They told me that I "know" and asked me to tell them if I see "her". This captain they're talking about. I don't like it.
It's not the fact that they're supposed to be dead that bothers me. It's the fact that they're supposed to be dead in this universe and they aren't. I wasn't around for when it happened but not seeing them for this long... they should have at least been killed by a jump, just like the creatures. But neither have been.
Yeah. Let me know if you need me to go easy on that arm.
Only bad things survive the jumps, and they're clearly not who they used to be. I don't know. I had enough circle talk out of Caffrey to last a lifetime.
My advice is to pay it no attention. They're trying to get your back up.
It's hard to text while you're walking by the way.
[ Sure enough, Carolyn's there a minute later, glancing around to make sure they're the only ones there before continuing the conversation from the communicators. ]
It means Kirk thinks the best way for me to relieve tension is to have sex with him.
[ Eyeroll. Also, pulling her knife out of her belt and setting it to the side. She's not here to knifefight. ]
Is he still brow beating you about that? Dirty bastard.
[ He rolls his eyes too, pushing out the last mat so that they have a solid arena to work with, then stripping off the top layer of his jumpsuit, tying it around his waist with the arms.
His hair is getting a little too long now. So long on the ship, he's only had it cut a few times, but this is the longest it's been. ]
Well you're doomed now. You'll be going along minding your own business, and then out of nowhere a theremin will start playing, and he'll sweep you off your feet.
[ He was caught laughing at his own joke, not staggering back fast enough to keep his feet under him and crashing on his back on the mats with enough force to make the one he landed up slide three inches under their weight.
His knees provide a little more force to throw her off in the same movement, using her momentum, and then Casey is springing onto hands and knees, ready to fight if she's already recovered from the throw, ready to get up the rest of the way if she hasn't. ]
[ Carolyn lands on top of him, managing to grunt out ] A what? [ before Casey throws her off. She rolls, pulling herself up onto her hands and knees as he does. ]
He won't be sweeping me off my feet, [ Carolyn continues, pushing herself up the rest of the way and beckoning for him to make his move. ]
Well, guess that depends on how much of a fight you can put up. This is good practice.
[ He's up on his feet a moment later, brushing himself down, before he raises his hands up in proper offensive pattern, stepping forward and sending two jabs toward her jaw. He holds back most of his strength, naturally--he's not actually trying to knock her out. ]
[ Carolyn manages to block the first jab but the second connects, making her stumble a few steps back. Ow. ]
I think you're probably better at this than he is. [ So definitely good practice. Hands up, she steps forward again, feinting a punch toward his kidneys before letting her other fist come up toward his face. ]
Yeah, well when someone spends their whole life fighting off plastic rocks, they can only be so good in a real fight.
[ Casey moves slightly forward, intending to take the first hit so that he has the time to properly dodge the attack to his face, but she slips in faster than him, out of the feint before he quite realises it was. His guard is too slow, made too tentatively with his previously injured arm, and in fact only forces her aim off target.
He takes the blow to his eye a little too hard, doesn't go with it--all in all it was a blundering accident, and Casey grimaces, waving her back as he steps back to recover. ]
[ She takes the steps back, rolling her fingers so that her knuckles crack. She definitely hadn't meant to hit him in the eye; that'll bruise, and the thought makes her smile a little where once it wouldn't have. ]
And who's "Ali"? I hate it when you do that. [ Making Earth references, she means; of course, she's sure he also knows that already. ]
That right. You know, you learn the tricks from the greats.
[ Casey nurses his bruise for a moment, looking decidedly unhappy about it and trying to get his footing back. ]
Heavyweight boxer. Coined the phrase 'float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,' but he liked to say that sorta thing in his matches. Threw off his opponents, confused them, distracted them, insulted them--didn't matter. If they split their concentration, then they weren't concentrating on the fight.
[ He shakes himself down, focusing again, and comes back swinging for her ribs, then throws the elbow of his good arm up on the third, aiming for her chin. ]
[ It's one she's seen before, one that's been used against her. Her temper's gotten her in trouble in fights, but that's why she's training with Casey -- to be better at them, so even if her temper flares up, she still has a chance. She won't let someone throw her down as easily as Johns did again.
The second shot to her ribs has Carolyn reaching out to grab his wrist, to try and twist it away, and as a result his elbow hits her right on the chin. Her head snaps back, Fry blurting out a "fuck!" and instinctively kicking out at his shins. ]
[ He's back too, putting that distance in a little too easily. Yes, he's slow, but not as bad as he might have been after two months rest. He really prefers being active, at the peak of physical fitness, and injury time tends to run him down, makes him doubt himself.
Carolyn has come on a long way, and scrapping like this isn't much different to knife fighting, only you intentionally miss. ]
Lock it down. You're supposed to be getting me on the mat.
[ She supposes that is what she's supposed to do, but it isn't why she asked for this. Not really. She came because she needed to sweat, needed to do something that would help clear her head, and this is one of the only things that does. Throwing punches, kicking, tackling or being tackled; it's not dealing with the ship's bullshit, and that's all she wants.
Fry lifts a hand, pushes some hair away from her forehead, and moves in again. If he wants her to get him down onto the mat, she will -- and she starts by targeting his currently weaker arm, trying to weaken it further. ]
Unless you came to get your ass handed to you, instead.
[ Frank and to the point. Casey had had to adjust to actually train Carolyn rather than just treat her as a near-equal sparring partner from the get go. He was still doing it now, letting her land blows where she should naturally land blows, teaching her little by little to train her muscle memory so that she could stop thinking about what she was doing and just use what she'd been taught to fight. That was how you got faster, it was how you got better. Practice.
Actually landing blows was part of that practice too. It was impossible to teach follow through if there wasn't a weight on the other end of the fist resisting the attack.
She goes pragmatically for his recently broken arm, and it's a good move, so Casey rewards it by giving her an opening, turning his arm away from her attacks to offer unbalanced feet and a soft stretch of midsection. ]
[ She's not sure where the response comes from or what she really means by it, but it doesn't matter. She takes the offer he's giving her, hand tightening into a fist when she misses his arm only to sink it into his stomach.
Fry's frustrated and terrified and she hates this goddamn ship and most of the people on it. She hates that she's doing what she can to help them and that it'll never be enough, not because she isn't trying but because people don't give a shit. She hates that people think she's doing things for the right reasons when she doesn't know anymore, when sometimes she thinks about throwing in the towel and just worrying about herself and those close to her. She hates that she can't sleep without remembering a crashing ship and an eclipse filled with blood, including her own.
She hates this fucking place, and Casey's the only thing she has right now to take it out on. It's making her a little sloppier than normal and, at the same time, a little more vicious -- but it feels fucking good. ]
[ One blow knows him back sure enough, and he has time to speak before his unbalanced footing takes him back. ]
You got it.
[ And then down he goes, half landing on the matt, showing her defeat and clear advantage, and for a moment just folding his arms across his knees as he blinks up at her. ]
There a word for all this? [ He waves his hand to indicate the fight, the mood, perhaps even the ship itself - doesn't matter - but she can take the question (or not) however she wants to. ]
[ Breathing heavily, Carolyn stops before she can follow through -- before she can leap on him, try to finish what they started. This isn't that kind of fight. Her hands are curled into fists at her sides, and she looks down at him, sweat trickling down her hairline and across her jaw.
She doesn't reply until she starts to uncurl her hands, until she lowers herself to the mat next to him, looking up at the ceiling. Rubbing her palms against the legs of her pants helps get the sweat off them, but it doesn't make them stop shaking. ]
This fucking place, [ she manages, though it's not really an answer. Not a real one, anyway. ] I just... [ She hates it. She's scared of it. It's all she has. ] I don't know. It's stupid.
[ For that brief moment he sees in her eyes the will to carry on and make him feel every inch of what she's feeling. It's a good look, but he's relieved when she reels it in, too; it means she has it under control.
When he leans back, she comes down too, settles down on the mat with her head back, and Casey is instantly there to help her bend her head forward, encouraging her into a better recovery position after the strenuous exercise. ]
None of the punches you were throwing were about anything stupid. If you were fighting me over our favourite flavors of milkshake, maybe. But not this.
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Dead people not being dead gets me pretty mad too. Ten minutes in the gym?
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It's not the fact that they're supposed to be dead that bothers me. It's the fact that they're supposed to be dead in this universe and they aren't. I wasn't around for when it happened but not seeing them for this long... they should have at least been killed by a jump, just like the creatures. But neither have been.
Yeah. Let me know if you need me to go easy on that arm.
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Only bad things survive the jumps, and they're clearly not who they used to be. I don't know. I had enough circle talk out of Caffrey to last a lifetime.
My advice is to pay it no attention. They're trying to get your back up.
It's hard to text while you're walking by the way.
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I'd rather have my guard up than be caught with my pants down.
Speaking of, next time Kirk is in the shuttle bay, please keep an eye on him.
You could switch. Or stop replying.
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Never mind, I'm here now, I'll be laying down the mats. See you in a minute.
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It means Kirk thinks the best way for me to relieve tension is to have sex with him.
[ Eyeroll. Also, pulling her knife out of her belt and setting it to the side. She's not here to knifefight. ]
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Is he still brow beating you about that? Dirty bastard.
[ He rolls his eyes too, pushing out the last mat so that they have a solid arena to work with, then stripping off the top layer of his jumpsuit, tying it around his waist with the arms.
His hair is getting a little too long now. So long on the ship, he's only had it cut a few times, but this is the longest it's been. ]
Bring it on, Cap'n.
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[ Well, the hair's something to grab onto, at least. If there's one thing she's learned from Casey, it's how to fight dirty.
And also that sometimes the best way to start is to just jump right in, so she's just going to try and tackle him. It's been that sort of a day. ]
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[ He was caught laughing at his own joke, not staggering back fast enough to keep his feet under him and crashing on his back on the mats with enough force to make the one he landed up slide three inches under their weight.
His knees provide a little more force to throw her off in the same movement, using her momentum, and then Casey is springing onto hands and knees, ready to fight if she's already recovered from the throw, ready to get up the rest of the way if she hasn't. ]
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He won't be sweeping me off my feet, [ Carolyn continues, pushing herself up the rest of the way and beckoning for him to make his move. ]
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[ He's up on his feet a moment later, brushing himself down, before he raises his hands up in proper offensive pattern, stepping forward and sending two jabs toward her jaw. He holds back most of his strength, naturally--he's not actually trying to knock her out. ]
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I think you're probably better at this than he is. [ So definitely good practice. Hands up, she steps forward again, feinting a punch toward his kidneys before letting her other fist come up toward his face. ]
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[ Casey moves slightly forward, intending to take the first hit so that he has the time to properly dodge the attack to his face, but she slips in faster than him, out of the feint before he quite realises it was. His guard is too slow, made too tentatively with his previously injured arm, and in fact only forces her aim off target.
He takes the blow to his eye a little too hard, doesn't go with it--all in all it was a blundering accident, and Casey grimaces, waving her back as he steps back to recover. ]
Lucky shot, there, Ali.
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[ She takes the steps back, rolling her fingers so that her knuckles crack. She definitely hadn't meant to hit him in the eye; that'll bruise, and the thought makes her smile a little where once it wouldn't have. ]
And who's "Ali"? I hate it when you do that. [ Making Earth references, she means; of course, she's sure he also knows that already. ]
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[ Casey nurses his bruise for a moment, looking decidedly unhappy about it and trying to get his footing back. ]
Heavyweight boxer. Coined the phrase 'float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,' but he liked to say that sorta thing in his matches. Threw off his opponents, confused them, distracted them, insulted them--didn't matter. If they split their concentration, then they weren't concentrating on the fight.
[ He shakes himself down, focusing again, and comes back swinging for her ribs, then throws the elbow of his good arm up on the third, aiming for her chin. ]
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[ It's one she's seen before, one that's been used against her. Her temper's gotten her in trouble in fights, but that's why she's training with Casey -- to be better at them, so even if her temper flares up, she still has a chance. She won't let someone throw her down as easily as Johns did again.
The second shot to her ribs has Carolyn reaching out to grab his wrist, to try and twist it away, and as a result his elbow hits her right on the chin. Her head snaps back, Fry blurting out a "fuck!" and instinctively kicking out at his shins. ]
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Carolyn has come on a long way, and scrapping like this isn't much different to knife fighting, only you intentionally miss. ]
Lock it down. You're supposed to be getting me on the mat.
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[ She supposes that is what she's supposed to do, but it isn't why she asked for this. Not really. She came because she needed to sweat, needed to do something that would help clear her head, and this is one of the only things that does. Throwing punches, kicking, tackling or being tackled; it's not dealing with the ship's bullshit, and that's all she wants.
Fry lifts a hand, pushes some hair away from her forehead, and moves in again. If he wants her to get him down onto the mat, she will -- and she starts by targeting his currently weaker arm, trying to weaken it further. ]
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[ Frank and to the point. Casey had had to adjust to actually train Carolyn rather than just treat her as a near-equal sparring partner from the get go. He was still doing it now, letting her land blows where she should naturally land blows, teaching her little by little to train her muscle memory so that she could stop thinking about what she was doing and just use what she'd been taught to fight. That was how you got faster, it was how you got better. Practice.
Actually landing blows was part of that practice too. It was impossible to teach follow through if there wasn't a weight on the other end of the fist resisting the attack.
She goes pragmatically for his recently broken arm, and it's a good move, so Casey rewards it by giving her an opening, turning his arm away from her attacks to offer unbalanced feet and a soft stretch of midsection. ]
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[ She's not sure where the response comes from or what she really means by it, but it doesn't matter. She takes the offer he's giving her, hand tightening into a fist when she misses his arm only to sink it into his stomach.
Fry's frustrated and terrified and she hates this goddamn ship and most of the people on it. She hates that she's doing what she can to help them and that it'll never be enough, not because she isn't trying but because people don't give a shit. She hates that people think she's doing things for the right reasons when she doesn't know anymore, when sometimes she thinks about throwing in the towel and just worrying about herself and those close to her. She hates that she can't sleep without remembering a crashing ship and an eclipse filled with blood, including her own.
She hates this fucking place, and Casey's the only thing she has right now to take it out on. It's making her a little sloppier than normal and, at the same time, a little more vicious -- but it feels fucking good. ]
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You got it.
[ And then down he goes, half landing on the matt, showing her defeat and clear advantage, and for a moment just folding his arms across his knees as he blinks up at her. ]
There a word for all this? [ He waves his hand to indicate the fight, the mood, perhaps even the ship itself - doesn't matter - but she can take the question (or not) however she wants to. ]
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She doesn't reply until she starts to uncurl her hands, until she lowers herself to the mat next to him, looking up at the ceiling. Rubbing her palms against the legs of her pants helps get the sweat off them, but it doesn't make them stop shaking. ]
This fucking place, [ she manages, though it's not really an answer. Not a real one, anyway. ] I just... [ She hates it. She's scared of it. It's all she has. ] I don't know. It's stupid.
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When he leans back, she comes down too, settles down on the mat with her head back, and Casey is instantly there to help her bend her head forward, encouraging her into a better recovery position after the strenuous exercise. ]
None of the punches you were throwing were about anything stupid. If you were fighting me over our favourite flavors of milkshake, maybe. But not this.
You don't think I'd judge you, whatever it is?
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