Post Fight Partying
Post Fight Partying!
Summary: Three Pilots, a Marine and the CO walk into the general lounge…
Date: July 31st (PHD #103)
Related Logs: None

Samantha is waiting in a, surprisingly, empty lounge. But booze has been summoned, and the fight night is over, and it's been a great evening over all. Samantha's in her off duty BDU's, still showing a bit of sweat from the fight night of just an hour ago. She's smoking off of a cigarette that probably should have been killed about three breaths ago, but the filter still tastes like tobacco and that's all that matters right now. She's got the triad deck out on a table between the couches in the back corner, but right now is just pacing, restless, too much energy and not enough ways to get rid of it. Yet. Her pigtails have been let loose into messy dirty blonde waves, mainly to let her hair dry from the shower hours ago.

Thorn enters, after a brief detour to his quarters to pick up a bottle of brandy, which he carries protectively in the crook of his arm. Seeing Sam waiting, he grins at the Viper pilot, going over to her and depositing the bottle on the table.

Samantha looks from him, "Lets see if you got better taste in booze than music." She smiles wide and leans down, scooping up the bottle just about the moment he puts it on the table. She laughs…"Braaandy? Hm. Fancy pants boy, are ya? Shoulda know, you bein' all in-tell-ectual and all. Still, goes down smoother than moonshine, which is all we'll be drinkin' in a few months. So… I approve." She nods curtly and sets it back down, ducking to the side of the room to grab two coffee mugs from the coffee station there and bring them back for their drink glasses. "We're goin' classy tonight. I think these cups are actually -clean-.

"Here, now, I've got nothin' against some firewater," Thorn replies, returning the smile. "Had an uncle what used t' brew the stuff himself, back on Aerelon. It's like a planetary hobby," he explains, remembering the bottle of homemade Aerelon moonshine Antioch had brought with him to the Triad tournament a while back. He uncorks the bottle, and pours a healthy slug in each glass before lighting himself a cigarette. "Hell, half the bloody families in my hometown had their own still, it seemed." He raises his glass in a toast. "T' the victors, what?"

If Sheridan were to wear anything other then his Blues or Dress greys, people would likely faint. At least he appears in the hatchway with the lapel of his jacket unfastened and folded open. Progress. It seems even the Commander needs coffee, and the General Lounge was the closest place to find his java fix.

Samantha plops back down into the couch next to him, shifting her body and tucking her leg beneath her so she can easily face him while still reclining and getting comfortable. She scoops up her glass and smiles, clinking it against his cup. "To the victors, here here." And with that, she takes a good, deep sip of the stuff. She at least respects it enough not to do it like a shot, and her green eyes close, enjoying the sweet burn down her throat as she savours the first really good booze she's had in ages. "…Damn, that's nice… where'd ya get that?" And then her eyes catch sight of the boss. The -big- boss. Her gaze shoots open and she's on her feetin a heartbeat. "Commander on deck!" Coming to a quick, respectful parade rest.

"Trade secret," Thorn retorts with a smirk. "Here and there… you know. I'm a bit of a packrat." His eyes widen at Sam's announcement. Commander? Here? Komnenos pops to his feet like a jack in the box, spine stiffening and shoulders squaring.

"Impressive." Sheridan rumbles as he passes them by. "At ease. I'm not here to do a uniform spot check. Though Passi, your shoe is untied." He comments absently, before walking over to a pyramid of coffee mugs and selecting one. He flips it over, scrutinizing the inside of it for cleanliness. His index finger makes a swipe of bottom, then seems satisfied enough to add coffee.

Samantha looks down the moment he says that, her eyes wide, to go and lace it up again. But nope, it's tied. And she's been psyched. She blinks up to him, smirking…"The commander…has a sense of humor? Well, knock me over flat. You know, sir… you can join us?" She nods towards the brandy, almost sounding nervous about asking him such a thing, much less giving away -someone else's- brandy, but she offers. She's then plopping back down into the couch because they were told to be at ease and she sure as hell prefers to be comfortable. Her eyes flicker back to Thorn with that.."Pack rat? Do tell."

And a good thing, too, because Thorn's offduty tanks are still stained with a little sweat from the fight, and his trousers remain unbloused. Normally, he'd take exception to someone else offering up his liquor, but this time he's got no objection. "If you'd care t' wet your whistle with something stronger, Commander…" he trails off, nodding to the bottle as he slowly relaxes his posture. Finally, he turns his attention back to Sam. "Runs in the family, that. Me, though… I collect alcohol and cigarettes instead of dusty old books and manuscripts."

Sheridan takes a sip of his coffee, then looks back into the cup as if he missed some dirt or the brew doesn't taste just right. He takes a few paces towards Samantha and Komnenos and holds out his mug silently for some brandy to be added.

Samantha blinks. She can't entirely hide her innate shock that the CO has taken them up on the offer, and she nods for Komnenos to do the honours, since it is his booze. Once she's certain Sheridan has gotten some, she smiles to the man and looks back in Kom's direction, chuckling. "Cigarettes? I might be beggin' them off ya too. I ran out about two months back and frak has it been a month. I -need- to smoke after these last few weeks." She chuckles to herself, but for it all definitely seems to be in entirely fine humor. She's alive, after all. Shockingly so…"And collecting booze and tobacco is entirely more useful than manuscripts. Which is gonna keep us sane longer, that's the question ya gotta ask."

It's all a little surreal for Komnenos as well, as the ECO has never even so much as set foot in Kharon's CIC. Nevertheless, he quickly moves to add a healthy slug to the commander's cup. He seems a little high strung all of a sudden, but even the unexpected appearance of the Boss isn't enough to dampen Thorn's own good spirits. Not that Sheridan is unwelcome, of course, just that Thorn and authority figures have tended to not mix well in the past. "Well, I think I could see fit t' toss you a pack here and there," Komnenos replies to Sam with a wink. "Air wing solidarity, and all."

And into the General Lounge comes skidding the tiniest Marine. She's in her sweats - well, sweat pants and regulation t-shirt - and carrying a bottle as well as a bag. A bag of something that moves as she does. That gives a kind of dull thud as the parts thump each other. She's moving almost as if the hounds of hell were at her heels.

The Commander doesn't mooch. No no. He requests and receives, though it doesn't go without gratitude. "Thank you." Sheridan says simply. He's well aware the tenseness he causes the minute he walks into a room, and now is no different. If nothing, the CO is situationally aware. "The written word and a good cigar. Why does it have to be one or the other?" Sure, he might not know exactly what they're talking about but since when does that matter?

Samantha turns her eyes towards the little Marine chick, lofting two brows though more so at the bag Epi is carrying than the woman's entrance, though both are curious. "Hey, chickie, good fightin' tonight. Nearly kicked Rebound's ass. I was rootin' fer ya." Sam's backwater accent calls out across the room with a warm little chuckle before she looks back to the men, considering the proposed question from the Commander…"Know what? A nice, real cigar and a good book don't sound half bad right now. I always like Tauron tobacco though… damn fine stuff. And maybe a mystery. Searider Falcon? I think the ship's got a copy…" Her husky voice offers thoughtfully. Wow, she reads.

Komnenos tosses a silent wave to Epi as she walks — no, bounces — into the lounge. A nod to the Commander, then, followed by a grave, "Any time, sir." As for the question at hand, well… "I like t' read myself, but my talents lie more in the electronic realm. Coding, programming, that sort of thing." A sheepish grin. "So I'd rather write some new strand of code than read a book. Let th' computer nerd jokes commence," he remarks flippantly, his smile taking on a sardonic twist.

Epi's tone is utterly cheerful as she comes to a stop next to the group. "Am I too late for the…" Her voice trails off and her eyes go impossibly wide. The 'oh shit' can be seen on her face just a heartbeat before it comes out of her mouth. "OHSHITIT'STHECOMMANDER," she vocalizes - clearly what was supposed to be an internal monologue. The bottle is dropped into the arm with the bag as she pulls into a salute.

Sheridan cracks just the slightest bit of a smirk at Epi, though it looks as if his face might break with the effort. Better he go back to his near scowl. "Don't wet yourself my dear, this is my ship, I like to remember what it looks like on occasion. At ease." He takes a testing sip of his coffee now with brandy, and his eyes slightly wince at the taste.

Samantha looks up to Epi, shaking her head, "No! No, join-…" And then the woman's internal monologue comes out very, very loudly, and Sam nearly chokes on her brandy, trying to hide her chuckling behind some coughing, her eyes suddenly watering…"Damn, girl. Relax. He's off duty and bein' kinda nice so we're enjoyin' it while it lasts! Siddown. It's almost a party. Just gotta get Komnenos pull the same trick now he did in the shower earlier today." She winks over at the Raptorman, her devilish little grin returning. "He's got a very, very nice code string. Trust me."

Komnenos snickers at Epi's sudden outburst. "'S okay, Shortstack. Come on, take a load off." He flushes at Sam's remark, choosing that moment to conveniently occupy himself with a swig of his drink.

Epi's eyes bounce from person to person, but always end up back on Sheridan. She drops the salute reluctantly and starts to edge around the man to go sit down, never turning her back on the Commander. Clearly she's discomfitted by having the Big Cheese himself here, but it's not really awkward, just star struck. "I brought vodka," she says, putting it down where it can be reached. The bag, though…well, when she realizes she's still holding it, she tries to hide it as she sits. It's one of those things where the harder she tries, the worse it is. "Lieutenant Lightloafers," she asks Sam, looking over at the Raptor. "He's got a very nice everything. He's a gentleman." Yep, a Marine is defending a pilot. She takes a seat not too far from poor Thorn.

Sheridan pauses with his coffee cup partway to his lips to take another sip. He levels a gaze at Samantha, "Lieutenant, I don't believe the Jig appreciates you eluding to the knowledge of his penis size infront of collective crew, including the Commander of this fine vessel." And with that, he completes his sip. "Have a good evening." He toasts them all with his coffee mug.

It's very, very possibly the first time someone's ever put Sam in her place about her humor, much less the CO. The crass femme of a viper jock's smile faulters just a bit, looking between the half blushing Thorn and Sheridan. She nods curtly, "Yes, sir…" And then looks back to Thorn, metaphorical tail between her legs. "…Sorry, Thorn…" And after that she's taking a deep, long drink of her booze, swallowing her ego and foot back with it, all in one go.

By now, Komnenos' face is a deep shade of crimson; he's no prude, by any means, but he wasn't exactly raised on the most libertine of the Twelve Colonies. Nevertheless, he accepts the teasing relatively gracefully, shaking his head at Samantha with a self conscious smile. "'S okay, I'm not offended…" A little embarrassed, certainly, but not offended. It's not as though he was being insulted, anyway. His gaze shifts over to Epi. "Careful, Shortstack, all this praise might go t' my head." He flushes again, belatedly realizing the double entendre in his words, and busies himself with his cigarette, a snorting chuckle escaping from his lips along with the smoke.

And poor Epi just sits there looking up at the Commander. She opens her mouth and a squeak comes out at first. Her mouth closes and then opens again after a moment. "G-good night, Sir," she murmurs. It looks rather like it's a very good thing Epi stopped by the head on the way to the party, else there'd be a wet spot on the sofa. After a moment she looks up at Thorn, head tilting to the side. "Of course they will. You're a pilot," she says solemnly.

Maybe the Commander has a twisted sense of humor, but he's quirking a bit of a smirk again as Samantha trips over herself to correct the faux pas. "There is a time and place for everything, Passi." He reminds her as gently as possible, which for Sheridan is probably akin to being smacked upside the head with a two by four. But at least he doesn't seem to be in a particularly /bad/ mood, so there's something to be said for that. At least he was being sociable. "To the fallen." He offers to those gathered, with a subtle raise of his spiked coffee.

As Jaimson enters the lounge from the hallway, he stops at the entrance, coming in on the first half of the conversation and blinking a little bit as he watches the goings on and listening. When he seems to have a fair grip on the situation, he tediously eases his way in, his footfalls coming rather heavilly. He is clearn, and from the looks of it… tired. Fight night does that to you, after all. So, now that he's here, he slooks toward Passi, raising a hand… And then his eyes seem to catch the actual uniformed officer. And the rank pins. "Sir," he greets the Commander. However, he doesn't really -know- the man. So, that's all there is right now.

Samantha nods quickly, nervously, which is something Samantha Passi -never- is. But then, this is the most words she's said to the CO since coming on board, so being nervous isn't a big surprise. She raises her glass in response to the commander's toast. "Salud…" She murmurs softly, in an older language than she usually cares to use. Probably doesn't even know what it means, just an expression to her. She'll clink glasses with whomever cares to before taking a good gulp of the stuff and nodding towards her fight partner. "Ferry! Come in…there's brandy and vodka. And the big bossman."

"T' the fallen," Komnenos echoes, raising his own glass. "So say we all," he says softly to himself, followed by a mutter in lilting Mierce, his earlier embarrassment forgotten as he takes another deep drink. He, at least, is starting to seem relaxed once again, even in the commander's presence, as he picks up his nearly forgotten cigarette and takes a drag. Then, a wave over to Ferris. "Hey, new guy." It's not said rudely, or with malice, just as a bland descriptor.

His little toast given, and his coffee retrieved, Sheridan seems to have to be elsewhere. He nods to each in turn, then heads to the door with his even stride.

And Epi, who has, by now, gotten her vodka, lifts her cup and intones softly, "To the fallen." Given recent events, her eyes lower and she seems to curl into the sofa.

Samantha looks around the little group, especially as the commander leaves… and she gives a small laugh that actually sounds well… Nervous. Samantha Passi is -never- nervous. She shakes her head slowly. "Wow…nothing like big brass to make you shit your pants, eh?" She finally stammers out, reaching over to fill her mug with more brandy. She needs it!

As Jaimson watches the Commander depart without so much as a word, he raises his eyebrows a little. And then… he shakes his head. "I guess," he comments off-handedly. And now? It's time for hooch. So, he heads for the nearest bottle and cup, to fill it. Unless it belongs to someone. In which case, it's Komnenos' that he's going for. "It's cool, right?" he asks as he holds up the bottle - for whomever it is that it actually belongs to - for him to have the OK.

Now it's Thorn's turn to grin at Sam's suddenly noticeable discomfort. "Gods, Case, one might think you'd never been called t' the carpet before. Commander stops in and you nearly piss yourself. Would've hated t' see what would've happened had an admiral walked through those doors. And Shortstack there looked like she was about t' explode all over everything." He's only teasing, of course. Thorn waves noncommittally to Ferris. "It's there t' be drank, lad," he responds.

Epi is kind of like the cat at the dog show here. The only Marine in a room filled with pilots. She gets very, very quiet as she sips her vodka, giving the pilots a wide-eyed look, as if she expects one of them to bite her at any second.

"Good times." The bottle is, then, promptly put to a glass. Who needs ice? As Ferris sniffs lightly at the newly aquired hooch, he hrms to himself slightly and shrugs, not quite turning up the cup, but at least test-sipping it before committing to it. Not seeming to have any complaints, he moves toward the rest of the group - taking up a non-chalant position on the couch, the end opposite of Epi. "Cheers, eh?" he remarks idly, grinning a little toward the Marine.

Samantha looks over towards Thorn, her eyes a bit wide…"I… I -haven't-. Not like that… Damn. Am I that much of a bitch?" It seems Sam's actually THINKING about her words for the first time in a long, long time, her cheeks even faintly reddened. She takes another gulp of brandy and clears her throat, giving another half chuckle. "Well…what's done is done. Yes, good times. And someone here needs to snog the Marine before she -does- explode. You okay, chickie?"

Thorn shrugs in response to Sam's question. "Some might say you are. I'm not one of them, though." He tries to reassure her with a hand on the shoulder. "Calm down, would you? Not like you said anything that bad, y' know. Trust me, I have been there." Then he, too, looks over at Epi. "And you… y' look like you've seen a ghost. Thought we were supposed t' be having fun in here, what?" He gives the Marine an encouraging smile. "We don't bite. Well, except for Sam, from what I hear." He shoots a mirthful wink over at Case.

"SNOG," Epi squeaks. "No, no snogging, please. The Gunny would be horribly, horribly upset both with me and with whomever the pilot who snogged me was." The words come out in a rush. "I'm in here with all of you pilots. The other Marines are going to beat me up," she says balefully, taking another sip of vodka.

"That sounds like a load of B.S., if I've ever heard it." Jaimson takes another sip of his drink quietly, shaking his head a little bit. "Nobody is going to get on your ass just because you're taking part in a little multi-unit post-fight night party," he remarks. He then glances around, hrmphing. "Even if the numbers are a little lopsided as to who's attended," he remarks, glancing at Sam and Kommie both for a little backup. He wants the young woman to calm down, it'd seem.

Samantha looks over to Thorn as he actually is rather reassuring, and that hand on her shoulder is nice. She smiles and leans into it, half sprawling against the man. Apparently, the brandy is finally sinking in. "Yeah, yeah…it's fine. Just glad ya aren't offended because damn, boy… I wasn't joking." She winks rather flirtatiously with Komnenos for a moment before looking back to the rest of the group and nodding almost immediately to Ferris…"Epi, anyone gives you shit over this and I'll… er… beat them up next fight night. Just relax. Or, go invite MORE Marines. We can all get along, for once!"

"If I survived being caught dancing in the Marine head while cleaning it with a toothbrush, Shortstack, I think you'll survive drinking with a few pilots," Thorn says mildly, a grin on his face as he jumps on the reassurance train. He just came down for a few relaxing drinks, and now people are tweaking out left and right. Buzzkill, srsly. He refills his glass, placing it aside for a moment while he works on his cigarette. For once, he manages to return Sam's flirting with a smile that doesn't reek of embarrassment. "Nothing t' joke about, that. And may I say you're working with some serious hot stuff yourself." OK, so it's a seriously ham-fisted complement, but it's at least sincere, and at the moment, he's buzzed enough not to care. Besides, those three seconds made his week.

Finally Epi grins then knocks back the rest of her drink. The way she's going at the vodka, and her relative size, it's quite likely she'll be under the table in no time. "Oh, alright," she murmurs, smile broadening. "So, topic of conversation?"

"Don't look now, but I think snogging is going to come back up." Jaimson's voice is rather matter of fact, and his face is solidly set. However, when he nods toward Sam and Kommie, who seem to be getting rather friendly, he grins a little. "At least, for those two." He takes a sip of his drink… then works his jaw a little. "How about how you -moved- in the ring?" He glances toward Epi. "That was some skill this evenin'. Even if you didn't come out on top, that was some pretty fancy footwork. Even for a Marine."

Samantha might blush a bit more but, dammit, she is comfortable with Komnenos. She's not going to move away just because someone's making awkward remarks. "Hey! I'm a taken woman. Supposedly… doesn't mean I can't have friends." And yes, she's entirely sprawling against Kom now, her legs stretching out to drape across his lap and that same familiar smile on her lips. Is she ever NOT up to no good? She takes another deep drink of brandy, more than comfortable with Thorn, that much is clear. "And Ferry here is right. You were like lightnin', chickie."

"She's got some footwork, all right." Thorn grins over at Epi, a certain impromptu dance party coming back to mind. Then, an arched brow is directed at Ferris. "Viper pilots, I swear. Get a little comfortable and their mind goes into the gutter," he mutters jokingly. And comfortable he certainly is, as the now-spent cigarette is stamped out. He takes another drink from his cup, sighing contentedly.

Epi laughs softly and dips her head. "I'm a gymnast," she tells the others quietly. "And I've been trained in fighting since I was big enough to bite ankles. He SHOULDN'T have gotten the better of me. I'm getting soft. But it was a damned good fight." She blushes a touch under the praise, then just crinkles her nose at Komnenos. "You did pretty well yourself, Lieutenant Lightloafers."

"Hey, hey, hey, hey." … "Hey." That said pilot sits up a bit, wagging his finger. … Is Ferris a lightweight? No, he's just being playful, and perhaps, showing, for the first time since his arrival on the Kharon, a little bit of his lighter side. "I'll have you know, el-tee… that you provide good hooch." Is it a compliment? Or what? It doesn't seem to really make much sense. But in either case, he settles back down, and sips on his drink again, glancing over toward Epi and snorting slightly and rolling his eyes a little…

Samantha smiles a bit more as she realizes Thorn isn't running from her being comfortable, so she settles there and reaches over to his pack of cigarettes, stealing one right out of it and slipping it between her lips. "Light, handsome?" She inquires of him before gazing back to the other two and grinning at Ferris. "Legs over there was pretty damn good too. I didn't expect to be fightin' a giant tonight, but I suspect he went easy on me. First day off medical leave, woulda sucked to be put back on. So, thank ya, Ferry. We'll have to go again soon."

"Bah. He had reach on you, nothing else," Komnenos says to Shortstack, accepting her compliment with a graceful nod. Wordlessly, he slips a lighter over to Sam. "Well, anyone who knows good booze when they drink it can't be all bad," he says to Ferris with a grin of approval. "Will have t' scrounge up some good ol' homemade firewater next time. Now that'll put the hair on your chest." It certainly worked for Thorn, at any rate.

Epi cocks her head to the side and leans forward to look at Thorn's chest. "Never had any, huh," she asks him, smile pure innocence as she looks up at the officer. "That's ok. We'll make sure you get to taste it. Someone your age should have had plenty." Looking past Thorn she grins at Sam before settling back. "They call you Legs too," she asks Ferris, refilling her glass.

"I actually don't… ah. Have a callsign, yet. So, I just go by… well, whatever the el-tee there is callin' me right now," Jaimson explains idly, gesturing with a free hand toward Sam, sipping on his glass and eventually, downing it with a chug. It's enough to make him take a small pause and he clears his throat. "Good stuff," he whispers to himself, before nodding a little. He glances toward Epi. "That, or just Ensign Ferris, or whatever my plane's designated. What about you, huh? You got a name besides Shortstack?" He smiles a little bit toward Epi.

Samantha laughs faintly and winces as she realizes she's trying out all these different names on him and, well, one might end up sticking. "Damn. We gotta get a better call sign for you than Ferry… but it's the only one I'm rememberin' so far. We'll work on it. Be…-creative-." She makes some sort of elaborate gesture with her hand before indeed taking Komnenos lighter and striking up the cherry on the cigarette. Once it's going, she hands him the lighter back and lets her head just flop against his chest. Almost bedtime..Or drunk time, it seems.

Thorn seems to be leaning towards drunk time, himself, as he drains the remaining contents of his cup. "Good point," he says down to Sam regarding their new pilot. He squints in Ferris' direction. "Hmm. I think we'll need t' see him in action a little more before we can give him a good one." Komnenos lights himself another cigarette. "Or just catch him in something really embarrassing," he finishes with a wicked grin.

Epi's attention bounces back and forth among the pilots. She's downed two cups of vodka and seems perfectly fine. Wait, she's a Marine. And she was raised by Marines. Chances are good that her mother was putting booze in the bottle from the first day. "Corporal Epiphany Jarot," she introduces herself to Ferris. "Demolitions expert for the Marines." Wait. This little girl, the one who can't sit still, is a demolitions expert?

"Demolitions," Jaimson replies after a moment, an eyebrow quirking. But, it returns to a neutral position after a moment, a small smile and a nod for the Marine. "Fair enough. It makes about as much sense as anything else does," he comments, grinning a little and then movng to refill his own drink - at least, before things wind down.

Samantha half chokes on her cigarette. "Demolitions? Chickie there does… Demolitions? How the hell do you keep STILL for that long? You're like a frakkin' hummingbird." Sam laughs between puffs of the stolen smoke, but she's definitely winding down, no dirty joke to be made now, just comfortable with the black squadron boy and enough booze running through her body to make everything tingle. "And that sounds right, Thorn…we'll keep our eyes peeled for the embarrassing shit. Name Ferry here by the end of the month."

Thorn snickers. "I'm just glad I got my callsign on my last tour. Could've been a lot worse if I'd gotten into some of the shit I have on this ship without one." He reaches for the bottle, which is luckily for him still within arm's reach, and refills his own glass. He pauses just long enough to take a deep drag before knocking back a slug of brandy.

The smile on Epi's face is utterly serene. It's a smile that's probably been the last thing one or two people have ever seen, too. She looks almost like a little china doll. Putting her glass aside, and with a very minimum of movement, Epi shifts so that she's balanced on the back of the sofa, on her hands, legs straight in the air. "Demolitions takes concentration," she explains quietly. "It takes focus and it takes precision. Being hyperactive is how I bleed off all that energy so I can work. Do you know how much activity it -takes- to be able to utterly settle your mind and body?" She remains absolutely and completely still on her hands. "Lightloafers," she murmurs.

Watching the gymnastic specatacle occur on the couch, Jaimson looks up at the woman, blinking and tilting his head slightly. "She does have a point, I suppose," he admits after a second. He glances back to the other pilots, before nodding toward the woman. "I lived on the same principle when I was going through college. I'd wear myself out during the day so I could focus and rest during the nights. Y'know. Party-avoidance and all. It makes a little sense."

"Psh," Komnenos snorts at Ferris. "College is made t' party. I'd do the opposite; conserve myself through the day and be ready t' make some noise come nightfall. If you can't party in college, you're not doing it right." He looks back and forth from Ferris to Epi with a small smile. "Of course, going t' classes and blowing shit up aren't quite the same." A grin down at Sam. "I don't know… the Marines might actually want her back."

Epi seems quite content to show off for the three of them. Slowly, her legs scissor apart - each pointing to the floor on a different side of the sofa. "In demolitions, you have to be able to do something like blow a building all to hell and back but also blow the lock off a vault with no more noise than a fly passing gas." Her hair flops a little as she turns her head. And then her body slowly starts to move - rocking in one direction like a pendulum, then the other. The veins in her arms are standing out, muscles obviously protesting. "Gunny'll get pissed if you keep me. He gets put out if I'm not in bed with him by a certain time." Gunny. The only Gunnery Sergeant currently is Steele. Right? And isn't he, like, old?

To that, Jaimson ain't got a comment. He remains silent as he studies the woman. In the meantime, he reaches out for the bottle… looking to re-fill his own drink. As he does, he just sips at it, willing to just enjoy the atmosphere, and the conversation, going on around him. Not to mention the spectacle.

Samantha tilts her head, jaw dropping again…"Gunny? You mean… Steele? You're frakking -Steele-? Oh man… this is too much… I think I love this girl. She's hilarious." Sam laughs and finally sprawls enough that her head is, officially, in Komnenos' lap. Facing outwards, so there is nothing naughty going on, but they've got the couch to themselves now that Epi is off doing tricks and she's going to enjoy it, her feet kicking up and body stretching out long. She shifts her right arm, stretching it out before her as far as it'll go, not quite able to get it all the way straight yet. But she just keeps trying, doing her best to keep the pain from her face. They're relaxing, she should relax. "Well…this was a quieter party. we gotta plan a bigger one. for Roubani. He got promoted, the young dog."

"And about time, too," Thorn states firmly at the mention of Roubani. "Kid's been busting his arse for months, and he made me look bloody ace on Scorpia." He puffs thoughtfully, pausing long enough to blow a couple of smoke rings before raising an eyebrow in Epi's direction. "Well, aren't you full of surprises," he remarks to Epi with a grin. His empty hand begins idly toying with a stray lock of Sam's hair.

And over the back of the sofa Epi goes, arms in the air once she lands. "Knots got promoted? That's awesome! I'll have to frak up his laundry for him." She looks serious, too. "He's a nice man."

"Wait. Wait. The guy… with his head in the math in the mess hall," Jaimson remarks quietly, tilting his head. "That guy… Poet. Right? He got a promotion?" He seems a little surprised by the news. He's at the bottom of the scuttlebutt racket, afterall. Meanwhile, he glances around toward Epi and watches her for a moment or two, before his attention goes back to Sam and Kommie.

Samantha nods in affirmation, though it's a lazy nod, not pulling her mop of wavy blonde hair out from beneath Thorn's touch. That's rather nice, that is. She chuckles huskily, "Yeah. Dunno when it happened. Recently, I think. And he's shy a shy little potatoe bug that he'd never tell a soul, just curl up in his little shell, so I wanna get some sorta party together for him in the next few days. That is, if no one else dies." Sam would like to be joking but, sadly, she's not.

"Day or two ago, I think," Thorn chimes in, his own voice starting to sound a bit sluggish. "Didn't even know about it until I saw the rank on his collar. Modest little bugger, that one." There's a hint of pride in Thorn's voice, even though Roubani isn't one of 'his' people, or even technically a pilot at the moment.

Epi looks around at the tired pilots and just shakes her head with a sigh. "I'd best go work out for a little bit before bed," she tells the three of them. "Keep the bottle. I think you all deserve it after all the work you put in to the Dance tonight." Ahhhh, so gracious. "Thanks for welcoming me to the party."

With a bit of a rumble, Jaimson sort of downs the last of his own drink. "I'm not far behind. I probably need to do a little more on the writing front… Or at least try. Cap's got me writing up a de-brief on… the stuff that happened." He places his glass aside, and nods to the other two pilots as he rises. He's okay, it'd seem, to walk. "I'll catch you all later." With that, he's on his way out…

And with that, most of the party retires into rest or drunken oblivion, the night having been a relaxing one all around…

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