Drunken Cowboy Jazz
Drunken Cowboy Jazz
Summary: Things become awkward in the Red Wing bunks…then they get competitive.
Date: PH # 16
Related Logs: None

Just recently back from a CAP, Martin steps into the berthings with his flight suit unzipped and the arms tied around his waist. Sweaty and tired, he moves over towards his locker and spins the lock a few times until the combination is set. Yanking, there's the metallic shaking of the door locker swinging open quietly. Stowing his pistol first, he looks himself in a small mirror on the inside of the door as if deciding whether or not he has a blackhead. Leaning back, his eyebrows raise and lower, and then he starts digging for his shower supplies.

Some where around the time Martin is fishing for his soap and sundries, Eddie presses through the hatch, shoving it closed behind her a little harder than necessary. She stays there slumped for a moment, "I tried to sow some sodden seeds, I swore they'd spout defiant weeds, they'd spit right back from sidewalk cracks and rival floral symphonies. I sucked them through my soiled cheeks. They took root in my cavities. The rebel blooms my mouth exhumes now germinate in all I speak." She's not quite singing, more of crooning, along with a song that's playing through her earphones. As she walks towards her bunk, she lists severely one way, then tilts dangerously the other. Drunk much?

Martin looks towards Eddie for a moment, glancing in the direction of the personal bootle of whisky he has stashed in his locker. Considering, he slides a cigarette pack out and opens it, taking one and lighting it. Angling a little, he tosses the pack of cigarettes to land on Eddie's bunk, watching her for a moment. "I miss a party or somethin?" He says, grabbing his bag of soap and a towel, closing the locker.

Apparently the music isn't so loud that she can't hear Martin speak. Eddie pauses, drawing herself up taller. Why are people always giving her cigarettes? Not that she complains. A slow smile forms on her lips and she moves in his direction. "Party is where ever I am. C'mere."

"Yeah?" Martin says, looking towards her as she approaches him. Running a hand through his sweaty hair, he looks over her shoulder to the long forgotten cigarettes. Taking a drag off of his, he exhales to the side and sets his showering supplies down. Reaching out to ash the cigarette into the tray on the center table, he steps over to her. "What's up, Eddie?" He asks, looking down to her slightly shorter frame.

Eddie reaches down to unplug her headphones from the little player, twisting to lay the cord around the back of her neck and draping over her shoulder so its out of her ears. "Dance with me." She says, while slow jazz style music fills the air in the mostly deserted berthings. As if expecting him to comply, her arms are already raising, waiting for him to step into her embrace.

There's a little glimmer of humor in Martin's eyes alongside with a little bit of confusion. One eye narrows a little bit as he tilts his head to give her a little bit of a sidelong look, he cups the cigarette near the palm of his hand and takes another drag. Stepping up, he gives into the mischief with a blanket of innocence. Exhaling the smoke to the side, he finds the beat and does the very masculine and safe two step with a little bit of rocking to her shoulders. He offers her the cigarette. "…been a long time since I got to kick it on the couch with you, Mooner. What's the occasion?"

Eddie slings her arms around his shoulders and tilts her head towards his hand, her lips wrapping around the filter to take a drag without pulling the cigarette away from him. "Last time I tried to kick it with you, your sister was kicking your proverbial testicals." Her voice sounds lazy and husky with alcohol, but she's at least not slurring her words together. "You need an occasion?"

"No…don't need an occasion." Martin chuckles quietly, drawing the cigarette back away from her after she takes her drag, then takes one for himself as they dance to the muted sounds of the music from the headphones. "…was really hopin for a rematch on the game system that day too but frakkin Jupiter." He huffs the smoke to the side, shaking his head a few times as he exhales the last of the smoke. Holding the cigarette off to the side to not burn either of them, he looks back to her. "It look that bad?"

Eddie cants her lips towards the ceiling, letting the smoke drift out of her mouth by its own accord, rather then being forceably exhaled out. "Bad enough that I knew not to butt my nose in. Sam stuck around for the show though, huh?" She asks, casually conversting while they slow dance to music as smokey as both of them put together. Eddie lets her eyes drift shut, as if keeping them open is too much of a bother.

"Yeah she did. Out in the hallway. Jupiter mentioned there being a picture of me pissing in the mayor's car somewhere and we heard her laugh outside the door and busted her." Martin says with a chuckle, angling his head downwards a little bit, off to the side from her head as he starts to get a bit more comfortable. Closing his eyes for a moment to listen to the music, he pries them open again. "…so what's life like for you in this berthings?" He asks with a wry smirk as he dances with her, letting her arms remain where they are.

Eddie shakes her head slightly, just a little turn left and a little turn right. "Tolerable. Now that the world is ended, guess I don't have much of a choice." She sighs softly, more smoke drifting out between them. "Plus side is, if I screw up, there's no place to ship me back to." Her cheek rests against her arm, tucking her under his chin. Just an innocent dance, because sometimes it's just about human contact.

Martin leans forward a little bit, and then finally wraps one of his arms around her waist, taking the human contact in return. The music is easier to hear from this angle, and he takes a few moments to listen and let his cigarette smoulder. "Yeah…" He replies quietly. "…somewhere we all belong and not a one of us forgettable." Martin says quietly, nodding a few times. Letting out a slow relaxed breath, the stiffness in his shoulders fades a bit. "I'm actually starting to get used to it."

Eddie just lets the swaying be natural, following his lead with the gentle motion that's enough to lull her to sleep. With the tint of alcohol on her breath, it'd almost be possible for her to slip off into la la land on her feet. She's quiet for a moment, but finally she murmurs. "It doesn't suck." She admits.

"No…doesn't suck at all." Martin says with a nod, the side of his lip tugging into a quiet grin. Dragging off of his cigarette, he leans his head back and gives her room to take a drag as well. Holding the smoke in for a small moment, he exhales skywards, speaking quietly as he does. "I need a drink." He says simply, looking back down to her. "I got a bottle, want another hit?"

Eddie blinks her eyes slowly back open, the lids heavy so they remain half-veiled. Seeing the cigarette is offered again, she takes a slow pull on it. "You really think I need more?" She asks, laughter thick in her voice. "Alright, slick. You're pouring, I'm not denying."

"Fair deal if you don't mind the sweaty company yet." Martin says with a slow smirk, detaching from her and heading over to his locker. Leaving her with the cigarette, he opens the locker and grabs the bottle and two cups, setting them down on the center table. Then he goes through the process of starting to get changed, pulling off his flight suit.

Eddie slithers her arms away from Martin, if she's said that his warmth is gone, it's not showing. She's simply…Eddie. With her foot, she hooks out a chair with the instep of her tennis shoe. "I haven't complained yet." She murmurs, sinking into the seat. Hey, if he's giving a free show, she's not going to be above watching. "Wait. Hold on. I think I have some stripper music on here…" She mutters around the cigarette that's now tucked into the corner of her lips, unhooking the media player from her waist. Using the touch screen, she starts flipping through music and when she finds something appropriate, she unplugs the headphones so the music plays out of the player's little speakers.

Martin looks towards Eddie and blinks, ears going a little red. Making a face at her, complete with one widened and one narrowed eye and a snarl, he pulls off the last of his flight suit as the music plays. He turns his back to her and pulls off the tank tops, shaking his head a little bit. He glances back to her with a grin, shaking his head as he dumps the unclean tank tops into the bag at the bottom of his locker. "You know what it would be like in here if there was some sort of pole?" He asks rhetorically with a laugh, grabbing some clean clothes as he goes. "Damn…I'm not that drunk, Moon, pour me a drink ya slavedriver."

Eddie gives a laugh as she pitches forward, grabbing the bottle with a lucky lunge as fingers close around the neck of the bottle instead of sending it crashing off the table. She literally drags it back towards her, as if it's too heavy to lift. "So you're saying a few more of these, and you might be doing the twirly whirly on something upright and erect?" Concentrating, she manages to get the top off the bottle and pour some of the contents into the pair of glasses.

Martin grinds his head at a slight tilt, "noooottt exactly." He chuckles, changing out of his duty fatigues and grabbing his PT sweats, preparing to pull them on as he talks. "Way you make it sound, answering yes to that might give the impression I had eyes for frakkin' Yuuri." Martin snorts, a little rivalry apparently there. Turning, he watches her sidelong for a moment, preparing to step into the sweats. "But I did strip at a party back in high school. And…at flight school. Twice. I've seen pictures but can't remember any of it." He says.

Eddie is currently sitting at the table, with a bottle in here hand and two glasses of freshly poured liquor. Of course, it already looks like the Ensign has partaken of a few little nips already herself. She's half sprawled in a chair, looking like she was poured into it and with half veiled eyes, she's watching Martin slip into a pair of sweats. Raunchy music plays through a portable media player that Eddie has sitting on the table. "Well. Here's to blacking out again and not remembering anything in the morning." And with that, she's pouring even more liquid into their glasses.

Martin finishes pulling the sweats on and grabs a fresh tank top. Pulling it on over his head, he's sweaty and in definite need of a shower as he dumps himself into the chair beside Eddie. "I'll drink to that." Martin says, setting his cigarettes down on the table. Turning a little in his chair to face Eddie, his back to the door, he lifts up the cup and looks inside to see how much she poured in. Eyes raising, he shrugs. "Arright. I can do this." He smirks and then lightly crashes cups with her, leaning back to down his drink.

"Hey! What the hell?" Thus Kissy introduces himself into the berthings, "Oh, wow, I haven't heard this song in a while." This is Kisseus Matto, distracted by something shiny. "I mean. What the hell? What's all this about the Captain being off sports?" Trawling for information, evidently, Kissybear is.
Eddie clinks glasses with Martin before lifting it to her lips. She was just going to sip at it, but hey, he's tossing it back and she can't be one upped by the man. Her eyes pinch shut and she's doing her best to drain the glass in the same manner as he did. With a wince plain as day on her features, she's slamming it down on the table. "Your turn." As Kissybear makes his loud and exuberant entrance, Eddie's head lulls to look up at him. "Slow down. Use little words." A bleary smile is offered before she takes another pull of her dwindling cigarette.

Samantha has been asleep in her bunk, having done a double CAP and not really slept well for a night or two… so she was asleep. But resting isn't always relaxing, and apparently she's tossing and turning enough that she tosses herself right out of bed. Of course, she's rather quick to wake up, gasping in mid air and grabbing onto the bunk rail so she actually flips down, onto her bare feet, from restlessly asleep to awake in point five seconds. "…I'm awake!" She yelps out, as if it weren't obvious. She's just wearing Martin's big, black teeshirt with all the alcohol logos on it.

Martin is midway pouring the next round, dropping another two fingers of whisky into the two tin cups him and Eddie are competing with. He pours himself an extra two fingers, since Eddie's got a headstart. "You are -not- upstaging me Moo—" He grins darkly, going into competitive mode and then stops, seeing Sam flop out of her bed. Blinking, he lifts his head up a little bit to watch her stand. Seeing nothing broken, he grins and grabs a sheet of paper from the center of the table and leans heaaaaaaavily off to the side and yanks his locker open, grabbing a pen. "Being off sports? Hey you Raptor folk drink?" He shoots to Matto, leaning back to write on the paper. He holds it up to Sam with a grin.

It reads: 4.5

Matto looks down over Eddie, using his hands to add a few words in Colonial Sign Language to emphasize his point. "The. Cat. The. CAP. The. Frak?" He punctuates his question with the obscene hand-sign for a savage frakking, and then lifting his hands in confusion, though he looks up at Martin, "If you're pouring, I'm drinking," he chuckles. "No, seriously, though. I heard Black Cat got taken off flight status. Anyone know what the hell?"

Fenris, clad in her sunday best with her reinstatement, steps into the berthing with her usual demeanor. As she opens distance from the hatch, she unzips her flightsuit to get some airflow, but she doesn't take it off. Instead, comes a, "Good evening." toward the assorted folk in the various throes of inebriation and gravity.

Samantha looks over to the sign, chuckling faintly… she stifles a hald yawn and just pads her way drowsily over towards the little coffee pot in the corner of the room. "Please tell me this is stale and strong as sin…" She murmurs thoughtfully, picking up the pot and sniffing at it before she pours herself out a mug and looks back to the mixed group at the middle of the table…"Hm. What's going on?"

Eddie reaches over and turns down the volume of her music, even if it helps punctuate Matto's savage sign language. "Somethin' about her losing her marbles in a meeting. I'm not speculating. I'm drinking." Her gaze sliiiiiides over to Samantha who manages to not land on her ass with that bunk dismount. The smile on her lips turns to a wicked smirk. "Nothin'." Eddie answers Sam in a sing song voice of innocence before she's reaching for her cup again to slurp down the contents.

"Get a cup, Fur. Over by the coffee." Martin says, grinning as he takes up his cup. "Nothin my ass. We are getting straight shitfaced to see who passes out first." Martin says, giving Eddie a dark grin. "Correction. I am drinkin' Moonie's jive ass under the table because whoever passes first does the laundry for a month." Martin tilts his head, offering to crash cups with Eddie again, then looking back to Sam. "Coffee? What's up, Sam?" He asks, then grins back to Eddie. Clunk. Cups are crashed. "OnetwothreefourGO!" He tilts back, chugalug time…

Matto shakes his head, adding a few more choice phrases of disapprobation with his hands in the silent version of a mutter before he's muted by taking up a cup from the coffee stand and heading over to the table again. "How many am I behind?" he wonders, as to the drinking contest. In an easy motion he spins a chair around on one leg and then settle onto it backward, leaning forward to place the cup on the table.

Eddie tilts her head at Martin. "Ho-oh. Is that what we're doing now? Fine. Laundry. Hope you don't mind when your drawers end up pink and your favorite shirt could fit a poodle." Hope that's not Martin's favorite shirt Samantha is wearing. "Sir." Eddie greets Fenris, though her voice is starting to sound a little thick. "Three sheets and one half who-gives-a-frak. Better catch up." Oh wait. Martin's clanking and counting down. Crap. Chug!

Fenris doesn't elaborate on the Captain, it isn't her place. She carries on by, "Carry on. Do try not to hurt yourselves, please." she says, venturing toward her locker to fetch something while the others have some fun.

Samantha lofts a brow towards Eddie, and then over towards Martin. She doesn't quite say anything yet, still waking up after that rather spectacular landing, and trying to get her brain caught up on what's going on. She barefoot plods over towards the table and plops down near Martin, rubbing one hand over her eyes…"You all are… drunk? It's way to frakking early….or… late, or something… to be in the bottles. Ain't it?"

Matto ups the first drink slowly but steadily, not as heavy-handed a drinker as some here, not by a long shot. He finally settles it down, panting a little as he catches his breath, "Hey, if the viper pilots are in their cups, you'd better believe that's the place to be."

Chugging..chugging aaaaaand done. Martin's cup claps against that table as he blinks his eyes widely, sneering at the burn down the back of his throat. Reaching out to snag Fenris, he laughs. "Woah hey sorry I'm in the zone what's up Muddy?" He asks, grabbing the bottle and pouring a new round for himself, Eddie, and Matto. As he pours he looks to Sam, raising his eyebrows at her for a moment. "Well…I'm on my way, probably gonna catch up to it in a few moments, Eddie's two parts awesome. Matto's a Raptor crew so phfft. He's shit out of luck." Martin teases Matto with that one. "Care to throw a wager in on this one? I'm feelin confident right now." Martin says to Sam, winking at her and taking up his cup again. "Round three. Eddie calls fight and we start punchin…" Does he mean that?

Matto swallows and wavers a little bit as he stares at his rapidly refilling cup. Then he clears his throat, "I'm fine," he points out, "I'm good," he lifts the cup and chugs it down, with a little bit less inhibition. "Wait. What? Fighting's tomorrow night. Somewhere very far away from me."

"Don't have CAP for like, Eighteen more hours. Night's young." Eddie murmurs, letting her head lull back so her eyes focus on the lights above that are starting to look a little fuzzy around the edges. Smoke is exhaled towards the ceiling after another lazy puff from the cigarette that is Martin's brand. "Frak." She mutters, her head clunking back forward roughly. "I think…alright. One more." Assuming that by 'fight' he means 'go'. "Down the hatch boys." She declares, before slamming back the drink without bothering to clink glasses this time. As she goes to set the tin cup on the edge of the table, she misses, and it goes clattering to the floor. "Alright alright. I give." She mumbles, barely able to keep her eyes open, much less her speech straight. "You win. Laundry." She grumbles, then uncermoniously hoists herself to her feet, dropping a sloppy kiss on Martin's forehead. "Thanks for the dance, cowboy."

One of Fen's array of books emerges from her locker before it is closed and the lt. ventures back toward the gaggle, perhaps flock, of pilots at the table. With the ante upped, and Eddie's sudden burst of affection for martin, her eyebrow peaks a bit, "Someone should really get a bucket, I think it will come in handy, shortly."

Samantha is not jealous, is not jealous, is not jealous. She just keeps mentally saying that to herself. But the older woman watches young Martin and young Eddie in all there drunken loveliness and something in her spine just stiffens. All she manages to murmur is a simple, "I…think I'll stick with coffee, for now, a faint smile decorating her lips for them all, and then she nods towards Matto and Fenris. "You two get in. I… can keep count. Be sober referee or something…"

Samantha is not jealous, is not jealous, is not jealous. She just keeps mentally saying that to herself. But the older woman watches young Martin and young Eddie in all there drunken loveliness and something in her spine just stiffens. All she manages to murmur is a simple, "I…think I'll stick with coffee, for now…" a faint smile decorating her lips for them all, and then she nods towards Matto and Fenris. "You two get in. I… can keep count. Be sober referee or something…"

"Get in? Get… in?" Kissybear has NO clue what Samantha's on about. The smooch between Martin and Eddie gets a broad smile from the Raptor pilot, "Hey, hey pour, before I get too drunk," he goads Martin.

Martin raises his arm triumphantly as Eddie concedes victory to him. "Allright damnit, that's one month of my laundry. One month no less. Thank gods. I -hate- laundry." Martin grins. When he gets kissed on the forehead, he's calm and cool about it as the alcohol starts to barb its way into his state of being. "Yeah catch you later Moon, good times. Good times." He says, making a point to let her go without any more goading. Turning in his chair, he slides a cigarette into his lip as he pours for Matto and himself, looking towards Sam for a moment. He smiles to her. "I'mma make a killing doing this. Next thing you know I'll have candy bars in my stash." He grins. "Wager? What's fair. Matto? Fair? Let's talk fair. Let's talk wager."

Eddie goes to crawl into her bunk. Her /own/ bunk. Before things really start to slide down hill. No bucket necessary, but that doesn't mean she won't need to paw her way to the head and hurl in the morning. Eddie finally makes it to her rack after a bit of a stumble and a groan, and a touch of luck with the ladder. Passing out with one shoed foot still hanging out of the curtain.

"I'm on alert for three more hours." Fenris replies to Sam, "I forgot something." She continues to close the distance, eyeing the smooching with less of the initial surprise. The Raptor jock is given a quick once over, then what promises to be his drinking opponent before her eyes turn back toward the Samrod.
Matto hiccups. "A'right, a'right, I win? You take my friend Poppyflower on a nice date, show her a good time, yeah? What'd you want?" he asks in return, taking a suddenly leisurely sip at his third drink.

Samantha smiles over to Fenris for a moment, seemingly having done alright to shake most of the jealousy. she reaches over to the nearest pack of cigarettes, tapping one free and slipping it between her lips. "How's it feel to be back on duty, Mudguts?" And then she looks over to Martin and chuckles, lofting both brows as he mentions his succees…"She kissed you AND she's having to do all your laundry? I think I -am- jealous. She must be awful sweet on you… " And then she looks to Matto, blinking…"and he's dating Poppy too? I thought YOU were dating poppy!"

Matto furrows his brow at Samantha, "Poppyflower, no, no, she's, like, my best friend in… ever," he corrects the record. "We're not… no, not like that."
Matto woozes over the table a little. Chances of MArtin dating Poppy? Waning swiftly, at this rate. Hiccup.

"I feel useful, thank you." Fenris replies with a little shrug at the question, then, in counter, "Have you gotten to read any of that book, yet?" As the Berth turns, her brow arches again, then, "Saving the species?"

"Saving the species?" Martin blinks, the cups filled again. "Wait wha?" He says, the conversation catching up to him in waves as his eyes start to gloss over a little bit. He looks to Fenris with a lightly confused look, slowly starting to get it. Dragging off of his cigarette, he wraps an arm around Samantha, glancing to her. "Woah wai..nah that was just hangin out we wagered laundry if I drank her under the table which I did." Martin comments and then looks to Matto. "Naaaww no one needs to be jealous or nothing, damn dude you'd WAY have to clear that shit with Sam. I was thinkin head cleanin duty or somethin…" Martin raises his glass. "Round three?"

Samantha settles into Martin's arm, leaning a bit to the side there, doing her best to relax. She exhales a slow breath and then grabs the lighter from the pack of cigarettes and actually takes a flame to the cigarette's end in her hand… Once she gets the cherry going, she laughs and shakes her head to Martin and Matto. "No, no… no one gotta clear anything with me. I'm jus' another viper jock is all…" And then over to Fenris, she nods. "I read about 20 pages last night… should be able to get it back to you tomorrow. Smart shit in there but some of it's over my head. I'm… a bit of a practical gal, really."

"I'm so there," Kisseus flashes a bright, drunken grin to Martin and he knocks back the drink he'd been sipping down, finishing it up and then putting it down gently. "Ohhhgods," he takes a deep breath in through his nose, exhales through his mouth, "No, I'm okay. 'Ead cleaning, huh?" he runs his well-tended fingernails through his curly black hair. "Bleh, come on, guy man, Poppy's a great girl, no need to be all like that. Fine."

Fenris nods, "I understand. There's no rush, it isn't like I don't know where to find you. If you take it a little at a time, it may come a little easier to you." she says. She gives the woman a little clap to the shoulder before her eyes turn to the boys trying to drink each other invertebrate. "A cubit on Martin hitting the deck, first."

Downing the liquor, the cup from Martin wobbles a bit as it's placed down empty. "Just another viper jock my ass." Reaching out with his free hand to take up the cigarette in the ashtray, his cigarette, he takes a drag as he pours the next round. "Dude I'm dating someone. Someone that's probably two seconds from strangling me. I can't just take out another girl besides…takin out another girl? Where to? Shit man this place is all broom closet dates." He says with a shake of his head, lining up the next drink. "Hellyeah man, head cleaning." He lifts up his glass, looking to Mudguts. "Oh what the frak is that kinda talk? You bet against me?" The fire is lit.

Samantha looks between Martin and Matto, considering this with a slightly husky voiced laugh as she drags on her cigarette…"Ah…I think I might be with Mudguts on this one. Matto has a slow start. You're already two sheets to the wind ahead of him… Darlin, maybe it'd be best to cut your losses while you can." She seems more amused at her other half's determination to continue this match…"and what do you get if he loses, Kissy?"

"Jus' take 'er down t' th' game room an' play her a game of monopoly, yo, I'm not asking for you to… -lay- with her or whatever," Kissy points out, with that awkward way of referring to sexual relations with Poppy that is typically reserved for hesitant older brothers. "An' bring some a this booze, she likes to get hammered," he swirls the next round in the cup, getting up the stomach to down it.

Fenris reaches into one of her pockets and she lays the coin on the table. Simple. She gives Sam a look as her bet is seconded, then, with a little shrug, her fingers curl around the coin and return it to it's place of residence, "There's no point, if we agree." A shrug, then, "Broom closet dates is an interesting way to put it."

Martin considers for a moment, drumming his nails one the table. Leaning his head down close to Sam, he looks to her face. He lifts his eyebrows just a little bit and then back to Matto. "Sorry man I can't. I can hang with her and all that just like I do anyone else but I can't do dates man." He considers. "Double or nothing. Double up on your winnings since I gotta back out of that one. For real. But mark my words…" He looks around all of them. "I'm gonna win. Trust me."

Samantha considers Martin's final words and then she finally shakes her head, moving to get up and head for her locker, "Alright, alright, Mudguts…I'll take Martin's side on this. I should support the big doofus seeing as we're frakking and all and I do rather like sex, you know…" She admits with that usual husky laugh. "But… we should make it more interesting than money. What do you -want-, Mudguts?" She seems more interested with the other woman now, letting the men do their thing while she negotiates.

"Alright, nix the monopoly, just donate the booze," Kisseus relents, "Poppyflower will be cheesed to the back teeth I'm getting smashed without her," he grins. "Double the liquor, then. Or I'll take your toilet-cleaning chores. Which'll be fair enough after I chuck beets all over your head," he laughs.

Fenris actually stops to think about that one. What does she 'want'? The good news is, it's a short list. The bad news is, Fen has to -think- about it. While the boys renegotiate their wager, Mudguts, ever decisive and forthright, simply shrugs.

"Hell no you're not doubling down I'll take you right as you are right now. You'll need the extra room." Martin replies, wobbing a little bit as he moves his arm to be wrapped around Sam's waist. He grins at the mention of the frakking. "Damn right. Allright you two bet something we're gonna get this on. Head duty tradeoff and I'll get a bottle to Poppy if I lose." He salutes with his cup and downs it.

Samantha grins wide to Fenris…"I know what I want. If I win…I want you to tell me something that'll make you smile…or even better, laugh…that I can use in the future. But you still gotta decide what you want." Sam states warmly, still rather protective of the woman, it seems. She allows herself to be roped into leaning against Martin, resting comfortably against his arm even as she's still standing, her bare legs crossing at the ankles so she's pretty much just resting on one leg… "And I swear, Martin, if you puke on my bare feet, you'll be licking it up."

"… What?" Yeah, Kisseus' mental state has gone subtantively absent, and he struggles briefly to put Martin's words together, "Right. Liquor. Head. Scrubba scrubba," he summarizes, leaning forward onto an elbow, "You know, this is sorta nice," he dips a pinky in the booze and just licks it in contemplation. "You guys ought to come over across the hall sometime. Or we should start hanging out more over here."

"I'm not gonna puke on ya. I never puke on …well…that's how I got my callsign but that was just that one time." Martin says, pouring the next round for them. He reaches to tickle the back of her leg, a little high up under the long tee shirt that she's wearing. "Cmere baby. Take a seat." He says, lifting his eye at the massage. "Now clarification? Back massage or…" He wiggles his eyebrows. "Allright Kissyface. You and me…" He breathes, shaking his head a few times. He's plastered. "Round Threeve. Let's do this." He salutes…and downs.

Samantha looks over to Fenris, chuckling. "I think I'm gonna need that massage once I carry whiskey-ass here to bed… but sure. Massages for a week after every CAP." She offers her hand in Fen's direction for a strong shake on the deal to seal the matter. She then gives a bit of a yelp, swatting at Martin's hand as he reaches under that shirt. "Just drink your booze and be done with it so we can go to bed, or I might be bowing out and get the update in the morning!"
Matto leans back away from the back of his chair, taking the drink with him and downing a quarter of it, then a second quarter, then staring mournfully at the last half. "I gotta take a leak like holy fucking crap this stuff goes right through ya." He sits up again, though, and takes another quarter, then chugs the last.

"I'll get his feet." Fenris offers in deadpan, clasping the woman's hand to seal the deal. Her attention turns back to the drunken antics in progress, waiting to see how it turns out.

"Oh man no kiddin." Martin grins, setting the cup down. The bottle has about one or two shots left in it. The sad part? The wrapper from around the seal of the bottle is on the table itself. Reaching for his cigarette, Martin takes a drag off of it and then stubs it out, idly reaching back towards the back of Sam's leg, pinching her ass under the shirt. He looks to her, eyes wobbly. He gives her a sly look. "Well well…" He says with a slur to his voice. He pats the table. "Allright if Kissthefur is pissin I better to, s'only fair before the next round…" He says, standing slowly. He blinks a few times, wobbling.

Samantha blinks as she sees Martin wobbling, and she shakes her head. "I am SO not responsible for what happens here. Someone spill him into my bunk when he's done puking or drinking or both? And remind him to brush his teeth? I'm gonna try to get a few more hours before morning CAP. And… Fen, you gotta watch who wins, alright, or we won't know how to settle this!" She chuckles, heading over to her bunk and crawling up inside a moment later. Apparently, sleep was calling more than amusement in this morning. Or she just didn't quite want to see how naughty Martin could get when he was this drunk.

Matto tries to stand up a few times, but each time seems shocked to find something underneath him inhibiting his progress (that'd be called a CHAIR, Kisseus). He finally disentangles himself from the beast, and shands, shaking his head violently a few times before he breaks into an uncontrollable giggle, watching Martin wobble, unaware that he, too, is pitching dangerously, until with a gasp the floor's knocked out from under him, and he grabs onto Martin, who doesn't help at all, being mostly dead by that point, himself. And lo and behold there's a pile of passed out pilot boys on the floor.

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