Bandit
Bandit
Summary: An evening of sim revelry. Blacks v Bandits.
Date: PH203 (07 Nov 2009)
Related Logs: None
Players:
Jupiter..Martin..Absalom..

CEC Kharon, Hangar Deck, Simulators
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #203
OOC Time: Sat Nov 07 15:45:05 2009


The perimeter and walls of the room are lined with posters, white boards, viewing screens, file cabinets and lockers, which leave very little of the battleship grey bulkheads visible. A trio of small tables and chairs are set up by the hatch, allowing a space for crew to relax or study while awaiting sim time. Triad cards, some dishes, and a small coffee maker are lined up along the counter behind the tables. The paint along the steel floor is scuffed and worn in places, a testament to the volume of foot traffic the sims experience.

The dominant feature of the room is a set of four viper cockpits, complete with outside skin and canopy, which have been bolted in place. Retractable curtains separate the pods, two of which are modeled after grey Mark VIIs, and the remaining two after white Mark IIs. A trio of liquid crystal screens are positioned in an arc around each pod, providing a one hundred and twenty degree view of the sim world to each pilot. Behind the simulator setup is a control station with a view of each of the sets of screens.


The Simulators are pretty empty today, save one viper pod up and running with a Sim of a CAP around a planetary body. There's a smattering of asteroids nearby, a debris field, and the pilot is zipping through them at high speed, way too fast to be safe under real circumstances. But that's probably the point. Of course, it's Jupiter. She's silohuetted against the bright screen's display, light playing over her features as she zigs and zags. Her own viper is down for repairs on the deck, with totally frakked controls.

Having tracked his sister to the sim bay, Martin enters and quietly steps over to the cockpit that she's piloting in. Seeing the curtains pulled over, he looks to the board on the wall and verifies it's her inside. Resisting the urge to knock on the canopy, he steps over to one of the other three empty cockpits and closes the hatch. Sighing, he pulls the headset on. "Hey you. Thought I'd find you here."

Jupes pulls a sharp maneuver around an asteroid as the comms light up and her brother's voice comes through in her ear. "Hey, Boner. Grab a stick and light one up. I'm expecting some cylons any any time. I set this bitch to randomize." In the mean time, she's playing chicken with 'roids. Hey, this is kinda like the scenario in which Merlin bit the big one.

Seated in one of the three remaining simulators, Martin closes the curtain and starts logging himself into the system. "Yeah, you hear Spider call me that over the wireless yesterday? Shit, thanks, Peanut it's finally starting to get some legs." Martin says with amusement to his voice. The screen turns on and Martin's Viper materializes near Jupiter's wing. "So how you been? You've been harder to find than a keg of beer."

Absalom meanders into the simulators. He seems to be looking to blow off some leftover adrenaline from the day before. As he hears the sibling banter between Jupiter and Martin, he moves over to one of the open sims, and quietly seats himself in it. The man works on initializing as silently as possible, apparently attempting to catch the pair off guard with a life OpFor opponent.

"The only reason, little brother, that it took this long is because I'm being charitable." Juptier replies, slamming a pedal and throwing the viper into a sharp downward trajectory. Her proximity alarm sounds, but no bits fly off on the sim as she rolls just enough to avoid clipping a body with her wing. "I'm a frakkin' blonde and I haven't had sex in over a month. You do the math." Her attention is solidly on her readout, and she does not notice Abs logging in. "Boner, watch your proximity, but not too close. There's a three meter differential between what the proximity says and what you actually have. Someone programmed this sim for extra caution. I guess they were training some nuggets on it."

"Shit is that what that was? Damnit, no time to recalibrate that, thanks for the head's up." Martin grimmaces, diving to stay in formation with her as he gets used to the feel of the sims. "If there's something so wrong with being a blonde, then why'd you bleach it. It don't look too bad." Martin adds, ignoring the comment about her sexlife for the moment.

Absalom finishes his preflight, and then flicks on his screens. He glances sidelong at his 'ally' Raider, and then gives his throttle a bit of a push forward. The simulated DRADIS gives him a heading for his targets, and the man smiles a bit as he closes in on the pair.

Jupiter's silence reigns on the comms for a moment, and she pulles a difficult maneiver, hopscotching over a couple of asteroids, then under another. She's not silent because that sort of thing takes a lot of brain power. "I didn't bleach it." She glances down to DRADIS. No blips yet. In a field like this, it's hard to see them coming before they show up for sure. Particularly with this programming, you're lucky to catch ghosts on DRADIS before you have visual confirmation or a bogey up your ass. "It looks ok, but it's just not me." Which really means she didn't make the decision, so she doesn't like it.

Ducking his Viper low to avoid a series of asteroids, Martin keeps visual confirmation of her position as he weaves through the field. Glancing occasionally to his DRADIS, he suddenly gets it. "Ohhhh…so that's why…got it." Martin replies, still believing that they're alone in the sims. "If it makes you feel any better I've started seeing someone that isn't crazy. A little more refined than I probably deserve but I think you'd like her. She's into zombie movies."

"I'll give you a ride later Blondie, if I don't wear you out here first." Absalom says into his faux-ship comms, apparently having done something to scramble his voice. Of course, after he says that, he aims at the wrong target, lining himself up to attack Martin.

"Hades balls, Marty," Jupes replies, yanking the stick hard enough to ding her proximity alarm again. She almost takes a chunk out of a floating bit of digital rock. "The last time you said that, you got so drunk at the mayor's fiftieth, I had to fish you out of the cake naked with high hee — tha frak!" Jupes slows slightly, then hits a full stop and flip. If they were in space, the Gs may have made her want to puke. "Company's on the line, Boner. Light them up." She notes a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and the computerized Bandit earns her attention.

"Yeah I heard it." Martin replies, going evasive. Engaging his nose thrusters, he flips his bird to sail backwards through the field and then quickly dives down to roll past a few of the large floating asteroids. "Dogfight in an asteroid field with overly touchy combat detection? FRAKKING gorgeous. Were you expecting someone other than me, Peanut?"

Easy does it for Absalom. He glides his Viper in on Martin, and fires off a burst after his digital wingmate does. As the bullets score his target, he pushes his throttle forward, and switches his target over to Jupiter, calling over the comms, "Splash one by my count, you're next." Apparently he thinks the damage he gave to Martin ought to have been enough to knock him out, or, at least make him ineffective.

"Nope, just the computer. But the computer doesn't get personal over comms," Jupes replies with a smirk. She pulls hard to starboard and slams on the gas, burning hard for her target. She skips under a large rock, and comes up on its seven before taking a snap shot just as it opens up on her brother. She tags its wing, her shot just slightly off center. "Watch your six, I only damaged my bandit! Evasive maneuvers, Boner. I've got your back."

"Aw son of a bitch who the hell is this guy. Voice changer and everything." Martin complains as he gets double-teamed by the incoming attackers. Sensing by the man's words that he's going to bug off, he makes a hard right turn and rolls back up into the fight to pursue the bandit that was on his tail. Effectively entering two one-on-one dogfights, he gives the asteroids a wide berth to avoid setting off the hit detection. "Copy that, Peanut, I think he's coming around back after you. Watch your ass!"

"I'm a spectre, a ghost, a phantom. Somethin like that. Or, I'm just way the frak better than the Black kids." Absalom taunts back. He fires off another burst at Jupiter, and then, pulls back on his stick to avoid ramming an asteroid that looms into his viewscreen. The pilot does a roll around the rock, and then comes back around after Jupiter, apparently eager to finish her off before the pair of them take out his wingmate.

Jupiter catches a little glimpse of the second bandit out of the corner of her eye as it dips around behind her, following her moves. "You're gonna have to try harder than that!" She calls into the comms, as a shot dings her wing. "You gotta be good to ride this love train." She pulls hard to port, putting on speed that's inadvisible in these conditions. Her proximity alarm chirps again. "I took another little chunk out of your guy, disengaging to handle my own dance partner. He's humping my leg like a horny terrier."

"OOOooooh, man's got a flair for the dramatic. I think after this is done, Jupes, you and I should tape him naked to the chow line in the mess and draw dicks on his face." Martin adds, grinning wildly as he dogfights with his own pursuer.

A light whoop comes from Absalom as he lands a pair of hits on Jupiter's wing — though he takes a smacking in return — and he pulls around back in the direction of Martin. The pilot attempts to use cover to the best of his advantage as he ducks and weaves through the debris field, before popping up to fire a burst at his target. He's gone noticibly silent after taking damage.

"What are we, in high school again?" Jupiter shakes her head and drops down, hits the pedals and flips over to face her incoming target. She flips off another snap shot that tags him in the wing even as her own wing is tagged again. "Shit, get off my wings. At least it's not my controls, I guess. Nevermind, carry on. I've flown with most of one wing gone anyway." She's a chatterbox over comms, though usually the enemy can't hear her. "Get back here, asshole!" She calls into the comms as her target takes evasive maneuvers.

"Why not, when we're not on the job we got better shit to do. Damn, you'd think a Black will make it to full LT sooner or later, right?" Martin gripes, grinning as the bandit goes to the land where all pixelated things go after they die…the refresh queue. "Splash one. Now what was that about being better than the Blacks, mystery guy?"

His popping up from behind cover seems to work, at least well enough to save him from taking any more damage while he's outnumbered. He reaches down to flick a switch on his console and says in a voice that sounds suspiciously like a certain female captain, "Frakkin sexist. You'll pay for this!" He then switches his com back to the digitized mess that it was before as he rolls and spins and, this time tries a snapshot at Jupiter.

Jupiter's hot on the trail of her target. She dodges and zigs while he dodges and zags. Up, down, around. It's like a game of the fox and the rabbit, only with a shitload of floaty rocks right in the middle. She slowly closes on him, and takes a few shots, but just misses. She laughs over comms, and skirts a huge asteroid, kicking in the burn. "I like it rough, baby."

"I can't know that." Martin says flatly, rolling through the bandit's explosion and banking hard to start chasing the mystery pilot. Dodging and weaving through the debris field, he starts to take pot shots to harass the pilot. "You know, Jupes, I might have learned something from the brother of this chick I almost started dating. How would you feel if I started this new thing where anyone that dates you has to get beaten up by me first?"

"She'd never get a date and you'd spend all your time in the infirmary, hero?" Absalom asks as he rakes fire towards Jupiter's ship. Of course, in doing so he leaves himself open for return fire and she lights his cockpit up. The pilot hisses a bit and jerks his controls to port, attempting to get out of the line of fire, but, the simulator shows the evidence of what his cockiness has wrought: a line of holes running down the glass of his canopy.

"Boner, you already knew it whether you know it or not. I'm sure you heard me in high school. You remember that time I told you I was moving furniture? So. Not." Jupiter cackles into the comms again, a throaty, absolutely amused laugh. Oh, sibling banter. "If you want to beat up the guys I date, you'll have to go a few rounds with me in the ring to be sure you're up to it." Awww. She said she's more hardcore than her brother. "Here kitty, kitty — OH. Owned." Jupes squeezes the trigger as her crossheirs line up perfectly on Absalom, and she shoots the shit out of his cockput, in a maneuver that surely would have ventillated him. "How's that feel, chuckles! Haha." She pauses, then notes, "Side note: That's what it's like to date me."

"Damn this dude or something's got a mouth on it. First it's a robot, then it's a female, then it's a eunuch. Hey, you're screen shuddering enough over there?" Martin taunts, grinning as his shots go wide but his sister's hit home true. Easing off the focused aiming, he continues to weave through their dogfit, taking pot shots as he goes. "Oh I'm sorry, I forgot if I did all of that, Peanut, I'd have to beat up enlisted. You and your Aerelonian farmer stock. You know…I never thought I'd feel the urge to tell you this but do you remember the time that you ran off to get beer and I was at the house alone with Tiffani Ayers? Yeah, she gave me shit just like you did but it was a nice kill."

Jupiter's viper is fairly spry, no major controls damaged in the exchanges, though there would be a lot of cosmetic damage to hammer out, maybe a little welding if the combat weren't simulated. She drops in trajectory with a slip of a pedal, and comes within inches of clipping her tail on a rock. The proximity screams in her ear. "Frak you, Boner." She shakes her head and gets control of her viper just in time to pull up to see her brother ding the target. She doesn't even get a shot off.

Absalom leans back in his chair as the cameras on his simulator go to third person view with the light ding he takes on the body. Martin's shot apparently hit something vital as there's a brief flash inside the ship, and then, it careens into a nearby asteroid, blasting into billions of bits. The man exhales slowly, and starts shutting down the sim.

A round of sardonic laughter cackles across the wireless as Martin speeds past the mystery pilot. "Yeaaah, I frakked my sister's best friend without her knowing about it and I frakked this bitch-nugget that thought he could take us both on." Martin says, grinning over the comms as he goes back into his CAP position. "All in all, I think I'll chalk this up to a win."

And, as he's shutting down the simulator, he flicks off the voice modulation he had on. Absalom says into the comm, "Bitch nugget? You call me that again Dash and we'll see just how often I set you up for easy kills in the future." He then flicks the simulator completely off, and pulls himself out of the cockpit.

Jupes shoots out of the asteroid field, headed for the orbit of the nearby planetary body. It's a pretty view, and an easy cruise, even hands off. She rolls her shoulders and reaches for the canopy lever, popping hers open to fly al fresco. She leaves her earpiece in. Jupes doesn't fly the sims in a helmet. It gives her bad hair. Over the comms, she notes, "I would have owned you without my little bro along, sugar. We'll go one on one sometime." She dims her screens down, and keys in her logout. "Tiffi was a whore and did half the pyramid team high on crystal after she broke up with her steady. I loved her dearly, but I hope you got checked after that. Syph could explain some of your behavior this year, though…" She climbs out of the cockpit, and reaches up to sweep her fingers through her hair, loosening pale blonde curls from the tail as she goes. "Shadow, aren't you just the cutest little aggressor today."

"It was before all of that." Martin says as his own cockpit opens. "Honestly, if she would have dated me I would have gone for i, but you and the pyramid team would have killed me." Climbing out, he grins towards Shadow. "Ohhh I see so you're gonna nail my sister, besmirch my family name, but I can't call you bitch nugget?" He laughs, folding his arms. "What was with all the dramatics, anyhow? If you take us down, claim that shit."

"Its always fun to see if a few words can throw someone off their game." Absalom replies lightly to Martin, before grinning sweetly at Jupiter, "You're just saying that since nobody else took you up on it. Though, I can see why not if dating you is like getting shot in the balls." The 'besmirch my family name' comment gets a mock hurt look from the pilot, as he places a hand lightly on his chest as if to say 'me?'

"Like he ever would have taken us down," Jupiter replies, with a little roll of her eyes to her brother. "Not all of us go down as easily as Tiffi." There's a slight raise of her eyebrows before she takes out her earpiece and unhooks the wireless adapter from the console. Jupes brings her own toys for sim practice. "Real men don't crumple after a shot in the balls."

"And good at it she was." Martin replies, referring to the legend of Tiffi. "Just don't ask where it happened." Martin adds, grinning quietly as he looks to Shadow. "Do you think for a second after growing up with this lady right here that I'd get thrown off my game for a little shit talking? Time at the dinnertable was verbal warfare, pal."

"I lasted a whole…fifteen seconds or so after that. There was no crumpling at all." Absalom protests, before pushing off from his sim and wandering in the direction of the other two. At Martin's comment about growing up with Jupiter he grins and adds, "I see she beat you into calling her a lady at the very least."

"Tiffi was like a sister to me, Boner. What's mine is hers. That includes my bed." Jupiter grins, unphased by the implication that her brother did something untellable between the sheets of her very own crash space. "I just hope you changed the sheets, you dirty monkey." She flicks a glance to Abs, "I beat a lot more than just that into him, but it takes time for you to see it all. How do you think he survived that gangbang we just had in the sims? It comes of ambushing him with drunken pyramid players in twisted games of cat and mouse, and setting his locker on fire before fina —" Oh, yeah. Martin didn't know about that. That it was her. "… You lasted longer than I thought you would," she says to the other jock, "Good on you." There's a grin from her. Change the subject. La la.

"Sounds like a personal problem." Martin replies to Shadow, and then suddenly turns to look at Jupiter. "You bitch!" He blinks. "Oh my gods I spent the entirety of fall break having to redo the project that was in that frakkin…" Martin slugs his sister in the shoulder, shoving her towards the wall. "That's okay, the reason your car smelled like piss was because I kept pissing in the air filter."

"And you're worried about me besmirching your family name?" Absalom asks, raising an eyebrow at the littany of admissions the two are sharing with one another. He shakes his head a little, though, he leans against the simulator Jupiter stands next to, and says, "See, this might be why you've not gotten any in a month."

"…" Jupiter's attention turns from Absalom to Martin. She grimaces a little. "You nasty little prick. Animals piss in other people's cars!" She still has a bit of that grimace lingering when she glances over to Absalom. "I think you're right, Shadow. Gods, how did I get saddled with this?" She blows out a breath. "You should have stayed on him and put me out of my misery. If the safety settings hadn't been tuned up on that sim, you might have on the sneak attack." Mutter. "I'm turning them down tomorrow." Recal time!

"Then we'll do this tomorrow again, same scenario, maybe bring in a fourth?" Martin asks, lifting his eyebrows as he folds his arms. "If anything it'll give us simulated hours to throw in our jackets so that when we get promoted the pay gets better." Martin says sarcastically as he pauses, starting to eyeball the two of them suspiciously.

"I'd say put it in atmo. The kiddies are gonna have to learn what flying there is like, especially if we keep havin to rescue resistance fighters or jarheads." Absalom says to Jupiter, before shrugging at Martin, "Bring your mystery girl along. Even if she's a deckhound I'm sure we can teach her how to point the ship and pull the trigger. Even a monkey like Poet can do it."

A snicker follows Absalom's remarks. "Have you ever seen a nugget with absolutely no flight quals try to stear a viper? It's like throwing a drunken frat boy with vertigo into a giant hamster ball and telling him to run in a straight line." Jupes shakes her head, "You put it in atmo, it's like doing it during an earthquake at a rave. Would not stand a chance. It's not like we're driving raptors here."

Martin laughs, shaking his head from left to right. "No, no I'm not gonna bring my girl into the sims. She's from medical. No chance in hell she'd be any good and she'd probably think I did it to throw her under the bus." Martin replies, looking back up to their faces. "So what did you guys think about yesterday, get a look at the facility?"

"That's the whole point Fingers." Absalom says slyly to Jupiter, before shaking his head at Martin, "Not really. I was a bit busy gettin shot up since my wingman had to zip on home for cuddletime. You missed OT, forty odd Raiders fillin the sky with lead. It was pretty, what with em all exploding all over the place."

"Damn, sounds like I missed a party. It was a bitch landing my frakked up viper. Those bastards keep going for my controls. I think I've cycled through about three hydrolic lines and I don't even want to talk about the pounding the deck has done on wolf-13. That thing is cursed. I swear." Jupes runs her fingers through her hair again, then snaps the band from it onto her wrist.

"Your SL, don't forget that. I've been in this war for as long as you but I've been in more of the major conflicts. Spider put me where I was because I know my shit, so if you're on my wing don't get all cowboy on me alright?" Martin replies, clearly for more conservative pilot between the two Black siblings. Sighing, he runs his hand through his hair and looks to his sister. "So what are you up to tonight? Wanna go grab some grub or a movie?"

"By, getting all cowboy you mean giving you two free kills while the toasters tried to eat me, right?" Absalom asks in a light tone. He's apparently not bothered at all by Martin's words as he adds, "I wasn't sayin you fraked my ship, I did that all on my own, just next time stick around for the whole game, yeah?" He smirks and says to Jupiter, "I'll trade you, straight up. Thirteen for eighteen."

Jupiter can't help but smirk as Martin goes all 'schoolin' on Shadow. She reaches up to rub her hand over her face, perhaps to hide that smirk. "No way, man. My ship may take shit, but it's got my name on it. That means it survives against the odds." She flicks a look at Martin, and indicates him with her hand. "Look at the gene pool." A wide grin follows. The siblings share eyes, and those shiteating grins, but otherwise can be very, very different. "Besides, 13's my lucky number."

"Stick around for the whole game? Hey, RTB escort's an honorable place to be. One viper protecting one wounded Viper even if the girl piloting it is as good as my sister is?" Martin scoffs, lowering his brows at Shadow. "Speaking of gene pool…do you guys know if they're still requesting donations down at medical? We could get drunk and make it a social event…"

"Search me, I don't think they take any from you though if you're plastered." Absalom replies, glancing sidelong at Jupiter for a moment as she covers her smile. He shrugs a little and adds, "And, anyways, I've gotta get to briefing and figure out what the hell replacement ship I'm gettin this week. Best not be twenty, that ship stinks."

"Boner, stop showering me with compliments," Jupes replies, "I'll start to think you're after something." She gives him a slightly arched brow with that look, suggesting he's not getting her smokes. Her smokes she keeps squirreled away somewhere even Castor hasn't found yet. No, not there. "I don't think they want drunken blood, but it never hurts to give. I heard some marines got mowed pretty hard." She thinks on it a moment. "We should go donate." Maybe she's feeling guilty about someting marine related. Or maybe she has a heart. Whut.

(We paused here, but ended up all eventually just going to sleep. Watch out for future additions.)

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