| Quantum Display |
| Summary: | Rian tries to avoid people, only to find more of them. Xanthus plays with himself. |
| Date: | PHD205 (Nov 10 2009) |
| Related Logs: | Just after Smokin in the Laundry Room |
| Players: |
 .. .. .. .. |
The game room is about as busy as it usually is: As one of the crew's escape avenues, it's never not in use, but people generally have enough to do that there's not a crazy amount of people down here either. Xanthus is hunched over a pool table, staring down the barrel of a cue stick. His opponent: Well, he might joke that it's him vesus the dark gods or something equally dramatic, but he's really just playing himself. Pool balls are scattered all over the table. He's about half-way through.
The hatch squeals as someone outside turns the wheel, the clunk of it unlocking is loudest of all. Pushing through Rian steps into the game room with slender arms crossed over her chest and a dark furrowed brow. She allows the hatch to swing shut as she looks around the room, perhaps this is a strange place to get away from people but she has been walking the corridors for some time now and no where seems quiet. Stopping a few feet from the pool table she watches the enlisted take the shot with little shyness and actually tilting her head, getting a good look at that ass.
Xanthus gives the cue ball one hell of a prod, sending it across the table where it completely fails to connect with its target. What it does instead is rebound off of a back wall and hit the 7 ball, which slams into the 4 and 11. The 11 conveniently sinks into a corner pocket so Xanth glances around and goes, "Yes!" quietly, along with, "It worked." And then he pulls the imeginary 'fun lever' all guys have hanging at their side. Sure. You meant to do that.
Rian raises one dark brow as she continues to watch the man play with himself. Arms uncross and fall to her sides as she takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, shoulders slumping. Moving towards the television she goes to the couch, though does not sit. Instead she leans up against the back of it, getting a good view of the entire table. "Winning?" she asks dryly, pale features looking even darker in the dim light. Patting down the pockets of her pants she removes a small pack of cigarettes, idly tapping it on one palm until one protrudes.
"Every single morning I get up, I'm winning." responds the viper jock who, were it not for the cocky little smirk on his lips as he says it, might have sounded as though he were about to lead into a comment about how just being alive counts as a win, or staying alive is a win, or… "Especially when I look in the mirror? It's like boom." He extends his fingers out the form of an imaginary picture frame. It frames himself. Naturally. "Boom. I'm Xanthus: I win."
Rian brings the smoke to her lips, lighting it before putting the pack and lighter back into her pockets. The cherry flares as she inhales deeply, a half laugh and an eyeroll offered to the pilot. "Xanthus huh?" Her voice is lighter now as she pushes off the back of the couch, holding out her hand. "I'm Rian. Now is that attitude taught in flight school or drilled in once you were shipped off on duty?"
Hunching over again, Xanth draws the poolcue back, strikes the cue ball, and drops another ball down the chute. "Actually," Xanth looks up at her sounding mostly serious, "It's a recruitment policy required of all candidates." Perfect deadpan follows: "We eat the lesser ones. Their souls fuel our engines." With that, he goes down to the table and lines up another shot.
Rian's dark eyes follow him closely as he moves around the table. A half smile forms on her lips as she exhales curling grey smoke. "I figured as much." She speaks softly, "Finally someone that speaks the truth about the military." Her hand drops to her side with an odd glance to her palm, wondering why he did not shake it. Hands move back behind her as she leans up against the couch once more, "Are you always this cocky or is this just for my benefit?"
"Think of it as a quantum display. If I'm self-amused in the game room and nobody's around to see it, do I still have a big mouth?" He gives the pool table another shot and misses, this time, sending the ball spiralling out to the boonies. The next shot will probably be a little tougher for him, "Haven't seen you around the ship before. We pick you up from a wreck, or just the way things go? I don't venture into marine country much." He rubs his jaw as if to imply why.
"Touche." Rian speaks plainly, taking another long drag of her smoke, eyes looking a tad more expressive as she watches the ball fly off the table. One nod sends the dark locks of her hair sprawling over her cheeks, covering her right eye, "I was picked up from Solon II." Looking down she looks over her attire, "Is it really that obvious I'm a marine?"
"Well it was either that or engineering. I don't know you from the squadron and you're far too broad shouldered to be in CIC. It's not a very large ship. And," admits Xanthus with a smirk as he goes off to retrieve the ball, "I guessed. El Tee Junior Grade Xanthus Spiros. They call me Jester. I can't imagine why. Didn't know we grabbed anyone off of Solon II. You career, or make a prudent job change?"
Rian flicks the tip of her smoke with her thumb, ashing it on the metal ground. "There were not a lot of survivors from the hell planet." Rian talks cooly now, "A prudent job change is a good way of putting it." Shaking her head slightly she changes the subject, "Jester huh? I can see that."
"Makes sense." Jester tosses his cueball from one hand to another, then back, and then back again. It's an obvious display for Rian, small as it is. Well Jesters juggle, right? Right? He sets the ball onto the table. "A lot of cats we picked up from Scorpia sort of chilled in the Mess Hall. Weren't joining us. Just sorta being glad to get picked up. Makes zero frakking sense to me. Fight or die. Hell, we'll probably die anyway. If you've gotta go, go on your feet. How'd you know I was a pilot, anyway?"
"Those civvies from Scorpia? They are just in shock, only now have they found refuge from the cylons, warm meals and hot showers. I'm sure they'll become more sociable once their memories begin to fade." Rian speaks, a shrug offered before she takes a final drag of her smoke before tossing it down to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of her boot. Seeming unimpressed by his stick juggling she pushes herself away from the couch, moving to the shelves near the tv. "How did I know? Years being on the outside of the military looking in has given me a good eye for who's who." Crouching down she moves around the books and magazines, obviously looking for something, "I've been stationed all over this ship and yet have not seen you, so you are not a Marine, nor are stationed at any one key area of the ship. That combined with your attitude I'm guessing vipor pilot, an old one too. Probably a lifer in the armed forces."
"I'm not old!" protests the viper jock, "I'm age-ed. Not sure I'd call myself old, really. Certainly not old enough to be a lifer. You have to be here way longer than that, and what sort of lifer would be a JiG, anyway?" Xan snickers to himself. He's leaning over a pool table-for-one, where an array of poolballs semi-mock him by not being sunk by now. He's using his cuestick as a mock cane, "Close enough. I'm a viper pilot. Far as I'm concerned, we're all lifers. I just wanna have a little fun before I die." He draws the poolstick back and launches the white ball into the red-with-stripes one. It misses, hits the solid blue one, which, as before, rebounds and knocks the solid green one into the corner pocket. Total accident. "See that? Pure skill." Again, he pulls the 'fun lever' hanging from his right side. The invisible one all men seem to have.
"Your hands aren't that fast." Jupes' statement sounds pretty sure. She walks along with the other pilot, the two of them talking about something or other, probably viper related. Or sports related. Possibly booze related. "What was that move you pulled on Mooner in the sims? I lost you for a second visually. Then Papabear zoomed in and plugged me when I still had cigarette ash down my top. Mental note to self, don't frakkin' light a smoke in the middle of a maneuver."
Rian looks over her shoulder and rolls her eyes at the pilot. Turning back to the shelves she gets frustrated with her search and tosses a worn magazine back with the rest. Rising from the ground she moves to the other shelving lining the far wall, "Old is not what I meant. I am presuming you went into the military right from grade school, being a lifer simply means that this has been your only life. And yes, I agree, we are all lifers now." Hands skim along the mangle of things left on the games shelves, her back to the pilot even as he makes his killer move on the pool table. "Some fun is just what I'm looking for." As the other pilots enter she falls silent.
"The frak would you know about the throttle wide open. You drive like a little old man," Jupiter shoots back, before she digs a hand down into her pocket in search of a pack of smokes. She hasn't bothered taking her flight suit off, which means if Kai catches her hanging out in here wearing it, he's probably gonna glare. She drops into a seat on the couch anyway, leaving it unzipped so a sliver of her tee shows through. "Smoking in the sims helps me keep from saying the things I'm really thinking." That's a boldfaced lie, as anyone who who's ever been in the sims with her could attest.
Rian slams her palm down on the metal shelf, the loud BOOM filling the room followed by the sound of metal vibration. Standing up by the shelves near the TV the young private frowns crossing her arms over her chest. "I simply can't win tonight." Looking over the woman her expression softens a but she does not address her. Glance back to Jester she continues the conversation, "Ha, well I'm not always right. I had you chalked up to being a viper jock is all you know.. actually jurry's still out on that one." Moving with broad steps she comes to the couch, taking a seat on the edge of the armrest, attention going to the gap between the cushions, hands reaching in to explore blindly. "No, I'm no damn army brat. Those are even easier to spot in the ranks. I'm something /else/." Trying to be mysterious? Not really, humorous most likely.
"I know its lots of fun to do when you're flying against nuggets because…well, they try to follow your example and end up crashing into their SL or an asteroid." Absalom shoots back, grinning. He moves to join Jupiter on the couch, giving the hand-slamming Private a look, before he tugs a small flask out of a pocket and holding it over for Jupiter to take, "I somehow doubt smoking in the sims makes you more restrained, it didn't seem to last night anyways."
Xanthus raises an eyebrow at the loud boom, "Neither can the shelf." He hands the sacred staff to Rian and pats her on the shoulder, "Well if you're looking for a good time, this is it. Go get 'im, tiger. Balls won't know what him 'em. As for me, man, look at the time." The glibness to his tone is unmistakable, "Anyway, I hope you solve the mystery. I really dig mysteries."
Jupes' eyes scan the place briefly once she's taken a load off. There's a cursory glance. She snickers softly at Abs' observation. "It is pretty funny when they crater into a giant floaty rock," she agrees, amusement clear enough in her voice that it's obvious she's pulled that maneuver more than once on a nugget. "Flying with Boner makes me more restrained. Nothing puts a girl off her A game like her little bro listening in on comms. Mom gave me a lecture about setting an example once, and it stuck in my brain like a dirty limerick." She glances over to Rian, perhaps looking to see what the shelf did to piss her off.
"Its even better when you're play OpFor against a nugget and someone like Spider who should know better than to stick em on their wing, and you get them to crash into eachother. THAT is a blast." Absalom says, leaning back into the couch to get comfortable. He blinks as he overhears Xanthus' words and then asks of Jupiter, "Think we're drivin him off?"
"Me? Driving him off. No. Maybe you." Jupiter nudges Absalom's shoulder, and tips back in the couch to get comfortable, her back slowly relaxing into the cushions. So comfortable. "It doesn't matter how they crash as long as they do. Extra points for makin' 'em cry." Jupiter's a great teacher, gosh. Wonder why she isn't a flight instructor.
"I said us." Absalom grumps as he settles in and takes a drink from his flask. He smirks and asks, "So, since we did my lame-o life story last evening, your turn. What's your story again?"
Rian settles into the couch finally, given up her search for the time being. "I was just trying to find someone's stash. I know Kissy keeps a few half finished jars around his haunts." Her eyes follow Xanthus as he leaves in a hussy, seems like a lot of people have been doing that today. Time off while on ship is proving to be interesting. She turns her attention to the pilots, leaning out and putting her elbow on her knee to see them both better, "Private Amaranth Rian." Introducing herself but not offering her hand to shake, "and I'm not sure exactly what I did to piss that dude off, but Hello!"
"Jupiter Black, that's Shadow." Apparently Jupes goes by her own given name, but refers to several other pilots only by their callsigns. Or maybe she's pilot incognito. Yes, in her flight suit. Don't judge! "You breathed. He only likes Rainbow." Aka Mars. "Share the booze, you stingy frak." Jupiter reaches over to hold out a hand for the flask, well within Abs' personal space. "There's usually a jar under the coffee maker. Pilot secret. Shh." Now if she gets caught drinking in her flight suit, she'll be in the brig before you can say 'oh shit, it's the CAG'.
Rian reaches over to Jupiter and takes the flask with thankful eyes pausing a moment to cheers and look up, "thank you lords." Tipping her head back she takes a long swig from it, her face twisting as she swallows. "Good stuff," she huffs, chest tight as she leans over Jupiter to give the booze back to Shadow. "You shouldn't be telling me pilot secrets, I think that's against protocol." Rian jests, index finger rising to wipe away a small trickle.
"Well, who doesn't like Rainbow?" Absalom asks as he hands over the flask. The man rolls his eyes, "We've been on the ship together how long? Absalom Harris. Nice to meet you," he replies to Rian, before turning his attention back to Jupiter, but, is forced to look over at the Marine as she appropriates his flask. He can't really complain, not outright anyways, so, he just stares.
Jupiter glances askance at Absalom as he asks after Mars' popularity. Maybe he's slept through every time the woman was conscious in the berthings. She shrugs and makes a frowny sort of 'frak off' face, then takes the flask and it's promptly sort of handed off to Rian. "Shut up, Harris." Look, she can repeat names. She doesn't say anything about the marine taking the flask. Maybe she really was handing it over, or maybe it was just a wide grab followed by another grab. Absalom is still left without, whatever the case. She definitely intercepts it before it can make it back to Abs. Yoink. Glug. "… I trade pilot secrets for marine coffee."
Rian gives her head a good shake before rising from the couch, it's getting late. Once standing she looks down at the pilots slouched about on the couch, a slight smile coming to her lips. "Thanks for the booze I owe you one," she speaks, but obviously she's tired. "I'm off," with that she turns and goes to the hatchway, adding a backward wave of her hand before stepping out to the hall.
"Eh, don't let us get shot up next time we get boarded. That'll be enough for me." Absalom replies, before taking the flask from Jupiter and having a swig of his own. He waves to the departing Marine, and then turns back to his fellow pilot, "That was a nice change of pace."
