Life The Universe And Everything
Life the Universe and Everything
Summary: Drinking leads to a conversation that goes all over the place.
Date: PH 039 (28 May 2009)
Related Logs: Directly after: Handbaskets And Where They Go
Players:
Castor..Cygnus..Kassia..Castaine..Willem..Sen..Kai..Dutch..

Castor steps into the lounge with a bag that he has procured from his locker, he then moves to a metal table surrounded by chairs, "I've got vodka and some beer. The beer is warm though seeing as how I can't keep it cold." He puts both on the table, "So, you like the men folk, huh?" His tone is very matter of fact without a hint of disapproval. He pours himself a shot of vodka and opens a warm bottle of beer.

"Vodka, please." Somehow Cygnus thinks the beer isn't going to be nearly strong enough after a night like tonight. Now that the laughter endorphins are wearing off, he's actually starting to feel a bit sheepish. He's always catagorically stayed 'in the closet' so to speak, for fear of possbile reprisal. Only Castaine knew the truth, prior to tonight. Now? Now no doubt it will be all over the ship long before morning ever comes. Thank frak he still has some cigarettes left, because right about now he needs one, and he pats through his pockets until he comes up with a tattered and dogeared pack and a lighter. One is pressed between his lips and he offers the pack to Castor. "I…" He's not quite certain what to say, now that it's all right out there out. No pun intended. "Yeah… That's… That's not a problem is it?"

Castor pours a shot of vodka and slides it over to Cygnus. He then takes his beer and raises it drinking nearly half the botttle in one swoop as he puts the bottle down on the table an, "Ahhh." sound comes out of his mouth indicating satisfaction. He then looks over at Cygnus, "Nope. Not a problem why is it supposed to be a problem?" He asks as he picks up his bottle of beer again. "I don't care who does what with who so long as everyone is of the consenting age."

Cygnus breathes out a sigh of relief as he takes the the bottle and lifts it to his lips. Nope, there's absolutely no niceties involved. A few swings are knocked straight back, before he sets it back down. He hasn't drank since he and Yuuri stopped being friends. Oh frak. God only knows what's going to happen when /this/ tidbit filters through the ship. "Thanks," He says, both to the vodka, and Castor's acceptance. "Frak. Marek is Sagittaron." There's a long, low sigh. "I really hope this doesn't screw me into being stuck in the Chaplain's office for the rest of my days." He doesn't /think/ the Captain would exclude him from the Squadron based on his sexuality, but then again Kai's a tough read, and a hard ass, so it's really difficult to tell. "I've never… Shit, I've never just outed myself before. Some people get really uncomfortable and touchy about stuff like that… and I guess I just haven't wanted to deal with it, you know? I've always kept sex far, far away from any of my postings." Which has left Mac with a pretty dull and intermittent leave-based sex life to be sure.

Castor lets the man speak and drink. He does down the two shots of vodka, they were poured and never let good booze go to waste. He then turns to Cygnus and says, "Well, it is out now so just wait and see, besides, we need pilots right now, and your skills are more important than some sort of religious crap." He leans back in his chair, "Well, we are soldiers first and like I said, I haven't been with a woman in seven years ever since I was assigned to the Orpheus." He then says, "If it makes folk uncomfortable just avoid them even if it is hard on this little tub we live in."

There's a blink in Castor's direction. "Seven years? Wow." Not that Cygnus has had any sex in more than a year at this point, himself. Tin's words surprise him though. He wisely passes up on the obvious wisecrack of 'you need to get laid'. "Then again, like I should talk. From everything I've seen, there aren't exactly any likeminded men around here, so it's more than possible it might just be me and my hand until the day I die." Well, frak. Doesn't that just suck? Because of that fact he takes the bottle again and downs another swig.

Castor looks at Cygnus, "Hey." He says in a tone that is heavy, "No beating yourself up right now." He says supportively, "You never know someone might be waiting to find someone who doesn't care if the ship knows. You might find someone tomorrow or the next day. So no beating yourself up. Got that." As Castor speaks he sounds a bit like Pollux did when Castor wanted to give up on things long ago. He adds, "On Aquaria we have a saying, 'keep moving and keep breathing because the tide might bring you something new tomorrow.'" He finishes his beer and says, "So, just think about that okay."

There's a nod of acknowldgement to Castor's words before Cygnus admits quietly, "You've been a really good friend, Tin. Seriously. Thank you for that." Gods knows unconditional friendship seems hard to find in this day and age. The last time he trusted a friend? Well, pretty much the entire ship knows what that earned Mac. "I just don't want to be treated any differently, you know?"

Castor takes the bottle from Cygnus and then he tips back a bit seeing as how formality went out of the window, "Well, why should you be treated differently? So what you like men and how does that have an effect on your work? Sexuality isn't our entire life you know, I mean, it is a fun part but it is only a small part of who we are." He then hands the bottle back over to Cygnus, "Don't go thanking me, you're crew and so you're family. Family looks out for one another, even the Padre, but don't go telling him I said that."

"That's very true," The combination of the booze and Tin's acceptance has Cygnus relaxing, and he oozes down in his seat a bit, letting his eyes close as he enjoys the low hum of slight intoxication pushing through his bloodstream. "Still, there's some really backwards pigheaded people out there," Mac's not speaking of anyone actually on the ship, just his general experiences over the course of his life. "Gods know my father would have been completely appalled if he ever found it." Yup, that causes him to frown a bit. "Personally, I think it's all pretty stupid. Love is love. Sex is sex. And yeah… I pretty much considering everyone on this ship to be my family as well."

Castor nods his head, "Yeah, well, your Dad isn't going to find out now. So, just let things be Cyggie, so word has gotten out maybe this will be a good thing and if someone gives you shit then report it to command." He opens another beer, the man hasn't slown down really, though he doesn't look like he is very drunk. This fish lives in booze and not water. He does laugh slightly, "You know the other day when I joked that you weren't my type I had no idea that you liked men." He then says, "Funny how sometimes jokes backfire on you like that."

"I pretty much guessed that," Mac chuckles out in return, taking a long drag from his cigarette, allowing the smoke to curl down into his lungs. Wow does that feel good. After a moment his eyes pop open and focus themselves on his friend, "See, that's a perfect example of what worries me. How many people that would have joked with me about something like that yesterday, won't tomorrow? I'm not saying /you/ will, but there's bound to be some that will 'watch what they say' around me now." Yup, that gets a big frown.

Castor takes a sip of beer, "Yeah, well, they might but you know what, from what I could see in the recovery ward you have a lot of support and it seemed like everyone was having a good time." He is speaking again in supportive tones, "So maybe a few people will, but to be fair, all of us have to watch what we say here, especially to those in authority." He then leans back in his chair a bit. It seems like the booze is starting to mildly tingle the Aquarian's head given how fast they have been drinking.

Now that right there is something that gives Cygnus a moment of pause. "That's what I worry about. The higher ups. I mean, it's not like they can transfer me off the ship, but they can make what's left of my life a living Hell since, conversely I can't exactly transfer away from here, or submit my case to a higher authority. End of the line, if Sheridan doesn't like it? I'm pretty frakked."

A hand drifts upwards and Mac runs it back over his bound hair, nodding his agreement. "Sorry, you shouldn't be stuck talking me down." He starts to chuckle a bit. "Frak, what a night. I still can't get over even hearing the word 'lesbian' come out of Poet's mouth. Frak me! I couldn't beleive some of the stuff he was saying. I just hope he's not going to have a stroke if and when he remembers it sober." There's no way that Cygnus can't chuckle over that. "And who even knew Case was capable of blushing?"

Castor offers dryly, "Marty most likely knows Case is capable of blushing." He then takes a sip of his beer, "Poet was talking about Lesbians, that must be one hell of a frakking drug he is on." He then adds, "And, I'm not stuck with talking you down, like I said, you are family now and so I gotta look out for family." He then says, "Seriously, lesbians huh?" He takes a moment to think before he chuckles, "Maybe it would do Poet some good to remember what he said and heard."

"Frak, we've got to remember to write out sex tips… do you think Cat was really /serious/ about that?" Because for his part, Mac is having a hard time imagining Poet even wanting to touch a book that's about sex. He shakes his head a bit, "I mean, poor Poet gets all uncomfortable if people even touch around him, and we're going to give him a personalized sex book?"

Castor offers, "I think the Cap was pulling your leg, Cyggie, besides, if the CAG ever caught wind of it we'd be in for a world of hurt." He says in those Aquarian tones, "Besides, I doubt Poet would read it. Now, if a sex guide was written for the crew that could be a laugh." He offers, "Way I hear it told the Padre knows some kinky stuff." He then pats his pockets, "Frak no cigar." He shrugs and takes another sip of beer.

Cygnus does that thing where one of his eyebrows shoots up into his hairline, "Wait… The Padre, my /boss/ is kinky?" That causes him to sit up a bit on his chair and he just stares across the table at Castor. "You know what. I can't even let my mind go there, because down that road leads trouble. I mean, I have to work under hi…" He catches that and ammends it with a laugh, "I have to work /for/ him." Because under him? That's a whole different thing, that Mac can't allow himself to even start thinking about.

Castor lets out an honest to goodness laugh at that one. He takes a moment to collect himself though before he says, "Comic gold that one was." He takes a moment to finish off the beer he has been drinking, "Making a play for your XO might not be such a good idea." He then takes a moment to ask, "Seriously, how can you work with the Padre, he busted in on Case and I in the head the other day and he was being all religious and crawling into folks heads."

To that, Cygnus answers seriously, "Because my father was a High Priest of Ares. I've lived with a priest my entire life, so I'm way too used to it. Plus, not like I don't have the training myself. I just never got ordained." Though, truthfully at this point Mac figures if his newfound openess about his sexuality somehow guarantees he never ends up in the cockpit again, that may well end up changing. "Gods only knows what will happen in the future with everything. If I'll be a pilot or a priest. I suppose at the end of the day whatever happens will be the will of the Gods one way or the other." He knows Tin is among the non-religious on board, and he silently hopes speaking in such a way doesn't make his friend uncomfortable.

Castor looks at Cygnus and then shrugs, "Well, at least you keep your religiousity to yourself. If you want to believe fine, I don't give a good frak, but don't rub it in my face." He then reaches over and takes the bottle where he takes another sip of the vodka, Castor is now offically relax and buzzy, "Anyway, I'm sure he is a nice enough man but frak quit trying to tell me I lived because the Lords wanted it, I got enough of that shit when I was born and a prophecy was made."

Cygnus stiffens for a moment at that. "I've never been one to try and impose my beliefs on others." Clearly his mind is spinning around and around on that little tidbit though. "I know a little bit about stuff like that. I've had… stuff happen to me my entire life. Dreams. It's what's got me pulled from active duty. You want to talk about it? I promise I won't try to get all religious on you about it."
ooc one sec

Now, if there was any way to talk to Castor about religion this would be it, drunk and not direct, "Yeah, well, see, I'm a twin, well I was a twin. My brother Pollux was born just a few minutes before me and so I'm technically the younger brother. Anyway, my parents were the religious sort and they took us to an oracle who said, one of us would die and one of us would be a hero." He then takes another sip of vodka, "Now, my parents died when I was young and we were suddenly on the streets so my brother Pollux was the one who looked after me, I was lost without him." His eyes begin to look a bit watery, could be the booze or it could be tears being held down, "And he was the hero, you know, he was the guy who pulled me out of it all. We were eventually taken up by child services and we never really found a home but it was okay because we were together and then Pollux got into flight school. You would have liked him, always smiling, never gave up on people, never lost hope." He takes a breath and then picks up his bottle, "Pollux was the top of his class and he was sent to train others for a few years. I ended up going to the same flight school, took me some extra time though because I was such a general frak up in undergrad, my grades were okay, but I didn't want to study." He then says, "So, I never had Pollux as a teacher." He takes another sip of vodka as this becomes an emotional drunken rant, "Did you know his callsign was Gemini, on account us being twins." He then says, "Anyway, I was there, I saw him die. There was a landing accident and he just…" he rubs his wet eyes and says, "so the wrong brother died and now I have to live like Pollux because he was the right brother, no more frak up Castor and if your Lords are real then they have a cruel sense of humor."

That's something that Cynus has been thinking for a long time now. His own problems are secondary at the moment though, and he reaches across the table to give Castor's arm a squeeze of support. It's a comforting gesture, nothing more, and yet in light of everything that's come out tonight, he feels a bit self conscious about the contact. Like touching is somehow off limits now. The touch doesn't linger, however, and he sits himself back in his seat. "I've thought that for awhile now, though I haven't said as much to anyone. Either way, I don't think you're meant to /be/ your brother. You just have to be you, Castor. No one else, other than that. Don't let anyone, or anything make you think, or believe, any differently, okay?"

Castor looks over at Cygnus as he is touched, yup, the eyes are watering and tears are being held back. The odd thing is his face, there is no hint of his puppy dog self, there is no hint of the detatched unemotional fighter pilot, there isn't a hint of the street rat, there is this look in Castor's face that looks vulnerable and confused, "I don't even know who Castor is anymore." He says softly.

"You'll find him my friend," Mac asserts quietly, but there's a surety in his voice. "I know what you're talking about all too well. Until about five months or so ago I know exactly who I was. Then everything went crazy on me, and I lost my status which tossed me into this sea of what the frak is going on?" Has it ever been a burden to bear, too. He's never truly opened up fully about it to anyone, other than Mia, who knows part of it all. "I can't figure out what the Gods want with me with the wringer the Fates have been putting me through."

Castor look at Mac with the same tabula rasa expression for a moment before he asks, "What do you think the Lords want from you?"

"I have absolutely no frakking clue anymore, honestly. And I almost fear talking to the Padre about it, though I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to at some point." Now it's apparently Cygnus' turn to share his lovely little tale. And it's a doozy. First though, he has to reach for the bottle and take another swig. For courage. Or whatever. "All my life I've had dreams. When I was really young, it was simple stuff. The first one I can remember? Our dog ran away and we couldn't find him, and I had a dream that showed me where he was. Easy stuff, you know? Or… having a dream my aunt was going to be a car accident. Stuff like that. Strictly a one shot deal. Until I got to college that is. One of my two Masters is in military history, and the semester we started studying the first Cylon War, things started to change." At this point he has to roll his head to the side to crack neck, which gives a satisfying pop, as he waits to see if Castor is interested in hearing more of the sordid tale.

Castor nods his head slowly, "So you started to see things then I take it? Visions and the like?" He asks as if he wants to hear more about what Cygnus but he does move to open a beer as Cygnus speaks.

A nod is Mac's first answer. "Yeah, and it extended to other things too. Sometimes before a flight I'll just blurt shit out, like… watch your three, and then whoever I said it to will narrowly avoid danger coming from that direction. That's how I ended up getting my callsign, actually."

A nod is Mac's first answer. "Yeah, and it extended to other things too. Sometimes before a flight I'll just blurt shit out, like… watch your three, and then whoever I said it to will narrowly avoid danger coming from that direction. That's how I ended up getting my callsign, actually."

Castor asks, "Did you take chamalla extract at all?" His voice is changing as the puppy dog comes back and whatever was behind the puppy dog, behind Pollux is gone. He then says, "Or was it just something else something supernatural or you know were you good looking at patterns in things?" He asks the questions slowly but deliberately as if looking at all the possibilities.

Oddly enough, the Padre had asked him just that two nights before, "I've never touched Chamalla, I was always too worried about what it would do to my reflexes." Exactly the same thing he said to Ajax. "I've never had an actual 'vision', just the dreams." Mac falls silent for a moment to gather his thoughts before he continues, "Anyway when we started to study the first war, about once a month that semester I'd have this terrible nightmare. I could never make sense of it. Death. Destruction. On a scale I couldn't even begin to comprehend. I shook it off though. Figured that it had to do with the subject matter I was studying. Especially considering all of my precognitive dreams were strictly one shot deals that came true quite soon afterwards." Again there's a long pause, followed by a low sigh. "Then about a year ago, that dream came back. Worse this time. I could never quite see it all, you know? I just knew it was horrific. Epic proportions kind of stuff. When it first came back, it was intermittent, then it got to the point where every time I drifted off, there it was. I'd wake up in cold sweats, which progressed to me screaming my head off. Then I just got plan shit scared to even sleep. Well, obviously it took it's toll, my reflexes went down the shitter, my status got yanked, and here I am now, assigned to the Chaplain's office since I have the full training of a priest." There's an ironic laugh that bursts out of him, "Of course the kicker? The kicker is, now that the frakking thing has actually /happened/? It's gone, and I sleep like a baby at night. I have to wonder though, why? I think I figured that part out. I know you don't like the religion thing, but I have to believe that horrific dream is what saved my life. After all, if it hadn't knocked me out of the cockpit, I'd have still been a full Eltee," Another nugget of info there, apparently the entire affair has cost Cygnus some rank as well, "and would have flown out with Solaria's Air Wing and been destroyed along with the rest of it. So I can't even figure out what the Gods want of me anymore."

Castor says, "Well, I'm no fan of the Lords but I won't say that there might be something bigger than us." He curses himself slightly for repeating something the Padre said earlier and something Castor had said before, "Well, maybe you are supposed to be alive. Maybe it is your destiny to be alive." He then takes a moment to ask, "So you had dreams about the attack." This information does make him pauses as he takes a sip of his beer, he then looks over at Cygnus and asks, "How did you get busted down to being a jig?" His tone is concerned and curious, this is after all information that he did not know and it is a bit of a shock.

"I've never been completely clear about the hows and whys of that particular command decision," Mac admits with a shake of his head. "I'm lucky they didn't wash me out. I think if I hadn't had the Masters in Divinity I probably would have been discharged for medical and psychological reasons. I guess they figured that since I had such a exemplary jacket and there was a good chance that the situation could ammend itself, they might as well put me to work in another department I had training for." There's a shrug of one shoulder upward. "Though, seems to me like a of Chaplains sit at the full Eltee rank, so that might have something to do with it. According to my jacket - which as far as I know never made it over to Kharon - it was provisionary pending my return to active status at the discretion of the reviewing officer. Honestly, I don't give a frak about my reinstatement rankwise. Would it be nice? Well, yeah, of course, but it doesn't really ammount to a hill of beans these days. I mean, it's not like I can look at being a career officer the same way now. I just want to help protect my family. I can fly, which means I can help keep everyone on this ship safe. That's what's important to me. And yes, they were definitely dreams of the attack because when we made that jump into the space the Constatine was in? I had the weirdest sensation of vertigo and deja vu. I knew, Tin. I /felt/ it in that weird 'between-space' you know what I mean? When time goes all frakked up? I knew the dream was real and about to happen, and it was the most frakked up thing to /know/ that everything was about to come tumbling down."

Castor takes all of this in, he is attempting to make sense of all of this as he offers, "So, command thought you were crazy and busted you down for your dreams." He then looks over at Cygnus and says, "And you could just feel it all just happen." He pauses, "So, you see into the truth of things and you just have this moment where you know that the shit hit the fan." He then asks curiously, "Have you have any dreams since the attack?"

"Not a one," Cygnus admits ruefully, "and honestly? After all of this? I'm fine with that. Whatever happens will happen in regards to that. I'll take it as it comes, I guess." He does feel inclined to point out, "It wasn't the dreams themselves that lost me my status and my rank. It was the affect they had on me. You go months without sleeping more than maybe 10 minutes a night and see what it does to your ability to fly a bird." There's a mirthless chuckle, "Though I don't recommend it. I don't think you remember running into me in the hallways and the mess hall when I first got here, but I remember you," He grins now. "I was that emaciated, jittery guy who looked like he was ready to jump out of his skin all the time, you gave me wierd looks a time or two like 'what is that dude on'." Mac's still skinny, he always has been, but his entire demeanor has changed back to what it was before things started, now that he can get real rest again.

Castor nods his head, "Yeah, the make up threw me off to a bit. Nothing wrong with it but it is an unusual sight to see on a man." He then takes a moment to say, "If I ever have problems with sleeping I just drink till I hit the ground, sure I feel like hell the next morning but I got my rest so you know try that or go to the doc and get some sleeping pills." He then rubs his chin, "Though yeah months without a sleep isn't a good thing for a body." He takes another sip of his beer before he offers, "Also, lay of the mascara your eyelashes are already long enough though the eyeliner works in its own way, makes you look like a pirate."

Cygnus has to laugh at that. "Hey, at least I only wear it when I'm off duty!" Which is an absolute truth. He's very careful about when, and how he wears it. He already knows he's skirting the edge with his past-shoulder length hair. He'd fought about that with a superior or two over the years, but had won out, stating that there was absolutely no requirment for women officers to cut there hair, as long as it was worn neatly out of the way. "The eyeliner has nothing to do with my sexuality though. Back in college I fronted a band for a number of years. We all wore it, and the other guys were all straight. I guess I just got used to it, you know? Eyeliner, different hair colors, black nail polish. It was all part of the 'look'. Now it's just like putting on a comfortable old pair of sweats, really."

The Aquarian muses, "It sets you apart from all of the green, black, and grey on the ship. It gives you a sense of identity so you aren't just a pilot you are a human being." He then adds, "And I never said wearing make up had anything to do with sexuality, way I hear it men on Caprica were wearing make up in an attempt to attract women." He says, "What sort of music did you play, I'm going to guess sort of alternative rock?"

There's a grin at that assement, "You'd be spot on there. We were pretty good. Actually, once I went and joined up, they got a new singer, and got to be pretty big. The upside of it was that I got some sweet royalties from the songs we wrote together that I had no problem with them continuing on with. If all this hadn't happened, I was going to be set for life financially." Too bad that went out the window. He gives his friend a conspiratorial grin, "Wait til you see what I'm planning for Colonial Day. I'm sure I'm going to make some waves around here. But, that's half the fun of it. I love being unpredictable off duty.

Castor leans in and says, "Well, next time come to our talent show." He grins, "Because we could all use a bit of music right about now." He then asks, "So tell me more about the kind of music you were writting I mean anything I might have heard?"

Cygnus frowns a bit, "I had planned to, actually. Unfortunately we had an emergency and I had to help take care of it. I wouldn't have missed it for any other reason." Mac had been looking forward to that talent show. "As for anything you'd have heard? Depends on what type of music you were into." There's a pause, and he closes his eyes. He doesn't answer with words, but instead, with his voice. A true, clear, tenor with hints of a raspy edge to it. The song would be very familiar to anyone who was into the alternative genre.

What if I wanted to break?
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do?
What if I fell to the floor?
Couldn't take this anymore?
What would you do, do, do?

Come, break me down, bury me, bury me!
I am finished with you!
Look in my eyes, you're killing me, killing me.
All I wanted was you.

The melody dies away and he glances across the table at Castor.

Castor listens to the man sing and he nods softly along before he says, "You helped write that huh?" He takes a moment to process this before he says, "Well, you've clearly got som talent and when I try to host another talent show I'd love to have you come along and make it this time." He takes a second to remember the song that was just sung and the rest of the music behind it before he says. "I suppose we will need to find you an electric guitar of some kind though." His mind begins to think of anyone who may have such a thing but nothing is coming up so far.

"Yeah, seriously." There's a shake of Mac's head, as something occurs to him for the very first time. "Oh, frak me! Artemis. Frak! She's gone!" There's a hint of distress in his tone, clearly he seems to be talking about something /other/ than the Goddess of the same name. "I mean, I brought Pythagorus with me," His acoustic perhaps, "But I left Artemis back on Tauron!" Clearly there's some type of sudden mourning going on here.

Castor isn't an idiot when it comes to people and so he offers, "You name your guitars then?" He considers, "Do you think you could build one?" Trying to get the mans mind off of the lost guitar.

"Yeah," Comes Cygnus' admission. "Py is the acousting I have with me, Artemis though. She was beautiful. Custom made for me, and embossed with a raised griffon on her. She didn't play, she /sang/." In truth, that guitar had become an extension of himself. Well loved, and well played over more than 15 years. A family member in a way. "I don't know if I could build one." His mind whirls around and around, "But! I bet I know just who /might/ be able to!"

Castor doesn't know anything about guitars but he notes how important the they are to Cygnus simply nodding as the man speak. He then takes another sip of beer and says, "Well, who could make a new guitar for you?" He waits a beat, "It isn't the Chief is it, tell me it isn't the Chief, I mean maybe she could."

Cygnus scratches his head at that, "Actually I wasn't thinking of the Chief… I was thinking of our resident machine expert. I mean, if Nine can create little robotic spiders, if I can give her the specs, I bet she can build me a guitar. I'll have to talk to her about it when I see her." And she isn't prostate in prayer at the foot of the altar after tearing at her hair and baring and beating on her breasts. Really, the things one sees as a priest.

Castor offers up, "She worships Dionysus." Strange thing for Leda to know given his track with the religious members of the crew, "You might find her worshipping him." He then adds, "And yeah, Nine could build you a guitar though make sure that you don't want it to sprout arms so it can play itself or something odd."

"I know," Mac replies, "I've had the occasion to observe her praying more than once now. It's quite the… sight. Something else really." Of course, everything about the engineer is pretty much something else, when you really think about it. Especially since Cygnus is privy to the secrets of her sketchbook, thanks things that happened between himself, Yuuri and the woman not long before the attacks.

"Hey Cygnus, you really believe what you told Nine, about cylons?" Leda has been meaning to talk to Cygnus about this for the longest time but now he is drunk enough to bring up the subject. Scratch another beer. Castor then leans in and take another beer out of his bag, how does this man get all of his booze?

It takes a moment for Mac to get his head around what exactly Castor is asking. "About them not having souls?" That's the most assiduous of the things he's said regarding the Cylons that comes to the top of his head at the moment. Just the topic sends him searching for his pack of smokes and he pulls one out and lights it. "How could they have them? They were programmed and built. Not born. Not created by nature. They're entirely man made. The way I see it, they no more have a soul than the vipers we fly have souls."

Castor says, "Yeah, but, didn't the Lords do the same thing?" He then goes on to add, "I mean, sure we are born but where does a soul come from and what is it? I mean if you are religious you might say it is all the Lords, right?" He then takes another sip of beer his tones are genuinely focused on the philosophy of it all.

A deep drag is taken off of the cigarette before Mac even tries to hazard an answer. "I'm not an expert in this stuff, but at least by my reckoning, something needs to be alive to have a soul. Cylons are programmed machines, but does that constitue true /life/?" Now there's one Hells of a question for the Padre. "Maybe we," He pauses to correct himself since he can guess what Castor would think to that idea, "Or maybe I, should ask the Padre what his take on it is, one of these days."

The Aquarian leans back, "Huh?" It seems to amuse him that he has stumped Cyggie, not in a mean spirited way, but more of a so priests don't have answers for everything. "Yeah, if you could ask him I'd appreciate it. Let me know what he says because to be honest, I'd really like to know." Leda clearly believes in something but he is nebulous as to what it might be.

"I'll try to work it in at some point," Cygnus agrees. "Don't know if it will be today, because I have no clue what he wants to see me in his office about." That idea causes him to wince, since he really hopes he hasn't gotten on the preacher's bad side somehow. "Definitely going to be interesting to see just what he wants."

Castor and Cygnus are sitting at a table with metal chairs the table is covered with empty beer bottles and a half drunk bottle of vodka. Castor has a half drunk bottle of beer in his hand, though and Cygnus has a cigarette in his hand. Castor is most likely moderately drunk at this stage of the game. He does add, "Well, if you want I can go yell at him for you first, last time we talked I was threatend him saying I'd look for a way to bust him to the brig if he ever began talking about religion outside of the chapel or to those that didn't want hearing it."

"You know, Tin," Mac arches a brow at his friend, he's in a relaxed state, although merely pleasantly buzzed as opposed to drunk, "I know how you feel about priests, but honestly? He /is/ a good man, regardless of his profession." Cygnus feels he has to stick up for the man, at least a bit. "Believe me, I know just how /hard/ it can be to have shit tossed in your face by people who don't believe the same way. It gets hard. You don't like religion shoved in your face, but imagine the shoe on the other foot, my friend. Imagine having someone denegrate and ridicule you because you don't believe in the Gods. That's what we get from people. It can be rough. Priests are just humans, with feelings, like the rest of us poor schmucks."

Kassia walks into the lounge looking like a Zombie, she heads straight for the coffee pot and makes herself a strong sweet one. She finishes it's production takes her first sip, turning around as she does to lean her back against the work top, her eyes close and for a few wonderful moments this crazy ass universe seems perfect…Aha Coffee. And then the voices reach her and her few moments of peace are distrubed. "Oh more spite and hate, how refreshing." The small pilot drawls, she's tired and some what cranky and the last few days have not been her favoutite.

Castor pauses to look at Cygnus, "Yeah." He says softly, though it is a bit unclear to which part he is agreeing with. "I'll try to be more civil to the man then. Frak, it is what Pollux would do." He then turns and looks over at the door as Kassia and offers a friendly, "Hey you." He then adds, "I'll try not to be spiteful no more, I promise." He then takes a sip of his beer, "Care for some vodka for your coffee I mean." He then adds, "Cyggie and I have been jawing up a storm over here. How have you been?" His eyes look concerned for the zombie looking woman and he pats a chair at the table.

"It's just, you have no clue how it affected me when Yuuri started tossing the 'preacher go back to your flock' shit in my face after the attacks,"Cygnus speaks from experience on the matter. "And we all saw how that ended." With Cygus ending up in sickbay after what was supposed to be a controlled fight. He lets the matter drop though, and turns his attention the Raptor pilot. "Hey, Flash. Just wake up?" His head cocks to the side for a moment, "Don't worry, there's been a lot more laughter than spite around here."

Castor holds up his bottle of beer and says with a laugh to Cygnus, "You'd also be the first." His tone is teasing however. He then looks back at Kassia, "I'll play nice now, promise." He says in puppydog tones. He then takes a sip of his beer.

"The first?" For a minute Mac gives Castor a blank stare, and then… and then he /gets/ it, and oh, my Gods, does he start to blush. Again. Two times in one night. That could very well be a new record right there. He's inclined to tease right back, "But Tin," the eyelashes go batting away, "you keep telling me I'm /not/ your type!" Yup. Castor walked right into that, much in the way someone walks face first into a sliding glass door they don't know is there. Of course, poor Kassia has just gotten done saying that she's tired about hearing about sex and religion, and where does the conversation go? Mmhmm. The poor woman. It's funny now, how easily he can joke about it. He's pretty sure the news of his newly 'out' status has to be halfway, if not all the way across the ship by now, anyway.

Kassia just sips at her coffee and gives that suffering sigh. "You know one of these days, I'm going to get what I want…And then…Well I'd be complete." She looks over at Cygnus, for a few moments then it finally registers. "I bet you just broke a few hearts." She gives a toothy grin. "Oh well, your going to make a whole new bunch cry themselves to sleep." She places down her coffee and stretches her short daners body and smacks her lips sleepily. "You know Castor." She jokes. "You aint had sex in seven years, I aint at all…Maybe we should." She says her eyes twinkling with suppresed laughter, she's teasing him with Mac, why not in for a penny in for a pound right?

Castor looks back at Kassia, "You know, Flash, you do create a powerful sense of yearning in a man." He says moving to the joke, "Like I said Cyggie you're not my type." Wait, was that a reversal, oh snap, it was. He leans in slightly to gently bump his forehead to Kassia's forhead if she let's him. He then adds, "And just because I haven't been playing well with the Padre doesn't mean I don't get along with you."

For a minute, Cygnus seems poleaxed, and he just blinks at Kassia a few times. It's been awhile since he's pulled an all nighter, after all. "I haven't had any women throwing themselves at me, Flash." Which is true. Grace flirted with him, but that was about it, and he hasn't even seen her since. He can't keep from needling his friend though, "I could be your type. You just don't know what you're missing." He's wearing that stupidly innocent expression again, but the twinkle in his eyes makes it clear he's not serious in the least. If he were really flirting with Castor, rest assured, Tin would /know/ it.

Kassia sips more of her vodka laced coffee, or would that be coffee laced Vodka. She's never drank so much in her life. Again that cute little snort of her's. "What gave you that idea, I might as well be see through." She says going to closes her eyes and let the hot liquid burn down her throat and hit her belly, she can feel herself relaxing with every sip. When Castors forehead touches her's she brings her fingers up to run down his cheek gently, and smiles. She then looks towards Cygnus. "You not the only one, I don't think one guy has flirted with me since I got here." She sips more of her coffee, her eyes going back to Castors. "Just as well, I got more meaningingful things to fill my nights with…Oh like sleep." She yawns, sleep is good.

Castor smiles as Kassia touches him he smiles and then leans back so that he can take another sip of beer. "Or drinking. Drinking is good, it gives us a chance to be merry and it helps us sleep." The last bit he says to both of his companions at the table. "Anyway, being flirted with isn't normally a pilots style, we are more like, 'so, you wanna frak right now?' So, I wouldn't expect any flirtting besides can we talk about something else like, what are we gonna do now that the cylons are here. What do you think the plan is?"

Kassia eyes begins to drift close and before she knows it, her coffee is on the table her head following soon after, and all that can be heard are a few little breaths to indicate she's asleep.

A frown presses its way across Mac's features, "Dude. Seriously? Don't kill a good buzz with the Cylons, please?" There's going to be no rest for the wicked today, because Cygnus knows he has to go meet his CO sometime soon. "Who knows what went down in the meeting, honestly. Maybe I can get it out of the Padre. We'll see, I guess."

Castor looks over at Kassia and lets the woman sleep for a moment, "Wait, you could get that out of the Padre, by all means do, I doubt the Cap will tell us jocks anything. Seeing as how we are just supposed to fly and not ask questions but yeah, any sort of news is good news."

"Marek's a real hard ass isn't he?" That's one the parts of being in the Air Wing again that Mac isn't looking forward to, but he'll manage. If he makes it in at all. He starts to blink again, when poor Flash falls asleep there there, face down on the table. Because of that, he pitches his voice at a much lower volume. "I'll see what I can do, but the higher ups really seem to be in love with the gag orders on anything important."

Castor grins, "Hey, I trust Papabear looks out for us and we are a crazy ass lot." He then turns to look at Cygnus and says at an equal level, "Yeah, just let me know if you hear anything." He then leans back, "Anyway, fancy a beer." He is sitting at a metal table in a metal chair, Kassia is asleep in a chair beside Castor and Cygnus is smoking a cigarette on Castor's other side. The table is covered in empty beer bottles and there is a bottle of vodka that is a just about half way full.

It's probably apparent to Mia by now, that big bro has pulled an all nighter. Understandable after the endorphin rush of earlier in the evening. He may not have slept, and he may be somewhat pleasantly buzzed, but he's not full on drunk. Probably a good thing too, since his sister might just hand him his ass for being in that particular kind of state. At Tin's question he waves a hand, "No, I hit my limit hours ago, thanks. I do /not/ want to deal with the Padre drunk, you know?"

Castaine is still in her duty uniform, likely signaling her coming off shift, given the pale tint to her cheeks. Someone is not quite back to 100%. She's carrying a mug in her hand that looks made of… yes, tin. Her nose wrinkles at the smell in the lounge , she can't help it. Booze. Yuck. Hazel eyes flick around and when she spots her brother a brow raises. Instead of making her way to him, however, she heads for what has become the excuse for coffee of late.

Castor looks back at Cygnus, aparently he is moderately drunk, "Fair enough, a man has got to know his limits." He then chirps, "I know mine but I just sort of pass out first." He says in playful tones. He then looks over at Castaine and he gives a wave. He then says softly and lowly to Cygnus, "Are you going to be in trouble?"

Oh oh. Totaly busted now. Mac's right back to feeling somewhat sheepish. It's almost like getting busted by your parents. But worse. A lot worse since Mia could hand Cygnus his ass in new and unsual ways that his parents would never have dreamed of. To Castor he simply says all in one explosion of breath, "Ohyoubetchya."

Castor looks at Castaine, "Point of correction Petty Officer, one pilot and one priest. Look at that and we are drinking together, this is a historic moment." He then says, "As for the booze, I learned how to get things growing up, and so as long as I live I will find booze." The last bit is slightly proud in the way that only drunk people can be, "And Cyggie here is only buzzing." He does offer, "If you aren't on duty I've got a warm beer or some vodka you are welcome too." He then looks over at Cygnus and gives a look like, 'you're all clear for the moment it would appear'.

That much is true, Mac never really did get drunk, just a nice shade of relaxed after the events of the evening. "I've never been one to get totally plastered, sis, you know that." Judging by the complete coherency of his speech, and the lack of slurring, that much seems true. He might as well just cut to the chase anyway, "I guess you could call it my coming out party." Three times. Now Mac's blushed three times in the span of 12 hours. That right there is /definitely/ a record.

"No, a historic moment would be a pilot and a marine drinking together when fighting wasn't involved" Castaine offers back before turning the full weight of those wide hazel eyes on Mac. Clearly Mia has know about Mac since she's not overly surprised at his words. "Then I suppose congratulations are in order." She still has that 'your ass is so mine later' look. "I'll be sure to increase your run time by another two miles to account for what you've drank tonight."

Castor seems to be able to hold his own when he drinks, he should probably be slurring a little more but he isn't even his movements are practiced, clearly the Aquarian is a professional drinker. He looks over at Cygnus, "Shhhhh, don't let her know that because then it will be all screamy and shouty and then we will have tons of hurt feelings to ruin the fun of all of this." He then turns as Castaine says something about congratulations and he gives a sudden, "Huh?" he pauses for a moment and then says, "Well, I did not expect that reaction." He then adds, "So, do you want to drink with me to create another momentus occasion?"

"You know, the Padre insists I need to /gain/ weight." Of course, Castaine has never actually seen Cygnus sans shirt. If she had, she'd know you could literally count the man's ribs, and would likely agree wholeheartedly with his CO. Of course, what Mac knows, and Tin doesn't is that Mia doesn't drink, and the poor pilot is kind of digging his own grave right about now. Gazing over the table he draws a finger across his throat to signal that maybe Castor might want to tone it down a little bit. For his own good, of course. He turns serious, admitting, "It feels good, kind of free you know? But it's a frakload of scary too. I hope it doesn't damage my chances of getting back into the Air Wing."

Castaine gives a little shrug, always the realist and ever blunt. "And it might but all you can do is keep working towards your goal and don't give up. You know that." The workout isn't to lose weight so much as it is to build a solid muscle mass, something he /does/ need. "Anyone gives you any flak, you send'em my way. I'll deal with'em."

Castor looks over at Cygnus and then to Castaine and he simply says nothing for a moment. After all he knows how to take a social cue. However he does take a long drink in his silence before he offers, "And if you want to fly you need bulk up a bit man you don't want to pass out pulling g's. Ditto with the Petty Officer on people frakking with you."

And that right there? That would be why Castaine is the ideal sister. It would also be why Cygnus loves her more deeply and more meaningfully than anyone else he's ever loved in his life. Of course, Tin's words remind him exactly why the other pilot is rapidly becoming a very true, and best friend. "Thank you," He murmurs out to both of them, a bit of emotion rasping up his voice, making it huskier than normal. "I have been bulking up. Been running ten miles a day, and doing all the strength exercizes you've given me. Even when I haven't been able to make it to the sims." He hasn't taken a day off of PT yet, truth be told. He's got two protectors now, and the thought warms his soul.

Castaine holds that evil little sister glare for a good minute before she relents and leans forward to drop a kiss to the top of Mac's head. "You know I love you more then the Corp," she tells him - which is /really/ saying a lot. It's almost like 'I love you more then breathing'.

Castor looks over at the brother and sister for a moment and then he remembers Pollux and so he simply leans in to pick up the vodka bottle and then he leans back as he throws the bottle back and he takes a good and long drink from the bottle. He quietly sets the bottle down and then he takes a moment to look at his shoes if for no other reason than it means he doesn't have to think about siblings, well, not really, but he isn't ruining this moment and examining his shoes is an excuse.

The look that Mac gives Mia is full of warmth and love as he replies right back in the exact same vein, "And I love you more than flying." Which is pure, simple truth. He's a bit surprised she's actually showing this side of herself in front of someone else. But by his accounting, he's glad of it, because who better than the one other person who he knows is in his corner. Cygnus, though, is a very perceptive man, even pleasantly buzzed, and he leans forward and reaches across the table again, as he did earlier on first hearing the tale of Tin and Gemini, and gives the other man's arm another quick, comforting, squeeze. "So!" It's time to the change the subject and put his friend back in the comfort zone. "I'm planning things for Colonial Day. What about you two?" His eyes swing to Mia and settle there for a minute, "I'm /so/ going to need your help to pull it off though, sis."

Castaine makes a face at Mac. "Are you serious? No. No way. I'm not taking part in that .. sham. Did you /see/ what happened to Ashe? No.. " It does matter the uniform she wears, she bleeds Marine and always will. Dropping back into the chair behind her, she gives him that stubborn lift to her chin.

Castor takes a moment to look up before he comes back to the real world, "Oh, that…I had no real plans though I know you are going to need a guitar. We need to find Nine." He then adds, "If I had a plan it would probably just be drinking and seeing what others are up to. Listening to your songs as well." His speech is a bit slower than normal, yup, he is on the good side of drunk now. He then asks, "What happened to Ashe?"

A frown etches itself across Cygnus' brows. Ashe is another one he's starting to consider a friend. Especically because of their mutual admiration of Castaine. "I went to go catch up to him tonight, but that… that… that scary as frak woman kind of took me aback and I tucked tail and ran the other way," He admits with chagrin. "Sis, I hate to admit this, but she is scarier than even /you/." There's a pause. "Well, I might be able to change your mind about that. Because I have a feeling if I get my look together, an old one I absolutely loved, jaws just might drop and hit the floor." Mischief, thy name is apparently Cygnus. A nod is shot in Tin's direction, "And yeah, I need to find Ms Nine. I really need an Artemis the Second."

Castaine sets her tin aside and folds her arms over her chest, her look anything but convinced. "Present your case," she tells him as though they were in court. A brow remains perked upward over one eye, that chin up. It's a look Mac knows well - Mia is mere inches from digging in and then he'll never win.

Castor looks at Cygnus, "When you say look what exactly do you mean?" He asks, "Are we talking alt rock or indie rock here?" He then rubs his eyes for a moment. Castor himself is sitting at a metal table covered in empty beer bottles and a bottle of vodka that is almost half full. On his left is a sleeping Kassia and on his right is Cygnus who is talking to Castaine. It would appear that Castor might now in fact be good and proper drunk. "Or are we talking like weird purple undwear and see through raincoat with an oddly shaped guitar and a pompador haircut?"

"I will sum up my case in one succinct line, Sis." And here, Mac is pretty sure he can enlist her. "Do you really, truly, trust /me/ of all people to dye my own hair?" Enough said right there. His nose wrinkles up as he glances over at Tin, "Alt of course," a dismissive hand gets waved, "Indie, not on your life, thank you very fraking much. I'm far, far cooler than that."

"I will sum up my case in one succinct line, Sis." And here, Mac is pretty sure he can enlist her. "Do you really, truly, trust /me/ of all people to dye my own hair?" Enough said right there. His nose wrinkles up as he glances over at Tin, "Alt of course," a dismissive hand gets waved, "Indie, not on your life, thank you very fraking much. I'm far, far cooler than that."

Castaine sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose in the way mothers often do when their offspring is flinging themselves head first into a brick wall. Slowly her hand drops back to her lap, wide hazel eyes flicking up to look at her brother. "Are you seriously going to risk every step towards the cock pit you've made?"

Castor says, "Well, I thought it was a valid question I mean you did say this was a wild idea." He then takes a moment to grin to Castaine, "If you dyed your hair I'd recomend shaving it all off after the show cause that wouldn't fly." His voice is slow now and he begins to eye another beer though he refrains for the moment. He then looks at Castaine, "Does Cyggie ever listen to you?"

Willem quietly and anonymously slips into the lounge in his off-duty threads, slightly damp hair(looking fresh from the shower here) and a large stack of papers underneath his arm. He closes the hatch behind him and then proceeds to make tracks towards the bar. As he makes his way towards, shuffling rapidly, he lazily darts his head about to see if he can catch anyone he knows in the place.

"We're allowed to dress civilian," Mac points out, then adds, "besides, they've already all seen me wearing eyeliner. What's a little hair dye?" He tries another tack. "I've spent my whole life hiding and who and what I am, and now? Well it's not like it isn't out in the open now. Somehow, I think I'm a lot more likely to be excluded from the Squadron for being gay, than for coloring my hair. Besides, I have my natural color in supply anyway. If people want to make a beef out of it, I can easily die it right back the way it is." A deep breath is drawn inward, then exhaled. "Honestly? The Padre seems to accept me for who and what I am. If the Air Wing can't and doesn't respect that, then maybe it's the Lords' will that I remain in the chapel. I'm sick of hiding. Why should I have to?"

Castaine pushes to her feet, a hand reaching for her now cool coffee. "Knock yourself out, Mac but remember one important thing. You don't have to impress the Padre with how serious you are about flying. You -do- have to impress Spider and Torch. To do that you have to prove you can be -more- then they think you are. So you really believe that parading around with your hair dyed and acting like anything other then a serious contender for that air wing slot is going to accomplish that?" Mia has -always- been supportive of Mac so the very fact she's being so opening critical now must mean she feels strongly he's going to frak himself out of what he wants so badly.

Castor notices that Castaine didn't answer his question but before he responds to Castaine he spots Willem and he shouts, "OI REBOUND!" loud enough that everyone in the room to turn and look at the people seated at a table, ah drunks, they are so much fun. He then looks over at Kassia and makes a sudden, "Eww…I hope she doesn't wake up. I mean she was all sleepy and cute looking."

"Hey Rebound," Cygnus calls across the room to Willem, it's been awhile since he's seen the other pilot. Mia's words bring a slight pout to his lips, "Fine, frak that. I'm just not going then." That seems to be the end of that. Colonial Day can go and jump off the end of a bridge as far as he's concerned at this point.

That did it. Wil stands, straight up and diverts his course slightly, hearing Castor's mighty, well, bellow and continues to make a beeline towards where he is seated, giving the other two companions of his a glance. He puts on a look of sheer sober seriousness as he nods towards Castaine first and then Cygnus, grinning faintly at both. He hasn't noticed Kassia just yet, if she's hanging around in here somewhere. He slaps his papers down at an empty table-space near Castor and the title page shifts a little in the breeze created by its impact. It reads - 'My Analog Life' - written in neat handwriting. The other subtitles beneath it aren't as easily legible, although the word 'Bullshit' can be made out somwhere in there.

Castaine sighs, shaking her head at Mac. "Don't go pouting at me like you're five. That's hardly fair. You wanted me to point out things that might lessen your chances, which is what I'm trying to do. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear." She gives him a long look, taps the end of his nose with a finger and walks away with a backward wave to the group now gathered.

A single eye opens and looks across the table at Castor, just one even the single eye looks somewhat annoyed at being rudely awaken. "Lieutenant." She drawls softly. "Is there need to make so much frakking noise." Kassia begins, well one could ask why she decided to take a quick after CAP nap here rather then her bunk. As Willem walks over she opens her other eyes and smiles at him. "Hey you." She says softly.

Castor looks at Kassia and says, "I umm…and your awake…and…sorry." He says in drunken but honest tones. He then asks, "Flash, were you dreaming?" Before he turns to look at Willem, "How's the chronicle going?" He then adds, "You should talk to Doc Cassidy he writes poetry you know." Again with the random bits of trivia from the Aquarian, "Are you leaving Castaine?" He says with a wave, "See you later and I'll try to set Cygs on the course you suggested." He then looks at Cygnus, "No, but seriously, you should listen to your sister, she has a solid head on her shoulders."

Cygnus lets out a long sigh, "I know she does," his eyes track his sister as she leaves. No doubt he'll catch up to her later to debate this more. "You know, here's the thing. We're stuck here for the rest of our frakking lives. And I have to what, never look the way I enjoy looking again? That's kind of ridiculous, really. It's not like we can even opt /out/ of the military anymore. We're stuck."

"Hey, kiddo. I mean Flash." Wil's face erupts into a loose grin as he waves to hear and notes Castaine's departure with another nod. Kassia probably won't like this nickname and it's not like they are years apart or anything, which makes it all the more absurd. "Marius." He adds. Finally having all his greetings covered, he sighs a bit at Castor's question. "Well, I was supposed to be working on something else, but I needed a break before I drove myself mad. These are just some notes. Since we've gone, well, paper-ish I've had to steal scraps here and there so this whole thing's a mess."

Kassia lifts a hand to wave at Castaine. "Hey hun, long time no see I wish someone had woke me…We'll catch up another time." She then sits up stretches and yawns again. "I don't dream." She says matter of factly, then smiles over at Willem. "Kiddo, at least it's better then Flashknickers." She then grabs ger cold Vodka laced coffee and takes a sip. "What I miss." She asks, only hear half the conversations around her while napping.

Castaine heads through the exit.

Castor looks at Cygnus and offers, "Aw, you're looking at this all wrong. We are on this boat and we are going to survive and something will happen and we won't just keep doing this forever. It is a big universe and we are a small boat that can find some place to hide." Yup, even drunk he is still a puppy dog. He then takes a moment to say, "Well, fancy a warm beer or a bit of vodka?" He then looks over at Kassia, "Well, mostly just general sillyness and brother and sister discussions and I have managed to get myself drunk." He looks at a beer again eyeing and wondering if he should drink more. "Well, it is also better than Flashdrive, Flashforward, and Flashbulb." He teases, "Or Flashlight."

"What about Flash-in-the-pan?" Is Cygnus' offering to Castor's line of thinking, which causes him to chuckle a little bit. "You missed me pouting and protesting at the fact I can't dye red and blonde streaks into my hair," He says by way of bringing Kassia up to speed. It may be because he's been up all night, and the fact that he's slightly buzzed that he seems stuck on this hair issue at the moment. "I really don't get what the big /deal/ is about it, honestly," he states with a frown.

"There are just -so- many places you can go with that." Willem says, dryly as he comments on the 'flash' jokes, flipping open one of the papers, squinting at their contents. "So you're going all regulation on us with the hair? Heh." For some reason, he turns beet red as he eyeballs the scrawled handwriting below and quickly flips the page over again. "Going to have to raid a frakking supply depot for this if we don't get new paper." Looking back up, quickly, he shrugs a little bit.

Kassia just glares at Castor, she does that alot. "Shut up Castor." she says and sighs softly. "I proud of my call sign, so noone can slander it, go ahead make fun of me all you like. It's not as if people haven't in the last few days. Come on make me the brunt of all your jokes. I've just stopped caring." Is she joking, perhaps not. A sip of her coffee and she shakes her head standing up, she dumbs the cup out and goes to make another one. Why is she always around drunk people, when she's sober. "As for the hair, I guess people in power like to say No alot makes em feel good I guess, even over stupid shit like hair color and frakking."

Castor looks at Kassia, "Hey Captain Legacy calls me Tinleg, do I look like a giant metal phallus?" He then smirks, "Though maybe the Tinleg one isn't so bad." Luckily for Willem he is to drunk to have seen what is on the page however he does say, "I can try to talk to some folks if you want and try to get you some paper." He then looks over at Cygnus, "Cygs, the hair thing is important, we work on regs and we are soldiers. We have to live under the standards of the regs. Plus, express yourself all you want but just remember you want to fly you have to go by the standards of the squad. We live and die by the symbols that the military gives us and part of that is living up to a certain standards of appearance." His voice isn't angry, in fact it is sympathetic in his own drunken way. He finally looks over again at Kassia, "And, I won't make fun of you…too much." He says with a teasing wink.

Castor takes a moment to look over at Cygnus, "I'm not saying I disagree, though you need to take it up with your XO and your XO needs to take it up with Sheridan." Again his voice isn't angry but rather reminding Cygnus of the facts. He then offers with a bit of hope, "Though maybe the Old Man won't mind." He then looks over at Willem about to say something and then he looks over at the other two men, "What did I say?" He seems a bit confused but drunks usually are.

It occurs to Cygnus that right now? He is, indeed, off duty. Reaching behind his head, he grabs for the bandy holding his hair in place in a neat ponytail and pulls it free, allowing his hair to cascade around his shoulders. It's long. Longer probably than people have really realized, falling well below his shoulders in a rich, shiny chestnut wave. "I mean, tell me," He glances back and forth between his two companions, "What the frak is so /wrong/ with this?" Yup. Mac is like a dog after a bone now. To Wil, he adds, "You're a student of history like I am, Rebound. If nobody ever pushed the envelope, thumbed their nose at conventional ideas to create new ones, would we /ever/ have evolved as a culture?"

"I didn't say 'pushing the envelope' was pointless. I was just noting that expecting any of this to confirm to any real logic is likely fruitless. Humanity doesn't always make sense. But I think, taking a middle ground between the two of you," Willem notes as he eyes the departing Kassia with a slight visual boggle as he goes back to his work-in-progress on the table, "like Tin said - it exists as a relic of a martial culture. If you want brightly-colored day-glo hair and flowing locks and want to sell it to what's left of the brass you'd probably have to couch it in some kind of martial, 'devoted-to-the-God-of-War' language. You've got the theology mind too. I'm pretty sure you can come up with something if it's that important to you." He doesn't sound -mocking-, just, well, detached from the whole issue. "Just a suggestion." Finally, he shakes his head a little and turns back towards Castor. "I don't know. I was wondering if it's me. Sorry for ruining the place for female company. I guess I've lost my edge. Heh." Right. Like he ever -had- such an edge.

Castor sits in front of a metal table covered in empty beer bottles and one vodka bottle that is almost half way full. A bag sits beside his feet that may or may not hold more booze. Beside him is Cygnus who has his hair down. Willem sits at a table close to the pair. The drunken Castor looks over at Willem, "I said marital culture?" Yup those drunk ears are now clearly off. He then says, "Flash is nice, we should find her a guy." He then rolls his head over to look at Cygnus, "Just ask your XO about the hair thing and see where it goes." Yup, drunken puppy dog. He then asks, "Anyone got a cigar?"

Well, at least the ChEng is entering the lounge to help balance the testosterone to estrogen variances in the room. She has a fleet coffee mug dangling from the crook of her finger, which might betray her reason for coming in here. The bagged pretzels from the snack machine might be long gone, but Kobol forbid they should run out of coffee. /That/ would be the true end to humanity. Sen angles towards the coffee urn, passing an interesting conversation that has one eyebrow lofted on her forehead in silent question.

"Actually, I could make a religious argument for it as well," Cygnus agrees, once Wil points it out. "Men who worship in the cult of Enaylios wear their hair long. Though that wouldn't wash because it's really sort of an anti-vanity thing. Frak." He lets the topic rest for a moment. Probably thankfully to his two companions. "Flash is nice. One thing I've found though? Matchmaking is really usually a /bad/ idea. It winds you up in serious hot water when it goes wrong for the matchees." There's a long pause, "Though, hell, if we're matchmaking, how about we find me a nice guy…" There's a snicker as he shoots at glance at Tin to pick up what now seems to be their running joke, "Who's type I happen to be." He gives a mock sniffle, "Unlike you."

"Flash is nice, but she's a kid. Listen, I've known her..not -well-, but I knew her briefly when she was a kid. Listen to the man here when he says matchmaking's a tragedy. Besides, there's probably been too much frakking on this ship anyway, and too much drama because of it." Willem makes a face, and his nose wrinkles. Then his forehead wrinkles as he considers Cygnus' words a bit more. "You can always shave it and wear a weave while you're offduty." This bad idea gets dismissed quickly. "Heh. I don't know any nice guys on this ship but I'll keep an eye out." He sits at the table, his sobriety a sharp contrast with Castor's state, possibly because he hasn't even hit any booze yet. Fumbling in his pocket, he produces a cigarette pack which is about half full. "All I've got are these." He places it next to the pile of papers he's been working on. "Heh. My Analog Life. Does that name sound like a pretentious load of bullshit?"

Castor looks over at Cygnus, "Sorry that you don't have lady parts Cygs and that is my type." He then looks over at Willem and then back to Cygnus, "But…she…and the…" He then shrugs, "Fine, fine, no matchmaking unless it is for Cygs over here." He makes a mental note however wether or not that mental note will stick to the refrigerator that is Castor's mind is up for debate at the moment. He then adds, "No, but seriously, cigar?" Yup, he is now becoming random. As Wil speaks he then turns and says, "Pretentious, no. Sounds like one of those hippe indie sort of book titles that or something that selfserving scientist on Caprica would say." He then takes a moment to eye the bottles before he looks into his bag at another beer. He considers drinking it again and this time he touches the bottle pulling it up to the table.

When the ChEng drifts towards them, Cygnus offers a respectful, "Good afternoon, Sir." Despite everything else, he's pretty unfailingly respectful of authority. As long as said authority isn't trying to get him to lop off his hair. Some things just don't float in Mac's world. Besides, he knows from experience that he looks nothing short of ridiculous shorn. The idea is almost physically painful to entertain. The title has him thinking, "Why analog and not digital, Rebound?"

Sen's hair is down and the lapel of her Blue's jacket is open, marking her offduty.

"Captain." Wil says, formally, straightening again, even if he's in his offduty gear and slipping his things aside. Even if she's off-duty, he makes a habit of doing such things, which has in the past infuriated Captain Marek and Captain Legacy. Why not add the ChEng to the list of annoyed superior officers? He glances helplessly down at the cigarettes on the table. "Take it or leave it, Tin. It's all I've got." A bit of a delay ensues before he lolls his head over towards Cygnus and explains further. "I thought it was fitting. Considering we've gone anti-digital in light of all these Cylon hijinks. I imagine we'll rip out every non-essential computer system before we're done."

Castor looks at the ChEng and he gives a salute, "Captain." He then takes a moment to study the woman before he offers his warm beer to the woman, "A gift, sir, on account of you and your crew whipping that virus' ass." Yup, Castor is using words he normally doesn't around officers of a higher rank and he is nicely and properly drunk. He'll be clean and sober by duty time but for now he is enjoying the moment and he is properly drunk. He then takes a moment to add, "I also have some vodka if you want." He looks over at the cigarettes, "Oh thanks, but I only smoke cigars." His accent is a bit thicker than normal as he speaks, "Though I reckon Wil is right, digital makes the book sound like the life of a Centurion." He then takes a moment to swoon ever so slightly before he starts to laugh, "Can you imagine a book by a Centurion. Dear Diary, today I went to get buffed up, I have to look shiny because I have to go kill people later." He then adds, "Dear Diary, I think that raider I wrote about is giving me goo goo eyes, should I make a move for it?" This makes him laugh even harder.

Sen offers a little smile at the comment from Willem regarding computers, could be he's not that far off of his assessment. The expression disappears behind the rim of her coffee mug as she takes a sip then comments to the offer of booze from Castor, "Thank you, but I'm saving my liver for Colonial Day," unfazed by the way people suddenly seem to go rigid when they greet her. It's just the nature of things.

Cygnus just blinks at Castor and shakes his head. "I… don't think I want to think about Cylons having.. sex." And Gods if that doesn't send his mind reeling back to the content of Nine's sketchbook. Disturbing to say the least. Now that Colonial Day has been brought up, he solicit's Sen's opinion, "Captain, do you really think that me dying streaks into my hair would send the ship in a tailspin?" Oh Gods, Mac is back to that again. He can't quite grasp why having a little fun when things are clearly marked civilian dress 'ok' would hurt his chances of actually making it back into the Air Wing. Of course, he's a bit buzzed, and he's been up all night. Which might explain why he seems like a hair fetishist at the moment.

"You'd know more about this than anyone." Wil says, shifting the pile of papers to one side as he inclines his head towards the approaching Sen. "I'm not bitching about it, really. I remember my dad saying that he thought the creeping computerization of warfare was more or less a mistake. Guess it sucks to be right." He muses as he leans against the table. Finally, he shakes his head. "I think a Cylon diary would be more full of mundane notes about tasks. 'Dear Diary. Centurion Drone One-Zero-One-Alpha-Dash-Three-Gamma. Fuel valve was low on pressure today. Increased by twenty-two percent. Existence is sublime. Triad Night in main assembly hall tonight at 2100. Bringing extra lubricant and saw blades in case maintenance unit intends to augment play with additional cards.' He speaks this last bit in a sort of exaggerated monotone. "Must be a boring place."

Castor sits in front of a metal table covered in empty beer bottles and one vodka bottle that is almost half way full. A bag sits beside his feet that may or may not hold more booze. Beside him is Cygnus who has his hair down. Willem sits at a table close to the pair and near by them is Sen. The drunken Castor seems to be laughing hysterically at the moment however as Colonial Day is mentioned he quiets down a bit and says, "Oooo yes please, more booze on Colonial Day." He then looks at Cygnus and says, "Dear diary, today one of my diodes blew out today. I heard that Centurion 00104327 was dumped by Centurion 00104378 apparently it was because Centurion 00104327 was to young for Centurion 00104378." He then bursts out into laughter again. The drunk, it is strong with this one. However, as Wil gives his diary entry Castor starts to laugh even louder, he wheezes out as he is gasping for air, "Extra lubricant."

Sen is standing out the outside of the jocularity looking in, but such is the nature of Command, sometimes. She has a few fingers curled into the handle of a fleet emblazoned coffee mug, the drink paused on a trip to her lips at Cygnus' question. "Dying your hair in an unnatural manner is against regulation. Now if you're talking just for the celebration, there's no reason you can't just dye it back afterwards. Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for a few hours though." Says the woman whose unruly curly hair is spilling around her shoulders, and her common idea of rouge is engine grease.

"A lot of work for a few hours, maybe that's true, Cap," A sigh rifles its way out of Mac, his head shaking a bit, causing his hair to drift around him a bit more. It's silky and shiny and clearly very well cared for. "Then again, look at what we're up against? With what's happened? Who knows /when/ I'll ever be free of regs again? What it's only once a year at Colonial Day? The only time I'd truly be able to express myself? I don't know, to me, the chance to just be who I am for a few hours could be worth the extra effort of having to dye it back."

"If it makes you feel any better, you express yourself pretty thoroughly. We all get it." Wil says, dryly. "You may have to be creative if it's worth your while but…Look." He shakes his head slowly from one side to another and fips open another page of scribbling. He page has been written out in a sort of annoyingly scrawled shorthand but two larger-written words in the page stand out under an immediate, casual glance. 'BAD IDEA.' Something in there about regs too. He barely glances at the page and continues, "Unfortunately, as it stands, our asses belong to the brass right now until something heavily changes. I am pleasantly surprised that morale is as high as it is in this situation. Says a lot about this ship and its crew." He hasn't made notice of Kai yet, as evidenced by the lack of standing at attention or other gestures he would typically make.

Castor stops laughing and then says looks over at the two men and then he looks at Cygnus and just shrugs seeing as how he has nothing else to say about the hair thing, the question has been asked and all. He then turns to Wil and says, "Well, we are the best of the best in the universe right now so we should be proud." He takes a moment to give a drunken and happy grin as he says this.

Sen offers an engimatic smile to the lamenting Cygnus. "Who knows. Maybe I'll go pink for the occasion." Her head turns slightly as she sees Kai enter, tracing him with her eyes for a moment as he beelines to the snack machines. As if reminded, her hand drops to her pocket and she pulls out a roll of hard candy, popping one in her mouth. She needs a little bit more sugar to fuel her through drunken debates of regulations.

"Fine, fine. You all win," Cygnus finally gives in to the inevitable. "My hair will remain suitably drab for the celebrations." He's tired of being told that it's a bad idea, and he'll bow to the advice of others. He won't be happy about it, but he'll shut about it now for the duration. Apparently on some things he knows when he's been defeated. He's not negotiation on the eyeliner though. After all, everyone's already seen it. Now if he can just get ahold of that black nail polish from Jupiter, he's good to go.

"Maybe. Maybe." Wil declares as he slaps the papers shut after studying them with a sidelong glance as he straightens, catching Sen's gaze and following his on over to study the Snackin' Cap'n. "Oh. That reminds me. I only have one really good suit. This is going to be an exercise in humiliation, I'm sure."

Castor looks over at Cygnus and offers, "Hey, it is okay man, you can wear some crazy outfit and get all the attention from the guys." He then looks at Sen and says, "Pink, huh?" He tries to picture the Captain in pink and then shakes his head, even a drunken puppy knows there are places not to go. He then looks over at Wil, "You know, I don't think I have any civvie clothes." He takes a moment to eye the vodka.

Dig dig dig. Kai's efforts come up with pocket lint, an folded bit of paper, and his pack of cigarettes. Seeing as none of those things are likely to give him a snack when jammed into the machine, he settles for a smoke. Which he lights enroute to the small gathering of pilots and not-pilots nearby. "Afternoon," is murmured around the cigarette between his lips, an instant before he lights up.

Sen grins again, moving the piece of candy into the pocket of her cheek before she mumbles into her coffee cup. "I didn't say I could pull pink off, mind you." Mm, cherry sugar goodness and coffee. Can life get better? Why yes, yes it could. But that's not expounded on. Her same easy smile is offered to Kai joins the group. "I for one think Captain Marek could use a mohawk…" Her tone is light, not weighed down by alcohol as some others.

Well frak. Cygnus does an admirable job of hidding the nervousness that suddenly inhabits him. "Afternoon, Sir," He replies in an even and friendly voice. Mac is well aware of just how lightning fast the rumor mill is on the ship, and his mind is whirring around over the question of whether or not the latest news, in regards to him, has reached Marek's ears. And whether or not the fact of the matter of his sexual preference has just screwed him out of any chance to transfer back over to the Air Wing at some point in the future. When it comes down to it? It's the will of the Lords. He'll work as hard as he has to, to prove himself, but ultimately he'll end up where the Gods see fit to put him. Oddly? Oddly he's suddenly at supreme peace with that notion. "You only have one suit, Rebound, and I only have… clothes that are suited to fronting a band. Should be interesting." There's a pause. "I'd offer you some of mine, Tin, but I'm not sure they'd be your style. Plus? I have serious chicken legs, I don't think half the women around here would fit in my pants, honestly." Of course, now he's self conscoius about his hair, damnit, and he reaches up a hand and runs it through the long length as it hangs down his back. He's off duty, and he's loosed it from it's usual tight, neat ponytail, revealing it hangs well below his shoulders.

"It took me three months to wash the wine stains out of that suit after the last time I wore it." Willem says, grimacing a little bit as he shakes his head. "It's the only -good- one I have, anyway. Assorted other odds and ends, but not all that much. I travel light. Heh." He opens his mouth to say something further, leaning against the table as he stands next to Castor and suddenly closes it as Kai approaches. "Welcome, Sir." He offers, glibly.

Castor looks up at the Kai, "Heeeeeeey, Papabear, sir." He says as he sees the Captain and his voice is still clearly drunk, "would you care for a warm beer or for some vodka?" He then offers, "Yeah, but why would I wear civvie clothes I'm a pilot and I'm damn proud of that. Plus, seeing as how I don't have any so isn't an option for me." Wait, he is drunk he is repeating himself. He turns to look at Wil, "What kind of suit do you have? Is it one of those fancy Caprican jobs?" He then says to Sen, "Well, Cap it would be nice to see a new color on deck even if you aren't sure you can pull it off." He turns and looks at Kai's hair, "I dunno, really, a mohawk it just wouldn't work."

Who knows whether the scuttlebutt's made it to Kai yet. Either way, his eyes flick across for a faintly bemused look at Cygnus, before shifting back to Sen. "Much as I'd love to oblige, I don't think I'll have enough hair by sunday." Since, you know, he's sporting a buzzcut a marine would be proud of, right now. "Sorry, Tinman, I don't drink. How's the vodka?"

Cygnus, is, in fact, a boyscout when it comes to clothes. Always be prepared that's his motto. "Is it still stained? Cause I have something back at my rack that might help with that." Yes, Mac travels with the Colonial equivalent of oxy-clean amongst his possesions. Thank Gods he's let go of the notion of, and conversation about dying multicolored blonde and crimson streaks into his hair for the affair. "Could be food for thought, Sir, for when it grows out," He mentions with good natured humor.

"Not anymore. I dropped a lot of cubits to finally get that thing cleaned to satisfaction, but thanks for the offer. That suit looked like a horror show." Willem says with a slightly lopsided grin. "Hell, that whole thing -was- a horror show. Anyway…" He brushes at a speck of dust on his fatigue pants and fumbles with a half-empty cigarette pack laying on the table, idly. He's making no move to light up, though.

Doors to the lounge open as in come a few Naval enlisted and a couple marines, and all seem to be getting on relatively well. Could be that its a pack of medics combat and general, but still they're talking and laughing all the same. Th' tall one is easy to pluck out, but then Dutch normally doesn't gather with officers. But at the sight he is seeing? There's a slight chuckle as an elbow is driven home lightly to his ribs, followed with another set of laughs.

Breaking away from the pack, the Sergeant comes over, battered paper pack tapped, as one cancer stick goes in th' mouth the other is held in the opposite hand. Maybe a peace offering as he comes to stand a little straighter and still.

Castor looks at Kai, "To be fair, it wasn't distilled enough and so it has a bad after taste. However, it does get the job done." Yeah, the pilot drinks a lot when he can give you an idea of the distillaion level. He then turns to look over at Wil, "I'd listen to Cygs, maybe he could help you." He then looks at Cyg, "Hey, could you die your hair with a fruit drink wash? Something that washes out immediatly. You know, like kids do at summer camp?" As the door open Castor looks up at Dutch he offers, "How's it going sarge?"

You'd never think that the marine Sergeant who approaches has an easy five or six inches on red squadron's Captain; Kai's one of those people who makes up for what he lacks in height, with the clear fact that he doesn't give a shit. And while he does already have a cigarette in his hand, he's not going to turn a free one down, it seems. "Nice of you," he remarks with a small smile, cigarette accepted and his lighter offered in exchange. To borrow, clearly. "Rebound, you'd better not be holding out on us, if you've got a snazzy suit to wear."

There's a shake of Mac's head by way of answer, "Hair's too dark, my friend," he tells Castor. "I'd still have to bleach it in the places I want to color up anyway, so at that point I might as well use the semi-permanent red I've already got." If he were naturally blonde, then Tin's idea would work. "I've given up the ghost of having the streaks I want." Everyone's finally managed to talk him out of that folley and what it might mean for his chances with Marek and Vendas. A nod is offered in the newcomer's direction, a friendly smile drifting across his lips. "Afternoon, Sargeant." One thing about Mac is that everyone is pretty much equal to him, regardless of what branch of service they're in. He has friends among engineers, pilots and marines alike. People are people, after all.

"Figger, with your locks lookin like mine, you ain't gettin much love from your fellow flyers." joked, but Dutch will always borrow someone else's lighter if they offer, saves what little feul he has with his own. A nod as he takes time to flick th' flame to life and take a drag, before offering back to the Captain. See, if Kai does subscribe to :Don't give a shit weekly: then he and the Corpsman will get along just fine.

Puff of smoke and Dutch looks over to Willem, and then the bottles-well lingering on the bottles before he's looking to Castor. A sniff, and he lowers the cigarette for a moment. Can smell the booze from here. "Fine, Lieutenant.." he replies evenly in that lovely Tauron twang of his. "You lookin' to drink yourself to death? I've seen keggers go lighter than that.." a nod down to them bottles before he's looking to Cygnus. "Afternoon, brother."

While the approaching marine Sergeant doesn't immediately provoke any visible familiarity on Willem's part, he attempts to be social. Wil inclines his head a little bit towards the man and nods. "Hey. Sergeant" in a smooth tone of voice, A few subdued notes of Libran speech present. He grins faintly. He then shifts back to address Kai and clears his throat before doing so. "As I said. I have -one-. When the occasion rises. Which isn't often these days. Heh." Back to Dutch, he peers at the man a moment more. "Good to see a Tauron 'round here. I spent some time there."
Sen is still smiling at the thought of Kai sporting a mohawk when she lifts her mug in salute to those assembled. "I have to find some chow. Enjoyed the beauty parlor chat." She says congenially, before her teeth start grinding the hard candy in her mouth to a pulp. CRUNCHCRUNCH.

Castor looks at the sarge, "Sarge, I know my limit I just, you know, pass out first. Besides, I've got a repuation to live up…" A reputation alright, a reputation for being a puppy. He then says, "If you were off duty I'd offer you a warm beer." He then takes a moment to look at Sen, "I think I've got something in my bag if you want a snack?" He reaches into the bag and pulls out a single oatmeal cream pie in a sealed plastic baggie. How is it that Castor keeps fast talking to get all of this stuff and how does he do it.

Kai moves back a step so he can rest his butt against the back of a chair, booted feet kicked out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He's really here to smoke his cigarette, not socialise, save perhaps in a peripheral fashion. Sen's imminent departure draws a flicker of his eyes in her direction though, and a twitch of a smile. "Enjoy your afternoon, Captain."

"Have a good one, Captain," Is called after Sen's back as she departs. Those who know Mac well might be surprised at the way that being called 'brother' doesn't phase him. He doesn't move to point out that he might be anything other than that. That feeling of supreme peace about his future fate is still draped around him like a mantle. Now, Cygnus is a big city boy, and the son of a High Priest to boot, which is what explains his far more cultured accent, but the Marine's accent has definitely grabbed his attention, and suddenly gives him a pang of homesickness. The first he's really felt since the world went mad. "It is /nice/ to run into a fellow Tauron," He admits, the smile transmuting into a grin. "Whereabouts do you hail from, Sarge?"

Dutch frowns a little more as he looks towards Castor, before a nod ans gruff assed grin is passed along to Willem "Sir." a cough and then a drag, because that cures all ailments. "Well, Lieutenant. If itwas cool I might take you up on it, however I feel I have t' note that passing out is a sign of alcohol poisoning.." Yeah he's a Corpsman, through and through. There's a nod passed to Sen "Captain.." offered before he's blinking back to Cygnus. "Yes, yes it is. I'm from Gentry's point." Which ain't them big fancy amed city, rather its a small ass town attatched to a Mine in th' mountains. "Yourself?" two guesses on what Dutch used to do, before the Corps.

"Have fun with the 'upgrades,' Sir." Willem says towards Sen with some measure of feigned sympathy. And some real. This done, he turns to study the new conversation between Marius and Dutch, propping his elbow on the table as he leans over. Unlike Castor, he's stone-cold sober at least at this present time, not drinking. Apparently, unlike Captain Marek, he -did- come to socialize.

Castor offers, "But…I had a oatmeal creampie." He then looks over at Cygnus, "Why is it that women always keep walking away from me." He sniffs at his armpit which is clean. He looks over to Dutch, "Well, Sarge, lucky for you I can't. I also know my limits so I can fly. Which means no drinking till I pass out." Given the amount that has been drunk Castor should look much drunker than he appears, the sign of the professional. He then says to Wil, "Do you think the Cap was hungry?" He leans in to Wil, "Is my face asymetrical?" Ah, yes, drunk logic or lack thereof.

Kai follows the ChEng's departure briefly, then lowers his eyes to pull from his smoke. While he may not be following the conversation visually, he seems to be listening. Then again, he could just be mentally going over his laundry list. "Maybe she doesn't like flyboys, Tinman." Yeah, he's listening.

The slight buzz that Mac had achieved hours ago has now worn off completely. He was fairly moderate in his drinking. The surprise is evident in his expression though as Dutch speaks. "Holy frak! I know that area well. My grandmother hailed from about twenty five miles away fro Gentry's Point. Hellespont, actually." Another speck on the map that was Tauron, nothing much to distinguish it, really. Farms. A few more farms. And have farms been mentioned? "My father's ministry was in Hypatia though, so that's where I grew up." Yup, big city boy for certain. Mac's off duty and he's not about to stand on ceremony, and he sticks out a hand to his fellow countryman and offers, "Cygnus. Mac Cygnus, and it's damned good to meet you, Sarge."

"What?" is all Dutch can muster around his cigarette, and there is a look given back tween Cygnus, Willem and Kai. Apparently everybody does hurt, sometimes. "Well sir.." and eyes are back onto Castor for a moment "I'm gonna suggest cuttin off and an IV of water if you want to fly soon..Takes bout an hour for liqour to leave the bloodstream…An Doin a count of your bottles…You got some time.."

And he thought some of the marines had wimmen issues..Though more words from Cygnus and Dutch is cracking a smile, attention averted from more medical mumbo jumbo to talking about home. "I had a cousin in Hellespont, we used t' go swimmin' with them in the summer. Frakkin Shit, small assed world." cigarette held in his lips as he smiles, th' Sarge offers a hand back, and a good natured grip to go round with it. "Dutch ELder..Well Dutch ain't my given name, just what folks call me.." So you'll get the immediate pleasure of not calling him John. "Damned fine to mee you too Mac. Though we never got out to the city, from the pictures it looked frakkin beautiful. All them lights an all." A twinge of homesickness? Yeah, but its held in with a drag of cigarette.

"Depends which way I'm looking at it. And if you're drooling or not." Willem says, with a certain playful sarcasm, to Castor in response to his questions. Probably the one about symmetry. "I missed all the fun on my CAP apparently." He lets out a quick, one-syllable laugh. "Don't be so quick to judge, sir. Women have been steadily pouring out of here ever since I made it in this place." He eyes the two Taurons chatting it up but doesn't speak up much on it right now. Besides, everyone else here with the exception of Dutch probably knows the sordid details of his time on Tauron. Probably where his suit got stained too.

Kai finishes off his cigarette at some point, checks his watch, and decides to make his departure. "Don't end up in a drunken heap in the middle of marine country," he warns Castor, with an amiable clap to the man's shoulder as he passes. "Enjoy your afternoon, gentlemen." And then he's tucking his hands into his pockets, and heading for the hatch.

Castor looks at Kai and he gives a small laugh, "Maybe sir, but that makes twice tonight." He then looks at Cygnus as he meets a fellow countryman, he then looks over at Wil, "I think that the XO and I might be the only Aquarians here." He then looks at Willem and rub his mouth as if he is checking for drool, ah drunks, so gullible. He looks back to the Sarge, "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill only water." He has dones this before and his tones to the Sarge aren't mean or angry but almost like a, 'I know, I know' He then looks up at Kai, "Aye, Sir. I'm done now, promise." He then gives a wave to the Captain.

"You're talking about Blue Mountain Lake, aren't you?" That's what Mac responds to the swimming remark. "Some of the bluest water on all of Tauron! Abso-fraking-lutely beautiful place. I've been there a few times myself." Funny to find someone from such familiar territory, and comforting as well in ways he can't exactly express. "Good hunting, Sir," He calls after the retreating Kai before turning his attention back to Dutch. "The city had it's perks, but I'll tell you something, you could never see the stars there the way you could up in the mountains. All the lights left a pink glow in the sky at night."

"Catch up with you later, Captain." Willem says towards Kai, straightening a little bit as he watches the boss retreat. He finally looks between the drunk Aquarian and the Taurons as he considers Castor's words silently, drumming his fingers upon the table in thought. "Same here. I don't meet Librans much. Then again, there are a lot of reasons for that. I think I actually knew a cluster of them who relocated to Tauron when I was doing the Garrison song-and-dance near there. Unlike these two gentlemen I didn't make it out into the countryside much when I hit the surface."

Dutch nods "Yeah, Lieutenant- you might not like what you find down there. Some of em are even more 'ornery than I am, an right now I got my sociable panties on." Figure of speech, there is no real set of under wear that will make one more sociable than the other. "They're lookin fer blood some of em.." And then he'll have to patch them up afore sending them along to sickbay

A grin is given to Cygnus and Dutch is acctually taking time to lean on something for the little bit he has left. "Yessir, I am." good to find another from your planet anywhere. "Always wanted to see the city.. Sure, mountains are fine, frakkin lovely in the spring an fall, but by th' time I started to appreciate- I was already down in a hole for most th' day." and there's a look to Willem "You did a tour on Tauron?" police duty. he'll mind his tongue.

Castor looks at all of the men talking about Tauron and it is clear that Castor isn't going to be drinking anymore. The man stands slowly and then begins seperating out everything for recycling. He does however take one last gulp of vodka before he puts the bottle in his bag. Aparently the coming out party for Cygnus is over and Castor feels the need to stretch his legs.

Wil's not always slick with his choice of words. The Tauron garrisons may have not been the best subject amongst natives but still, military is military and he just goes along with it. "Yeah. Although it was closer to the Arm line to be honest. The whole affair was a bit spooky but we never really did anything other than harass unaffiliated pirates." He cracks an easy grin again. "Maybe it was our only real time for shore leave, but I grew to love Tauron when I was there. I have to hand it to your people. Beautiful place. Good food. Oh, and the women are something spectacular. I was a bit of a dumbass, though. Started dating this one girl. Hannah. Hannah Stavros." He grimaces for comic effect, which is completely understandable to anyone versed in Tauron lore or pays a lot of attention to the local news there, as the 'Stavros crime family' was a repeated topic in the last decade and a half. "By the time I got her last name I was three dates in."

Willem turns to watch Castor amble away. "Can you make it back to your rack?"

Cygnus turns his attention back to Tin for a moment, "Tin, you going to be able to make it back to the berthings all right?" There's no derision in the words, merely concern over a good friend. If it's needed he'll escort his fellow pilot there himself to make certain he makes it okay. Mac has known that Rebound served a tour on Tauron, though they hadn't gotten much of an occasion to speak of it yet, "I have to find out more about that from you, Rebound," he grins. Dutch's words are sobering, however, considering Cygnus grew up in a fairly privledged and comfortable lifestyle. "It must have been difficult, that," He admits, "Is that why you ended up joining the Corps?"
<Air-Wing> "Poet" Roubani runs to buy books for class starting next week. Sigh. back soon.

Castor picks up his bag and looks at Cygnus, "Hey, good luck, and if you catch hell come find me." He then looks over at Willem and Cygnus says, "Yeah, I'm a professional. Besides, you folk need to keep sharing notes on Tauron and I need to go get water…and maybe one last nip." He then looks back at everyone, his eyes look a bit blury but his steps are solid enough. He isn't wobbling to much. He then turns as he looks back at Dutch, "Take it easy Sarge." And with that one drunk ass pilot exits the room ambling but he does look like he will make it without keeling over somewhere.

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