The Stars' Billiard Balls Pt. 2
The Stars' Billiard Balls Pt. 2
Summary: The pool game continues - no one dies.
Date: 5/7/09
Related Logs: The Stars' Billiard Balls
Players:
Jason..Nine..Legacy..Martin..Samantha..Eddie..Fenix..Willem..

"Perhaps I should go put on my cup, sir," Jason says mildly. A joke. Kind of. He'll likely take the 'stand to the side' advice. He lets out another rueful chuckle at the 'Thumper' bit, offering Roubani a parting nod and setting up the balls on the table. "You can have the honor of breaking, Captain. Priviledges of rank, and all." To Nine he adds, "If you're of a mathematical persuasion, Petty Office, you're welcome to critique our geometry. I suspect it'll be all of obtuse." He shrugs at his little attempt at a joke. Such as it is.

Nine waves a hand quietly at Roubani as he goes, then lets loose a silent sigh from gently flared nostrils. She looks back toward the game. "Oh. I mostly like looking at the round worlds' imagined corners. I never know which one of them is likely to knock about another one. Mostly I guess it's luck." She smiles at the joke, if only to recognize that it was made.

"It only stands to reason," Thea says, moving in to take her breaking shot. It's a matter of lining the ball up, leaning down with the cue stick, replacing the ball, eyeing it…lots of little steps. "That the more obtuse the geometry, the more obtuse the person trying to do it."

Jason stands, off to the side, while Legacy breaks. Perhaps he was taking that warning about threats to his procreating abilities literally. "I've always tried for acute, myself, but I've never quite managed it." While she breaks he asks Nine, "You're a snipe, right? Sorry. I'm terrible with faces, and I don't venture too far from the Raptor bunks off duty." The ECO is not a social butterfly.

"I only grok the thickheaded stuff. If it's useful I probably can't do it," Nine gazes at her toes. "Mhm," she replies, then, to Jason. "It's okay. I don't know you, either. I'm Nine," she introduces herself.

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Bad Failure.

And so Thea shoots for the break. BOY does she shoot. Girl's got a little power behind that ball. Not only does it hit the bumper, it does so at such an angle that it ricochets and jumps - right toward where she warned Jason she hit the last guy. On Jason. "Oh, Frak," she murmurs, watching the ball jump with a bit of wide-eyed fear. "Nonono. Not again…"

<FS3> Jason rolls Reactive: Success.

Jason was holding his cue directly in front of him, down the center. Perhaps to tease the captain. But, it comes in handy, as the cue ball bounces off it. Rather like a defensive staff. "Frakkin' whoa!" he blinks, ducking down to catch the ball as it falls and rolls harmlessly. "I think that's a scratch, sir," he says with another of those rueful grins. He sets the ball on the table, lining up and taking a shot of his own…

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool: Bad Failure.

And he also scratches. Not quite as violently, but he manages to hit nothing /and/ bump the thing off the table. It rolls. He shakes his head. "It's contagious, clearly."

Nine falls backward off of the sofa and then scurries across the floor, underneath the pool table to retrieve the cue ball, peeking up over the other side of the pool table and tossing the ball back onto the surface.

Thea blinks at Jason then colors. Yes, she blushes. A lot. "Sorry about that, Lifer," she murmurs. "Maybe you should stand behind me?" Now if THAT isn't a loaded statement. She grins at Nine, looking chagrined. "I think you might need some protective gear, Petty Officer. I don't think people were prepared for full-contact pool."

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Bad Failure.

Nine ducks and covers.

"I think we're evenly matched, sir," Jason says dryly, moving to stand behind Legacy. If the statement is loaded, he makes not of it. Outwardly, at least. He gets his pool cue up in bow-staff mode again, just to be safe.

Nine just scurries under the table again, hunkering there to watch for the ball to land on the floor again. "Maybe it would be easier to play this game on the ground."

And so Thea takes her shot. Yeeeeeah. She hits something, sure. First she hits the first ball in the triangle, but she hits it at such a velocity that it and the cue ball act like some odd energy magnets and both of them go sailing, one over each side of the table. An entering Marine happens in just at the wrong time, sees what's going on, covers the boys, and duckwalks back out - fast. The other officers and enlisted start moving to the edges of the room, presumably looking for safety. That's four balls in three hits.

"Putting might be safer," Jason agrees with Nine, with a wince. He holds up his cue, protectively, as the balls go flying. He seems unsure whether to chuckle or nod at the wisdom of the retreating Marine. This could, indeed, get ugly. "Maybe the levels are off on this table…" He suggests. He gets the balls back in order, taking a step back, looking sideways at them. Then, experimentally, he readies his stick again…

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Good Success.

And the ball stays on the table this time. It even knocks another ball in. A striped one. Jason straightens, looking quite triumphant. As if he'd bested the evil table.

Nine peeks out from underneath the table as something doesn't fall off of the table, for once. "Hooray," she whispers.

Legacy gets to wait a round while Jason tries again and she grins at him, quirking a brow. "Congratulations, Lifer. You didn't kill the Petty Officer." Yes, she's teasing, clearly. "Alright, you're the stripes, I'm the solid ones."

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Good Success.

"I try to avoid homicide in my gaming, sir," Jason says lightly. He lines up another shot, taking care to note the angles. Shot is taken, and another striped ball goes into the side pocket. At an acute angle, if one is paying attention to the geometry of the thing. He crooks a slight grin at Nine. "Don't worry, Petty Officer. I've never damaged a fellow crewmember in my off-duty time. Mind if I ask. Is Nine your given name? If so, I kind of wish my parents had been as imaginative."

Nine lives. And she leans on the edge of the table, since it seems safe, for the moment, hypnotized by the little spheres rolling about. "… No. Tanazje," she gives her first name. "But nobody calls me by it. I guess Nine is a given name, too. But it was given by different people. How did you get good at this so fast?"

Thea's lips purse slightly as she eyes Jason. "I suspect he's what's called a shark, Petty Officer," the man's Captain says, tone laced with amusement. "He's now going to run the table."

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Bad Failure.

Jason is at one of the billiard tables. Playing with Legacy by the look of things, as they're both armed with cues. He's shooting, currently. He makes his way studiously around the table, picks a spot to shoot from and…*boing!* Scratch, up and off the table it goes. Not at homicidal speed, but it'll skip a good ways across the floor. He shrugs sheepishly at Nine and Legacy. "Sorry to disappoint, ladies."

Nine geeps awkwardly as a pool ball whiffs past her. But she dutifully turns and runs after it, going to fetch it and bring it back to the table. "He ran right off the table," she notes.

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Bad Failure.

Legacy grins at Jason, quirking a brow. "Faker," she teases, moving to settle in to her shooting position. She bends at the waist, sighting down the stick to the white ball. Oh, no. This isn't good. This isn't good at all. Back the stick goes and she shoots! And completely misses the white ball. She does, however, send the black ball careening around the table. Cue blush. "This…could take awhile."

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Failure.

"Keep your head down, Nine," Jason advises the petty officer as he rounds the table again. To Legacy, he shrugs. "I won't tell if you won't, sir. I think the honor of the Raptor squadron depends on no one ever learning of this match." Mostly a joke. He takes another shot. Some balls roll unspectacularly around the table, but no humans are harmed in the shooting. He steps out of the way so Legacy can go again.

Nine ducks down, and stays there a while before she appears again, or her other side does, her bare feet looming up over the side of the table. She's drawn two monsterous-looking eyes on the balls of her feet, presumably so they can see the game.

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Failure.

Thea steps in again after the balls go rattling around and just shakes her head. "Oh, wow. This…will go down in history as the world's longest pool game," she murmurs as her shot misses any solid colored balls. "Lifer? Are you sure you want to do this?"

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Bad Failure.

Jason takes a deep breath, leaning on his stick. "I don't think we can back down now, sir. It's personal now. I'm going to /defeat/ this table." Still, his mood is generally light. Until he takes another shot. And promptly banks it over the edge again. Bounce, bounce. He shrugs. "Unless it kills me first, of course."

Nine walks on her hands, her back bending in a graceful and utterly unnatural curve as she lowers her feet to the floor, picking up the ball and lifting it, tossing it from foot to foot as she palmwalks back to the table and tosses it onto the surface.

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Success.

Thea leans in to take her shot and clearly no one is more surprised than she is when a ball actually GOES IN. And it's a solid one. She stands and stares at the table for a moment, then looks to Jason, then Nine. "Nothing died with that shot, right," she asks them, baffled.

Jason grins, laughing as Legacy's bafflement. "Nothing in this room, at least. I'd say I was relieved, sir, but I'm winning so far. Still, I'd rather this not last all night." He leans on his stick while she takes her next one. "I haven't played in ages. I was better at this in college. Of course, I was never as good as my roommates. I could do the angles just fine in my head, but the execution was never all that impressive.:

"It's hard to know where the stick's going to go," Nine agrees, from somewhere close to the ground, letting her smudged foot-eyeballs stare blindly at the game.

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Success.

Thea lines up her next shot and yes, it goes in! She's having her run of luck. "That makes two and two, yes," she asks Jason, grinning up at him. "As for the stick, well, there are a few officers you could always ask to bend over so you can yank theirs out."

Jason may actually blush at that. It's hard to tell, dark as his skin is. He lets out another of those rueful laughs. "I've never been quite that forward, sir," he says mildly. He nods at the score. "Two for two. I'd almost suggest the table as slanted again, now that they're going in. I suspect it's toying with us."

"Is it safe to come up again? Or is my head just like a pool ball magnet?" Nine wonders.

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Bad Failure.

"Oh, it IS toying with us," Thea says, nodding. Of course, she also gets cocky now that the score is tied after damn near an hour. She lines up her next shot quickly, shoots, and not only sends one of Jason's balls in, but sends the cue ball sailing across the room at a high trajectory. "Oh. Frak."

<FS3> Nine rolls Reactive: Failure.

Nine flails at the ball in an attempt to catch the thing, but it sails right through her feet on its way toward the middle of the lounge.

Jason looks mildly pleased when one of his balls goes in. Though that fades when the cue ball sails through the air. He ducks instinctively, even though it's not angled in his direction.

The door to the game room opens as the tall, careless form of Martin "Dash" Black comes in. He grins as he lights a cigarette. "A pool ball magnet?" He grins to himself, shaking his head a few times as he starts to make his way towards the gathered group. "Maybe not a pool ball magnet…"

Thea watches the ball go sailing, then looks over at Jason, shamefaced. "Huh. At least no one's gotten killed yet," she asks, giving both he and Nine way too innocent looks. "You're ahead by one."

Nine bends backward to set her feet one after the other on the floor, then stands up as Martin makes fun of her. At least, she thinks he's making fun of her. She's sort of confused as to why or how, but her cheeks blotch up any old how. She lets the blood drain from her head and slowly turns back to actually look at the table. "Almost empty!" Well, not quite, but she seems to feel the officers could use encouragement.

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Success.

"Another witness?" Jason says as Martin enters. Still highly rueful. He's assumed a sort of wry humor about the way the game is going, which is probably for the best. He retrieves the cue ball, sets it back on the table, and lines up a shot. With great care to be as non-embarrassing as possible. It works to a degree. He gets a striped ball down the far left corner pocket. He looks almost relieved. As he winds around the table to take another go, he cants his head at Nine. Puzzled by the blotching. He offers her a faint smile, not asking, and taking some more time to consider his shot. Non-killer pool takes great concentration.

Legacy watches Jason make the shot and shakes her head. "Shark," she tells him, moving to lean against the sofa. She's relaxed and looks like she's having fun. "Petty Officer! You're turning colors! Worse than Poet does!" Yes, she's teasing - and is clearly fond of the young woman. "Evening, Dash. Bitten anyone lately?"

"No one's turned into a werewolf yet at least but I've bitten a few." Martin grins, nodding in Legacy's direction as he moves to lean against the wall with his cigarette. Eyeing the billiards table, he narrows his eyes at it, judging whether or not he's at a safe distance. "So what's the game here, target practice?"

Samantha steps into the room. She was SUPPOSED to be sleeping, considering she has CAP in 5 hours. But then this sleep thing hasn't been working all that well for her, so she eventually gave up. She's wearing an oversized shirt of Martin's and a pair of shorts that just manage to peek out from beneath the shirt's hem. She gives a drowsy wave to the room as she beelines for the coffee pot.

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Good Success.

"Extreme billiards," Jason replies dryly to Martin. "No concussions yet, but we've come close a few times." He slides the cue back, back, back. Aiming. He takes a rather long time about it. He's grown wary of the table. It pays off for him, as he manages to sink another one. This game may end some time in the next decade, yet.

Nine doesn't really blush, in the conventional sense. And as the area 'round about the pool table gets more and more crowded, she falls silent, easily blending into the background in that way she does. She retreats to the back of the sofa, perching there with her knees up near her chin like some savage.

Legacy humphs quietly at Jason, just shaking her head, and waves as Sam comes in. She and Jason are playing pool. It would appear to be a full contact sport. Most of the NPCs are as far away from the table as they can get, eyeing the two contestants as one would eye a rabid pit bull that's almost out of raw steak. Something's terrorized them. "Five to two," she asks Jason quietly.

Dragging off of his cigarette, Martin turns to watch Sam enter and make a beeline for the coffee maker. One eye lightly closing to avoid the streaming smoke from the lit coffin nail, Martin's got one earbud of a media unit in his ear, some sort of rock music playing lightly in it. Dragging again off of his cigarette, he exhales the smoke upwards as he reaches out to the side to tap the ashes into one of the ashtrays, he drums a hand on his hip to the beat of the music.

Eddie never dresses to impress, maybe where she comes from, flashing skin is a cardinal sin. She's dressed in her heavy sweats, though boots are on her feet instead of tennis shoes, so she wasn't in the gym. She just sort of drifts in, like she's just looking for a way to kill time. She pauses, doing a quick inventory of the room, but she heads in Martin's direction. A hitch of her head passes for a nod and a silent request for a drag off his cigarette all rolled into one.

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Good Success.

"Just three more to go. I may just finish this before my next shift," Jason says. Though he still founds skeptical. This match has clearly not been a sharkish game of pool on either of their parts. He offers Nine a little nod. As if making sure she's in position to catch his ball, should he bounce it again. He shoots. He scores. One more stripe down. He rounds the table to line up his next shot, adding to Legacy, "You've been missed out in the Raptor, sir." He states it simply, and leaves it at that, but it's said sincerely. And as if he's been wanting to say it for awhile.

Samantha scoops up the coffee mug, filled now, and looks back to the room, studying those there. She smiles as she sees Martin, and then a bit more at Legacy's presence, happy to see the Captain out of the bunks. She heads over in the direction, stifling a bit of a yawn and hiding it behind a gulp of her coffee cup as she leans against the closest chair between Dash and Thea…"…who's winnin'?" She asks the air, nodding towards the pool table.

"I think Jason is…" Martin says in reply to Sam, giving her a smile as he offers Eddie one of the earbuds to listen to what he believes is great music. Extending his hand so that the butt faces Eddie, he offers her a drag off of the cigarette, nodding upwards to her in a hello. "…be careful though, from what it looks like this is a little bit like those ocean life places. There's a splash zone."

Legacy watches Jason, eyes darkening a little, the smile faltering. "I'm wheels up on Saturday, most likely," she tells him softly. "Hopefully. Then it's a matter of finding someone's toothbrush to use on the Marine head. Got any suggestions?" A hand is lifted in Eddie's direction, a greeting.

Nine isn't watch the pool game anymore, for all anyone can tell, her dark eyes staring off elsewhere, in thought or lack thereof as she just huddles, trying to stay ready enough to dodge any balls that fly at her.

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Success.

Eddie 'plugs in' to Martin's music, sticking the bud in her ear. She leans into the offered cigarette, taking a deep drag off of it which makes the cherry flame an angry red. Her head lulls slightly to the beat, quirking a bit of a smile at Martin's choice. She doesn't complain, but nor does she sing the praises of the tune. She just nods to the beat. As Legacy greets her, the Captain gets a little twiddle of fingers in return. "I'm not afraid to get wet." She comments absently to Martin, her eyes still searching the crowd.

"Glad to hear it. As for the wheels, that is. Seeing as you're my superior, sir, I suppose you could draft brushes from our squadron," Jason says mildly. "But I'd take it as a kindness if you didn't." He's careful to aim away from Nine. The petty officer has earned his goodwill, apparently, and he doesn't want to brain her. He notes Eddie's entrance, looking up and offering her a friendly smile. "Morales. Hey. Just in time. Let's see if I can embarrass myself again…" He draws the cue back, taps and manages to sink another. He's only got the eight ball to go now. So close. And yet so very far away.

Nine hugs her knees and rests her face between them, converting herself into a rather small bump of enlisted sort of growing from the back of the sofa, not offensive to anyone.

Samantha remains dead quiet, leaning against her chair, watching the game… but then she's watching Eddie and Martin. She frowns a touch, not saying anything, but there is suddenly a line of tension across the back of her shoulders that wasn't there before. She forces herself to gulp down another bitter pull of coffee, keeping her mouth busy…

Martin scoffs quietly to Eddie, taking a drag off of his cigarette as he taps the beat out on his hip. Making a snarl in her direction, he leans forward and lightly headbutts her. "Course it ain't water that's splashing, it's balls." He says, and then pauses, looking to the side. Bad choice of words. "…frak." Eyes trailing to Sam, he watches her silently for a moment and smiles to her. "Hey Sam? I was thinkin maybe we should arrange some sort of video game system tournament, doubly so if we can get the okay to crack a bottle for the thing, you down?" He says, watching her.

Eddie comments, "Balls, huh? Well. My social life could use the boost." She hitches her chin up as Jason notices her, but she doesn't verbalize her greeting in case she messes up his game. Instead she blows him a kiss, because that's better, right? All the while she keeps a vaguely bemused look on her face, though her eyes are distant and detached. "Not bad." She must be remarking about the music, because shortly there after she's pulling out the ear bud and letting it dangle back at Martin's throat.

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Bad Failure.

Jason winks at Eddie's kiss gesture, then gets back to the game. It's down to the end now. He almost has this thing won. All he needs to do is sink the eight ball into the corner pocket. He draws back his cue and…pew, pew, pew! The ball ricochets wildly and randomly off various points in the table. Missing the eight ball completely. And sinking a couple of Legacy's solids while it's going. He winces.

Samantha returns the smile to Martin, "sure, darlin'… but I lost my last bottle of ambrosia to the Marines in the damn boxing match, so we'll have to pout it out of them. Or maybe we can challenge them back for it?" She offers thoughtfully, her voice still slightly thick and husky from lingering fingers of sleep. She looks then between Jason and Eddie, relaxing just a bit as the woman has half turned her attention to someone else. Nope. Sam's not protective at alllll.

Nine finally draws her face from between her knees, resting her cheek on a knee, now, to peek mousishly at the group of pilots assembled to discuss their piloty things. She feels in the middle of a scene from a film: smoking, drinking, rock and roll, pool. Out of place, she. But she doesn't mind. She almost forgets that she's even there.

It's taken a solid month of being onboard, but Fenix has finally ventured into the off-duty areas of the ship. Something that isn't the hangar deck, the mess hall, or her bunk. She's dressed in the tank and greens of off-duty, and she's left her hair to its more natural chaos. A black halo of curls, celebrating the brief freedom from the stubby ponytail that usually keeps it pinned to her neck. A half-burned cigarette is alreayd perched between her lips, and at least for the moment, she's doing little but shadowing the door to the game-room. A bare shoulder pressed to the nearby wall, and her 'brows knitting a bit as she surveys the scene within. Pilots. Pilots. Everywhere.

Martin chuckles and whispers something to Eddie after she drops his earbud. Muttering quietly to her, he raises his head and takes another drag off of the cigarette, offering her another drag in return. "I'm down for that, but I probably shouldn't grandstand getting into a ring with a Marine, should I? Or maybe I should…then they'll never see it coming. Aside from knocking Fingers around a few times no one's really seen whether or not I'm good with the fisticuffs…"

Off-duty. A slightly mauled-looking Wil(it hasn't been -that- long ago since he earned a glorious shiner and fat lip) pops the hatch open and slips in. No, that's it. He doesn't do anything special. No little dances or witty comments. He's just here. Like everyone else, apparently. "Huh." He mutters, looking around, with a neutral expression. He's also without his typical accoutrements(notebooks and the like).

Willem peers back at the Chief as his head darts about. Apparently he's not the only newcomer. "Oh."

Eddie never takes the cigarette from Martin, rather she lets him hold it as she takes a drag. The smoke is pulled into her lungs and held there for a moment, as she gives Martin a quizzical look. Whatever is whispered apparently requires a response, and she turns slightly into him to murmur back.

Jason is playing a game of pool with Legacy. It looks to have been going on awhile, though the balls are beginning to thin. He takes a step back from the table once it's the captain's turn again. Taking the time to fish into his pockets for a cigarette and lighter. A cordial nod is offered to Willem and Fenix in turn, though his mouth is too occupied with initial smoking for any verbal greeting. The ECO is the quiet sort, anyhow.

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Success.

Thea dips her head to the newcomers, but she's focused on the game. Someone's got the competitive spirit, though she's starting to look tired. She leans down to take a shot and, surprise surprise, makes it. "We're getting the balls in holes," she comments to her partner in crime. "I think the Petty Officer will fall asleep before she can play the winner."

Samantha tries to actually listen to what Martin is saying about Marines, but her green eyes are more so just studying him and the young, vibrate Eddie. She takes another gulp of her coffee, finish off the mug before standing up a bit straighter. "Ah… well..keep me updated, Martin… about the.. tournament thing. I… maybe I should… go back to sleep. Let ya'll …. do.. Whatever yer doin'." She admits, almost awkwardly, most of Sam's cool charm having gone out the door somewhere to awkward-ville.

Nine does look about to fall asleep, already in dormant mode. Her eyes almost read 'press any key to continue.' It takes a full minute or two for the Captain's words to sink into her brain deeply enough for her to lift her head. "I don't really know how to play," she admits. "I mean, I get the basic idea, but I never have."

Fumbling rather helplessly in his pocket, Willem produces another battered, half-empty pack of smokes in a sort of casual ease that is completely at odds with the fact that, well, the way they're all going, they'll likely be gone in a few months. At this point in time, this is not a governing aspect of his own behavior as he pops the filter-end out of the pack and props it in his mouth, lighting up with a dingy, busted-up lighter he pulls out shortly thereafter and exhales a cloud of blue smoke overhead, tipping his head back. Nodding back to Jason, in all politeness as he's never had a rude word to say to the ECO he steps to the side and edges up against the wall, leaning and watching the game going on as well as the get-together as a sort of benificent outsider. At least for the moment.

"I'll be back up in a few minutes Sam, I'm gonna have another smoke and get some down time in before I shower. Seeya up there then?" Martin asks, a look of concern crossing over his face as she paces her words, biting the side of his lip for a moment. Dissecting her words with his eyes, he reaches down and taps off the media unit, a little stress forming on his shoulders. He mutters something quietly to Eddie, glancing towards her.

Oh. "You always this articulate, Lieutenant?" comes Fenix's response to Willem's haphazard notice. The woman allows her head to settle back against the wall she's propped herself against — angling herself in such a way that she can actually /see/ the taller man, without an obvious show of looking up. The cigarette is snagged between two fingers, pulling it away from her mouth long enough to exhale a lungful of smoke through pused lips.

Jason flicks a look back to Martin, Samantha and Eddie but he doesn't dwell on them for long. The table has his full attention. He doesn't quite have Legacy's competitive spirit, but he's obviously enjoying himself. Since Legacy is still shooting, he happily continues his smoke break. He chuckles at Nine's words. "I think it's pretty clear neither of us are experts, PO. I wouldn't worry."

<FS3> Legacy rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Failure.

Eddie ahs to Martin, the previous headbutt requiring a hip bump in follow up as she gets her clarification. "Don't worry about it." Mooner cracks a smile, some brilliant white teeth and great Caprican dentistry flashed. If she's making Samantha uncomfortable, she's oblivious to it. "I'm gonna bounce. Get some rack time myself." Her voice raises up to cut through some of the din. "G'night folks!"

"Oh, it's pretty easy, PO," Thea comments as she takes a shot and misses. "Stick, ball, hole. Use stick to hit balls to knock balls in the hole. Same principle as a lot of things in life." Wow. Looks like she's gone philosophical. Her lips thin as she misses. "Take us home, Lifer."

<FS3> Jason rolls Pool *CASUAL*: Good Success.

Samantha picks herself up from down against the chair where she had been slumping. She nods to Martin. "Sure… see ya down there whenever, Martin." She gives him a half smile and then heads for the door, passing by Legacy on the way…"Good to see ya out, Legs." And then finally towards her wingman…"Rebound. Knock'em all dead." She nods towards the pool table, even though he's not playing. Always good to encourage the wingman. And, with that, she heads for the hatch… drowsily going back to her quarters.

Jason offers a "Good night" to Eddie before bellying up to the table again. His cigarette deposited in a convenient ashtray. He rolls his shoulders, leaning over, sliding his cue thoughtfully between his fingers. "Spooling up, sir. I make no promises, though…Corner pocket." And, in it goes. He grins, looking more relieved than anything else. And no one was even injured in the playing of this game.

"No. Sometimes I drool and walk around stoop-shouldered and make various primate noises." Wil quips towards Fenix, sarcastically with just the faintest twitch of a grin. "I guess we're in the smoking section." He notes, in a dry tone of voice. "Anyone mess with my girl today? I figured, you know, since you see everything that goes on you'd watch out for me." One wink of a swollen eyelid and he takes another puff himself as he watches the game, waving halfheartedly in the direction of the other pilots for for now content to hang back.

"I'll let someone else do the gambling tonight, I think." Wil finishes with a cheeky grin in Sam's direction.

"Allright catch you later Eddie. Chalk me down for some video game time later this week?" Martin says, looking to Eddie and smirking at the hip-bump. Returning it, he moves across the floor, watching Samantha as she goes. Biting the inside of his lip, he glances back to Eddie and then to her, as if suddenly starting to get the bigger picture. "Frak…" He says under his breath, pouring himself a glass of water.

Thea looks like she's going to melt with relief. "Oh, thank the gods," she murmurs. "I was seriously afraid one of us was going to kill someone." She lifts a hand toward Sam.

Fenix's lips twitch is what could almost pass for a smirk, a 'brow lifting as she considers Willem's response. "You're confusing yourself with a marine," she concludes, returning the cigarette to her lips. "Seems so." Regarding the smoking section. She doesn't even hesitate when he questions about 'his girl', instead tipping another sidelong look toward the pilot. "I saw a few pilots makin' eyes at her, but that's about it."

"It was a long, hard slog, sir, but we made it in the end," Jason quips. He racks the balls back in order and puts his cue away. Cleaning up after himself. "Thanks for the game."

Nine sits up almost straight, beginning to applaud the officers as they finish up their game of pool.

"Nah. Marines can actually throw punches and shoot at things on the ground." Willem quips, shaking his head. "You're neglecting valuable skills here. So far they haven't figured out that I just climb in the bird and push frakkin' buttons and stuff happens." He pauses a beat as he smokes again. "Don't tell anyone I told you, will you? Then I'd be stuck on deck duty and…well, I think I'd get in trouble mighty fast." He half-snorts, half-laughs as he watches the two pilots filter out as he lolls his head over to Martin. "Did you scare 'em off or did I?" He looks again over to the air-folk. And, well, Nine, who's not exactly air-folk, but she's infiltrated for now. "Or was it the Captain's sheer skill?" Turning back over towards Fenix, he just finishes, "Yeah, well, I figured I'd ask. I'm not the jealous type. Except when people leave chip grease on the controls."

Thea puts her bits and pieces away as well, laughing quietly. "Well, Lifer, since you won, your toothbrush won't get pilfered. You're safe - this time, at least. Good game, and thank you for hanging out with an old pilot." She smiles over at Nine. "You too, Petty Officer. Sorry for nearly killing you."

"I think I scared em off." Martin replies, coming back towards the group with a glass of water. Sipping it, he sets it aside and leans against the wall, turning that one earbud of his media unit back on. Lighting a smoke, he gives a shrug to Willem, a bit of stress creeping in over his shoulders.

Nine continues to unwrap from her slouch, her arms arcing behind her to put her hands on the couch back and then flip herself over to stand on the floor, bare-footed. "That's okay. My parents knew I would die one of these days, anyhow."

Jason offers Legacy a casual two-fingered salute, as for the promise of safety for his toothbrush. "My gums thank you, sir. Anytime. Looking forward to seeing you back on the flight line." Speaking of which. He goes to reclaim his cigarette, to take whatever last drags of the thing he can. "I should be hitting the showers before I have to make an apperance on the hangar deck. I do hope we can play sometime, Petty Officer." He inclines his head to Nine.

It's more than a bit pilot heavy in here… and as deck crew — worse yet, temporary queen of the deck crew — Fenix is understandaby on edge. Listening to Willem, even offering the occasional smirk, but keeping her eyes on the various jocks that mill about. "Don't tell anyone?" she responds after a moment, actually cracking a grin at the man. It's a lopsided expression — a bit wry — but it softens her features in a way that makes it clear why she avoids such gestures. Better to be small and surly than aquire the dreaded 'cute' label. "That's common knowledge where I come from. But don't worry, I won't out you to 'nyone important."

"Um. Okay. But I don't really know how," Nine reminds Jason. "I guess I can't do that much worse than you, though," she adds, then pauses. "Oh. Oh, that's not what I meant. Well, it was, but I wasn't going to say it out loud."

"Maybe they were just still in awe of your moves." Wil says, dripping with good-natured sarcasm in the distance towards Martin before he crosses his arms in front of his chest, cigarette still propped between his swollen lips. Finally, he turns back with a slow arc of his head towards the monster he has been in the process of creating - An acting Deck Chief armed with a slew of jokes that can easily be aimed at one pilot. Namely himself. "Good. Because if I picked up a soldering gun I'd probably burn my own hand off. And that I don't think I could -ever- live down." For what it's worth, he seems comfortable joking with the NCO. The off-duty status is clearly defining him, right now.

Legacy sketches a salute to those present then turns toward the door, moving more slowly than when she came in, but there's a smile on her face. "Night all," she calls over her shoulder before disapparing.

"Maybe it's not Martin. Maybe it's me." Wil smirks as he gives the Captain a lazy wave.

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