Brielle finds an old friend in the BSG Gym, and reconnects with Jacob.
Location: Deck 8 > Gym
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 857
Bit a switch going from the nice young man in the projects to a tattooed and muscular boxer turned soldier. But Jacob always did have a thing for boxing, it was something he and father shared in terms of hobbies. And that was years ago, so while the place has changed, the hobby has not. Granted, life has not been all that pleasant, or should rather say, the last three years have not been pleasant. Now it's just one of those 'one day at a time' things. The war is just an outlet for aggression. And a reason to drink. So working out after a bender probably isn't the best idea ever, but he's nothing if not a creature of habit. Even if that means he's chugging water like there's no tomorrow. He's currently in between rounds of hitting the heavy bag, sitting on a bench, the shirt he's wearing drenched with sweat. He's picking at his hands, having taken his boxing gloves off and is picking at the tape that's wrapped around his hands and wrists, making sure nothing is coming loose.
Brielle comes walking into the gym dressed in her comfortable sweatpants and double layered tank top that leaves enough exposed skin to show off the fine scars here and there that are on her hands and go up her arms. She has a well-tone body, showing that she's no stranger to the gym. As she heads over to the free weights, she glances about to see if any of her fellow engineers are down in the gym. She doesn't see any of her bunk mates but there is a face that she hasn't seen since she blew out of the projects for the Marines. There's a moment where she just blinks and stares because while she was aware that Jacob had joined the marines after her, but they've never been stationed together. And she hasn't seen his face since she left New Castor, so she stops by where he's working out and just looks at him...not saying anything at first. And it's not that 'hey sexy' look but a genuine look of surprise.
It's sort of an unsaid fact that this gym has been claimed by Jacob. He was apart of the first battalion of marines stationed on Galactica, so he's been here longer than most, who're only just arriving now. Then again, he's also won a couple of Gloden Gloves while in the service, so people tend to look to him for working out. Still, it's his mountain and most are fine to not get on the man's bad side. Which is usually 'stay out of his way' and he doesn't tend to care what you do. Except don't leave free weights out. And wipe down your station. Stickler for etiquette. So while he's looking at his hands, he can see feet standing near him, and eyes on him. "Pictures last longer if you're gonna stare." he grunts tersely. There is a vague smell of booze near him. Or on him. And he generally has the look of someone who's fighting a hangover, before he actually looks up and away from his hands. "Bree?" he blinks.
Brielle isn't at all intimidated by the big man's comment, "If I had my camera, I'd take one because it's been...what five years?" She blinks when she gets a whiff of Jacob's hangover, shaking her head because he looks very different than the athlete she remembers, "Yeah Jacob...it's Bree." She gives him a look of concern because the year looks like they've been heavy on her old friend who was kind to a kid from no place, seemingly going nowhere till she jumped to join the Marines, "I got in a week or so ago and been getting settled in." She's changed as well. Still that easy going, sweet look but more mature and definitely more scars than what he would remember, "I was over in Sagittaron but they moved me here...cause I got a demolitions and mechanical background."
The rather laid-back and funny young man she knew seems to of been replaced by a man with a weight on his shoulders. The kind that gives that idea that he drinks to forget. Or unable to. Maybe both. The kind of person that's just sorta going through the motions these days instead of really doing much of anything else, because it's the only they have left to them. "Figured you wouldn't get drawn in the hustle." he utters, sniffing then rubbing his nose. "Good to see you didn't end up on a street corner." The man always liked to draw, always said he was going to own his own tattoo parlor one day. He had one tattoo the last time she saw him, but it appears that number has grown since. He eyes her up, then down. "You look good, Bree." There's a certain gruffness to it, like he's trying to be nice, but it's almost like he's forgotten how.
"Feeling good Jacob...it's all that clean living I've been doing," Brielle tells him with her signature smile that just has that mixture of hope and sweetness that never let anything in the projects get her down. It appears that being in the Marines hasn't changed that, "And yeah...I had a few job opportunities, slaving for Brody, standing on the corner, dealing drugs...strangely I opted for a more legit, law-abiding lifestyle." She gives a bigger smile, "Now I get paid to blow stuff up or keep stuff from exploding." She motions to the scars on her arms, "Win some, lose some but hey, I'm still standing so that's a plus." She takes a moment to check out his ink, giving it a once over, "And nice tats...if I remember, you only had one. Looks like you've pick up a few." She then turns around to shift her tank so he can see the script on her left shoulder, "I've got this one...and another in a place that isn't for show and tell." She sticks her tongue out at Jacob, an old gesture she used to do when she was teasing him as kids, "You still drawing?"
"Mmm." Jacob offers non-commitally. "Never wanted to see you turning tricks. Or doing the hustle." Hustle more or less being another low-born name for the drug game in the seedier parts of the city. "Get rich or die trying." That was the phrase back then. Probably relevant now still. Nobody gets out of the projects they get the money to do so. So most escape to the military before crime and jailtime gets them first. Or you just stay poor and hope a stray bullet doesn't catch you from a drive-by. "Demo, huh. Never would've pinned you for the sort." He takes a moment to eye the ink, nodding once. "Looks decent. And...yeah, I guess. From time to time, haven't gotten asked to do any work in awhile. People still getting settled in here. Yeah, got more. Worked at a parlor for a bit before dad passed on." He scratches at his cheek. "Where? Only asking from a professional angle, not looking to see your tits or anything."
"It's on my ass," Brielle admits to him when he asks her about the other tattoo that can't be shown in public, "And it was right after I graduated from basic training, my brothers and sisters..." Meaning her fellow Marines, cause she doesn't have any siblings, "Went out drinking. It was my first time...I had waaaayyy too much and ended up with a tattoo for my silliness. It's a reminder to me never, ever get that drunk again." She rolls her eyes and laughs at herself because she totally put herself into that situation, "Just a few jokers trying to put one of the projects back in their place. It's all cool. I got even..." She gives a little grin at the memory, "But yeah...taught me a valuable lesson about alcohol."
"Well, I guess the next guy that you pull into your bunk will have something to look at, eh?" Jacob remarks. It's...an attempt at levity. It would be a much more livelier joke if this was a couple years ago. But his heart just doesn't seem to be into. But he's trying. Maybe because he knows her. "Only drink if you can handle the aftereffects of it. That's my lesson there." There's a certain sense of self-awareness with that being said. "That's why I usually drink alone. Can't make bad decisions that way." That's also a horrible way to drink. "But. If you want it covered it with something not so embarrassing, let me know."
"Honestly, I've never taken that close of a look at it because it's on my rear and there's only so much rubber necking you can do to see it," Brielle admits to him, "But yeah...if you could clean it up...that would be good because have your badge on your ass isn't the greatest thing in the world." She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair, "And I sleep alone most of the time...a friend here and there but with all the moving around, I'm keeping things solo for now." There's a quiet, 'just so we're clear' look given to her friend so he doesn't get the idea that she just gave him an opening, "And drinking alone is the worst..." She's not going to let that comment slide, "I'm just better about not getting stupid in public."
"It's a badge?" Jacob tries to let that image formulate in his head. "That's not exactly what I expected it to be. But, alright. I guess if there was something else you'd rather have, I'll...see what I can do." He headshakes at the look. "I wasn't looking. Not really doing that anymore." And he lets the matter drop. Clearly, the man doesn't seem to have anything that resembles a personal life anymore. There's a certain frown at the drinking thing, but he says nothing on it. "It's not for everyone." is what he finally decides on. Apparently, it's definitely for him.
Brielle nods in agreement when he mentions that drinking isn't for everyone. She shoves her hands into her sweats and sighs deeply, giving her old friend a long look, "Hey...are you doing okay?" She doesn't want to pry but when they were teens, they talked alot, "I got really good ears if you ever need to vent." And not drink alone is left unsaid but there's a little concern there, "I mean...if you need to." She tries to play it off as if it's no big deal cause most of the time it wasn't cool to admit that you had a few chinks in the armor.
"A badge of what?" Jacob asks, ignoring the questions for his concerns for the moment. But it seems like she's not going letit go until she's gotten a proper answer, so he just shrugs. "People change. You do shit you're not proud of." There probably apart of him that wants to talk about it, but at the same, it's nobodies burden by his. "Just. Let's just say the Virgon military isn't the hero that I thought it'd be. There's a point when you have to decide what's a good order and what isn't. And then you realize that who you work isn't nearly as noble or benevolent as you thought, but you only realize that until after the fact. The next time you get an order and you know in your gut is wrong, listen to that. You'll save yourself a lot of shit in the process."
"Marine Combat Engineering badge of course...of my battalion at the time," Brielle tells him with a roll of her eyes because that so wasn't what she as planning for her first tattoo "So no matter where I go, I'll always have that badge on my bottom to remind me of my time here." Not a bad souvenir as far as it goes. It looks like Jacob's badge is much worse, deeper and she nods quietly when he mentions that the Virgon military aren't heroes. She lowers her voice and tells him, "I get it...folks make bad choices on both sides. And there's not good guys or bad guys...just orders and targets." There's a quiet acceptance that maybe Jacob doesn't have as if Brielle has been able to keep that part of the job in perspective, "Most of the time...I'm just handling the cleanup. Basically trying to stop folks from getting hurt by disarming bombs." She gives a shrug and tells him, "I guess I've been lucky that I haven't been put in a position like that." Given an order that put her personal honor code as odds with her job, "I hope I never do."
"Its not something you want on your conscience. Forget that you can hurt a lot of people if you're just doing your job." Jacob trails off, staring at the opposite of him. "No, nobody is right, and both sides don't come out smelling like a rose. I just thought that, we were better than that. Go in thinking you'll be doing some good, saving a couple of lives, and then you learn the people you worked for can be just as bad as the people they're claiming are so much worse." There's rumination going on in his head. "At least here, wearing a CDF badge isn't so bad wearing a Virgon one. Still have to wear their flag, even if it's not my country. Not anymore." He rises then, picking out a flask from his duffle, unscrewing it and taking a pull from it. That's not water in there. Nobody puts water in a flask. Doesn't look like he really wants to talk about it anymore. Maybe said too much as it is. "I got shift in little over an hour. I should get ready."
Brielle listens and nods, not having much to add there but she's very sympathetic for her old friend who clearly got knocked around by the system. She watches him take out the flask and take a drink. It's not her place to stop him but there is a flash of worry for her old friend, "Oh...okay. Hey Jacob, take care." She means it when she says it, "And...I don't know if this helps but I try to live in the now and leave the past where it belongs." She knows it's not easy for other folks to let stuff go...not like her that never looks back, "I mean...it works for me." She bites her bottom lip and then blurts out, "Oh and let me know if you want to hang some time or even help me clean up that tattoo. I'd really appreciate it." There's that olive branch of friendship offered. Not something she normally does these days but since Jacob is an old friend, she's making an exception.
"Sometimes, you can't go forward. Sometimes you're just waiting for the end to catch up with you." Jacob sighs, sounding perhaps a tad more fatalistic than, capping the flask. "I'm glad it works for you. Just..." he shrugs, not quite sure knowing what to say, but anything else he's unwilling to say outloud. He at least pauses at the last. "Yeah. Yeah, think that'd be nice." That's quiet, the way that's that said. Like the idea of having an actual friend and not just co-workers is something he hasn't thought about in a long time. "You let me know when you want to do that. Or what you'd rather have. Or just...I dunno, drop by and say hi."
"I'll do that," Brielle gives the grumpy soldier one of her brilliant smiles, just really glad to see an old friend, even if life has handed him a ball full of shit, "But...be fair. If I'm cramping your style, you let me know." She gives him a wink, "And I'll bring some of my drawings...maybe we can find one that would fit better." Cause yeah, she totally has to fix that tattoo. She can tell he has to run so she gives him a little nudge with her shoulder that doesn't move him at all but it's something she used to do when they were kids, "It's good seeing you Jacob. I'm glad I ran into you." And then she gets out of there so they don't do anything too silly like hug and stuff. She heads over to the treadmill and turns it on so she can start her workout and leave him alone so he can finish up his.
"You're not. Would've told you to get lost if you were." Jacob remark, rolling his shoulder. "It's..nice. To see you again. Doesn't make the ship feel so godsdamned empty." It's about the best she's going to get from him for right now. "It's just shit, all shit with me. And I'll understand if you don't want to deal with that." It's weird, not quite knowing what to say, so he'll just nod, grab his duffle and move on towards the showers before his next duty shift.