=||We'll be rockin' till the end of time||= .open.

[jamie]

WHACK

"Damn it, hold your guard up!"

WHACK

Ros got through the other ensign's guard quickly, using his right hand to push away the feeble left arm guard. It was only a second until rough, but scarily gentle fingers softly touched the skin where the nerve points were to do a Vulcan nerve pinch. The ensign didn't move under Ros' fingers, frozen in place a bit. A devious smirk lit up Ros' previously passionate and controlled sadism face as he removed his fingers from the ensign's shoulder-neck range. It dropped to his side, and he stepped back with a laugh.

"If you'd been an actual enemy- you'd be sleepin' on your feet. Hey, Y'satisfied 'cause I'm bushed."

The other ensign laughed, turning away from Ros. The Vulcan had been waiting for this moment, and with a silent mini-leap, pinned the other ensign on the padded ground for a just a few seconds. Ros gave a bit of a laugh with the oomph that occurred. He made sure his strength wasn't too harmful to the man below him. He also made sure that his entire weight wasn't on the younger, human, man. Ros didn't want to cause unnecessary injuries. Well, more injuries, anyway. Both he and the ensign were covered with light bruises from their sparring. Ros even had a few cuts on him from sharp parts of their workout uniforms. He wished he could have worn his kilt- that was a lot easier to fight in, but he didn't want to mentally scar the ensign. Ros got up off the ensign and backwards walked over to his towel, wary of a tackle just like he had performed.

"Never turn your back to an enemy, y'know? Well, that was fun- we should spar again."

"Yea, thanks Ros," the other ensign muttered, fire in his eyes.

Ros gave a small chuckle at the competitive growl that was in his colleague's tone. The other man grabbed a black towel, that matched his black workout attire, and left with a nod to the Vulcan's direction. Ros gave back a nod in order to be polite. He had come in here to work off a bit of anger that had occured in the bar with violence- which was a lot better than a bottle of brandy. Ros sat down on one of the benches near to the fighting area, his new workout clothes a bit scratchy on his slender, but muscular frame.

They were the same colors as his usual kilt- the sleeveless workout shirt he wore was black, and his knee-length basketball shorts were red. His shoes were black tennis shoes with white ankle socks- which had been discarded next to the bench that he was sitting on before the fight to prevent severe injury. Ros grabbed a blue towel that was laying on top of his shoes and socks and put his warm, sweat-soaked face on it. He had sweated pretty heavily in the fight, due to the fact that the ensign he had fought with was a pretty good fighter. Ros's hair was plastered to his face a bit, but he moved it away with a hand stroke or two. Vulcan ears and eyebrows were uncovered, giving a dead ringer that he was the odd Vulcan. Ros removed his face from the towel and sighed, all the rage gone from him now in a simple fighting exercise. He felt better, a lot better.

[skytracker]

Sky had walked into the gym wanting to spar. Upon entry though, she noticed a man she didn't know and an Ensign she knew all too well. Making as little noise as possible, she started to back out of the room. Something caught her attention, though and she stayed put, not making a sound, staying up against the wall. Wether it was just that Ros could fight, or it was the fact that he was indeed not wearing a kilt, Sky had to watch. In her mind, she examined the entire fight.

Nice form...too far to the outside with that left hook. The boy is holding up nicely, but it's obvious Ros isn't going all out... Hmm, too many jabs. You should add a combo or two in there. Higher with the left foot. Those kicks should stretch your muscles. What she was thinking was perfectly natural. Afterall, she was the Chief Tactical Officer. She kept watching. Ah, the nerve pinch. What a beautiful move that is. Wish I was strong enough. There was a special name for the move, she was sure, but it was probably in Vulcan, and Sky was too lazy to look it up. Or rather, have the computer look it up.

She watched in silence as Ros taught the stranger a lesson in turning your back on your opponant. In Sky's book, that was rule number 3 of hand to hand combat. Rule one was 'never underestimate your opponant.' Rule two was 'never overestimate your opponant.' Ros sat on a bench and put his face into a towel, apparently not knowing Sky had come in. She took a few deep breaths and walked up to him. "Hey...uhh. Nice job." It was literally all she could think to say. "Your hand ok?"

[jamie]

Ros had been staring out at nothing, really, trying to recall a few Vulcan cousins in his head- the 'balls of haggis' who were nothing but black hole debris now. It was a fruitless endeavor, the only one he could remember was a boy who bullied him for having emotions and not being as smart as him. Ros remembered punching him and breaking his nose, which his grandfather had been chastised about. It was only a day later that he'd been taken to a hand to hand combat class.

It was a fond memory in his mind, but it was interrupted by a familiar voice. Ros' eyes looked at Sky's eyes while she congratulated him. He put his head back in his towel once again, drying his face off a bit more of the sweat that had accumulated over the fight. Ros began speaking even before his head was off of the towel. Even though he was raised on Earth- some of his Vulcan customs won out- such as modesty, and a need for precision. The precision in his fighting, but his modesty was annoying to himself. His Australian accent won out through his voice, and he just replied:

"It was pretty sloppy, but thanks."

He raised an eye and both of his eyebrows at her next sentence, and looked at his hand. It was still bleeding a bit, but it was wrapped in white bandages that only showed spots of copper green blood. Underneath, though, his skin was torn in several places from glass and his own attempts to rectify the pain of embedded glass. Ros showed it to Sky, stretching out his wrapped fingers. It wasn't too bad, with what medical training Ros had had he was able to handle these sorts of injuries easily.

"Got all the glass out, I think- it's amazin' what ya can do with antiseptic, a borrowed tweezer, and a few bandages. Though- fightin' was maybe not the best thing to do."

Ros was sure if a doctor was around right now, he'd slap the living daylights out of Ros for fighting with an injured hand. It was necessary though, not for physical health- but for mental health. Ros was sure no one would want him losing control over his Vulcan emotions- even on shore leave. That was a concern when he had first signed up for the academy. That his emotions wouldn't be under control. Ros was able to prove to the higher ups that he could control them, so he'd been able to join Starfleet.

It was later this control- and the advantages of having an emotional, strong Vulcan on a ship that led his way to being an ensign on the Enterprise. Ros' voice wasn't as carefree as it had been a while ago. It was still a bit down in some ways, but it was recovering. Ros was glad she had approached him at a later time, not earlier. Earlier he would have reacted violently, even under the effect of booze. Right now he was drained, fully. Ros gave her a mischievous smile, a sign that he'd at least partially forgiven her. That things were near to where they were before. Ros looked at her with a bit of friendly concern on his face and asked:

"How are ya? Ow, pardon."

Ros winced a bit, putting the towel on the ground infront of his feet as he unwrapped his hand. It looked like he had fallen on a minefield, to be honest. There were little grooves in his hand from where he had to really dig in to get glass shards out, and there were cuts long enough to at least warrant a few stitches due to their length. Ros knew he should have gone to sickbay to get the injuries repaired, but he was a bit too prideful to do something like that. A true Vulcan Scotsman, who thought that a trip to the doctor for a hurt hand was like getting your manhood cut off with a pair of girly fabric scissors. With all the bandages removed, he moved his fingers, not at all surprised by the gore of the wound itself. These wounds looked nasty, but they healed fairly well eventually, Ros knew.

[connorpayne]

Connor Payne had barely stepped aboard the USS Enterprise for the first time not one hour ago, and here he was in the Gym. Typical Connor. He had set his things down in his quarters, and hadn't even bothered to unpack before making sure he'd checked out a few key areas of the ship. The Security Office, the Armory and now the Gym.

Connor was dressed in his workout clothes, which consisted of a black fitted shirt and baggy black pants, and carried a bag full of workout and sparring equipment. Connor had hoped at least that there would be some Martial Arts practice for officers sometime during the day, and sure enough, there were two guys going at it. A young human who looked fierce, but overwhelmed, and...a Vulcan?

Strange. This Vulcan seemed to attack with reckless abandon, and didn't always choose the most logical strike. Maybe he was a Romulan in disguise? Or maybe half-human? Connor loved watched two well-trained people spar almost as much as he loved sparring. It was like a composer appreciating the intricacies of a complex melody, or an artist dissecting a symphony of color.

But what really caught Connor's eye was the woman watching the fight. He recognized her from the crew dossier he'd studied on the shuttle ride to the Enterprise. That was Lt. Timber. Tactical officer. As a "Security Specialist", that meant he'd probably be working closely with her. Who knew? Connor was new to the command hierarchy of a Starship. More often than not, he'd worked alone as a Black Ops agent of Starfleet, or with his specialized tactical team.

Either way, her record was far from spotless. Connor made a mental note to keep an eye on her. He'd either be working with her, or locking her in the brig. That, of course, would depend on her actions.

In any case, it looked as though the fight was over, and she was talking with the Vulcan. Connor couldn't help but feel a small amount of pity for the Vulcan. Even though Connor himself had hated his backward, crap-filled home back on Ivor Prime, at least it was still there. At least he wasn't an endangered species.

Connor decided to focus on his workout, and found a hanging punching bag, and began his drills, just to warm up.

Jab jab cross. Clinch, hook, hook. Step back, spinning wheel kick, roundhouse kick low, roundhouse kick high, hook kick. Bob. Weave. Uppercut. Connor's hits resounded loudly through the gym, but that didn't matter. Connor was completely focused on improvement.

[skytracker]

ooc{{ yo! Buh-ba. Ask first, man. It doesn't really bother me...but still. Common courtesey. Welcome to the site, though. =}


She was here to make amends with one of her men. She had severely bashed his culture a while earlier, and felt terrible about it. Something about the new guy caught her attention. He was tall, pale-skinned, and fairly ripped. Inwardly, she scoffed at him. Maybe it was the way he looked, she didn't like it.

Her attention strayed back to Ros. His hand was held out for her to inspect. She held him delicately by the wrist and looked at his hand. She shook her head in disbelief. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me!? Did my star tactical officer seriously just kick some ensign's ass with his hand lookin' like this!?" She held his hand up for Ros to see it. Her palm came up to her forhead. "I should kick your ass myself for that," she said jokingly. "No, what I should do is order you to go to sickbay. See what one of the doc's can do for ya."

She pulled his hand closer to her face and very delicately ooc{{NOTICE THE WORD DELICATELY ran her fingers over the wounds to find anymore hidden pieces of glass. She found one, very small, and looked at him in appology before using her nails and very gently ooc{{NOTICE THE WORD GENTLY removing it. A little pressure on the now fresh wound caused the oddly colored blood to stop flowing. "Sorry...it's my fault these are here." She indicated his gashed hand.

[jamie]

Ros barely noticed the other guy in the room through his peripheral vision. He noticed how 'ripped' the man's muscles were and assumed that the man was a fighter just like Ros. He kind of wished he had the ability to have a large muscle mass, but he'd gotten his father's genetics. Just like the rest of the men in his family, Ros looked effeminate, like a girl in most ways. It was just his sleek but shapely muscles from fighting that kept him from being a total girl in appearance. Ros' full eyesight went back to Sky when she took his wrist to examine his hand. Thankfully his face was already sweaty and flustered green, hiding any sort of reaction to the feeling of Sky's fingers.

Ros couldn't help but give a small chuckle at her threats to beat his ass or send him over to sickbay for a good beating from the doctors for trying to fix his hand himself. He knew he'd get his ass kicked by the doctors because he'd tried to weasel out of every single thing involving doctors at Starfleet academy. Ros had even tried to do whatever required doctors by himself- resulting a few...interesting scenarios.

He raised both eyebrows at the idea of he being the "star tactical officer" under her, but didn't comment. Ros didn't consider himself a star officer- although he was probably one of the few officers underneath her who knew the inside and out of the armory department, and could fix phasers with his eyes closed. He gave a joking bodily shiver at the first comment, saying in his old Scottish drawl:

"The doctors'd kill me for what I've done to it, and aye, I kicked his ass with an injured hand."

He felt the scrape of a fingernail, and looked as Sky removed a small sliver of glass that the Vulcan had missed. It didn't even really hurt, although he did wince as the blood started to flow. When Sky was finished, Ros took his hand back gently, and wrapped it back up in the green-stained bandages. As soon as it was wrapped again, he responded to a statement that she had said about his gashes, and how she'd caused them.

His face dropped a bit, a frown masking his features. In reflex to test how strong the bandages were against his hand, he flexed and balled his hand in a fix before letting it relax on his knee. Ros gave a dark chuckle, his next sentence holding a more of an American accent than his Scottish one. Ros didn't even notice the change in his accent, too focused on the words.

"You weren't the person holdin' the bottle, or the damnable person who gave me a dirty phaser to fix. Don't worry 'bout it."

They were true words, Ros didn't want Sky to worry about the hurt that she'd caused. He'd get over it, like he got over a bottle breaking in his hand or a phaser blowing up in the same hands. Ros didn't hold grudges unless they were very much earned, unlike his grandfather who held a grudge against all of Vulcan before it blew up.

[skytracker]

Sky truely felt terrible for what she had done. She knew that it wasn't because she'd had too many drinks. That was just her normal reaction to people in general. She'd been raised as a spoiled brat, and every now and then, it showed. She looked at the floor. Yes, he was Vulcan, but what did it matter? He was a great guy: fun to be around, easy to talk to, different. There was something about him -- his forgiving nature maybe? -- that she just liked. Sky was a total bitch, and he was truely telling her not to worry about it.

The poor woman couldn't tell if she should feel more ashamed or not. It was always easier to deal with a pissed off friend than it was to deal with a forgiving one. Sky tended to feel worse once she'd been forgiven. At least she could be mad about someone not getting over themself. She looked at Ros again and sighed. "You're sure it's ok?" A quick glance around the room. "Maybe we can go ahead and head to sickbay. I'm sure they'll pitch a fit, but I'm worried about your hand..."

The lieutenant couldn't believe the words had just come out of her mouth. "Worried"? What!? Since when have I EVER worried about someone? she thought. It was true. Sky didn't worry. Her stress level was usually nonexistent. She just didn't worry about things. In her mind, if it happens, it happens. There ain't no goin' back. Learn to deal with it and live on. But here she was, telling someone -- a guy for that matter -- that she was worried. Sky was absolutely astounded.

She tried to hide the blush that covered her face, but even she knew that she failed miserably at it. I'm blushing. Holy shit...I'm blushing. She wanted to turn and run but at the same time she wanted Ros to stand up and hug her. It was completely confusing to the girl. No. This is not happening. Absolutely not. Sky actually cared. Yes. C A R E D. There was a reason she'd been deemed the demon child. She never openly cared about anyone. Her gaze traveled back to Ros's face.

[jamie]

Ros looked into her eyes when she asked him if he was really okay. His eyes were brimming with compassion, something that came out of his own persona, not one of Tanak's lessons. Ros processed her question in his head, avoiding all the logical bullshit and trying to come up with a speedy answer. He couldn't come up with anything, so he just nodded at her question, although he did wince a bit when he flexed his hand. He was now sure that there was a few pieces of glass that he hadn't gotten out. Either that or the wounds were aggravated by the fighting.

Overall, though Ros was pretty sure that he was fine, in whatever little medical knowledge he had. He wasn't having a seizure, or bleeding to death, or anything. It was just a small cut, so he'd live. When her eyes broke from his eyes to look around the room, his eyes also broke away, although to look at his hand, not at the room. Ros' devious smile crossed his face as she relayed her concern over his injuries. He had just TOLD her not to worry about anything. That it would heal on it's own.

Ros was just about to turn back to Sky and tell her not to worry again, but then he saw the blush on her face. To him, the lieutenant in front of him looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a hovercar. She looked like she wanted to run, but stay at the same time. It was an odd look, and one that did not look pleasant on her hard but lovely face. Ros didn't comment on her face. It would have either made her angry, or made her run away from him, in his opinion. Both of those outcomes would not have been pleasant for the Vulcan armory officer. He covered up any hint of seeing her blush with a grin and said in a humorous Scottish drawl:

"Oh- okay, guess me bein' injured before we leave would be a bit of a drag on the other officers, neh?"

Ros reached over a hand and patted her twice firmly on her shoulder, another sign that things were the same now. He'd made sure to calculate his strength, so that it wouldn't hurt her. Ros had reverted to the mindset that were friends with each other. Ros was always a bit too forgiving- it was one of the consequences of his natural personality. In his eyes, a sorry could cover up anything wrong. Sky had said her sorry, and had shown the genuine nature of her apology, so Ros had forgiven her. He was a bit too logical when it came to that, he supposed with an internal chuckle. Ros gave a small laugh, crossing his arms around his stomach.

"That is- if you'd come with me to make sure they don't kill me too much. A dead officer is worse than an injured one, no?"

[skytracker]

Sky knew Ros saw her blush. Well, she thought she knew. He saw. Right? Well, maybe the pain in his hand distracted him enough for her to hide it. Yeah, there's no way. He saw it. I know he saw it. Wait, did he see it? He had to. If he did, though, wouldn't he have said something? He's just standing there... The poor woman was so confused she could've died. What was going on? There was something bad wrong inside Sky's head. She felt like a sidewinder in the rain forest. Yes, that confused.

She took a deep breath and laughed slightly at his words. "Yeah. It'd be a total drag." She shook her head and regained more of her normal composure as he patted her on the shoulder. Thankful for his ability to withold his ungodly Vulcan strength. If he had've forgotten, she'd likely be through the floor and laying on the deck below them. The idea made Sky inwardly flinch. Ros looked almost like a woman, but his presense made it clear he was, in fact, a guy. A good looking guy at that.

Sky laughed again at his comment. "Yes, Darling," she was careful to make her voice as fasicious as possible. "I'll hold your hand and take you to the nurse's office." At that, Sky actually grabbed his uninjurred hand and started walking toward sickbay. In the back of her mind, a little voice -- which she tried to shut up -- told her the feel of his calloused hand in her's was quite pleasurable. He's a Vulcan. He's a Vulcan. He's a Vulcan, she chanted in her mind. The lieutenant had a feeling her father and eldest brothers would not be pleased if they found out she was considerably close with a Vulcan male. Then again...female would be even worse.

[jamie]

Ros couldn't see the confusion on Sky's face about whether or not he saw her blush. Of course he'd seen the blush. The pain of his hand had been with him for days, so it wasn't that distracting. Ros had just not commented on her blush. It was...unnecessary. At her laughter about his comment, he couldn't help but break into a smile. Ros was glad he made her laugh, even if it was only a slight laugh.

He didn't say anything because the laughter had kind of made him space out for a moment. By the time Ros returned to reality, in a sense, Sky was already saying something else in a funny tone. He couldn't help but give a snort of laughter when she called him "Darling" in that tone that he already knew he liked. Before the apology, Ros had thought that the kind, funny, and passionate Sky that he'd met in the hallways was just an illusion after the bar incident. That it was just a mask behind the hatred of Vulcans.

Ros now considered her quite genuine, if only for the way that she spoke now. He hoped he never had to see the angry, Vulcan-hating Sky ever again, although he knew that, logically, it was bound to show up somewhere else at any time. The thought made him twitch internally and become a bit uncomfortable. Ros covered up the brief moment with a grin as he pressed his crossed arms even closer to his stomach and took a step away. He was near to actually playfully running away just to annoy her, and started to say so...

"Not if I run away fir-"

...when she grabbed hold of his calloused, uninjured hand. As she pretty much lead him along to the sickbay, his feet made a slight slapping noise on the gymnasium floor. Ros laughed, his face spread into a wide grin that was natural for him. When he had come into the gym looking to spar with an ensign and break off some anger with Sky- he hadn't expected to forgive her just as he was about to leave, and then be leaded by her to sickbay.

Butterflies formed in his stomach when it came to sickbay, he hated that place. It made him feel like he was dying inside each and every single time he stepped into there. Ros did admit to himself that her calloused hand felt comfortable in his own calloused hand. That thought became a bit uncomfortable after that, so he just allowed himself to be lead without any thoughts to himself.

ooc: {how about we set up a thread in sickbay now? Time for Ros to face one of his fears! }