PHD #263: You get Popped, and I get Hosed
You get Popped, and I get Hosed
Summary: Khloe and Andrea have a civilized discussion of decorum concerning the contents of Khloe's locker.
Date: 17 November 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Andrea Khloe 
Athletics Area
A large pair of mats dominates the center of this room, their centers taped-out for a small area to practice boxing or other martial arts. Around the outside are treadmills, bikes, weights, and an impressive variety of gym equipment to help tone and shape the bodies of the crew. To one side of the room is the locker room while at the rear is a hatch that leads back to the oversized swimming pool. Off to the side is a rack that holds boxing gloves, pugil sticks, and the associated pads for the sticks.
Post-Holocaust Day: #263

The Athletic Area is mostly empty at this time of the shift, with the exception of Andrea standing in the middle of the ring, throwing a flurry of punches at no one in particular. Frakking Spiral. Shaking her head to clear it, Andrea keeps shadowboxing, moving, noting how her muscles respond and pushing them further. She is in much better shape then when she'd first been rescued, and getting better all the time. Move, punch, move, flurry, move. Frakking Spiral.

A storm named Khloe comes stalking into the athletics area, although she's not dressed for the occasion. She's wearing her uniform blues, but the uniform is barely buttoned, open several buttons down from the shoulder. Difficult to tell if she's more ripshit angry than usual, but when she arrives she just… paces. Every so often she stalks past the hanging bags and throws an angry fist at it.

Andrea turns as the storm blows through, and walks to the side of the ring, leaning a bit on the top rope while she takes a breather. "Cap'n. Looking for a bulkhead to walk through?"

Khloe pauses in her tracks, looking up sharply at the ring. Blink. "Hosedown. Sorry, I didn't think anyone'd be here at this hour. I'll frak off and find someplace else." Almost self-conscious now that she realizes she's being addressed by one of her sticks, and her uniform isn't perfect, she begins to button up, walking for the exit as she does so.

Andrea wipes her brow, then speaks up again. "If you are looking to improve your mood, sir, I'd avoid the berthings for a bit. They are not particularly… calming… at the moment." She tilts her head. "What's wrong, sir, if I can ask?"

"Nothing. Everything." Khloe shakes her head, although she stops her hasty retreat. "Finding that my head needs some decompression lest it might explode. My first combat command and someone dies. And then I'm confronted with officers that I know are good soldiers and yet they whine about how much their life is so frakking hard. None of that matters anymore!" Her foot connects solidly with a medicine ball, which doesn't move very far, but it certainly makes a satisfying 'smack' sound as she does so.

Andrea laughs, the sound is bitter. "At least everyone is willing to accept you for human until you give them reason to think otherwise. The asshole with the most reason to vouch for me keeps me well assured that he'll shoot me in the back if he even imagines a reason, and given the source, he'll probably imagine a reason." She shakes her head. "Gods damn it, I swore I wouldn't let him get to me anymore, but I just want to bash his head in."

Khloe tilts her head to the side with curiosity, her own problems momentarily stowed. After all, Hosedown's under her command. "What's this, now?" She asks, stepping closer to the ring. But she does finish buttoning up.

Andrea looks up, a bit startled. She legitamately seems to have forgotten that Khloe was there. "It's nothing, sir. I'll handle it on my own. Can't go crying to momma bird everytime a mean wingman won't open the door for me." She glances around her, looking for a change of topic.

"Mean wingman?" Khloe queries, not understanding what she meant. Up until today, her official wing assignment had been to Lucky. But, with the Aerilon skirmish, that's no longer.

Andrea sighs. "It's nothing, sir. Honestly. Look… I have an idea. We both need to vent." She gestures to the gloves hanging near the ring. "Glove up. I'm getting tired of shadowboxing. Let's just beat the frak out of each other for a little bit, eh?"

The notion is tempting. Khloe looks as if she's about to accept, but she shakes her head. "I'm not attired properly, and I have no gripes with you, Hosedown. I don't think it would be fair, especially since I'm your commanding officer. It's not like this is an official Dance or anything."

"Not fair?" Andrea gives a grin that Khloe may be coming to know… the eltee is not on her best behavior. "Allow me to assure you, sir. I won't let you win just because you've got a Captain's hat." She smiles. "And if you go to the berthings quickly enough to change, you may find reason enough to want to knock me around a bit."

Khloe slowly narrows her eyes. "What, precisely, did you do?" She inquires. "Also, might I point out that beating the frak out of someone is not exactly textbook for disciplining." She folds her arms across her chest, giving Andrea an expectant glare.

Andrea sighs. Dammit. "I told Spiral to get over himself and accept that I'm not some Toaster waiting to kill him. He refused, same as always. He's too terrified of potential enemies in the shadows to see a friend. So I called him a coward. He threw a bottle at me, I ducked, and the shards are likely still on the floor." She stands up a bit straighter. "So, what IS the textbook discipline for calling a spade a spade?"

Khloe shrugs her shoulders. "You're of equal rank, so it's just an officer's quarrel. Throwing a bottle? I presume of some of his precious, precious booze." She wrinkles her nose at that. "I can't figure him out. He's a textbook alcoholic, but every alcoholic is running from something. And besides… that's clearly not your problem. You didn't prompt his bad behavior." It's going to probably take something more to get her to want to spar.

Andrea leans back, and considers Khloe again. It HAD been clear that the Captain needed to vent, but was now refusing. She wanted to spar, but had decided it was against her rules, and so wasn't going to. Suddenly, Andrea smiles. "Hypothetically speaking, what would the penalty be for messing with the socks of a superior officer?"

"I…" Khloe was honestly going to answer Andrea's question, but it only occurred to her a hair's breadth later what the actual question was. "No," she says, simply, staring at Hosedown in disbelief. As her mouth hangs agape, there's a hint of a smile. "No, you wouldn't frakking dare."

Andrea laughs. "Of course I wouldn't dare. It must have been some OTHER stick who seems to have an interest in getting you to participate in some fun." She gives a shrug. "If I were to do it, I would likely have gone for the underwear. What with all the conversation concerning your ass, a nice thong or two would probably do wonders for morale."

Khloe laughs. But it's not good-natured. She just shakes her head, crossing around to the other side of the ring. She unbuttons her jacket as she goes, and when she reaches the table where gloves and tape is stored, she folds her jacket neatly and places it down. She then begins the methodical taping of her hands, saying absolutely nothing to Andrea as she does so.

Watching Khloe go for the gloves, Andrea starts stretching, preparing. She's heard a thing or two about the captain, and if even half are true, the former beauty queen is about to get a major beatdown. Still, it was what she wanted, right? A straight fight beat Spiral's behind the back bullshit any day. Being sure to keep her eyes on Khloe, she readies herself. Who knows? She may give as good as she gets.

Khloe tugs on a pair of gloves, pulling the laces tight with her teeth. Then, ducking into the ring underneath the lowest rope, she rolls a few feet and then stands up to her full height. She rolls her shoulders and flexes her neck to either side. No words, encouraging or disparaging. She simply waits, standing there in her uniform trousers and tanks, dogtags hanging freely, with her gloves up.

Andrea smiles again. She isn't stupid. She hooks a glove under her own tags and tosses them to the table outside the ring, where they land with a loud clang. Rank hasn't been dismissed yet, and she sure as hell isn't gonna swing at a superior officer before that happens. She isn't gonna get chucked in the brig over some socks.

Khloe arches an eyebrow, then shrugs. "That's fine by me, Hosedown," she says, a glove looping underneath her tags, slipping them up and over her head, and tugged free from her braids. The tags are tossed in the same direction, landing outside the ring.

Andrea nods, her smile holding. "Let's see if I can at least make this interesting for you." Stepping forward, gloves raised, she throws the first punch.

Khloe doesn't have much in the way of boxing skill, rhythm, or finesse. What she does have is a considerable amount of scrappy dirty fighting skill from her youth, as well as the training received in the Navy. She's quick to duck and block much of Andrea's initial assault. And then, her follow-up.

Gah, she is FAST. Andrea watches in awe and frustration as one of her swings is ducked while the other is deflected harmlessly aside. All of this, however, is nothing compared to the swing to the gut that connects, leaving Andrea suddenly sucking hard for air. Well, crap. This is what she wanted, right? Still, no point going down easy. Andrea steps into another swing, this time putting a bit more into it.

The powerful swing is easy for Khloe to predict, and with a wicked smirk she ducks to the side and comes up aiming for Hosedown's exposed side and back. It's all about the kidneys…

"Ugh…" Andrea groans as the hits connect to her side. The back shot isn't fun, either, but after the first blow to her gut, breathing is not currently her favorite thing. She turns quickly, though. Adrenaline can keep her going even if she doesn't have much oxygen available, right? She needs to at least give Khloe SOMETHING, though, or she's just being a glorified punching bag. The next swing goes for the head.

The unexpected wild swing towards her jaw causes Khloe to flinch and duck; after all, she was certain Hosedown would drop, or at the very least stagger off, from those rabbit punches. It causes her to lose her balance, though, and she tumbles to the canvas. She rolls off to the side and quickly hops up to her feet. "You're tougher than you look, Hosedown," comes Khloe's backhanded compliment. "However, there's one piece of advice I have for you: do not. frak. with my socks."

Andrea's full swing goes all the way around, soon she's on her knees, trying to regain her equilibrium. She hears Khloe fall, though and takes advantage to push herself back up. Breathing isn't fun, but she still gets some words in. "Told. You. Socks boring. Next time. Frak. With underwear. Something lacy… maybe…" She smiles. "Did scavenge teams hit a Aphrodite's Secret?"

"Keep the girly crap for yourself. Maybe your boyfriend Spiral will stop throwing bottles at you." Now, Khloe really has no idea of the backstory between Hosedown and Spiral. She's just talking smack, at this point. "Although, I doubt he has the sobriety in him to 'stand at attention', if you know what I mean." She makes a 'come hither' motion with her gloves, standing her ground.

"Never stopped him on the Volans." Andrea grins. "Just the once, but he was pretty good at what he did. Think I might have seen something, though. He may have his eyes on someone else. Not you, more's the shame. You're just screaming for a good roll in the hay, Poppy." This time trying to be more careful, Andrea goes in for another swing.

Khloe is caught with her feet flat this time, and Andrea's shot connects solidly with her midsection. She's quick to dodge back to prevent any more body blows, although it's clear she's fairly angered by Andrea's suggestion. "Are… are you offering? I'm… certainly not interested… in Spiral, that's for sure. And I'm not about to violate frat!" And that's when she goes in for a reciprocating shot to the midsection.

Reciprocating shot? It darn near lifts Andrea off the floor, sending her stumbling backwards and gasping for breath. The ropes catch her, and push her vaguely back forward, and she stumbles to her knees before pushing herself up. Again. "Not… in Spiral… will… remember that…"

Khloe shakes her head. "You best not read too deeply into that, Hosedown," she says, her breath returning a lot quicker than Andrea's. After all, she's taken a lot less punishment. "Even when rank has been stowed, I draw a line on certain issues. Don't cross it. Now. Do you still want me to keep kicking your ass, or are you done?"

"Don't think (cough) I know better yet (wheeze) sir." And Andrea is swinging again.

Hosedown's wild swings forces Khloe back against her own ropes. There's no real easy way to get out of this scenario; a skilled boxer would attempt to wrap her arms around her opponent in hoping the referee breaks them up. Khloe, however, does not have formal boxing training. So she reacts how someone cornered by a knife-wielding gang-banger might act: she ends up taking some of Andrea's wild swings in order to push her back long enough to get in a lucky, dirty shot…

And here she thought she'd been doing so well. Feeling some of her swings connect, Andrea almost allowed herself to feel good about how things were going before a sneaky shot connected with her jaw. She stumbles back, and then pow, she'd down. Not out cold, but not all there, either. "So… socks… bad… idea…"

"This fight… is over," Khloe pants, having had to fight hard in that last exchange to get Andrea on her ass. "Agreed?" She holds out her hand to Andrea so that she might be pulled up to her feet. She nods. "Socks, bad idea. Going through any of Poppy's stuff, bad idea. Next time, I won't put gloves on." While she's wearing her stoic and serious Khloe face, there's also a hint of the cameraderie between two soldiers who just beat out their differences in the boxing ring.

Andrea takes the offered hand. Well, on the second try, anyway. As she is pulled up, her grin is a bit looser than usual. "Then… I'll have to find… 'nother excuse… to get you to… detag for a while. Good 'bout, sir. You know your shit."

Khloe narrows her eyes slightly once Andrea's on her feet and they are looking at each other on the same level. "Sorry, Hosedown, but I'm always on duty. I take off my tags for two reasons, and one of them is to spar with a subordinate or a superior. The other reason, well, let's just say I'm in bad shape if the other reason happens." And with that, she pats the other woman on the shoulder, and turns to head to ring's edge to duck out.

Andrea is still pretty shaky, but ambles in that direction as well. "You know… sir… frat doesn't mean you can't have friends." She leans on the ropes, her head not quite up to navigating them yet. "It's not the worst thing in the world to kill some time with that pain in the ass eltee, is it?"

Khloe slips through the ropes and hops down to the padded floor below. Tugging free one of her hands, she scoops up both pairs of dog tags, and tosses the appropriate set up to Andrea. "Good night, Lieutenant," Poppy says as she slips the chain over her head. And as she turns to go, she tugs off her other gloves and passes it off to a Crewman to return for her.

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