few of her fellow Wolves too, and Zark. Of course, she made a beeline to the bar before talking to anyone, she was way too sober to be in what looked like a flight club. She went up to the counter, rested her arms on top of it, and leaned forward.

"Ay, bar dude. Tequila, the whole ass bottle, and none of the fake synth shit. Gimmie the real deal."

When the bartender returned with her order Via took the bottle and chugged it down; it would be followed by her slamming the emptied drink on the table and a loud bout of excitement from her. "Wooooo!! Fuck ya! This is what I am talkin' about! More of that good shit." The bartender came back with another bottle and Via would do the same thing. Her excitement would only be amplified with the tequila in her system. She did not know how the fighting system worked so she just did whatever she felt was right. The pilot would turn around and shout so anyone in the general bar area could hear.

"Someone fight me, let's go! If ya don't you're a lil bitch!" She laughed her ass off before asking the bartender for another bottle. Via took that one and drank it to about to the halfway mark. "All a yall are lil bitches!" She chuckled as she waited for someone to challenge her. This was her attempt of posturing, but she didn't care if the person was a wimp like her RIO or a 10 foot Klingon, she would fight anyone and she was going to have fun while doing so.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #27 –
[Reggie Suder | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy ] attn:  @Auctor Lucan‍  @BipSpoon‍  @Stegro88‍  @RyeTanker‍  @Ellen Fitz‍  @uytrereee‍  @Nero‍  @Dumedion‍  @ob2lander961‍ 


Watching everyone coming in and, frankly the jawing between everyone, Reggie found herself wondering if she should go and throw her badge in the box. 

Then Arven Leux went down like a sack of potatoes and the pilot quickly re-evaluated her original re-evaluation.  No.  She would not be fighting tonight.  Leux stayed down, but Zark was quick to jump into the ring and tend to the physician.  Reggie was about to head to the ring herself and offer whatever asisstance she could provide the Andorian, but before she could even put her bottle and cigar down, Zark already had Leux on the stretcher and was taking him off the canvas.

No sooner had they cleared out did Enyd and Arnold step in. 

Well this will be an interesting bout.  Hopefully not nearly as lopsided as the last one… but I can’t imagine how Enyd is going to hold her own against Arnold.

She started to make her way closer to watch this bout, but the doors opened as two more people arrived.  Reggie recognized Via right away, of course and took in the woman’s bravado and energy as she worked herself up, spoiling for a literal fight.  Reggie couldn’t blame her.  Having been down for as long as she was aboard Oneida, Wix must have had energy to burn and she looked forward to flying with this pilot in her flight group.

But the pilot who came in before Wix, Reggie didn’t know her directly.  She’d seen her face on the roster, recently assigned to Wolf 4, if she remembered from the roster.  After the awkwardness with Wix, Reggie had made a point to stay on top of the squadron bulletins as they came in.  Reggie sensed something about the brown haired pilot and for a moment she met her eye. 

Reggie raised her bottle in a silent greeting and invitation for them to join her if they so wished.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #28 –
[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero 
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Whilst exchanging nods and silent greetings, cursory smiles and glances, Ida had made her way to the other end of the bar and ordered Andorian ale - the synthehol kind - while waiting for her combadge to be pulled for a new match. She watched the ongoings inside the holodeck in quietude, appreciating the atmosphere with a small smile, noticing whom came and who fought.

It was interesting to see the Reman and her halfblood sister attending, and she considered how it might be to fight an XB Reman shock trooper. She was Lorad's superior officer in Security, but this evening, rank was to be left by the door, so it had little consequence. It appeared, however, that in contrast to his sister, Lorad had decided to not leave his combadge, and there was no way for him to be picked. As it were, when two combadges were picked anew, Ida had been assigned another contender.

"ThanIda zh'Wann and Logan Hale!" came the announcement, and Ida did know who this was. Her blue eyes shifted to the Lone Wolf farther down the bar counter, a pinkskin whom seemed to try to talk to a new wolf pup from the Oneida without much luck. She knew Hale had joined the crew before the Battle of the Apertures, and while hurt, he'd recovered at Aldea, and then defended the Sabine as it made its way to Qo'noS. Ida had not been on a mission together with the last remaining White Wolf, but since the wolves were so few and took such high risks for the sake of defending the crew, they were something akin to celebrities aboard.

So I'll fight a Lone Wolf again, Ida thought while she downed her drink and stepped away from the bar, starting to string her gloves on. Captain Ives had arranged a similar kind of sparring tournament prior to the Battle of Starbase 84, where she'd fought Nathaniel Isley. That time, the rules had been looser when it came to the sparring, kicks and grappling having been allowed, but she enjoyed the challenge of abiding to "fists-only". She would have to make sure she didn't accidentally slipped and dealt the pinkskin a hammer-blow with the bottom of her fist, since that wasn't allowed either given the placement of the padding of the glove.

While she approached the ring in wait for the match between her and Hale, she thought about how Isley had died over Andor, and the unresolved issues between them after the Skye Carver investigation. When she caught the eye of Logan, she smiled and inclined her head to the Human, and loosened up her shoulders a bit in wait for their time to fight.

"Let's see if you can fight outside of your cockpit, Lone Wolf," she said, antennae angling towards him.

OOC: Let's do a JP via PMs, @Nero ! :)

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #29 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero @P.C. Haring @Tae @ob2lander961

In the moments of relative quiet waiting for the second match to begin, Talia felt something draw her attention back to the bar – some kind of ruckus – her dark eyes sighting its source nearly instantly. She was petite, and younger than herself, and seemed to be trying to break some kind of record for intoxication; or attempted alcohol poisoning.

Talia narrowed her eyes when she recognized the squadron emblem on the girl’s hoodie, confusion pinching her face into a mask of disdain. Allah, there’s always one in every outfit, she rolled her eyes. Pilots were a rowdy bunch by nature of their chosen profession; then there were those that overcompensated just a bit – in her experience, they tended to be all bark, no bite.

Then the hollering started.

Nothing worse than a loudmouth, Talia groaned, working the tension out of her neck before glancing back over to her fellow pilot, willing the girl to stop embarrassing herself. As her eyes passed the crowd, she felt drawn back to Lt. Suder, whose attention seemed to be lingering on her. Meeting her eyes, Talia offered a quick nod, which was returned with a raised bottle.

Shit, she cursed as her hand dropped to the pocket of her hoodie, clasping the combadge there. Stay or go, she debated, flicking her eyes back to the loudmouth. She keeps drinking like that and the only thing she’ll be fighting is gravity – and her own stomach, Talia huffed, then stood, turning the folding chair back around. Fuck it. I came here for a reason; no sense wasting time about it.

Picking up her gym bag in her left hand, Talia squared her shoulders as she negotiated the crowd up to the front of the ring and the box there waiting for her badge. After dropping it in without a backward glance, she took a round-about route; one that gave her inebriated peer at the bar a wide berth, while bringing her within talking distance to Lt. Suder.

She offered the legendary pilot her best approximation of a friendly smile as she paused next to her. “I’m Shadow,” she offered her hand in greeting, “new-blood to the Wolves. I’d love to talk shop with you sometime LT,” she added, then jerked her head to the ring. “Should probably wait until after I fight though – so I can remember,” Talia laughed nervously.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #30 –
[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen & Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon @Tae @Nero @Stegro88 @P.C. Haring @RyeTanker @Dumedion @Auctor Lucan

This ring was his canvas. His fists the brushes that would create the portrait of their match. Frank had no doubt that he would best Enyd, and it appeared the woman also already believed herself the loser. While it wasn’t his place to question her motives for the challenge, Frank still felt a tickle of curiosity niggling in the back of his mind as he led the way into the ring. While he had no interest in pummeling the lady into the next century, Frank did at least hope through the process of the fight she was able to work her way through whatever it was haunting her gaze.

He was no head doctor, but he recognized that look. He’d seen it reflected back at himself in the mirror a time or two over the years. His sense of duty and obligation had carried him through many a terror-filled situation but that didn’t stop the brooding self-doubt that nagged his every step once things slowed down. Being in the ring and engaged in a match, that was one of only a few areas where the caviling confusion that accompanied surviving chaos settled into a static silence. Time spent with Jaya, yes, that was yet another, but now was not the time for thoughts on a certain auburn-haired Ensign.

Snorting with a sense of self-deprecating amusement, Enyd rapidly processed through her reasons for following the powerful pugilist into this ring. Fear. The fear of failure and helplessness weighed on her right glove. While survivor’s guilt gilded her left. Flexing her fingers within the cushion of the gloves, Enyd noted the tautness of the hand wraps, flexible enough to allow for movement, but tight enough to offer additional protection. A laughable thought, really, protection whilst throwing yourself in front of gloved fists intending upon doing you harm. Enyd suddenly jerked to a stop. Frank had halted in the middle of the ring and stood staring at her with an expectant gaze. Enyd moved closer, remembering the boxing tradition he’d spoken of earlier.

“Remember, fights are noisy,” Frank spoke once they stood near toe-to-toe in the middle of the ring, “keep peace in your soul.” It was something he liked to say, usually to those he worked with, but considering the context, Frank felt Enyd might appreciate the sentiment, if only later, post-match. “Just follow the steps of the dance.”

Enyd hummed her acknowledgement as they knocked gloves together. Each took a series of short steps back. Frank moved with gliding confidence. His powerful body fluid as he assumed his positon opposite her, his feet already falling into the necessary steps required of their “dance.” Enyd raised her fists into a block stance, wafting the tarry scent of leather into her senses. A clanging bell started them off.

She didn’t hesitate. Enyd advanced, throwing a flurry of punches. Jabs, hooks, crosses, and jabs again. Her hands were fast as she danced in and out of Frank’s space. So early in the match, Enyd’s natural stamina stood in her favor. She remembered his warning, and never remained in once spot longer than half a second. Enyd imagined herself a whirlwind of action, determined to sweep Frank away out of a sheer frenzied barrage of attacks.

Fighting Enyd, so far, was like fighting a manic octopus. Though her punches were well-aimed and timed well, and her form reflective of being a quick learner, there was the caveat of her lack of experience and power. While she did land a few jabs against his gut, and one cross nearly got his chin, none of the punches packed the power necessary to do much more than tickle. At least not to someone like Frank. It seemed that the very advice he’d given her, to wear down her opponent first and then attack, was being turned on its head and she was going to wear herself out first.

Ring-wise and crafty, Frank maintained just enough distance to keep her chasing after him. He continued to lure her around the ring in a feigned retreat, allowing her to believ herself the advancing lead, while in reality she was only playing into his ploy. It was all about showmanship, and Frank intended on giving the spectators a good show.

Enyd tried another cross and caught wind. That was when Frank made his first strike. His quick jab into her solar plexus sent her clattering and sputtering across the mat. His left hook caught her blocking glove, knocking it against her face, and Enyd let out a gurgling groan. Enyd wheezed in another gasp when Frank’s quick, low right hook caught her in the side. Licking her lips, her mouth filled with the tang of salt. Only a few minutes into the match and she had droplets of sweat dotting her face. But Enyd felt her anxiety pour of her with every droplet that stained her clothes. As their waltz continued–perhaps Austrian as Frank preferred–the overhead lights flashed and glared in and out of focus as if in tune with Enyd’s pants.

Frank respected Enyd’s fighting spirit. She’d weathered his own “tickling” attacks far better than he’d expected. But Frank possessed fists of iron and after using the first few attacks as a plumb line, he now knew the strength necessary to make a dent against the diplomat. His breath hissing through his teeth, a strong left caught Enyd unprepared and drove her toward the ropes.

As she stumbled back, Enyd sucked in her breath, her hands lashing out in quick one-two jabs. But Frank was a master of space and time. He had more power and skill, and longer reach, factors he’d warned her about in their preliminary sparring. She stared at Frank from behind the curve of glove that blocked her face. Enyd noted the smile near hidden from within his salt and pepper bearded face. He was doing this for fun where she was doing this for therapy. Shaking herself, Enyd concentrated her gaze on the focal point between his furrowed brows.

Frank continued his advance. He was herding her as a dog might sheep, his feints working without challenge. And Enyd continued her retreat, her jabs, hooks, uppercuts all futile and now executed as if as an afterthought. Frank’s swipes and lunges were just close enough to get her to duck and shift in the direction he wanted. He blocked her efforts with ease, swatting away her gloved hands as one might a pesky fly. The dance, so energetically begun, seemed to be reaching its climax.

Frank had a killer instinct, and this was the instrument the drove the wheel of destruction in his favor time and time again. The edge of the ring was very close behind Enyd. He could sense her wavering attention. Pressing his advantage, his uppercut lifted Enyd off her feet and tossed her against the rope. When she turned, desperately clamoring at the rope to keep herself upright, Frank sensed panic grip her as if he felt it himself.

“Whoah now, easy does it.” Frank reached out to steady her until she was firmly planted again, fists automatic in their movement to block. “You certain you wanna keep going?”

Instead of keeping her eyes firmly planted on Frank’s form, gaging his ever shifting body to note where he might next strike, Enyd’s concentration wavered. She was both within the ring and above it, watching events unfold. She knew she needed to be out from under his pressure, the edge of the ring a dangerous place to be pinned. His swift uppercut caught her unawares and she was bodily lifted, tossed against the rope.

Her dazed senses swirling in seeing the edge of the ring looming and her friends lining it, more shadows moving among shadows, disfigured specters, Enyd faltered. Hissing a panted breath through her teeth, Enyd grabbed the rope as if it would keep her from falling into the pit she knew existed in her head alone. Through the tunnel of burgeoning fear, Enyd heard the claps and cheers of the spectators. Rearing back and stumbling to the right, Frank’s gloved hand steadied her, jerking her away from the panic.

She could only whine out a barely comprehensible phrase of acknowledgment to his question. The weight of her clothes seemed almost too much. She kelt keenly the tightness of her waistband and the scratch of hemlines. Fatigue gripped her. Her feet no longer rustling and shuffling as she “danced.” Instead, despite her well-intentioned efforts, her body plodded and swayed between the heavy thuds of Frank’s relentless hits.

After a few more “tickling” jabs, Frank took pity on the woman. If one could call it pity. His left jab caught her jaw, Enyd’s head cracking back and compressing her spine. His right uppercut met her gut, once more lifting her off the mat. His left hook rattled her brain, and his right cross once more smashed against her chest, throwing her off her feet. There was no stopping the sudden and immediate collapse. Her body slapped against the mat, bouncing from the mometum of his last punch, and slid a few inches from the slick sheen of sweat coating her skin.

In the stunned silence that followed her crumbling mass against the floor, Enyd convinced herself this was worth it. Her heart roaring in her ears, the vinegary scent of the mat filling her nostrils, Enyd dragged a gloved hand close. Her body felt as if lead itself were pumping through her veins.

Through the rusted burst of blood in her mouth, Enyd whispered, “Enough.”

Frank watched as a splatter of blood haloed upon the mat by her face as Enyd literally and figuratively tapped out of the match. He wasn’t one to beat a woman bloody and not lend a hand. Though he knew he was about to hear from that Andorian, Frank shuffled to Enyd’s side and bent to lend assistance in getting her out of the ring.

“You did good, Madsen.”

Enyd’s smile was blood stained but unabashedly bright with self-satisfaction. Frank let out a chuckle as they hauled themselves out of the ring and made room for the next pair.

That's right you did good Madsen, but I didn't even get to break a sweat.  Ah well, now where is that spirited Andorian that threatened me earlier ah ha! Frank thought to himself as he half carried, half dragged the semi-conscious Enyd with one arm around his neck, and another one around her waist.  The spirited Andorian in question scrambled on the mat and quickly moved to support Enyd from the other side as she grabbed the diplomat's other arm.  Heh, it can't be that bad if she didn't tell me to put her down right away, kinda reminds of that time when, ah never mind.  "Excuse me ladies, let me get that for you." And the engineer let go of Enyd, who seemed to be moving a little more under her own power as he went to pull the ring ropes out of the way and let the two women through.  He let out a little chuckle in appreciation as Zark bent over to deftly manoeuvre her patient through the gap with ease and led her down some steps she'd summoned on the way before bodily pulling his dance partner to a chair and gently dropping her in it.

With his two charges through, Frank slipped through the ring and hopped down "You know Madsen, you got some talent and with some training from yours truly, we can turn you professional, have to work on that stamina of yours though.  You look like that time I went 10 rounds with this Naussican....."  Uncharacteristically, Frank stopped when he saw the medic's head snap to him and though her face was set in stone, her eyes looked just short of harm, and her antennae were pinned against her head. "Oh! come on Zark!" Frank pretty said mock plaintively picking up right where he stopped as he spread his arms wide.
NPC'ed Frank with original writer's permission, with additional insight from new writer.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #31 –
[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

Attn: @P.C. Haring @Tae @BipSpoon @Ellen Fitz @Stegro88 @Dumedion @Auctor Lucan @ob2lander961

The endless tension came to an end as the bell rang and Zark's breathing became more shallow as she focused on the fight and suddenly Enyd burst forward in an all out assault against the big Chief Engineer.  A full fury attack could work, but it was usually when a bigger opponent would crowd a smaller one, not the other way around.  Frank Arnold did exactly what Zark would have done in the same circumstance, backed off and trade space for time for the opponent to wear themselves out.  Zark's trained eye saw there was talent that spoke of a life of violence in one shape or another, but it lacked the experience to know when to commit, and for the smaller opponent, this was way too early.  The blue green gaze shifted to Frank and she watched him just dance out of range of each strike.  When Enyd did hit, it didn't seem to faze him and she felt a grudging respect for bearded human.  He was tough. 

The Andorian's mouth and eyes tightened when Frank's counter smashed into the diplomat and she turned away to where Dr Leux lay while summoning a holographic PADD.  She quickly recorded a summation of the Doctor's injuries and treatment with an intense looking warning that he should have himself checked over again when he visited sickbay next.  Dropping the PADD on the semi-comotose Doctor, Zark grabbed her med bag and dashed out the privacy screen back to the fight and her heart sank, for although Frank seemed ready to just end it, Enyd did not and she looked terrible as her medical mind began to look at the pummelling she'd already received.  Zark couldn't stop it now as the engineer demonstrated his skills in corralling his opponent and Zark could see how precarious Enyd's position was becoming with each step.  "Enyd! Sidestep and get off the goddamn ropes!"  The medico yelled but it was to no avail as with Arven Leux, Enyd Madsen was too lost to something, and only the big man's steadying arm seemed to pull her back from a nightmare precipice, but not the fight itself and the pounding continued till Enyd took a rapid brutal combo that sent her smashing into the mat.

Zark's eyes were wide in shock at how brutal the fight had turned and she held a bated breath as the diplomat lay on the mat, slowly leaking blood.  Life was still with the human though as she weakly tapped out, and Zark let out a long breath as she leaned on the mat in relief.  Quickly regaining her senses, she vaulted on to the mat as Frank was busy carrying Enyd in her direction.  Rapidly slinging the near comatose diplomat's free arm over her shoulder, Zark moved quickly and with little horizontal motion to the ropes before the bloody human's whole weight was transferred to her as Frank moved to pull the ropes apart.  "Thea, gentle steps in front attached to the ring base to the ground." The medico commanded as she mentally thanked the engineer and smoothly guided Enyd through the gap.

When the combat medic reached the floor, she gently placed her patient in a chair and began her examination.  Frank had obviously caught up and was talking to Madsen.  When Frank tried to make light of the pounding he'd handed her, Zark felt herself become incensed at the apparent callousness and her head whipped around to glare at the engineer.  Furious blue-green eyes held the glare  for second before remembering that Enyd had asked for this and Arnold had made sure she was okay several times as he spread his arms, really wide.  Zark relented and shook her head, rage wasn't going to help anyone in this case and maybe the talk would be a good distraction.  "Sorry Chief, keep going, I'll stop you when I need to work on Enyd." Zark grumpily apologized as she moved to examine her tricorder and the list of injuries that could be detected and the one's she'd be guessing at as her body unconsciously began to relax.  She could be in much worse shape, at least there's no broken bones.   One of Enyd's eyes was swollen shut, the other one was following suit, there was blood streaming from her nose onto her white top, lips puffing from internal cuts, bruises galore all over.  "Okay Chief, it's time for you to leave, I have a patient to treat, and she'll be fine, just like that other idiot." and as an olive branch, she made a matronly shooing motion that resulted in Frank giving her a quip about bossy doctors and taking off his gloves to find a drink. "See you around Madsen, and thank you Miss Zark." and gave a jaunty wave before leaving.

The medico took stock and summoned a privacy screen before digging into her bag of tricks to get the diplomat all fixed up.  Grabbing a big cotton swab on a stick laced a coagulants and anti bacterials, cobalt hands held the humans head straight as she jammed the whole thing into the bleeding nose.  Next came and injection of pain killers and anti-inflammatories before the delicate part.  Grabbing the dermal regenerator and auto suture, the medico's face blanked as she began focusing on bringing all the swelling around one eye under control before moving on to the next.  Zark got part way before a glove swiped away the regenerator. "Hey! Enyd what are you.....?"  Then she saw the devilish light in those emerald eyes and a weak tug at the red lips.  The Andorian snorted as a crooked smile broke over her own blue face.  "Girl, you be crazy, I'm going to reduce it to a pretty shiner and that's non negotiable as are the cut in your lips, your swelling nose, your cheeks, and the bruises on your torso, some of them are pretty nasty.  The arms ones aren't that critical, so you can keep them, and I'll even be nice and let you keep the one on your jaw, maybe a cheek if I'm feeling generous. The rest go. Understand?"  Zark didn't even wait for a response as she got back to work.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #32 –
[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann & Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith"| Holodeck ] Joint-Post by Auctor Lucan & Nero
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For a second, the pilot was stuck in shock, not knowing exactly what had just happened. He listened when he heard his name called by the crier. He looked around and through a magically parting line of people found the face of the blue-skinned Andorian, who nodded at him with a dapper smile. The pilot raised his arms in the air and let out loud cries of joy. At last, it began. The taunts against Reggie were quickly forgotten. He accepted the challenge.

"Do you have any idea who you're messing with?" asked Zeke over his shoulder. Logan shook his head slightly. "Nope. No idea."
He heard a heavy sigh as the two made their way over to his opponent and a small shove prayer to the heavens. "Very well" Ezekiel said. "It’s your funeral. I'll go and collect for your tombstone then."

While donning her black gloves, Ida watched the Lone Wolf as he accepted the challenge, smiling a little at the antics of the pinkskin with the metal plating on his head. Noticing how he had a cybernetic contraption, and how it was likely a medical thing, she inclined her head towards it.

"Do I have to be mindful about that?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and antenna. "I'd hate to have to pull punches if you're not cleared by medical for this kind of thing."

Logan waved it off. "You don't have to worry about that," he tapped his implant. "It's already survived several g's of acceleration force, so it'll be able to take a hit or two. Besides, there's not much left to salvage anyway."

Chuckling, Ida acknowledged the answer with a nod and then looked towards the ring. Soon enough the ring was cleared for them, and it was their turn to step inside the ropes. Her movements were economical, without flair, and when she stepped to her corner, picking the blue one, she simply did some dynamic stretching of her shoulders and her legs, working some blood into them. When she felt loose enough, she threw a few rapid punches into the air, and she was satisfied that she was ready.

In the meantime, a hologram was announcing their fight. "Ladies and gentlemen, from the red corner - weighting 74.84 kg - it is Logan Hale, callsign 'Wraith'!"

The pilot fired up the crowd. As he did so, he jerked his gloved fists in the air several times and emitted more cries of joy. He liked it. The atmosphere was great, and the people were in a good mood. Tonight, they would all have a good time partying and blowing off some steam. Logan headed back to his corner where his best friend was already waiting for him. "Are you really sure you want to do this, Logan?”

"And from the blue corner..." the hologram said with a little wink to the audience, "of course, we have the Deputy, weighing in at 61 kg, it's Than'Ida zh'Wann!"

Humouring the event she'd chosen to participate in, Ida stepped forward and gave a wave to the audience with a black glove - a small smile touching her face. She was just hoping she'd remember some of the rules when it came to this Earthen sport...

"All right, then," Zeke sighed when Logan didn't answer him. "At least take care of yourself. Her kind is known for their power and strength. From what I've seen, she's right-handed. So, watch your guard on the right."

The announcer made room for the referee, who asked the two opponents to join him in the middle.

"I want to see a clean fight." he said in a heavy New York accent, typical of the late twentieth century Bronx. "No dirty tricks, you understand?"

Logan nodded curtly and used his tongue to push his mouthguard into place one last time. He thrust his gloved hands forward to greet his opponent. "I'm Logan, by the way," he mumbled. "Good luck."

"Ida," the Deputy replied in kind, before putting her mouthguard in place and gave a nod to the referee. She then raised her guard and began to circle her opponent - starting to read how he moved.

The pilot raised his fists and went into his starting position. He bobbed from one leg to the other. It almost looked like he was prancing. The two opponents circled each other once. Then a second time. Logan looked for a way to land a good punch. A professional boxer would surely have noticed dozens of possibilities. But Logan had to search a bit. As they both circled around each other for the third time he decided to try his luck and force an opening at her. Logan quickly brought his right forward, which as he had hoped, was blocked by the Andorian. This gave him the opportunity to strike with his left.

The reason the strike landed was that Ida's large gloves blocked her sight, so she didn't catch the punch in time to keep it entirely away from the side of her face. She'd intercepted it with her forearm, if belatedly, but since this was a game and not a real fight, it seemed her opponent got a point from his opening. Trying to keep herself from getting irritated by it, since it had barely grazed her, Ida went on the offensive instead.

The referee made his point count, but Logan had no time to listen to him, because he had to dodge the deft blows of his opponent. Zeke had been right. It was only thanks to his advice that most of her punches had passed in his guard. Logan kept his guard up and his eyes open. Punch after punch he fended off, allowing himself to be pushed further and further toward the ropes. Then came his chance. He ducked away to his left under her last punch, but before he could land a blow, the bell rang again, ending the first round.

Ida stepped away when the bell rang, shaking her head with a small smile of disappointment. She'd almost had him, about to hunt after him while he tried to retreat, but he'd been 'saved by the bell', like the pinkskins tended to say. First round finished, and while she'd been dealing most of the punches throughout it, the pilot had managed to block her, so she'd earned no points. She had been mindful about not sweeping his legs out or dealing any kicks against his ribcage, since that's what instinct told her to do, but she had to keep the rules in mind. As it were, she went to her corner and leaned back against the ropes - the overhead lights playing over the top of her chest while she caught her breath.

Saved by the bell, Logan thought. He almost was able to place another good punch, but time threw a wrench in his plans. He went back to his corner, where his best friend was already waiting for the amateur boxer. Zeke gave him water to drink and briefly massaged the pilot's muscles. It was more exhausting than he remembered. Logan had to breathe heavily.

"Your defenses seem to be working halfway, Logan. Keep your guard up and don't get provoked. Find the gaps and exploit them."
Logan nodded in affirmation. "What do you think I've been trying to do all this time."

"Round 2!"

When the call was made, Ida stepped away from the ropes and met her opponent in the centre of the ring once more. She'd given her tactics some thoughts, and began to feint her intentions by switching sides and hinting at dealing a couple of jabs at him. In the hopes to have unbalanced him, keeping him from anticipating her next move, Ida then feinted in a new direction before stepping forth and dealing a heavy uppercut. She was fairly confident that kind of strike was allowed, and she landed her first hit.

Realization was the first thing that flashed through his mind as he took the heavy uppercut. He realized that he had fallen for her feint and now had to bear the consequences. Logan lost his balance and went down. The referee awarded the point to his opponent. The pilot had to acknowledge that without envy. That was a damn good move, but it's not over yet. Logan quickly recovered and got back up. His gloved fist rubbed his chin. Now it was his turn.

Evidently, the pilot hadn't been discouraged by the momentary setback, and went on the offensive. Ida stepped back once, twice and a third time while keeping her guard up, but in the knowledge that she might reach the ropes soon, she anticipated the next strike and since she was acting on instinct... she ended up catching Logan's arm and spun around, throwing the pilot off his feet and straight into the ropes. Belatedly, as she used the opportunity to deal another strike to the pilots head, Ida realised what she'd done. She'd used the full momentum and weight of the pilot against him in the throw, and then caught him as he rebounded towards her fist. It made the punch she landed quite a bit more hard than she'd intended...

Just a moment ago, the pilot was standing in front of the Andorian, trying to reach a safe point with a well-aimed punch, and the next moment he was lying on the ground with a bleeding nose on the other side of his opponent. Ida's counterattack was unexpected and brutal. Any other fight would probably have been decided like this. But Logan was glad it wasn't any other fight. He certainly would have taken a few dozen more blows if it had been.

"Foul!" called the referee and pointed towards her. "One point reduction."

"Fair, my apologies," said Ida through her mouthpiece, and raised her fists again. She had to remember that this wasn't a real fight. It's just a game... Come on. Less instinct, more thought. Which, admittedly, was opposite of how she usually fought.

The referee helped the pilot up and asked if he felt able to continue fighting. Logan blinked his way through the disorientation, then nodded. Many would consider it foolish, and certainly they were right to do so, but Logan was not one to give up easily. Not anymore, at least. He didn't feel any dizziness or nausea, so he nodded to the hologram and fixed his own nose with a crack. A pained groan escaped through his clenched teeth.

The two opponents began to circle each other again. Logan managed to land a few good punches, just as the Andorian managed to land a few good hits on her part. Then the bell ended that round as well.

Logan went back to his corner and dropped onto the stool that had been placed there. Zeke took care of his nose in a makeshift manner. "Shit Logan, that looks really bad. You sure you want to keep going?" The pilot contorted his face painfully as his friend dabbed it with a towel. "Just need to take a breath. Then we'll move on."

Regretting having hurt the pinkskin, Ida was looking at her opponent from across the ring during the intermission. When he didn't meet her gaze, she walked over to him - making the referee raise his eyebrows at her. She was unaware if there were any traditional rules about interacting with the opponent, but rules be damned, she wanted to check on him since it was a friendly match. Her antennae and eyes were raised in query. "Are you okay, Logan? I'm sorry about that. Acted on instinct. Do you want to continue?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Logan replied through his teeth clenched in pain.

"Bullshit!", Zeke admonished him. "You're not fine at all." then louder, "Is there a doctor present?"

Logan looked at him incredulously. "It's just a broken nose. It's not the first time, Zeke. It'll heal up."

"Shut the hell up," Zeke now determined with serious concern. "I'll have a doctor look at that now, or I'll throw in the towel for you. Are we clear?"

Another incredulous second from the pilot. "Yes, Mom."

"Good."

An alley formed in the throng of the audience, and a person in an older version of the Starfleet uniform walked through it toward the ring. The man of human descent had long passed forty. He climbed through the ropes and knelt beside the pilot. His tricorder was about the size of a small suitcase, slung in leather, and hung from his shoulder by a strap. The man flipped open the lid and Logan realized that the doctor must have been from an era when the Enterprise carried only the letters NCC in its registry.

The doctor picked up the sensor unit and brought it close over the pilot's nose. He looked at the data on the small display of his archaic tricorder.

"Hmm... That's quite a break you got there, kid. It's nothing we can't fix, though. You'll be back on your feet and fighting in no time."

He turned away from Logan for a moment and raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Computer - Thea - hand me the osteo regenerator, please."

The medical device, sitting in a medkit, was beamed to the floor next to Logan. [Here you go, Doctor McCoy.]

It was good to see that the hologram of Dr. Leonard McCoy was updated with the current state-of-the-art medical database and that his appearance was only mostly cosmetic. The treatment didn't take long, and Logan was able to breathe normally through his nose only moments later. The pain was only a pale memory, and he was ready to continue the fight. Logan thanked the doctor and vowed to do a little reading up on him when he found the time. The doctor then disappeared back into the audience and the referee asked the opponents to return to the center of the ring.

The bell sounded for the third round, and Ida nodded, stepping away before the fight resumed.

Once again, the opponents lurked to find gaps in their opponents' defenses. Logan kept shifting his weight from left to right. Then came the exchange of blows. Both put their foot down and scored a few points. Slowly, Logan's more defensive fighting style pushed him back toward the ropes. But this time Logan was prepared and wasted no time. Just before he reached the ropes, he ducked under one of her punches and countered the attack with a quick jab.

The jab caught Ida, giving Logan one point, but Ida dealt a haymaker of her own that hit a fraction of a second afterwards. The force of the blow did not fully connect since the pilot was in motion, but at least she got a point of her own. It would not be fair towards the pinkskin to not do her best to win the match, not about to forfeit it because she'd hurt him before, so she gave pursuit without letting up - hunting him with a series of punches and jabs. She constantly had to remind herself not using her legs in her pursuit, however, since being female, she often utilised kicking. It was even one of the mainstays in Kharakom, which was the closest resembling martial arts she knew... so it caused some gaps in her combos.

That she didn't hold back, Logan had to grant her without envy. Yes, she had broken his nose and sent him to the boards by unfair means, yet Logan could see that she was trying to stick to the rules of the fight and not let him win because she felt guilty. She pacified him with a barrage of jabs and punches.

The pilot noticed a pattern, though. It was almost as if she was replaying a certain sequence of movements repeatedly. A few punches, then pause, a few punches, then another pause. It took Logan a moment to realize that the pause was to kick. So, Ida made an effort not to kick, which explained the pauses. This was his chance. Logan timed the next break in their program and countered it with a hard punch to the chest.

The counter came through and broke the consecutive attacks Ida had been dealing the pilot's guard. It caught Ida in the torso, making her take a step back and loose her breath a little. Once more, years and years of instinctual training kicked in, so when a new strike came high, she sank down and spun - sweeping out her opponent's legs from underneath him with her leg. Her eyes widened as she did it, realising belatedly that once more, she'd failed to adhere to the rules. Shelat!

"Foul! One more time and I am disqualifying you, Deputy. Two points deduction."

"Noted," she said, angry with herself rather than the regulations of the bout, but she reached down to help the pinkskin back on his feet. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Apologies, again..."

Logan had landed back on the boards, wondering if the stand-up man wasn't named after him when someone saw this fight here and traveled through time to the past. For the third time in this fight, he was on the floor, but accepted the apology from the Andorian as well and allowed her to help him back to his feet. Logan knew instinct when he saw it. It was no different with him. He often let his instincts guide him in the cockpit as well, which had gotten him into dicey situations a few times himself and was one of the reasons why Ezekiel Jackson no longer flew with him and had sought a safer job in flight control.

Logan let his head spin through his neck, welcoming the liberating crack of his bones. "No problem." he said curtly and returned to his starting position. Between the raised gloves he watched his opponent in whose skin he did not want to be now.
One more time they traded blows. Again, they tried to find gaps in each other's cover. Logan, however, was now going for a more aggressive approach and intensified his attempts to land good punches and jabs. He didn't want to be driven into a corner or the ropes again. He saw his chance coming and gave Ida an uppercut.

The uppercut broke up the momentum that Ida had utilised to drive Logan backwards, but he saw the strike coming and managed to way backwards in time to let the attack pass harmlessly in front of her nose. In dealing the punch, the pinkskin had reclaimed the initiative, and Ida was then forced to back away and be on the defensive. All in all, they both earned a few points from glancing hits when the referee blew the whistle.

The round ended and Logan went back to his corner. He sat down on the stool and awaited his buddy's biting comments.

"What's the matter, Zeke? Nothing more to say?"

"Nope." he said curtly. "You don't listen to me anyway."

"True."

"So, let's go, Logan."

"Let's do it." Logan smiled and considered getting the win by getting Ida to make another mistake and pick up her third foul. But something bothered him about the thought of winning by such an unfair means. No, Logan decided against it. He would not tempt her to foul. She deserved a fair chance. After all, they were just here for fun. It wasn't a real fight where there was no fairness. The fact that she faced this fight at all deserved recognition. Besides, he still wanted to be able to look himself in the mirror tomorrow, after the swellings on his face had subsided.

On Ida's part, she knew that if she let instinct guide her gain the pinkskin would win, so she had been more on the defensive than in earlier rounds. She'd worked up a good sweat, feeling it trickle down between her breasts and her shoulderblades, but the intermission allowed her to regain her breath. She picked up a towel and dabbed her brow, finding the lights above the stage too warm for comfort.

"Fourth round!"

Here's to a new one!, Logan thought and had gone to the center of the ring with his will strengthened again. Now that Zeke had stopped playing his conscience, the only thing that should really stand in his way was the blue-skinned woman. Now he just had to defeat her somehow and in a fair way.

Her blows came fast and hard. The pilot tried in vain to dodge them all or to counter them. For her part, she didn't allow many punches, but it was enough to give the pilot the opportunity to reach for her every now and then. Logan seized one of the few opportunities. He feinted a high blow, then quickly ducked, and delivered another blow to her torso.

The attack came right when Ida felt she had him where she wanted him to be, gaining points from the punches she managed to land with the over-sized gloves. She was wearing him out, she'd believed, until the point where he used an opening to strike towards her face. It was, however, a feint, and too late, she caught on to his real intent. With no time to think, she caught the blow by blocking it with her forearm. She spun with the block, back towards the opponent, and recognised how close he was and went with the only option available to her. Before she realised it, her elbow had connected with the side of Logan's head. The metal piece there cut her blue skin, and the sound of the impact reverberated in the air.

Logan was sure that he now had her where he wanted her to be and was accordingly surprised by her reaction. The sound of the impact echoed loudest in his head. Ida's instinctive counterattack caught Logan off guard. He let out a surprised sigh. All at once stars danced before his eyes and the force of the blow sent him crashing to the ground. His knees buckled and his legs no longer supported his weight. Only the fact that he somehow managed to support himself saved him from greater damage.

"Foul! You're disqualified, Deputy. The match goes to your opponent." The referee looked sour, and understandably so.

"Shelat!" Ida said out loud, ignoring the referee entirely, and went to Logan side - crouching down. She reached down with a hand to the side of his face and looked into his eyes. "Hey, are you okay? I am sorry. Are you hurt?"

The pilot blinked against the sudden brightness and had to orient himself for a moment. But after a few seconds, the spook was over. His implant had actually absorbed the greatest impact. He flinched a little when he realized how close Ida had come to look into his eyes. Though he smiled through red-stained teeth. "It's all right, Ida. Don't worry."

Logan tapped her forearm with his glove and felt more hands on his head a moment later. Ezekiel Jackson had rushed into the ring and was also worried about the pilot. "Fuck, Logan! Don't fuck around, dude!"

Logan wanted to stand up, but the people present would not allow it. Once again, Dr. McCoy was consulted and once again, he had to give him a hypospray. "Damn, kid!" he cursed as he checked the pilot with his ancient-looking tricorder for a concussion or worse. "Well, you’ve been bloody lucky there." He shooed the bystanders aside so his patient could get up and nodded to the referee. "Now get on with it! I want to see the next fight."

The referee didn't need to be told twice and grabbed the pilot's hand. "Victory by disqualification of his opponent: Logaaaaaaaaaaaaan Haaaaaale!"

After being ushered away from her opponent, Ida took her defeat gracefully. She didn't really mind the fallout beyond being irritated with herself for not being able to adhere to the rules and subduing her fighting instincts enough to participate without hurting someone. She didn't blame the rules, really, but she had learned the lesson that she far preferred sparring where you were allowed to kick and grapple as well. She removed her gloves and applauded her opponent along with the audience, a tight-lipped smile creasing her eyes. Overall, she was just glad the fighter pilot was okay.

The victory had a really bitter aftertaste and Logan didn't like that. Zeke hadn't left him out of the loop after the fight. He made sure the pilot didn't get another smack by having his Starfleet badge taken out of the lottery pot. Taking advantage of this moment of carelessness on the part of his best friend, however, the pilot worked his way through the crowd over to Ida, who had just made her way to the bar. "Hey Ida. Thanks for the fight, even if it didn't go the way we hoped. Can I still buy you a beer?"

The pinkskin wasn't rubbing in his victory, for which Ida was grateful, and since she had yet to order a refreshment, she took up the offer with a small smile and inclination of her head. "Sure, I'll have an Andorian ale, thank you. Also, my apologies. I am not used to rules that are so restrictive. I am glad I did not end up hurting you more than I did. No hard feelings?"

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #33 –
[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon  @Tae  @Stegro88  @P.C. Haring @RyeTanker

“Thank you, Mister Arnold.” Enyd’s voice was gravely and barely audible given their environment, but she sensed Frank heard her as he complimented her efforts before helping Zark pull her from the ring.

She felt the frustration and concern rolling off Zark as the medico worked to get her settled so she could see to Enyd’s injuries. An unwinded, unharmed, and likely amused Frank left her moments after Enyd was properly situated. Enyd listened to Zark dither about finishing her work on another patient, Arvo if Enyd remembered correctly, before returning to Enyd’s side. Her body hurt like the dickens. Even with Zark’s efforts, Enyd knew her body would be feeling this round for a bit. And that was precisely why she’d done this. So long as she felt the wincing pain of hard effort radiate through her body, Enyd could fight against old demons more readily.

When Zark made to completely eradicate evidence of the fight, Enyd swatted at her hands. Without having to stumble her way through an explanation, Zark seemed to understand the sentiment behind her protest and reassured Enyd of a few bruises and aches. Enyd responded with a weary grin, thankful for a friend who could be so understanding even if she didn’t agree.

“Thank you, Zark.” Enyd sighed as the worst of the pain dissipated under her care. “I think I’ll head back to my quarters for a nice long shower after this.”

Even with the medical aid, Enyd’s movements were a bit stiff as she rose to her feet. Without hesitation, she pulled Zark into a hug.

Whispering against her skin, “Thank you for not judging my brand of crazy,” Enyd lightly kissed her friend’s jaw below her ear as she pulled back. “See you later.”

Enyd took care to wave and nod at the other crew members in the room that she knew as she retreated from the ring and made her way back to her quarters. The demons had been beaten back and she could sleep at last in peace.
Exit stage right for Enyd in this thread.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #34 –
[ Ens. Via "DixeBee" Wix | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @BipSpoon @Stegro99 @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero @Dumedion
[Show/Hide]

As Via was puffing up her chest to literally anyone that was near her, she noticed her Flight Lead who seemingly noticed the rambunctious as well. Without Charles to keep her in check any type of customs and curiosities that she would've somewhat given to Reggie went completely out of her mind; Via was just happy to see her again.

She waved back with a somewhat childlike smile on her face, but before she made her way over to her she ordered 4 more bottles of Tequila from the bartender. As she walked Via was so excited- she bumped into several people and nearly tripped herself by the time she got there.

"YO, LT!!" She enthusiastically said followed by a burp. "Your ass needs to try this shit, REAL BOOZE!!"
Via held a Tequila bottle up like it was a display product.

"You never gettin' this shit anywhere. Do you know how long my ass been waitin' in a tight ass sickbay, just to try this shit for reals?!" She popped the bottle open and started chugging until half was left, the woman was just about on the verge of being drunk which made it all the more fun.

 "Anyyywho...why is you ass here?!" Via playfully chuckled "Tryin' to get up in people's guts?...wait...I mean gettin' into people's guts... no, puchin' people's guts...somethin'... fuckin', are you tryin' to beat someone's ass up?! ...Yeah that part, ignore my dumb ass earlier."

Via looked back at the fight in the middle of the space. "See I love this shit! Just fightin' with no worries. My dumb ass did that shit all the time when I was a kid. We just start fightin' for no reason and we always beat the livin' shit out of each other. I gotta get my ass in there..." She said followed by taking a swig from her bottle and looking back at Reggie.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #35 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @Nero @Ellen Fitz @Stegro88

Frank needed a few moments to himself and the Deputy fighting the Lone Wolf was a great time to do so.  He'd just made his way to the bar and ordered a red ale  and he leaned against the bar as the Andorian and Pilot began getting ready in the ring.  As he took his first chug of ale to quench his thirst, the bell rang and the two went at it.  Frank could appreciate that the two had some idea of what they were doing, but the Deputy appeared somewhat out of her element as several shots that should have been deflected got through.  Bushy salt and pepper brows furrowed in confusion since he expected better from security deputy.  As the round went on, the Andorian went all in. Frank noticed this mostly when he trained with Andorians that they tended to be quite aggressive, usually sacrificing some defence in an attempt to overwhelm their opponent.  There were times it worked, but it was a high risk high reward option that depended on knocking out the opponent quickly.  What could have been a nasty counter when she missed was stopped just as the bell rang and Frank smiled as he made his way over to a table closer to the ring and leaned on it to support his big frame.  He took a moment to see where Zark was treating Enyd and saw nothing, so assumed the medico was still at work on his sparring partner. 

Shaking his head as the next round started, his eyes were brought back by the sounds of shoes bouncing on the mat and settled himself for more entertainment. It soon seemed like the Deputy was operating somewhat out of her depth in the boxing ring and frank crow called good when the Andorian's training took over for an illegal strike.  The pilot didn't look as good with all the blood streaming down his nose. The engineer snorted as the referee made the necessary deduction in points and Frank was sure the fight had just gotten more interesting as Ida had exposed her inexperience at this sort of match, and he was sure this was going to weigh on the Deputy for the rest of the fight, affecting her fighting style.  There were some clean hits in the last two rounds, but Frank was quite sure that he did not want to fight Ida in her domain.  She'd had to think through her reactions instead of going on instinct and that had slowed her down.  What would happen to any opponent when she was left to her own devices in combat were amply demonstrated as the engineer winced at the resounding clang of the pilot being hit in the head before he fell to the ground. 

"Victory by disqualification of his opponent: Logaaaaaaaaaaaaan Haaaaaale!" the referee declared and the engineer clapped good natrudley as the two fighters exited with only physical bruises.  It had been an exciting fight if unorthodox, and Frank shook his head in disbelief once more.  Movement caught the engineer's attention and his blue eyes turned to the source as Enyd gingerly stepped out of the privacy screen with Zark in tow and stiffly made her way over holodeck exit.  Zark watched the woman go and seemed pensive before turning her head back towards the ring and surveying the scene.  The Andorian's blue green eyes locked with the engineer's blue ones and blue shoulder gave a shrug before a thumbs up was flashed in his direction and Frank nodded back before jerking his head towards the pilot and laughed at the woman's reaction.  The medico looked in the direction he indicated and sighed as she looked heaven ward in a universal sign of why me? as her shoulders visibly slumped and once again ran over to the pilot to begin fussing over him.

A boisterous call drew his attention and Frank smiled as he spotted the gathering of pilots with one very excited one in the bunch.  As he surveyed the crew, he noticed one in particular and a smile broke over his face as he made his way back to the bar first.  "Four Lagavulins please."  The bartender produced the requested drinks on a tray and the big engineer drained the dregs of his ale before snagging the tray of glasses and heading towards Reggie Suder's crowd and depositing the glass in the middle of the table.  "Reggie!  Good to see you here.  I say we've had a bit of spectacle so far.  The bossy doctor trying to treat one of your pilots over there is working way harder than she really should.  No sense of fun in her, but definitely knows her way around fixing a body.  Just saw Madsen walk out of here under her own power."  Looking at the two other people sharing the table with Reggie, Frank smiled at the two in welcome.  "Well ladies, I don't believe we've been introduced.  Frank Arnold, Chief Engineer, and this round's on me."  Frank handed out glasses of the ridiculously peaty scotch to the pilots and held up his glass in welcome to all.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

As the combat medic caught up to the weary but otherwise good spirited pilot, she just managed to run around him and a nominal superior of hers.  Since he seemed to be standing mostly fine and wasn't holding on to too much, the medico figured he would just have some bruising and looked at his face.  She knew it was rude, but her medical instincts had taken over and blue hands hands shot out, grabbing Logan Hale's head and firmly turning it towards her as she began to examine the pilot before releasing his head and whipping out her tricorder to scan him.  When she got the results, she shot both contestants a mild look.  Since she didn't know the human male too well, Zark addressed the Deputy first. "Ma'am, it could have been much worse, but he's got a bit of swelling starting under his metal plate.  All in all, a textbook strike to the head. Dead centre of mass I would say."  Turning back to the pilot, she gave him a crooked smile before giving her medical opinion.  "Mr.Hale, I'm XamotZark zh’Ptrell, or Zark.  I'm the ship's combat medic, and nice to meet you. Now, I'm going to give you an injection to bring the swelling in your head under control. You should be back to Eh-okay in 30 minutes or so.  In that time, no alcohol or synthehol or you'll wish the Deputy here had hit you in the head much harder.  I'm also gonna fix your nose properly.  Holograms are okay, but never as good as the real thing.  You're going to want to sit down for this."

Pulling out a hypospray, the combat medic jabbed the pilot in the side of the neck before grabbing a couple of medicine laced swabs. "Now, I'm going to yank on your nose on the count of three.  One, Two, Three.." and strong hands yanked eliciting a bit of a crunch.  Swabs rapidly followed and Zark silently sighed as she applied her medical skills once more making broken parts fixed and flawless once more.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #36 –
[ Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @RyeTanker
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"It's cool. No hard feelings." Logan replied to Ida's question, pleased that she accepted his invitation. He accompanied her to the bar and ordered her the desired Andorian ale and himself a beer of German origin. The holographic bartender performed some rehearsed hand movements and replicated both drinks underneath the bar. It almost looked like he was actually drawing a beer for the pilot and pouring the Andorian ale from a curved, bulbous bottle. With deft fingers, he placed the two full glasses on the counter. Logan handed Ida the glass of ale and himself the beer. He then resumed the conversation. "Yeah, I'm glad about that too, to be honest, and please don't feel bad. Things can't always work out."

They picked their way through the crowd to get to a free table. "Nonetheless, I thought that was a good..." The pilot didn't get a chance to finish as another blue figure already shifted into his field of vision and blue, cold hands waved in his face. His head was tossed rather ungently to the left or right. "Hey!" he cried out, startled as the strange Andorian let go of him. "What the..." She held a tricorder in his face. This time it was a modern model. Then she exchanged a few quick words with Ida.

"Can someone explain to me..." again he was cut off. The rude blue woman gave him a cocky smile before finally introducing herself and handing him a hyposray. She babbled something about a swelling in his head, but the only thing that really swelled was his anger. They got his beer out of his hand, but any complaining didn't help. With a hiss, the drug was injected. Logan wasn't even listening anymore when a sickening crack sounded as Zark pointed his nose.

"Ow!" roared Logan. "Damn you don't do that on three. Always on two or even one! Never on three!" Logan was pissed, to say the least. He lamented for a few more moments about how you never do a thing on three because it always gave the patient a chance to seize up. But finally, he focused on his beer again and the fact that he couldn't have any alcohol for the next thirty minutes. He passed the glass to Zark. "Well, at least drink the beer! It doesn't have to go bad." Then hissed a quiet, "Thanks I guess."

Logan held his nose and only now noticed Ida's amused looks. "Argh... Damn! That really hurt..."

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #37 –
[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero 
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After making their way to the table, the Andorian Ale in hand, Ida had seated herself and listened as the pinkskin pilot began to talk. Evidently, there were no hard feelings, and she was - however much risk she had put him in with her being so unaccustomed to the rules of the match - glad that he wasn't seriously hurt. Leaning back in her chair, she raked a few tresses of white hair back from her eyes, and sipped her drink. After the fight, her perspiration had left a soft sheen on her blue skin, catching the lights of the holo-program, and she wouldn't have minded a shower. The adrenaline had yet to thin in her cobalt blood, and she quite enjoyed the feeling the spar had left her in - any pending bruises aside. All in all, despite the loss and the shame over not being able to adhere to the rules, she had quite enjoyed herself. She had needed to let off some steam given all that she'd been through since they left Aldea.

The pinkskin was, however, interrupted by one of Ida's subordinates in the Security Department. Zark, the combat medic, clearly didn't trust the skills of the hologram, and went about treating Logan right there by the table. The scene rather amused Ida, smiling as she did where she at and sipped at her drink, and the reaction of the pilot caused her to chuckle and shake her head. At Zark's comment about the results of the blow to the pinkskin's head plating, Ida jested, shrugging with one shoulder in a gesture of mock justification. "By his word, before the fight, there wasn't anything to salvage in that head anyway."

Logan, of course, was rather mortified by the development, not liking the impromptu treatment one bit. Whether or not that was primarily due to being forbidden his drink or not was hard to tell, but at least he suggested that Zark would join them and imbibe the human drink. This beer that he had replicated and that, in Ida's regard, looked rather vile. Which, of course, made it all that more amusing.

"Aye, XamotZark zh’Ptrell, why don't you sit down and join us. The least you can do is to relieve this Lone Wolf of his drink and enjoy it in his stead," she said with a small grin, quite enjoying the development and certainly not minding the company of the other Andorian. "It can't be that bad."

Her reservations when it came to her own people were understandable, given her past, but this was a fellow zhen, and she had nothing in particular against those of her own biological gender.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #38 –
[ Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @RyeTanker
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"Oh, it's definitely not that bad," Logan said, playfully shaken, as Ida accused the beer of having a questionable taste. The cool glass, pearly yellow and the snow-white head. Logan could literally taste the bitter liquid. It pained him all the more that he would be denied this liquid gold. He pointed again to the empty seat at their table and again offered Zark to join them. He smiled. Logan appreciated what she was doing for him and dragging out this injury could have had cruel consequences for him. Not to mention that the Theurgy would then be missing one more ace pilot.

The pilot raised his hand and beckoned one of the holographic waitresses to join him. If he couldn't drink real beer, he would at least order a cool substitute for it. When the woman arrived, he simply ordered a non-alcoholic copy of his original drink.
"And isotonic, please."
"Sure." the waitress confirmed.

"Besides, it's like the deputy said," Logan picked up on his former opponent's statement with a smile. "There's not much left to break." He softly knocked himself on the implant, which, he had to admit to himself, was still very unfamiliar. With his jokes about it, he tried to normalize it to himself and others. It helped others not to perceive him necessarily differently than before. But he still had a hard time getting used to the sight. Logan shook his head, shooing away the thoughts that were about to rise inside him. His smile returned at the same time as the waitress brought him the non-alcoholic, isotonic beer.
"Fräulein Doctor, may I?"

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #39 –
[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@BipSpoon @Auctor Lucan @Nero @Tae @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @P.C. Haring

"Danke Herr Hale, Frau zh'Wann." Zark replied immediately without thought as she planted her shapely posterior into the indicated chair with some relief.  So far there had been lots of fighting, and in many cases, a goodly amount of repair work being done.  The combat medic's ear was giving warning signs that the night wasn't quite over yet, but as long as the breakage was kept to the current levels, she should be able to manage.  Picking up the glass, she gave the Lone Wolf a wan smile and clinked his now abandoned glass to the newly arrived non-alcoholic version before doing the same to the Deputy.  Tilting the sweating glass to her blue lips, the quenching relief rolled over her tongue and down her throat.  A well balanced medley of bitter, cereals, and hoppiness pervaded her taste buds.  The moment was over suddenly as Zark finished her sip and smiled in appreciation at Logan Hale's choice of beverage.  "Not quite the same as an Oktoberfest, but it still goes down quite nicely.  Thank you Mr. Hale."

Still there was something missing, and Zark signalled a waitress over.  "Uhmmmmm, can I get a sausage platter with a basket of pretzels please?"  The waitress nodded and smiled before running off to collect the food items.  Zark knew she was somewhat unusual in terms of her food taste, but she appreciated the right food going with the right drink.  It was just one of those things that clicked well for her, and since they were all technically on leave, it was a good chance to enjoy the variety while she could. Turning to her fellow Zhen, Zark gave her trademark toothy smile. "I usually spent the academy breaks on Earth, so I picked up a lot of the culture as I went.  My bagpipe teacher even said I was a Celt that had been born on the wrong planet."   Exposed blue shoulders shrugged at the silliness of the statement.

Holographic service was quick and the waitress placed a paddle shaped wooden board with six varieties of sausage, whole grain mustard, and a weaved wooden basket with big bready pretzels, and several small dishes with cutlery in the middle of the table.  Zark smiled in delight and clapped her hands together before splitting the dishes and cutlery.  "Help yourselves." and she immediately speared a few pieces of sausage onto her plate before spooning out some mustard and snagging a pretzel.  With a plate properly assembled, Zark dipped a piece of meat into the mustard pile and dropped it in her mouth before chewing.  Hunger temporarily sated after swallowing, the medico decided to let the Lone Wolf know how lucky he'd really been. "I think the Deputy realized what she was doing at the last second and pulled the strike.  If she had gone full out on you, I'd either be scraping metal and brains off the ring, or more likely you and I would be in sickbay with you preparing to go into surgery and me explaining why you had to go into surgery in the first place." Zark shrugged again.  "Meh. No one really got too hurt, so all's well that ends well.  Y'all oughta eat ya know.  We oughta enjoy being here today."

As Zark nibbled on her pretzel, her ears perked up and her antennae turned towards a table where the Chief Engineer was standing.  Her eyes focused on the table where he was having drinks with several women, and a platinum eyebrow rose in the Vulcan style as she spotted Via being herself and had to wonder what mayhem would ensue.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #40 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy] Attn: @ob2lander961 @RyeTanker @P.C. Haring (aaand everyone else)

Having barely made her own approach to Suder before being followed up by the severely intoxicated and confusing fellow pilot, Talia had been forced to switch her attention to the petite brunette with the colorful mouth, frowning in confusion at her slurred and unpredictable speech patterns.

She's so wasted I need a translator, she smirked with amusement as she shook her head subtly. Pilots were a rowdy bunch by nature – coming from all types of backgrounds – so she didn’t judge the girl for blowing off steam; that didn’t mean she'd humor her either. Just be nice, or try to, she told herself.

Thankfully she didn’t have to engage the girl directly as she rambled on about her youthful forays of violence to Suder, which Talia couldn’t really decode as truth or drunken boasting. Perhaps a bit of both, she lifted a shoulder, dismissing it as irrelevant. People were different creatures while intoxicated – her father had taught her that. Talia just buried her fists in the pockets of her hoodie and took in the crowd, wondering when her name would be called to fight. She noticed the previous fighters and a few more historically famous holograms as she waited, listening to the background noise of chatter and music.

Then the burly form of the bearded fighter from the previous match approached with drinks, which he sat upon the table before them; Talia offered him a shy smile and a quick nod in greeting, shifting her weight to one leg in her loose sweats as she pulled the sleeves of her white hoodie up to her elbows. Getting warm in here, she huffed the dark bangs from her face, not used to being around so many people.

After picking up a glass in response to his toast, she took a quick sniff. “Thanks, Frank,” she murmured, after taking a sip. Scotch, she groaned inside, but swallowed. “I’m Shadow,” she coughed slightly as the liquid burned her throat. “Freshly thawed addition to the Wolves. This is…”, her voice trailed off as she gestured to the inebriated brunette across from her. “What is your name again,” her eyebrows met in confusion, as she honestly couldn’t remember the girl saying it – or make heads or tails of much else she rambled on about – since she hadn’t really been listening.

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #41 –
[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero @RyeTanker 
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While Zark definitely seemed to enjoy the Earth beverage, Ida knew well enough that she didn't, having spent years on Earth as well during her time in Starfleet Academy. Indeed, the Combat Medic even seemed to have picked up one of the less common languages of Earth, since she and the pilot exchanged a couple of phrases that the UT didn't quite catch for Ida. As if that wasn't impressive enough, culturally speaking, her fellow zhen even knew about some festival, which Ida vaguely recalled originating from the part of Earth known as 'Europe'.

"Shelat," she said with a raised eyebrow and a chuckle, having returned the toast, "now I feel like an uncultured klahz."

The conversation shifted back to the end of the fight, in which Zark believed that Ida had pulled her strike short, and how that was the only reason the Lone Wolf was still standing. That may have been the case, with an actual fight having been fought quite differently, but Ida didn't find it an excuse for her lack of overall restraint. She cleared her throat and felt like she ought to add a comment on it all, even though she wasn't making any excuses for what she'd done. "If anything, I have come to understand that I need to practice this manner of fighting, where there are rules and limits."

She shrugged with one bare shoulder, looking at her blue ale. "Over the course of the past six months, I have been involved in too many skirmishes where my life and the lives of the crew hung in the balance, so the conditions of this match was something I've grown unfamiliar with. Hand-to-hand combat is something I learned in the Andorian Guard, and further honed in Security, but this long mission has forced me to embed all those teachings into my instincts, so that I have them readily available at a moment's notice."

Looking up with a lopsided smile, Ida took a deep breath. "I also admit that I am a bit on edge due to the last couple of missions and tasks that I've dealt with, and I apologise that you ended up a victim of it all, Logan Hale. My intention in coming here was to take that edge off my demeanour, but I had no intention of breaking the rules or hurting you as much as I did in the process. My apologies, once more." After a moment of thought, introspection, Ida raised her glass in another toast. "We're still here, nonetheless. Courage is fear when it has said its prayers. To being alive, despite the odds."

Drinking her ale, Ida then reached for a pretzel... politely nibbling one even though it wasn't kind to her palate.

OOC:
Shelat = Shit
klahz = Andorian animal known for its careless way of moving

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #42 –
[ Ens. Via "DixeBee" Wix | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @BipSpoon @Stegro99 @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero @Dumedion
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"Uhhh...." Via sat there for a good couple of seconds trying to remember her name. She was quite drunk now and it was only going to get worse as the evening progressed. "Via...Via Wix...oh, well my ass plays her on a forum-based roleplay server." Via gave a blank look and then laughed.

"Shut your asses up, I am jokin' I ain't into that nerd shit. My name is Via though." Looking at Talia, Via took a sip of her tequila and then looked at Frank. She went back and forth several times before looking at Reggie. Via bit her lip, took a glass of scotch that Frank ordered for them, refiled her tequila with it, swished it around, and took a massive swig, wincing as the mixture burned her throat and insides. She placed her drink on the table and then looked at Frank and Talia once more...she finally spoke.

"Ok! H-Hear my ass out. I've been thinkin' for a while now. Done some of that tactical anal-sis-anal somethin' I don't fuckin' know, and I think...hear me out- shhhh." She took another swig of her drink.

"I think...." she chuckled before burping grossly.

"I THINK!!" she hiccup.

"FUCKIN! Fuck me...I THINK your asses are brother and sister." Via said smirking, feeling proud of herself making a drunken, probably false, observation.

"Oh shit, my bad...grandpa and granddaughter." she looked at Talia. "I-I mean…fuccck, both your asses look buff as shitttt! Probably drinkin' some of that nasty get strong quick Ferengi scam that's been goin' around…uhhh ‘Buffoo’. Shit I mean, if you got bars of latinum to waste might as well put them on the table and hand them over to me, especially after I beat your ass in that ring over there and our old ass grandpa gotta take your ass back to sickbay`` She let out a loud burp again.

Via knew what she was doing, even drunk she said she wanted a fight so she was going to get one. She didn’t care if she won or lost just that she had a bunch of fun and got to stretch her legs a bit…but most likely she was going to lose. The pilot was fit enough mostly due to genetics, but she was nothing compared to Talia whom she just made the offer to. Via laughed and then rubbed her head. “Wait…whos’s your ass again?” she asked Talia

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #43 –
[ Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @ob2lander961 @RyeTanker

This is why I never go out, Talia sighed to herself, almost immediately regretting her decision to engage the drunk. As…Veuuh? Vauuuh? Viaah? Whatever her name was fumbled through introducing herself, then somehow came up with the idea that Talia and Frank were related – Talia’s face went from bored indulgence to confusion to rolling her eyes as she shook her head in disbelief as all present shared confused chuckles. But calling her out like that drained what little amusement she felt at all – because now she was hemmed in with two options.

She could just walk away and chalk the whole thing up to booze and leave it at that; or engage, knock the senseless girl out, and carry her ass back to her room. Each had consequences that she wasn’t thrilled about. She couldn’t stand the thought of appearing weak, yet she had no desire to fight someone who could barely fight gravity. She mulled all this over as she took another sip of scotch – then reached a decision.

The hell is wrong with her, she wondered, narrowing her eyes at Via, brows knit as she frowned. Oh wait - she’s drunk. Well, there was no use reminding Via who she was; the girl was so lit she probably wouldn’t remember anyway. Why does this shit always happen to me? Because I lift? What the fuck.

Talia simply downed the rest of her scotch then crossed her arms as she shifted her weight to one leg, turning her head slightly to quietly address Frank. “This is Via,” she shrugged, “apparently she wants to fight me,” she said flatly, her eyes and tone revealing to him how little she was concerned about actually fighting her. “And you just got yourself a new nickname, Gramps. Congratulations," she smiled thinly.

Not exactly what I had in mind when I walked in here, she sighed again, before she continued, loud enough to be heard over the music and crowd. “If by some miracle,” she rolled her head and eyes back to the drunk, “you manage to stumble your bony ass in that ring,” she smiled, “I’ll do everyone a favor and put you to sleep. You could use a nap,” she finished, dropping her arms to unzip her hoodie, pulling it from her body, leaving her in just her sweatpants and sports bra. Dropping it into her gym bag, she kicked it over to Frank. “Mind keeping an eye on this,” she arched a brow at him with a smirk as she reached up to retie her hair in a loose ponytail, rolling her eyes again after glancing at Via. “I’ll buy you a round in a minute or two.”

If she even lasts that long.

Ready to get the task over with, she turned back to Via. “Oi, drunkems,” she barked, pounding the table to get her attention – rattling the empty glasses and bottles. “Yallah,” she gestured to the ring, then waited to see if she'd actually make it. "That means let's go," she clarified slowly, as if to a child, leaning towards Via with her hands on her hips.

Maybe it was the scotch. Maybe it was the anticipation for putting the loudmouth on her ass. Maybe it was just the thrill of doing something new. Whatever it was, despite how much she didn’t like the circumstances, Talia couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

OOC: AL, if you have a humor award, just give it to Obby already :)


Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #44 –
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@P.C. Haring @ob2lander961 @Dumedion

Frank had seen plenty of characters in his time, and any organization generated it's share.  Sometimes, they'd been steeped in sin for so long, one wondered how they were still in uniform.  Other times, like now, it looked like they had the makings of one and only time would tell how they turned out.  The smaller tequila smashing woman looked to be more of the latter variety as she boisterously declared nonsense left and right, much to the bearded man's amusement. Good to know my ass is still in good shape, even after all the sitting around I do.  Grandpa and grandaughter??  That's a new one. The Chief Engineer merely smiled as he took another sip of his scotch and he looked at his co-misidentified victim.  Talia didn't seem to take it too well as she downed her scotch quickly, always an impressive feat with something this peaty, and Frank felt his eyebrows rise in response.

Frank snorted out a chuckle as Talia stripped and kicked a gym bag that she wanted him to watch.  He took another sip and shrugged before nodding.   As the muscular pilot aggressively tried to draw the drunken pilot's attention, the engineer had to bring his glass to his lips to cover a smile.  Conventional wisdom suggested , what was her name, right, Via was going to get the pulp beaten out of her.  Blotto drunk on Tequila and Scotch, and barely able to stand up, but surprises could occur, so Frank held his counsel and kept an eye on the two. 

The Chief Engineer kept his eyes on the general direction of the ring as he spoke to Reggie.  "Interesting crew you got here.  I'm guessing a couple of the new pilots that need to have their differences worked out, though this one" the index finger from his glass hand pointed at the boisterous Via "seems to be having an amazing time.  Hard to tell what she'll do since she's more plastered than anyone I've seen in a while." Another longer sip as he worked the flavours of the Scotich in his mouth.  "Seems like she's got some moving to do towards the ring before they start slugging away at each other, so how's life been treating you Reggie?  Much happier to be back in the cockpit?"

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #45 –
[Reggie Suder | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy ] attn: @ob2lander961‍  @ry‍  @Dumedion‍ 

Reggie had been content to watch the proceedings from the background.  For all the time she'd spent at the front of the pack drawing attention to herself to past few days, she was more than happy to  take a back seat and spectate this one.  And what she'd seen had not failed to entertain. her. 

She watched the fight between Arnold and Enyd, as well as the one between Wraith and zh'Wann to say nothing about the verbal sparring between Shadow and DixieBee some of which came at Frank's expense as DixieBee seemed to be drawing comparisons between Shadow and Franks respective Asses.

Reggie chuckled to herself at Franks comment and took a drag on her cigar .  "Something like that, I suppose," she replied to Frank.  "I don't know Al-Ibrahim all that well yet, but Via flies the four slot on my wing.  Had a training run with her this morning.  She's going to be a credit to the squad, both in an out of the cockpit."

She reflected on that for a moment, enjoying just how much of the 'work hard play hard' attitude she'd once had herself was apparent in Via.  Sure that attitude still existed for Reggie, but the years and, yes, her age had tempered some of that energy.  To a certain extent it reinvigorated her to see the unyielding, potentially naïve energy of youth back on her wing.  But at the same time, Reggie could only how that when...not if...Via had that experience...that one experience that changed everything, that the young woman wouldn't crash and burn.

"I have to say it's damn good to be back in the cockpit. "

She took a sip of her own drink. 

"Hey listen, I wanted to thank you again for earlier today.  I," she let out a sigh, "I needed that conversation.  Far more than I realized."

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #46 –
[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@Nero @Auctor Lucan

Zark's attention was brought back to zh'Wann and the one Zhen looked at her fellow Zhen as she munched away on a piece of Nürnberger and sipped more beer before sighing and signalling the waitress over again, ordering a hari for her boss.  "Good thing we have replicators or I'd be scolding you for wasting food."  Zark told zh'Wann mock tartly before adding a belated 'Sir' to the end.  The junior officer took another sip of beer as she regarded the number 2 security woman and found a significant number of similarities though the stress of being on the run had definitely taken it's toll by the seemingly permanent furrowed look the Deputy had on her face.  Waaaay too much stress. Zark's fork began twirl in a narrow circle in the air as she spoke.  "Sir, if you don't mind me saying, I know there's different methods of blowing off steam, and beating the stuffing out of something is definitely one way to do it.  But with Mr.hale here as an example, there's only so many times you can do that before either you or someone you know or care about gets hurt in the process.  In the end, while relieving, it's not the only method to find some relaxation to take the edge off." 

Zark's mind went over several different possibilities quickly before she began speaking again.  "If you really want a free for all, then you and I could square off, not today but definitely back in the gym of the security centre.  I think people are going to be placing bets on who will come out on top of that one." The fork came down and started gently tapping on the plate as a grin broke out over the prospect of that competition.  "Otherwise, there's always the holodeck for those nice little spas along Lake Thalassa, or the ones in the caves of the Weyzhiss Mountains.  Maybe a nice massage and some time in the hot springs?"  The medic's smile continued to spread as she thought more about actually recreating those places with some of the wonderful restaurants.  Zark's thoughts reversed as she sighed, her thoughts wandered into how long it would be before she would be able to go home and experience those delights once more, but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside as a promise to herself to survive this confrontation and experience those wondrous locales in person.

Zark shook her head as her attention was brought back to the present.  A very muscular pilot made her way over to the ring after yelling at Via and Zark had to wonder what the fun yet foul mouthed pilot had gotten herself into though she didn't quite seem to be in a rush to get there.  The medic took another sip of beer as she turned her smiling attention to Logan.  "What do you think Logan?  What do you do to relax and what would you recommend the Deputy here try out?"


hari = Andorian Flatbread

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #47 –
[ Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @RyeTanker
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Logan also raised his glass and toasted Ida's words. He had listened patiently and somewhat thoughtfully to her remarks. The pilot remembered an old saying that his father had once given him: 'He who has only a hammer sees only the nail in everything.'
Ida apologized to him, and Logan's eyebrows furrowed in amazement. Logan became Ida's outlet for her pent-up anger and frustration that had been building up lately. There was nothing to sugarcoat. He had taken quite a beating, and if it hadn't been for Zark, he probably would had to spent a night or two in the infirmary. Nevertheless, Logan felt no anger or even rage towards the Andorian. Logan also tried to escape his demons. Today, he had done quite well. The distraction and the beating he had taken were doing him good in an absurd way. The human leaned back in his chair.
"Apology accepted."

Logan smiled as Zark reprimanded her boss for wastefulness and joined in ordering a hari. "I think it's fair if I at least have a taste."
Zark explained to the Deputy Chief of Security why it was important to get a proper rest and that there were plenty of opportunities aboard the ship to do so. She also offered herself as a sparring partner and talked about how there was surely someone who would bet on the outcome of this fight. Logan would and he was already calculating the various odds and quickly found a favorite on which he would bet his money, or rather his hard-earned replicator rations. In his mind's eye, he already saw himself as the promoter for the fight and was already organizing the first celebrity guests. Logan wondered if he could manage to get Nanietta Bacco personally to attend this historic fight. That would be a thing, with that he could eclipse the fight itself. No, he shouldn't be so bold as to steal the show from the two of them. After all, he would still have to work with both of them later, and Logan was a bit more attached to his life than to the possible fame he could reap with such an action, after all. Although...

The waitress brought the flatbread and Zark asked Logan how he liked to spend his time relaxing. Logan shrugged his shoulders and tore off a piece of the bread. For a moment, he considered. "To relax, I like to meet friends for a beer or two and stretch my legs," he smiled as he leaned back in his chair once again and took another sip of his beer. "But mountain biking is a classy pastime too, right..." An idea occurred to him. "Ida, have you ever flown in a fighter?"

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #48 –
[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero @RyeTanker 
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After inclining her head, in both gratitude and acknowledgement towards Logan's acceptance of her apology, Ida turned her head towards the Combat Medic to hear her suggestions on alternative means to take the edge off post-missions. She found it a bit counter-intuitive that Zark suggested she'd beat the crap out of her, merely on the premise that it might be a more even fight, when she had - in the breath prior to that - implied that there might be better ways to achieve the same kind of release. Ida just chuckled, though, and sipped her drink. The holodeck sounded like a more prudent option, and one she had already utilised.

"I do utilise the holodeck from time to time, for sparring different kinds of species and to hone my skills with and without a phaser," she admitted, and tilted her head a bit thinking about the other kind of distractions Zark suggested. "As for spas... Well, I didn't have to use the holodeck to recuperate during our shore leave at Aldea. I think that as exiled as I may be from my Keth back home, my fondness for the cold still outweighs my acceptance of heat. For Andorians, hot baths are an... acquired taste, and not one I have grown fond of. I never even took a dip in the hot springs of Theta Erudani IV when the Theurgy hid there for repairs - after the first battle with the Calamity - even when most of the crews of this ship as well as the Harbinger enjoyed it. Shelat, they even built a floating bar there, so that the crews might enjoy R&R between repair shifts."

Oh, she had visited the hot springs, but never stepped inside them. Instead, she remembered her little... rendezvous with Edena Rez - the former host and First Officer.

That was when Hale broke her train of thought with a question about having flown in a warp fighter, and her antennae rose.

"Oh, no, I think that is as far from my comfort zone as I could possibly get," she said with a quiet laugh, shaking her head, "I mean, trapped inside a small hull? With just some see-through canopy between me and certain death? Putting my life into the hands of a Lone Wolf, who is out there specifically to challenge the odds in ways that a large starship can't, and shouldn't, for sake of a tactical edge? Being at the mercy of some daredevil in the pilot seat who gets a thrill out of defying death? How do you reckon that would be as relaxing as a day at a spa at Lake Thalassa? No, I think you and I - Hale - have vastly differing opinions on the nature of recuperation. Thank you, nonetheless."

Taking another sip from her drink, she did elaborate on her other uses of her spare time. "I paint... when I am visit the holodeck. I have since I was little. I have a whole gallery of holo-paintings, and even more pieces in m quarters. I find relaxation in sketch work and stencils, and when the mood strikes me, I put oil to canvas. I channel my emotions into my artwork, and it has sustained me for these past six months when other diversions may have failed me. So," she said and glanced Zark's way, "I have other means to 'expel my demons', as they pinkskins tended to say in the Academy. Tonight... was a welcome diversion of a more... primal nature. Yet what about you two?"

She leaned forward, drink in hand and white eyebrows raised. "How do you guys prefer to take the edge off?"

Re: Day 06 [1700 hrs.] The Dance

Reply #49 –
[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]    @Nero @Auctor Lucan

Blue green eyes turned back to the Lone Wolf "I'm gonna have to agree with Deputy on the flying the fighter.  I have too many people shooting at me while wearing armour of some sort.  Doesn't always work and there's little armour on a fighter as it zips around at too ridiculous speeds for me to find the whole notion 'exciting'.  I'll leave that to you pilot dare devils.  Exposed blue shoulders shrugged.   "Going down on a shuttle to Qo'nos was unpleasant as is and I was a passenger that time as well." Zark shuddered, not entirely theatrically at recalling that experience.

Looking to get back to happier circumstances, Zark smiled at zh'Wann and smiled at the suggestion that hot springs were an acquired taste for Andorians since she had to agree with that assessment.  "I think you missed out before you had to leave home though." The medic turned to the pilot as she twirled her clean fork around in her fingers.  "I'm wondering if the deputy likes it colder than most Andorians and we do like it cold.  You see, at Lake Thalassa, the water is supposed to have restorative properties"  The medic shrugged again as she'd read the literature on it and found the idea doubtful. " But they heat pools of lake water to the point where most species consider the waters be abooouuut room temperature I think is the term, so not bad for us."  Zark waved the fork between herself and zh'Wann for clarification before she her head turned back to her boss.  "There's a portion of the Weyzhiss Mountains that's high up, open air really, where it's just warm enough to get a balance of heat from below, and cap melt running into the pools.  Nature at it's finest!"  Zark happily declared before her face turned more serious.  "Anyway, if pools of warm slash hot water aren't your thing, there's always the massage rooms."  Zark smiled once more as she let the hedonist aspect of her personality surface. "There are some fine examples of handwork locked away in the computer, and if you prefer a real person, I did learn a thing or two at nursing school." The medic waggled her fingers at zh'Wann for emphasis as a smile split her face and her antennae pointed generally at each other. "It would be a purely therapeutic treatment of course."

The medico tapped her chin with the bottom of the fork for a minute as she considered what were her other recreational activities that she did for relaxation.  "Well, where you paint, I play music, usually the bagpipes, but if I want something softer, it's the highland flute.  Zark turned to Hale for a moment as the antennae made a more definite movement to point at each other.  "I'm strange that way, I know. Uhmmmmmm then there's hockey and volleyball, theeeeennnn cooking, or just food in general.  Terrible baker though.  I think it's because I dislike following recipes to the letter."  The medic shrugged as she speared another piece of sausage and washed it down with more beer.
 
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